Cursed to Death

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Cursed to Death Page 13

by L. A. Banks


  “Aye, the bonnie lass wants to know details of our revelry—”

  “She’s a nurse, a healer, and me wife!” Ethan shouted. “And it doesn’t change the fact that your fortress walls are exposed to human view—which means your castle can be easily found. In fact, without the glamour, Vampires or rogue Werewolves can find and decimate the village! Where is Sir Rodney?”

  They came out of the shadows and onto the stage at The Fair Lady. But it only took a few seconds to process the threat that greeted them. Three huge Werewolf lieutenants rushed them in human form, eyes blazing wolf, canines ripping through their gum lines.

  Sasha ducked, pivoted, and flipped off the stage. Hunter went into a low roll as two attackers sailed over him. One crashed into the bar and the other hit the wall, as a third snarled and circled Sasha, sending Hunter into a death stalk behind him.

  “No, wait,” she shouted. “Seung Kwon, we can help Shogun. We didn’t come to attack him!”

  Sasha’s words gave Hunter pause as he looked to the far side of the stage.

  “Shogun!”

  Seung Kwon left the floor, hit the stage, and barreled toward Hunter. In an evasive shake-and-bake move, Hunter flipped out of the way of a claw swipe and landed on his feet beside Sasha while three slow-moving, snarling Werewolf lieutenants circled their leader—his brother.

  “You think we are foolish and that our eyes are blind?” Seung Kwon shouted. “Your bitch baits my cousin, the co-leader of the Wolf Federations, into an early transformation, which you both know will leave him vulnerable—and then you both return to finish him off so you can lead alone!”

  “No!” Hunter shouted. “I came to help him. He’ll die like this!”

  “We have medicine—Hunter has had this happen to him before!” Sasha stared in horror at Shogun’s shuddering frame. “Let us help, and if it doesn’t work, then try to kill us.”

  Shogun lay on the floor in so much agony that all he could do was moan. His legs were twisted in mid-transformation, cramped in the position of backward-bent hindquarter limbs. His thumb was distended to where his dewclaw would have been, partly up his forearm, and his jaw was distended into a wolf’s snout, but his forehead, back, and torso were still human.

  “Kill them,” Dak-Ho yelled, glancing at his brothers. “These are tricks to take full control of the Southeast Asia Werewolf Federation. Shogun’s dead sister Lei Ho was right!”

  “Wait,” Chin-Hwa urged. “The she-Shadow claims she has medicine. They did not kill Shogun before when he had the sickness. If they were going to do it, that would have been the opportune time.”

  Seung Kwon walked away, circled Shogun, and pointed at him with tears in his eyes. “You fix this! He transformed only to dominance-battle for you! How could this be possible? The moon hasn’t risen yet. No Werewolf can turn before the moon takes her due—only Shadows can do that. What has your mate’s bite infected him with? That contagion still lingers! It can be the only true explanation!”

  “It’s not Hunter’s bite. It’s the dark magick in this region.” Sasha tentatively jumped up on stage. “You have to get him out of here . . . This is where the epicenter of the spell happened, we think.”

  “You lured him here!” Seung Kwon yelled, his voice breaking. “He couldn’t follow you into the shadows and you knew it! He tried to change back to save face and then . . . You fix this, bitch!”

  Hunter was on the stage within seconds, snarling. “Beta, if you address her out of turn once more . . .”

  “Safe haven!” Sasha shouted, spinning on Hunter. She lowered her voice. “Safe haven. They don’t understand.” She turned to Seung Kwon, her eyes appealing to any compassion he owned. Guilt and heartbreak ripped her insides. “Shogun has been like this for hours—suffering. Can’t you see the man’s in pure agony? We can’t just sit around battling or debating this! You can’t wait on the moon several hours from now, that’s not going to make it better. He won’t last till then.”

  Hunter lolled his neck and focused on Shogun. “When my system was rejecting the demon-infected virus, my transformations were hard like his. Brutal. They have antitoxin at Tulane . . . a small stash from just after the war here. It was an emergency supply my grandfather insisted be left here, just in case.”

  “It was based on the same meds they used to shoot PCU human soldiers up with—the ones that got bitten.” Sasha began to pace, talking with her hands. “But they’ve perfected it with Shadow Wolf blood in the serum. The demon-infected Werewolf blood isn’t in it any longer. It’s the only chance to get Shogun out of this aborted transformation.”

  “This is bullshit! You lie!” Seung Kwon shouted. “How do we know the truth from your lies?”

  “Shadow Wolves do not lie,” Hunter said in a slow rumble, walking forward, ready to attack. “That’s why we can wear silver. Scent it in my aura. Truth smells like sterling. Do I look like I’m lying when I tell you that I’ll kill you if you let my brother die, punk?”

  A pained gasp followed by a long, agonized moan stilled the group. The sounds of bones snapping caused them all to cringe.

  “He’s transitioning back to human form too slowly!” Sasha shouted. “What about this don’t you understand?”

  “That’s my brother you are dooming to a suffering death that lacks honor or dignity. I will not allow you to do that just so that you can be his successor.” Hunter’s voice was low and steady as he continued stalking forward. “If you don’t allow us to take this man to the only source of transformation meds we know of, he will go into shock and die.”

  “We’re not allowing you to take him anywhere while he’s vulnerable to an assassination.” Seung took a fighter’s stance in front of Shogun’s body, gaze hardened for war.

  “Fine, die your way,” Hunter said, preparing to lunge. “It’s either that, or be merciful and shoot him.”

  Clarissa stared at her cell phone the moment the call disconnected. Bradley and Winters didn’t say a word; their expressions spoke volumes.

  “It was Doc,” she said in a far-off tone. “He just left Tulane with Silver Hawk . . . headed toward The Fair Lady with antitoxin. Woods and Fisher have gotta bring artillery backup. This is not a drill.”

  “What the fuck is going on, guys?” Winters dropped back against the seat, demoralized. “Oh, shit. You mean Hunter came out of the shadows full blown again?”

  “No,” she said quietly, as Bradley stepped down harder on the gas. “It’s not for Hunter, it’s for Shogun.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Pounding on the front door of The Fair Lady drew snarls from everyone, including Hunter. Sasha rushed forward, seeing the flashing red lights through the glass panels, her feminine intuition kicking in. She knew how Doc functioned; the males with her didn’t. If Doc had gone to Tulane to get the meds while they all stood around and argued about how to move Shogun, Doc would have commandeered an ambulance, calling in his military markers.

  “Stand down,” Sasha shouted as she crossed the wide floor. “It’s Doc and Silver Hawk with meds. All of our jeeps are in the bayou, en route. You guys didn’t have a vehicle and wouldn’t let me and Hunter try to shadow jump with him, so they brought an ambulance, okay?”

  Muscles relaxed, hackles lowered, but still Shogun’s men didn’t move from their protective stances in front of him as she opened the door. But the moment she did, she froze.

  Doc stood beside Silver Hawk, his troubled gaze locked onto hers. Silver Hawk had a shotgun, cocked and loaded with silver shells. Low warning growls were behind her, a clearly compromised Shadow Wolf elder stood before her. The dance would be delicate.

  “We are no longer at war with the Werewolf Clans,” Sasha said calmly, staring into Shadow Hawk’s eyes. “Shogun is Hunter’s half-brother. You know this . . . Grandfather, you are being affected by dark magick.”

  “His people killed my daughter,” Silver Hawk said flatly, looking over Sasha’s shoulder toward the stage.

  “His father tried to save your daughter,”
Sasha said softly. “He died for her, fought and bled for her. Now we must return the favor and try to heal his son.”

  Gently and slowly, she reached out and lowered the gun barrel and then watched Silver Hawk release the hammer so that it was no longer cocked. She and Doc shared a look.

  “Tensions are running high,” Doc said quietly.

  Sasha nodded.

  “How are you and Hunter feeling?”

  She looked at Doc, not blinking. “Better now that we’ve been to the shadow lands to purge.”

  Doc nodded. That’s all that she needed to know; he’d gotten her unspoken message.

  “Maybe later Hunter can go with you on a spirit walk,” Sasha said, now looking at their clan elder.

  “Yes . . .” Silver Hawk said in a faraway voice. “I am a man of reason and of peace.” He thrust the gun at her, presenting it in a lateral move. “Take this. I don’t know what has come over me.”

  Sasha immediately took the gun and turned to face Shogun’s wary lieutenants. “Meds have arrived with an armed escort to be sure they weren’t hijacked. We’ve experienced that before.”

  She waited and watched the Werewolves try to decipher the truth from the bit of yeast she added to it for peace. They had been hijacked before for antitoxin, and after a moment they accepted her rationale for the silver-slug-loaded shotgun coming through the door. Besides, what else could they do? She was a military-lab-made member of the Shadow Wolf Clan and didn’t own an aura with a silver lining, so whatever she said would have to be taken at face value.

  The thought gave her pause as she walked forward with Silver Hawk, Doc bringing up her rear. That meant she was inscrutable to even Hunter . . . deep. She was scaring herself and shook the inappropriate thought as she leaped up on the stage and helped Doc up with a hard pull.

  “My suggestion is that they take him out on a gurney to get the meds in him while not in this spell hot zone.” Sasha looked around at the men assembled. “He’ll need fluids—an IV hookup, maybe even oxygen—and he could even go into cardiac arrest, so the back of the ambulance, where they have a defibrillator and all the necessary elements of a crash cart, is the safest place for him. Once he stabilizes, we can transfer him to a room at Dugan’s old B&B . . . Without nurse Margaret there at Tulane, it could be risky to have him where humans could screw up his treatment—or be in harm’s way if something goes haywire.”

  “If he dies, you die,” Seung Kwon said, staring at Sasha.

  “How many times have I told you that if you address her out of order, it will be your ass, beta!” Huge canines ripped though Hunter’s gums, his wolf seconds from emerging.

  Sasha raised the shotgun and fired it toward the ceiling. “Safe haven!”

  The Werewolves surrounding Shogun hesitated. Hunter walked off the adrenaline rush, pacing. Silver Hawk’s lips circled into a snarl while Doc balled his fist at his sides, ready to fight to his death.

  “Two things, Seung Kwon—one, you are delaying a healing and you know Shadow Wolves are natural healers. Two, I have told you that there’s a bad spell affecting everyone. Look around.” She leveled the shotgun toward his chest. “You are talking a lot of trash in front of a really off-the-chain alpha male about his mate, going up against a military-trained alpha she-Shadow, standing in front of our clan elder, who has kicked more demon-infected Were-wolf ass in his lifetime than you can imagine, and who is just ready for a shape-shift. Plus, Doc ain’t no slouch. So, do not let the spell make you that foolish, because if you lunge, we will take you and your men down, hard and permanently. The only thing that has saved your stubborn, arrogant ass thus far is the fact that we’re trying like crazy to save your man, who, if you would listen, also happens to be Hunter’s brother. Now back off!”

  The door opened, causing everyone’s attention to train on the new potential threat. Woods and Fisher stood in the arc of waning sunlight, bearing M-16s.

  “What the lady said, motherfucker,” Woods shouted, spitting on the floor.

  “Which one you got a problem with, Captain?” Fisher said, brandishing a weapon as Bear Shadow and Crow Shadow blotted out the sun behind them.

  “It’s all good,” Sasha said, turning back to Seung Kwon. “Isn’t it?”

  Seung Kwon begrudgingly nodded and held both hands up in front of his chest. “As the lady suggests, all is well.”

  “Get that man on a livery,” Hunter ordered, walking away from Seung Kwon. “I want you—Bear and Crow—on their asses. Everybody stays cool while we work on my brother.” He looked at Woods and Fisher, giving them a nod of respect. “Familiars, good job. Back up my men.”

  “Roger that,” Woods said, spitting again and walking forward to take a defensive position.

  Sasha glimpsed Silver Hawk from the corner of her eye and could see another haphazardly parked jeep through the window. “Woods . . . tell ’Rissa, Bradley, and Winters to get word to the local Fae—I don’t want them near a flreflght, if one goes down. They need to regroup back at the B&B and stay put—have them focus on research.”

  “Yes, sir,” he called back to her with a salute.

  But she turned to Hunter, catching his line of vision and holding it. “I think I should do this healing . . . Silver Hawk may get more intel and clarity behind Shadow lines, you understand?”

  “I’m not leaving you here with them,” Hunter said, snarling in the direction of Shogun’s men. “They’re unstable and could rush you.”

  “Me and Doc are getting into the ambulance with Shogun . . . only a medical team.” She held his gaze, pleading with her eyes. Hunter was affected, and yet it was because of that that she needed to allow him to be in his full alpha glory. He had to be able to save face and still seem in control of the group.

  “I don’t like it.” Hunter rolled his shoulders.

  She went to him and embraced him, taking his mouth. “Safe haven,” she murmured. “Remember?”

  He stared at her for a few moments. “Safe haven,” he repeated quietly after a long pause. “But what if he comes out of the transformation in battle mode or something . . . I don’t want you to be vulnerable.”

  “Does he look like a man who can come out of a transformation ready for war, or does he look broken and in need of serious healing?” She kissed Hunter again, this time a slow and tender kiss. “I will be fine; we will be fine. Let me get this man medical attention while you purge your grandfather in the shadow lands . . . and maybe you can spirit walk as one to gather clues. We have to move—I just fired a shotgun in a commercial district. NOPD will be here soon, which will only complicate things.”

  It took a moment but finally Hunter nodded. He glanced around as he released his hold on her and then began barking out commands as his gaze slowly roved from his men to Shogun’s.

  “I want these men in your sights at all times. My mate is a practiced healer. She and Dr. Holland have been well versed in restoring botched transformations. They and only they are going to go in the ambulance with Shogun. We will all regroup back at the old Dugan B&B once we have clearance from Sasha to do so.”

  Hunter’s gaze locked with Seung Kwon’s in an open challenge that made the lesser-ranked wolf look away. “If anything happens to Sasha or her father, her familiars, or any of her humans while I am in the shadow lands with my grandfather to seek spiritual clues, I will hunt you down and slowly dismember you until even your own mothers won’t recognize your remains.”

  “My castle is in shambles! When Sasha brings her clan here, I want everything to be perfect for her! What about my orders do you not understand?” Sir Rodney swept away the long pole strung with freshly hunted quail, sending it crashing to the floor amid his bewildered kitchen staff. “She is a Shadow Wolf! I want the finest cuts of wild game on the hoof—bison, venison, moose, nothing domesticated, nothing poultry, and anything you put before her must be grilled to perfection! All of her meals must be rare, just singed on the outside with the natural juices bursting forth.”

  He then turned to the
other members of his beleaguered staff. “This castle must be face-lifted so that she only receives the greatest comfort! Goose down and silk should grace her bed; I want Faerie dust covering everything to keep her in a state of constant euphoria! Nothing can be left to chance, and if she goes wanting for anything I will hold you all personally responsible.”

  “As you wish, milord,” his patient valet of more than a century announced with a deep bow. “Shall I prepare a comparable suite for her husband . . . or would you want me to—”

  “Her husband! Her husband?” Sir Rodney shouted, making the staff lower their heads in fear. “She is not married! Where did you get a preposterous idea like that, Rupert?”

  The valet watched his master begin to pace and he spoke slowly, calmly, and in an extremely patient tone. “Milord . . . according to Shadow Wolf custom and culture, they mate for life. It is a bond that is unshakable, unless there is a formal hearing and cause for the dissolution of the union. So, please forgive me for using the incorrect terminology when referring to our guests of honor. I should have said life mate, not husband. I shall not make the mistake again.”

  “See that you don’t,” Sir Rodney said, hurling a bowl against the open hearth.

  Anxious staff members covered their heads as it shattered and then, in a rare display of angry magick, Sir Rodney made the broken pieces turn into small toads to hop away.

  Rupert waited a moment, still carefully watching the unusual behavior of his normally even-tempered and benevolent master. Something was definitely wrong. The mere mention of the she-Shadow’s mated status had sent the king of the Seelie Court into a vile explosion.

  Small kitchen Pixies still covered their heads, lying prostrate before the king on the stone floor. Why Sir Rodney, who even without his Fae glamour was a dead ringer for the handsome human actor Clive Owen, would have to go to such extremes for any female was beyond his comprehension. From what he gathered at court in the Pixie gossip, Sir Rodney could and had already availed himself of the most attractive Fae and human females . . . So why was this one she-wolf causing such a stir? There was no plausible explanation. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear his king had been bewitched—but who would be so bold as to commit an act of treason punishable by death or war?

 

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