Blood Oath (Shifters Unlimited Prequels Book 1)

by KH LeMoyne

  The man’s nostrils widened for a second as he glanced around. “Trails from the same female scent I detect here.” He glanced again at Roger and leaned closer, sniffing at his clothes. “The scent of a female youngling is all over him. Sister?”

  Thank the Goddess. “Mae’s alive?”

  He dipped his head once. “She was watching me.”

  “And you left her out there?” she shouted, unable to believe he’d left the little girl alone in the woods.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose in an action she now recognized well, and she realized at the same time that she’d nearly screeched at him. “Sorry. We’ve just been worried about her.”

  “Her scent was fresh, so she is lingering near her parents. They should wake soon enough to care for her.”

  Relieved to have one less person to worry about, she glanced back at the body beside her.

  “He was smothered,” the man said.

  He crouched down beside her. “I suspect with a pillow or some such.” He picked up her journal and scanned through the last few pages of her notes. Then he looked toward the other children with a shake of his head. “I should’ve suspected she wasn’t just missing. What a terrible waste.”

  He rose, closing the journal, and handed it back to her. Then he inhaled deeply, his eyes widening as he scrutinized the baby in her arms. Unnerved, she pushed herself farther away.

  “You grow one child in your womb and couldn’t possibly have given birth to the one you hold. And yet you hold him with ease and protect him with a familiarity that says you know what he is.”

  “Of course I protect him. He’s a baby, not a monster.” She jiggled the baby as it started to fuss again. “A threat to no one.”

  The grim lines of his face eased, and a partial smile broke through. “No truer words ever spoken, my dear lady.” Then his expression darkened again as he glanced down at the bodies. “Would it surprise you to know the other children had similar special traits?”

  “I’d wondered.” She brushed her fingers against the cloth wrapped around the baby, feeling the soft thrum of comfort he exuded. A vibration so like Dana’s, it made her heart ache. “I have no way of checking for that.”

  “Not yet, perhaps.” He eyed her belly with a gaze that suddenly doubled her discomfort. Then his head snapped up as Callum burst into the clearing.

  “What are you doing with my wife, sir?” Callum strode to her and moved between her and the stranger.

  The man inhaled again and scowled, and then he glanced around the clearing. “Where is Taggart?”

  Surprised, Gillian glanced up at Callum. He looked equally uncertain, but he reached a hand down to help support her as she stood, though he kept her behind him. He rubbed briefly around his collarbone but answered. “Taggart? If you mean Breslin, he’s right behind me. Should be here any minute. And you are?”

  The man shook his head and turned away, pacing toward the open doors of the cold room, then turned back toward them. “I’m known by many names, but you may call me Vendrick.”

  Breslin chose then to step into the clearing. His face was as unreadable as when they’d first met him, but tense white lines outlined his mouth and his eyes held more shadows than before. “She’s gone.”

  Vendrick nodded. He walked toward Gillian and altered course at the last moment, slapping his open palm, long white claws extended, against Callum’s chest. He’d moved so quickly, Gillian didn’t see the move coming. She felt her mate growl and his body shuddered. With a gasp, she reached to grab him from Vendrick’s grasp.

  But she couldn’t move. Or speak.

  “Don’t touch him until I’m done.”

  Like hell. She wasn’t taking orders from anybody when it came to her mate. Fighting against the strange immobilization, she jerked forward and managed to grab Callum from Vendrick’s grip. But evidently he was done. As Vendrick back-stepped, Callum sagged toward her. She slid an arm around his waist, not as much bearing his weight as giving him comfort. He didn’t look injured, though he gulped several strong deep breaths. Something he hadn’t been able to do since they’d left Karndottir’s territory.

  “What did you do to my mate?” She was getting darn tired of Vendrick pushing his power on unsuspecting people without their acceptance.

  “Buying him time from Karndottir.”

  Mouth pursed, she waited on Callum’s nod that he was okay before she marched before Vendrick and pointed a finger in his face. “You could have just asked first. Just like you should have asked before you put Roger to sleep.”

  “A waste of time,” Vendrick said as he bent over her, fists on his hips, staring down pointedly. “You two are a conundrum. A shifter who has never shifted. The other who stinks of Karndottir’s power. Mates who haven’t mated. You two are an unusual couple.”

  Callum patted her shoulder as he eased her away from Vendrick and tucked her at his side. “I’m fine. I even feel better.”

  “You won’t for long,” Vendrick snarled, his eyes lighting again with red. “I have bought you three days at the most. You both need to go to Alpha Black. He’s the only one who can remove the taint from you and protect the infant.”

  She watched Callum blink and knew he didn’t agree. He had a plan for everything. This wouldn’t be any different. But if Vendrick the super magic guy had eased Callum’s dependence or attachment to their old alpha, then perhaps they should heed his advice. Granted, she only had Vendrick’s word that he’d helped Roger and Mae’s parents. Yet a quick glance at Roger confirmed his complexion was already less pale and his breathing appeared regular. A wonderful accomplishment and a feat of magic she’d like to add to her own repertoire. Along with the shifting and the instant-clothes thing.

  Callum, however, didn’t look convinced. “We were planning on passing through this territory.”

  Vendrick crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re lying, and I wasn’t offering you an option. It was an order.”

  “I already took an oath to one alpha,” Callum responded, a stubborn look settling on his face. “I have little desire to try with another.”

  “You would judge the man without meeting him.” Vendrick responded with ease.

  “He has the power to send my mate back to an alpha who will abuse her.”

  “In case it hasn’t occurred to you, I have that power as well. I suggest you don’t provoke me.” Vendrick scowled. “Not all shifters are the same. Why would you expect alphas to be the same?”

  “Are you sure sending them to him is the best idea?” Breslin asked.

  Gillian heartened at his interceding on their behalf. Whatever relationship there was between Breslin and Vendrick, it seemed obvious they knew each other well. Despite that, he wasn’t just backing Vendrick’s plan to send them on their way.

  “For many reasons, it’s the only option left.” Vendrick handed Callum a piece of paper. Gillian eyed the few lines of directions. “Stop at the farm on the way back to town and pick up goat’s milk for the baby. The train will get you to the alpha’s sanctuary in two days, but the cottage on that paper is midway, near Spokane. You can rest there and get more milk for the baby.”

  He now focused solely on Gillian, as if realizing she might be the one to ensure his orders were followed. “Don’t linger there more than a night. You must get to Black before Karndottir sends more men. Because he will send them.”

  She didn’t respond, though she agreed. Callum had borne an enormous weight trying to break Karndottir’s hold, and it wouldn’t get easier. They needed help, or she risked her mate making a bad decision to save her—one ending with him deciding she’d be better off without him.

  She vehemently disagreed, and she suspected Vendrick and Breslin would as well. Since they wouldn’t be traveling with them, it was best to get going before Callum had too much time to overthink the problem. Delighted to leave and put as much space between them and this tragedy, she hesitated and looked to Breslin. “Will you make sure Roger gets to his parents?”

&n
bsp; “We won’t let anything happen to him.” As if the words weren’t enough of a binding agreement, Breslin walked over to stand beside Roger’s quiet form, a silent guard for the boy.

  She tugged at Callum’s arm, but he stood rooted in place, his attention focused on Vendrick before he glanced at Breslin. “You’ll be all right here?”

  Breslin nodded again, but his expression remained unreadable.

  “Well, thank you for all your help.”

  Gillian gave him a little wave as well. Callum might consider him out of their sphere, but even rogue mercenaries needed friends. And who knew, maybe they’d see him again one day.

  10

  As soon as Callum and Gillian left, Vendrick knelt by the deceased children, one palm to the earth. Breslin sucked in a breath as a blue flame erupted from the soil circling the bodies and formed a dome over them.

  Hell. He never got used to Vendrick’s magic. He doubted many lived to tell the tales of having witnessed the things he’d seen.

  The flames pulsed as Vendrick stood and slowly raised his arms, turning his palms skyward. A long broadsword appeared in his hands, and he started a low chant. With each stanza of the archaic words, the flame began to circle and dance as if hypnotized by his actions.

  White lights appeared around the outer circle of flame. Dots that spun faster and faster until, at once, they collided and formed three sentient, if incorporeal, beings. Well, sentient because from experience he knew these beings acted under their own counsel. Vendrick called them, but their realm wasn’t under his domain.

  He could make out their shapes. Women in thigh-length white robes with bracers on their forearms, woven tiaras of gold on their heads, and thick heavy wings that extended from between their shoulder blades in plumes of green, purple, midnight blue. Each bore a sword of her own. As a group, they walked into the center of the fire.

  Prickles ran over his skin as one of the women glanced his way. He probably shouldn’t be watching, but he couldn’t force himself to look away.

  One by one, they bent and touched their hands to the head of each child. As if awoken, a gossamer essence arose from each child’s body, then the combined essences clustered around the women. One of the women raised a large curled horn hanging by a strap at her side and blew.

  Wind and heat whipped Breslin’s face, and grief assaulted him, whether from the fire or the fury the women conjured, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. He had a vague idea who they were, but knowing and believing weren’t concepts he was prepared to embrace right now.

  The company glanced Vendrick’s way, not sparing Breslin another look, and with a final flare of the horn and explosion of blue flame, they disappeared.

  Only a charred circle of earth remained where previously the bodies had lain. He glanced up and found Vendrick staring at him. “Go ahead and ask.”

  “What are they, and why do you do this?”

  “Ritual.” Before Breslin could snap back a sarcastic retort, Vendrick continued. “They are relatives of sorts. Not all is as the historians believe, and death is not always the end. For the brave and the innocent, sometimes there are other paths.”

  “They’re still gone from this earth and missing to their families.” A lesson he knew all too well, even though some small spark of hope ignited within him that perhaps his brothers and parents had earned a shot at whatever alternative Vendrick hinted at. But a fairy tale wasn’t worth wasting his time on.

  “True. Though the pregnant cougar shifter has enough details for Black to track the families down. They’ll have closure.” Vendrick turned and strode away, clearly expecting to be followed. “But we are not gods and cannot control every outcome, as much as we might wish. Best to remember to live fully the life you have.”

  Breslin sighed. This sounded too close to religion, which he didn’t subscribe to either. The only thing he wanted his mind to process was the long overdue discussion about ending his tenure as the ghost enforcer and going after Gauthier Karndottir himself. He picked up Roger and followed Vendrick on a twisting path through the woods.

  As they entered another clearing, he saw the still forms of a man and a woman. He sniffed, relieved to smell only a trace of blood and hear the steady, healthy heartbeats of both people.

  “Place the boy by his parents,” Vendrick commanded.

  Casting him a puzzled look, Breslin did as asked. He stepped away as Vendrick bent and touched the boy’s shoulder. Roger groaned and glanced around, freezing when he caught sight of both of them.

  “Call for your sister after we leave. She’s hiding in the bushes a few feet away. We are borrowing your father’s wagon, but I’ll leave it at Rosie’s in town. You shouldn’t have far to walk home, as it’s over that ridge.” Vendrick gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

  Roger sat up, rubbing at his eyes, but nodded as he looked around, recognition showing on his face.

  Without another word, Vendrick turned on his heel and headed back the way they’d come. Breslin strode behind him. After a few moments, they emerged from the wooded area onto the narrow lane leading to the main road. The Hunts’ wagon stood where he’d checked it earlier.

  “Now what?” Breslin asked, climbing onto the bench beside Vendrick.

  “Now we head into town. Watch to make sure the mated couple leaves without being followed. And I get some pie.”

  The thought of food turned Breslin’s stomach, but he supposed the diner was as good a place as any to have his discussion. He sat in silence for the twenty or so minutes it took to get to town, then waited until they’d secured the wagon behind the boardinghouse and walked to the diner where he’d met Gillian and Callum.

  When they were seated at the corner table of the nearly empty diner, with Vendrick’s double slice of pie and coffee before him, Breslin opened with his decision. “This is the last person I bury and erase from existence.”

  “Then we agree.”

  That was too easy. “On what?”

  Vendrick glanced up, fork tines pointed toward the plate, but his eyes glowed blue, nearly a match to the flames from earlier. “If you are finished, then you owe me my debt.”

  Hell, that little detail had slipped his mind in the mayhem of the day. You will do what I say, and I will train you to be an unbeatable assassin. For this, you will owe me a debt. Once done, you can go kill Gauthier. Right. Now all he had to do was accomplish some impossible feat for Vendrick. This was where he died without accomplishing his life’s goal. “What do you want?”

  “Present yourself to Deacon at Black Haven.”

  “Like hell I’m going to the alpha.” Breslin clenched his hands on the table, tempted to upend the piece of wood and storm out. This was a shit request to end a shit day. He didn’t even care how Vendrick responded.

  Only decades of training forced him not to pursue a death move, and he remained still. A leaden sense of disquiet lingered inside him, as if he wasn’t sitting in a public diner. If he closed his eyes, he might still be in the woods with small, still bodies and hear off-kilter laughter floating in the breeze. When had his life become so screwed up? Oh, right. When Gauthier had killed his entire family and left him alive.

  Tines on the plate brought him back to reality and Vendrick’s prolonged silence.

  Not a good sign.

  He’d always been able to speak his mind with Vendrick, but his mentor wasn’t human. He probably wasn’t even a shifter. There were limits to how much disrespect the big, seemingly immortal being allowed.

  “How would you rate your performance today?” Vendrick asked, finishing his slice of cherry pie in one bite. Breslin looked away. He could barely stomach his coffee.

  “The woman’s no longer a threat. Three children are safe. And I didn’t have to take a life.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. She was guilty. Her crimes deserved justice. But she wasn’t in her right mind.

  “Have you ever considered there’s an expiration date to being effective at what you do?”

  Breslin fro
wned but kept silent. Whatever Vendrick’s thought, he wouldn’t go back to spilling blood for a living. Only taking the head of the Canadian alpha held any interest for him.

  And then? Nothing came to mind.

  “Given what this woman perpetrated, she had a death sentence on her head.” Vendrick continued, “There is no cure for her disease.”

  Breslin closed his eyes, sickening pity and fury raging inside him. “Does her disease come with a knack for finding the rarest of our kind?”

  “I’m uncertain how she pinpointed the children. I should have thought to tie her to the cases of missing children I was researching. But I never suspected a woman…” A swift silver glimmer flashed through Vendrick’s eyes, gone as quickly as it had appeared. “I should have known. They are truly the more clever of the species.”

  “None of this explains why you want to break my cover and turn me over to Alpha Black.”

  “Evidently, I give you too much credit for intelligence. Do you really believe an assassin could travel this territory and commit unsanctioned kills at will?”

  The minor amount of coffee he’d swallowed churned like acid, and bile rose in his throat. He should have seen this coming. Yet nowhere in his past dealings with Vendrick did he anticipate the immortal being under Deacon Black’s thumb.

  “I don’t particularly care for the thoughts going through your mind,” Vendrick hissed, his eyes now a frozen blue and claws extending from his fingers.

  Breslin froze. He didn’t blink much less breathe, but then fury got the best of him. “Why bother to plan such an elaborate scheme—one you perpetrated for decades? I’m one shifter. He could have just taken me out whenever he pleased. Why play with me?”

  Vendrick leaned across the table, his eyes turning from ice to pitch. “He did not play with you and neither did I. You are not just the last remaining evidence of your parents’ union. You are part and parcel of my creation, as every other shifter on this planet owes their existence to my kind. You were spawned to be the best, not the worst, of my efforts. And only because of the shifting tide of more honorable alphas such as Deacon do I refrain from wiping you away so I can start again.”