Mercy Temple Chronicles Box Set

by Ciara Graves

  The Gathered acted like I could trust them, though Damian said I couldn’t. Now Bowen was suddenly watching out for me, and even Rufus—his horrible diet aside—had treated me almost like one of his own right before I’d dragged him in.

  The Underground was changing. Allegiances were changing, and as I watched the flickering flames in the hearth, a voice inside me said, sooner rather than later, I’d have to pick a side.

  But a side in what?

  Damian and the mages said a storm was coming. Was this the start of it?

  “Mercy?” Bowen’s hand rested on mine, his brow wrinkled. “You sure you should’ve come out?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “Just lost in thought is all.”

  “I can see that. Why don’t I grab you something from the bar and I’ll let you relax.”

  “No,” I said quickly right before he could blur away from the table. “I actually came to talk to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, so make sure you come back.”

  He gave me a subtle grin then was gone in a blink.

  I settled back in my chair, scooting it even closer to the warmth of the fire.

  My eyes drifted shut as I listened to the voices murmuring around me. Jaxton’s name was mentioned a few times. So was murder and the possibility of a war. A few others said it would never happen, but even more seemed to think this was what the murderer intended. But why? There was no gain in causing the werewolves to kill each other. At least, none I could see. The only logical explanation was that the killer had a history with the werewolves. Or with Jaxton. I had no details on how the killing happened though, so at the moment, everyone was suspect.

  A bottle being set on the table roused me.

  Bowen was seated across from me. Blood for him and beer for me.

  “What did you want to talk to me about so badly you dragged your weak ass out of your apartment all the way to the Underground? And please tell me it has nothing to do with Sawyer’s murder.”

  I sipped my beer instead of answering.

  “Shit, Mercy. What are you doing getting involved? Haven’t you had enough near-death experiences for a while?”

  “The other alphas,” I explained. “They put a bounty on the murderer.”

  “It’s true, then? They didn’t do it?”

  “Don’t know what’s true. And I won’t until I go to Sector 18 which Damian will not let me do alone…” I studied his face, gave a half-shrug. “So, what do you say, partner?”

  “You expect me to agree to this?”

  I groaned, hanging my head. “Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m trying to do anything crazy.”

  “Have you seen the reports coming out of Sector 18?” he asked sharply. “And you just what—want to walk in there and start asking questions? Turning over rocks? Poking the sleeping werewolf? What happens when it all turns out to be a lie, and one of the packs did in fact put a hit out on Jaxton?” He hissed, eyes flaring as he drained his bottle of blood in one gulp. “I will not agree to put you in that much danger. Bad enough I didn’t follow you when you disappeared with Liam.”

  “You do realize you don’t have to keep me safe, right?” I reminded him quietly. “That’s never been your job. Ever.”

  He glared into the fire.

  The sudden raw emotion on his face had my breath catching. I gripped my beer bottle so hard I was surprised it didn’t shatter.

  “I care for you. Or do you not understand that yet?” he said so quietly I wasn’t entirely sure I was supposed to hear it. “You’re not invincible, and being this reckless is only going to get you killed.”

  “Why do you care?” I found myself asking. “I’ve treated you like shit.”

  “I’ve let you treat me that way,” he mused with a crooked grin that showed off his fangs. “You don’t scare me. Not even close.”

  “Then why let me talk to you like that?”

  “You’re broken. I sensed others treated you the same. You seemed to feel better when you were letting out your inner anger.” He chuckled quietly. “And I like talking to you.”

  I was willing to buy it, until his gaze flickered away, and then back. “What else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re lying to me. You and Damian, both. What aren’t you telling me,” I snapped, losing what little patience I had.

  How could I have thought I could trust Bowen? He was exactly like everyone else in my life lately. Acting one way, while lying to my face.

  “I am not,” he said, emphasizing each word.

  His mind control pushed against my mind, but the magic in me shoved back ten times harder, and he winced, holding his forehead as I barked a laugh.

  “Damn it.”

  “Nice to know that will never work on me.” But even as I gloated, a rush of exhaustion made me sink lower in my chair. I wasn’t supposed to be using magic at all, but hard to do that when it had a mind of its own. My eyes closed, and I was partly out of my chair when a firm hand put me upright again.

  “I’m fine,” I muttered to Bowen, who was now crouched beside my chair. “Man, I really need to find something else to say.” I was getting tired of hearing myself say those words.

  “How do you expect me to agree to go with you now?”

  “Because whether you or Damian wants me to or not,” I mumbled, “I’m going to find this murdering asshole and stop him before a war breaks out.” I leaned in closer and added, “You and I both know if there is a war, it won’t be contained in Sector 18. And then what?”

  “You are one person. You can’t stop it alone.”

  “Watch me.”

  He took my hand, and the grin he gave me said he wasn’t really seeing me, not at that moment. “Damned stubborn, just like—”

  “You,” a snarl came from behind us, cutting Bowen off.

  Bowen was on his feet. “Leave. Right now.”

  “Not until I ask her,” the growling voice snapped. “She did it. Didn’t she? The scar-faced bitch! You killed him!”

  Puffing out my cheeks, I considered ignoring the werewolf—clearly from the Silver Howlers pack—and letting Bowen handle it, but that just wasn’t who I was. I took a long gulp of my beer then stood to face the not one, but five, werewolves staring me down. Their eyes glowed yellow, and they were close to shifting. Very close.

  “What do you want to ask me now?” I asked lightly.

  “You killed Jaxton Sawyer,” the wolf with the long, grey beard stated.

  “That’s not a question,” I pointed out. “But for the record, no, I didn’t kill him. I haven’t left Sector 21 in two weeks, and I have plenty of witnesses to vouch for me, so back off.”

  The werewolf opened his mouth, then Bowen hissed loudly, and the rest of the quiet murmuring voices in the bar went silent.

  “You heard her. Now back off, friend, or I’ll make you back off.”

  “He wasn’t killed by another werewolf. She did it.”

  Bowen pointed toward the door. “Out. Now.”

  “Who hired you to do it, huh? Who?” he yelled as Bowen shoved him toward the door. “Tell me, damn it! I’ll kill you for it, I will! It was the other alphas, wasn’t it? They did this! Down with them all. Down with Colton and Rubella!”

  The second the words left his mouth, Shep and several other werewolves in the place growled and snarled as the tension in the room grew tenfold.

  Shep was part of the Silent Eyes pack and from the tattoos on several others leaning against the bar, so were they. The rest, I sensed, were from the Nightshade Furs. This was going to get ugly very quickly if Bowen couldn’t get that asshole with the big mouth and his buddies out of here. I was on the move without even registering this might not be the best idea, giving Bowen a hand in shoving he Silver Howlers to the door.

  “Don’t you touch me, you murderer,” one of them snarled, grabbing hold of my wrist painfully.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I warned.

  His grip intensified. />
  “You really think I wanted to start all this shit? Look at what you’re causing.”

  But there was no talking to them.

  The werewolf threw the first punch.

  I dodged it, then landed one of my own.

  Two more Silver Howlers broke away from the group, and within seconds, the bar erupted in complete chaos.

  On a good day, I might’ve been up for an old-fashioned brawl, but in my weakened state, it was all I could do to stay on my feet until Bowen yanked me out of the line of fire, throwing me to the side.

  “Stay there!” he ordered.

  I planned on doing just that. Too bad the werewolf who came after me had other plans.

  I ducked and weaved around him as he punched air, growling furiously each time he missed me. He stumbled over chairs and tables, shoving others out of his way trying to get to me.

  I finally went for his legs, tackling him to the floor. I punched him once, gasping from the immense pain the hit caused. I was used to fighting with the aid of my dragon strength and magic, but with magic out of whack, I was not as strong.

  The jarring pain caught me off guard, and the bastard picked me up and threw me across the room.

  The potion I took had all but worn off as adrenaline pumped and I threw a chair, scrambling to get away as that hulking figure charged at me again. His fist collided with my face as he hauled me to my feet.

  I went dizzy, fighting to stay conscious.

  His fist drew back for a second hit, but then suddenly he was gone.

  I slumped to the floor.

  Bowen grabbed hold of the werewolf and threw him out the front window of the bar as Shep threatened to call the cops if they didn’t all clear out right quick.

  Once everyone was gone, Shep locked the door, glowering at the broken window, then at Bowen. “You better fix that.”

  “Just a window,” Bowen muttered as he blurred back to my side. “You alright?”

  “Fantastic,” I muttered sarcastically as I used the wall to stand up. That lasted a whole three seconds before my knees gave out. I would’ve hit the floor hard, but Bowen caught me, supporting me.

  “Alright, this was not the best idea in the world.”

  “You think? And you want to go after a murderer. Shep? I’m taking her home.”

  He waved us off as he grabbed a broom to start cleaning up the mess left by the fight. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “You two are overreacting,” I mumbled, hating how my words slurred. “I’m good.”

  “No, you’re not. You can’t even stand upright on your own.”

  “Sure I can,” I insisted and pushed off him. “See? Perfectly fine—shit!”

  Bowen caught me again, scowling.

  “Alright, fine, you can get my ass home.”

  He grabbed my coat, helped my fumbling and weak limbs get in it, then we were leaving the Wailing Siren behind.

  Arguing came from all around us, and then the vampire patrol was there, yelling at them all to get a move on.

  Bowen maneuvered us through the crowd easily enough, and the burst of cold sucked the air right out of my lungs. He started down the sidewalk, but I squeezed his arm.

  “My bike.”

  “I’ll bring it to you later.”

  “No. Everyone knows it’s mine. I’m not leaving it here with those assholes who suddenly have it out for me. They’ll scrap it.”

  “It’s a bike.”

  “No. That’s not just a bike. That’s half a year’s paydays,” I argued.

  “You can’t drive.”

  “Then you drive, but I’m not leaving without it.”

  He hissed in annoyance but gave in and turned us back around. He grabbed the helmet and gently put it on my head then climbed on. I got on behind him, wrapping my arms around his body to hold on.

  One of his hands held mine, as if worried I’d fall off at some point. I wondered how he’d manage to drive us with one hand, but then we were off, and I tucked my head against his back. We got to my place within minutes, and as he parked the bike, I hopped off, looking at him in confusion.

  “What’s with the look?”

  “How do you know where I live?” I set the helmet on the bike.

  He grinned. “I know many things. Let’s get you inside and get some ice on that face of yours. You’re going to have one hell of a shiner in the morning.”

  I waited for any sense of apprehension to fill me at letting Bowen into my apartment, but as we walked inside and climbed the stairs to the top floor, the only feeling I had was wanting to sit down, and not move for a while. I unlocked the door and flipped on the lights.

  “Not much. So no judging,” I murmured, kicking out of my boots, then dropping my coat over one of the kitchen chairs. I managed to get to the couch before I fell over and laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling. “This sucks.”

  “What?” he asked.

  Ice clanked as he dug around in the freezer.

  “Me? This curse? All of it?” My fingers found my scar and ran down it. The cause for everything going to shit in my life. “You don’t have to stay, you know. You got me home in one piece.”

  “Too bad.”

  There was a light breeze, and then something cold was gently pressed against my bruised face. I opened my right eye—the left blocked by ice wrapped in a towel—to find Bowen giving me another annoyed look. Pretty sure I’d set a record tonight of how many he could give me.

  “If I say no to helping you, you’re going to go to Sector 18 anyway.”

  “Smart vampire.”

  He hung his head, whispering something about pain in the ass women. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but you have to let me be your muscle. You aren’t strong enough to hold your own in a fight yet.”

  “If it gets me the answers I need, how about we just paint a scar on your face and give you a wig?”

  He rolled his eyes as I laughed.

  “What? That was funny.”

  “That was pathetic.”

  I held my hand over the ice, so he could get up, but he sat down on the floor right by the couch.

  “I took a hit to the head. Give me a break.” I shifted my shoulders around until I got comfortable.

  A swish of air, and a blanket was draped over me. I caught Bowen as he returned to his seated position, not even having seen him move. “Earlier you started to say I was as stubborn as someone, but you didn’t say who.”

  “Think you hit your head harder than you remember.”

  “You know you and Damian could have a pissing contest as far as who lies more,” I grumbled, grabbing my cell from my pocket and texting my boss, letting him know Bowen was on board, so he could call the other alphas and give them the good news. “We’ll probably head out tomorrow.”

  “No,” he argued. “Give yourself a couple more days at least.”

  “Whatever you say, Doctor Bowen.”

  “Rest, Mercy.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes after I sent the message to Damian, and tugging the blanket further up. “Feel free to leave.”

  “Not going anywhere. Just sleep.”

  I mumbled something about him being overprotective for no reason, and then I was drifting away.

  A cold hand closed over mine, and I smiled, but fell deeper into darkness…

  “Catch her,” a voice shouted as flames engulfed the house.

  I ran and ran, crying as I tripped and fell, smashing my knee on a tree root. Snow fell around me in a flurry of white flakes. I was leaving tracks, but there was no way to help it. My hands glowed, my magic rushing to the surface to protect me. A scream filled with so much pain tore through the night, and I spun around horrified.

  “Mama,” I whispered. Then I shrieked. “Mama! No!”

  “Get back here!”

  “Get the child! Stop her!”

  I took off again, tears blinding me, sobs making it hard to breathe, but I never slowed, never stopped. Sirens wailed in the distance. Help was coming, but th
ey were too late. Too late to save my parents from the fire devouring them. I looked behind me, crying out in alarm when more shadows charged for me out of the darkness, bursting through the snow like rabid beasts. When I turned back around, there was no time to stop before I slammed right into a solid form.

  Glowing green eyes looked down at me, sickly green, almost like they were ill. Hands reached for me. My magic burst outward, ready to defend me. The man reaching for me hissed, and then he grabbed hold of me, shaking me. I screamed over and over again. Shouts rang out. Then there was gunfire and more yelling. The man’s hands flared that same sickly green, and then he was in my face, flashing fangs. But he was using magic. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

  My magic fought against his, and a resounding blast sent us flying away from each other, through the trees. The man—no, the monster—ran off, leaving me in the snow. Everything hurt. Blood coated my face, my eye… I was going to die out here… die all alone…

  “Mercy!”

  “What?” I shot upright, confused by the feeling of cold hands on my shoulders, and why there was someone here with me at all. Flashes from my nightmare slammed into me, and I flailed, trying to get away from the green-eyed man. But it wasn’t green eyes staring back at me worriedly. Red. Red eyes meant vampire.

  “Bowen?” I stopped fighting him and winced as the pain hit me a second later. “Gah! Shit!”

  “What is it?”

  “Face… scar hurts like I was cursed all over again.” I gasped as the pain turned to a burn.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Bathroom. Help me get up,” I said, failing to get up under my own power.

  Bowen simply picked me up instead and set me down in the bathroom, flipping the light on. I ran the water as cold as I could get it and splashed it on my face, crying out when it hit the sensitive skin. If Bowen hadn’t been holding me up, I would’ve fallen to my knees. When I couldn’t get myself to do it again, he did it for me, his face set as he inadvertently caused me pain.