“Yeah, they did.” Tennyson looked away, wiping roughly at his eyes as he cleared his throat.
“Who did you lose, Ten?”
He cleared his throat again and sniffed. “A demon draws power from his or her mate,” he continued, ignoring her question. Then again, she’d had no right to pry. “So, you see the problem. No mate equals no power. Most of those demons died once their energy was sucked dry.”
“When did they figure out they needed to keep the mates?”
Tennyson glanced up at Brock and smirked. “Right about the time you came home.”
“They get Brock out of the way so they can harness Moira’s powers.” Pacing back and forth in the small space beside the bed, Koba looked down at his hands as though they held the secrets of the universe. “Once they realized they couldn’t harness powers a demon doesn’t have, they bring him back to claim her.”
“Rip saw,” Moira added quietly. “He runs off to give the good news, and two days later, Koba is kidnapped. Why leave me, though?”
“I guess they figured you weren’t done yet.” A mischievous grin spread over Tennyson’s face when Moira arched an eyebrow at him. “Another five minutes in the oven before you’re ready.”
“Actually,” Koba said slowly, drawing the word out, “they did say something in that direction. I just didn’t realize that Brock was the incubator.”
Moira wrinkled her nose and made a face at her mate. “That’s gross. You can seriously stop talking now.”
The wink she received in return wasn’t unexpected. Since it didn’t help, however, she ignored it. “This is all great.” She was finally getting answers, but it didn’t change anything. “We still don’t know how to beat them.” Knowing why they wanted her wasn’t going to help her escape them, and someone she loved was going to end up getting hurt. They would, unless…
“I don’t like that look, Mo. What are you thinking?”
Good thing Brock couldn’t read her mind. No doubt, he’d never agree to what she had percolating inside her brain. “I have a plan.”
* * * *
“No! Absolutely not!” Brock roared.
Koba snarled and slammed his fist down on the coffee table. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
Maybe she should have told them of her plan before they’d gotten home. At this rate, they were going to destroy everything in the house. “This will work.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Damon snapped, sticking his big nose into business that didn’t concern him.
“It’s suicide,” Tate agreed, and she didn’t like him any better for it.
“No it’s not. If they kill me, they can’t use me for what they want. Put aside your feelings and think. You know I’m right.”
“Maybe, but too damn bad.” Jumping up from the sofa like he had springs on his ass, Brock stomped across the carpeted floor and grabbed her face in both hands. “What you are failing to realize is that this is personal. I’m not letting you go out there like some goddamn kamikaze.”
“Or a sacrificial lamb.”
Moira turned her head to look a Ryah, hoping her face portrayed all the betrayal she felt. She’d anticipated Brock’s and Koba’s reactions. Damon and Tate siding with them hadn’t been a surprise, either. Of everyone in the room, she’d thought Ryah would be the one to understand why she needed to do this.
“I want your support on this,” she said, letting her gaze travel over the room to include each person there. “I don’t need it, though. I’m not helpless, and I can end this before it even starts.”
“You. Are. Going. To. Die!” Brock bit out each word, his face becoming redder with every passing second.
“Then I’ll die!” She wasn’t into the whole self-sacrificing thing, but if her death saved the lives of dozens of others, then so be it.
“That’s not courage.” Koba rose from the sofa as well, but instead of coming to her, he backed away toward the hall. “That’s selfishness.” It wasn’t a dramatic exit, per se, but his parting statement cut her right to the bone.
Did he think this was what she wanted? “I don’t have a death wish.”
“Could have fooled me,” Brock muttered snidely.
“Just listen. If we give them what they want, they have no reason to attack us. They’ll leave town, you’ll track them, and we catch them by surprise.”
“Baby, I love that you care so much for the people around you, but it doesn’t work that way. They’ll know we’re coming for you. Besides, according to Ten, your powers will weaken unless me or Koba are with you. It’s too dangerous, and I can’t let you do it.”
Well, at least he wasn’t yelling at her anymore, and the little vein in his forehead had stopped throbbing. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.” Didn’t he get it? Didn’t he understand? “This is because of me, Brock. Everything that has happened is because of me. It’s my fault, and I can’t let other people die because of what I am.”
“You’re a demon not the plague.” Ryah snorted and rolled her eyes. “You really need to get over yourself, honey. No one was forced to come here. Even if you weren’t in the picture, we’d all be here fighting. It’s not just you, Moira. It’s everyone. These places, the demons, the innocent people in these rural towns—we fight for them, for the people who can’t fight for themselves. It’s not all about you.”
Perhaps Koba was right. She’d only wanted to help, to prevent as much bloodshed as possible. After the dressing down her sister had just delivered, she felt just as selfish as Koba claimed she was acting. There should be a how-to book on fighting maniacal bad guys.
“Fine.” She wasn’t going to back down that easily, but she could be reasonable. “No one thinks this will work, so fine. Come up with a better idea before the full moon, because once the sun sets in six days, I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I love.”
* * * *
It was bullshit. He could have just as easily turned himself over on a silver platter, but what would that accomplish? Moira wanted to talk about personal feelings, yet she was the one allowing her emotions to rule her.
Koba needed air. The closer the full moon crept, the more the walls seemed to close in around him until he felt like he was suffocating. They were all born to a blood right. He, as an omega, was meant to bring peace to his chosen pack. Brock had been born from a long line of alphas, inheriting a legacy dating back hundreds of years.
By birth and by blood, Moira was an omega, a demon omega. By heart and by will, she was a warrior. No one knew why she’d been hidden away in a lycan pack. They could only speculate as to what purpose her banishment served. All the secrets of her past rested with her father. Koba doubted the guy was in town to reunite and bond with his daughter, however.
Whatever their lineage, nothing was set in stone. They were each free to choose their own path, and Koba’s destination didn’t include dying on a sacrificial altar. Nor did he have any desire to help some psycho alpha douchebag increase his pack numbers and keep them in line.
“That’s it.” Spinning around, he found Brock standing in the doorway with his hands shoved in his pocket. “We keep them in line.”
“Excuse me?”
“If we can cut the numbers down to just the four in charge, we stand a better chance of winning.”
“True.” Brock’s eyebrows drew together, and he took a couple of steps into the room. “How do you suppose we do that?”
“If I can wrap everyone up in a warm blanket of coziness, they won’t be so eager to fight for the cause.”
“No.” Shaking his head firmly, Brock eased down on the edge of the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a good idea. Don’t get me wrong. None of our enemies recognize me as their alpha. With the amount of energy it would take to influence all of them, it would be like pumping them all full of tequila and Viagra.”
“Good.” If Brock didn’t stop shaking his head, Koba was going to smack him. “Let them want me. If I can lead them away, that wil
l give the rest of you a chance to get to the alphas.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m fast. You know I am. Besides, love, lust, and loyalty aren’t the only things I can make them feel. Once I get them far enough away, I can make them confused and afraid, which will give me an opportunity to get away.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. It will work, and everyone will be safe. You know I like myself way too much to do something stupid that would get my ass killed.”
Brock laughed quietly, just as Koba had hoped he would. If his lover wasn’t ranting, raving, and ready to throttle him, that meant he knew Koba had a valid point. It was certainly the best plan they’d come up with so far. “Moira’s not going to like it, either.”
“I’ll deal with Moira.” It didn’t exactly top his list of favorite things to do on a Friday night, but he’d do it.
“We need to have a meeting, let everyone know what’s going on. Just because I’m agreeing with you doesn’t mean that I’m not worried. I’m sending Casey and Joss with you in case you get yourself into trouble.”
“Not a good idea. With that many people, I can’t control who I influence.”
“We’ll spell out all the risks and then let everyone decide for themselves what they’re comfortable with and how much they think they can handle.”
“Mmm, I like it when you’re all rational.” Sauntering closer, he straddled Brock’s thighs and pushed him back to the mattress. “It’s very sexy when you agree with me.”
“Knock it off,” Moira grumped, slamming the door and diving on to the bed beside them. “Why is it okay for Koba to walk into the fire? I’m a demon, for crying out loud. I wrote the book on fire and brimstone and all that junk.”
“Really? Was it a bestseller?”
Moira huffed and punched him playfully in the arm. “You know what I meant. I’m going to help.”
“Yes, you are,” Brock announced, surprising Koba. Judging by the look on Moira’s face, the news was just as unexpected to her as well. “Get everyone together. I have a real plan.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do, right?”
A chorus of agreement went around the group of men and women gathered in the barn. Joss had come through, convincing half a dozen of their own pack to rise up to the challenge, increasing their numbers to fifty-three.
Brock knew his father had been busy creating Walkers, but there was no way to know exactly how many they were facing. They’d gone over and over the plan until he thought his brain would bleed. Now, he just had to believe that it would work.
“Then let’s go.” They’d all decided that it made the most sense to present a united front. Steven Lancaster and his band of merry delinquents would already know their numbers, so trying to hide the fact that they had backup would be a pointless waste of time.
The other thing they agreed on was for the meeting to take place on their terms, which meant they chose the location. Leading their faction through the dense trees, the irony of their chosen meeting place wasn’t lost on him.
He’d never seen or heard of anything to lend credence to the local’s claims that the Wicked River was haunted or cursed. There was a very real possibility that the waters of the creek would run red with blood under this full moon, though.
Spilling even the blood of the wicked had never appealed to him, and he hoped it didn’t come to that. Given no choice, however, he was prepared to defend himself and the people who depended on him.
“Brock, I’m nervous.”
Winding one arm around Moira’s waist and taking Koba’s hand on his other side, Brock squeezed them both in reassurance. “I know, baby. This will work, though.”
“I know.” Moira bumped their hips together and smiled. “I mean I was nervous about seeing my dad for the first time. I already know he’s a homicidal bastard, but…”
She trailed off without finishing, but Brock understood. Whatever her father had done, he was still her father. Sure, she’d never met him, knew nothing about him, but in some ways, that only made it worse. Without seeing it with her own eyes, Moira could spin all kind kinds of fantasies about why her father had abandoned her and what he was like.
In a few minutes, all of those fantasies were going to come crumbling down around her. Brock would have been worried if she wasn’t nervous about it. He didn’t look forward to seeing his father for the first time in almost a year, especially under the circumstances. They’d never really seen eye to eye on…well, anything, but it was a hard thing to realize that his father was capable of such evil and cruelty.
“Well, I’m about to whore myself out to about a hundred people who want to eat me. I’m cool as a cucumber, though.” Stopping just before they reached the edge of the trees that would open up to the banks of Wicked River, Koba released Brock’s hand and began removing his clothing. “Here goes nothing, I guess.”
Those in the group capable of shifting followed suit, removing their clothes and transforming into their animal counterparts. Those who couldn’t shift, like the vampires, looked no less prepared for battle with their fangs and claws gleaming in the moonlight.
Since someone needed to do the talking, Brock remained in his human skin along with the vampires. Moira stripped down to her bra and panties in preparation of her part of the plan, but remained unchanged at his side.
“This will work,” she whispered, staring straight ahead through the tree branches. A visible shiver went through her, but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she turned her head, looked right into his eyes, and smiled. “I’ve got this.”
* * * *
Their unwelcome guests were already waiting for them on the other side of the stream, proving they were right to think that the foursome were watching them, anticipating their moves.
Koba’s muscles quivered, and his heart thundered inside his furry chest, but he was ready. Though only four men stood on the banks, he could scent many more hiding in the forest. Whining softly, he pawed at the ground, ready to get things rolling.
“Easy,” Brock whispered, scratching gently behind his ear. “Wait until they show themselves.” He’d barely gotten the words through his lips when at least thirty wolves slinked out from behind the tree trunks, moving at a slow gait but watchful and ready. “Now.”
Gathering his energy, concentrating his power and letting it build, Koba sent blast after blast of it across the water, barking loudly with each wave. By the third cycle, he definitely had the wolves’ attention. The four alphas focused on him as well, but they were older and stronger, able to resist his allure.
That’s what they’d been hoping for, though, so he could only be pleased that it was working. Sending out one more burst of power, Koba began trotting down the muddy shore, checking over his shoulder to make sure the opposing wolves were following him.
“Stay!” Brock’s father commanded, but it was too late. Not even the orders of their alpha were going to deter the pack from getting what they wanted.
Koba had them hook, line, and sinker. It was time to reel them in. Keeping up a constant flow of energy, he increased his speed, barking in a taunting manner, goading his enemies into pursuit. Loud splashing had him checking over his shoulder again, just in time to see the swarm of lupines dive into the tributary, paddling frantically to get to him.
Still moving at a leisurely pace, Koba waited for the first of them to reach dry land, making sure they could still see and smell him. Barks, howls, and snarls ripped through the night, bouncing off the trees and echoing through the forest. Apparently playtime was over.
Ducking his head and keeping as low to the ground as possible, Koba turned on the speed, flying over the muddy earth as he led his followers away from the rest of the group. After almost a mile, he cut sharply to the right, darting into the woods in hopes of confusing his pursuers. He didn’t want to lose them, not yet, but he needed time to execute phase two of t
he plan.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized that more than just lycans were following him. He’d barely entered the tree line when a large body slammed into him from the side. Strong arms wrapped around his chest, crushing him until he could barely breathe as they rolled across the forest floor.
The vampire’s sharp fangs penetrated the skin on his shoulder, but that didn’t concern Koba nearly as much as the sound of paws thundering over the dirt, growing loud—coming closer.
* * * *
“Hello, Brock.”
Brock didn’t respond, not that Moira blamed him. She, however, wasn’t quite so stoic. “Hello, Daddy.”
“Moira.” His voice was deep and smooth, almost hypnotizing. Callan hadn’t lied, either. Moira definitely looked like him from his blond curls to his feet that look too small for his body.
For so long she’d dreamed of the day she would meet him, what she would say, how she would act. Staring at him now, she felt absolutely nothing. The man was a total stranger to her, and for the first time in her life, she was okay with that. Hell, she preferred it.
“Nice stunt with the omega,” the other lycan said and clapped his hands together. “You do know they’ll catch him, though. You’ve accomplished nothing.” Placing his thumb and middle finger together and holding the digits to his lips, he whistled loudly before giving them a malicious grin.
Shadow Walkers and vampires of all shapes and sizes appeared behind him, almost as if they’d been created out of thin air. All clumped together the way they were, Moira couldn’t get an exact count, but her palms started to sweat when she estimated there to be at least another fifty—not even counting those who had gone chasing after Koba.
“Give us the girl,” the vampire leader demanded. “No one has to get hurt.”
An enormous white wolf rubbed against her leg, a low, rumbling growl vibrating through her chest. Without taking her eyes away from her father, Moira reached down and rested her hand lightly on the top of Ryah’s hand, telling the woman without words how grateful she was for her presence. They might not be related by blood, but they were still family.
Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 14
