by Cecy Robson
Thanks, Taran.
A black-and-tan wolf leaped on me. An avalanche of blasted bedrock wouldn’t have rammed me as hard as he did. He aimed his bear-trap fangs at my jugular. My claws dug into his shoulders, keeping him from making confetti out of my throat.
In the wild, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. A tigress could shred through the hide of a wolf like packing foam. But this wasn’t the wild, and he was no mere wolf. Four hundred–plus pounds of abominable lupine threw me around like a dead squirrel. My claws and teeth appeared to have little effect. Unlike the students in the alley, this guy had seen his share of combat.
“Get ’em, Celia. Show these bitches what you’re made of!”
Taran didn’t get it. The most I could do was continue to dig my claws and fangs and use the wolf as a shield against his pack. He wasn’t, however, a willing participant. His claws scratched and pressed into my chest with the bulk of his weight while the others continued to pound against him to get at me. Their frustrated growls and impatient hunger for battle terrified me, and my stomach lurched from the wolf’s blood dripping down my throat. I needed to get him off me, but the floor wasn’t thick enough to shift across. If I tried to shift down, I’d land in Misha’s basement and damage my already battered ribs, allowing the wolf to easily finish me.
“What are you doing, Celia?” Taran screamed. “Beat them shitless and let’s get the hell out of here!”
Taran missed her calling as a motivational speaker.
I tried to use the wolf’s momentum to roll us into his buddies, but my bones ached brutally and my muscles begged to stop moving. We banged into a butcher block stacked with kitchenware. Plates, glasses, and a few pans kerplunked, banged, and shattered onto the floor as we shoved our way through it.
Taran must have finally reabsorbed enough magic and realized my struggle to the friggin’ death. She detonated a clamoring jolt, sending the wolf airborne and into an industrial-size stove.
That would have been great had a brown wolf not ransacked me. I think my skull made a serious dent in the stainless-steel refrigerator—or at least it should have, considering the canaries circling my head insisting I not move and just die. My broken rib now had a friend. Or two. I couldn’t tell, since my lungs had stopped working from the increasing strain of my attacker’s weight. I briefly heard the beautiful howl of a wolf before the abundant mass lifted off my chest.
I didn’t so much leap to my feet as creep. Even my eyelashes hurt. They fluttered, trying to help me focus. When the haze and pessimistic canaries vanished, I took in the remains of the ransacked kitchen. All the wolves had disappeared but two. An oil black wolf with a white spot on his front paw sniffed at my head. The other waited near my trash-mouthed sister. Taran was clearly all out of supernatural juice. Exhausted and terrified, she could barely hold on to the cabinet door.
Taran’s wolf was the identical twin of mine, except the white spot was on his opposite paw. He watched her, but failed to move, whereas my wolf nudged me with his head, trying to encourage me to stand. It almost seemed strange for him not to try to eat me, but his touch remained gentle and reassuring.
Because my luck generally sucked big, hairy moose, Taran misinterpreted his actions as another attempt on my life. “Get the hell away from her!”
It appeared Taran had some juice left after all. She propelled her last bit of lightning at my wolf, hollering with the anger of a thousand Latinas.
The wolf easily leaped out of her path.
I didn’t.
The force from the bolt knocked me back into the fridge. Sparks flew as the huge appliance short-circuited. Some might argue that it took the brunt of the shock. My scrambled insides argued not.
“Oh, shit,” Taran muttered.
My wolf sped to the one at her side. I flopped onto my belly in time to see the pair curl their necks together as if embracing.
Before joining to form one enormous wolf.
The transformation happened so fast, I almost missed it. Two halves merged in unison, the perfect blend of yin and yang except beautiful, frightening, and mesmerizing all at once, like the death of two and the rebirth of one almighty.
Taran gawked as the wolf placed his paws, now both white, on the countertop. The scent of were magic tickled my whiskers as the wolf vanished and changed into Gemini.
Oh, hell. Never had another lived up to a nickname like this.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured to Taran. “I promise to protect you.” He left Taran briefly to lift an overturned kitchen chair and place it next to the counter. With the elegance of a king, he took Taran’s hand and led her down his makeshift staircase. “Are you hurt?”
Taran didn’t answer. She went back to performing act two of Romeo and Juliet while I lay on my side sizzling and hoping my ribs weren’t protruding through my fur. I don’t even think she suffered a broken nail. Seriously?
I pushed up on my front paws, but my back claws told me to screw off and declared that any movement was an insanely stupid idea. My back legs knew what they were talking about. I collapsed, yet again, onto my ribs.
My grunts snapped Taran out of her Red Riding Hood fantasy. She rushed to my side, screaming for Emme. “Son of a bitch, Celia. What the hell happened to you? Your ribs are sticking through your goddamn skin.”
I didn’t want to be right about my ribs. The thought made my head spin. Or was it the multitude of blows to my head?
I tried to ignore my pain—and the rapid return of the damn canaries—and focused on Gemini’s face. It had been years since I’d seen a man naked and, bless Danny’s heart, nothing compared to these heart-stopping beasts.
Emme and Shayna gasped when they clambered in and caught sight of me…and Gemini in all his butt-nekked glory.
Taran blocked their view. “Don’t just stand there,” she snapped. “Heal your sister!”
Emme covered her eyes to avoid ogling Gemini, thereby landing on my tail when she slipped over what I hoped was someone else’s blood. This was so not my night. But the bash to my tail paled in comparison to what it took for Emme to heal my injuries. Every part of me snapped, crackled, and popped back into place. The pain throbbed so unbearably, I lost focus and changed back.
Shayna left quickly and returned with a soft throw blanket. I wasn’t were. I didn’t want to be naked and vulnerable around anyone. I gripped the throw against my body as my ribs began their torturous return home, burying all the whimpers and tears hammering against my soul to escape.
I’d only just sat up with Emme and Taran’s help when three wolves shot into the kitchen roaring in challenge. Gemini didn’t bother to turn around. He didn’t have to. One twin wolf tore out of his back like Velcro and faced the wolves.
The human half of Gemini gripped Shayna’s wrists as she yanked out two daggers from her ankle holsters. His dark almond eyes seethed with anger as he addressed the other wolves. “Your orders are to leave these girls alone and escort Aric out.”
Oh, God. Aric.
I ran out of the house to where the fight between Aric and Misha continued by the lake. The wolves from the kitchen sprinted past me and joined the other weres attempting to haul Aric away. I covered my mouth, horrified. Aric’s T-shirt had been ripped off, chunks from both his shoulders were missing, and blood soaked his face, hair, and jeans.
The female vampires doted on their master, sealing his cuts with flicks of their eager tongues. Misha ignored them, remaining eerily still as he watched Aric with deep, unapologetic loathing.
Shock kept me from joining my sisters vomiting behind me. Misha stood in only his half-shredded pants. Blood colored his long blond hair red and darkened his once golden skin to brown. His left hand had been severed at the wrist, and his midsection bore one immense hole. Bile from his massacred liver dribbled down his right side like a sponge being rhythmically squeezed. Aric and Misha hadn’t fought. They’d mutilated each other.
Good Lord.
Aric’s animalistic growls snapped me out of my ho
rror. “You goddamn leech. This isn’t over—you hear me? This isn’t over!”
The urge to calm and care for Aric overtook me. I clutched the blanket against my breasts and darted toward him. His head jerked in my direction when he caught my scent. I was mere feet from him when a wolf in human form backhanded me hard enough to force me back several yards.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Aric roared.
Misha charged my attacker with a spine-tingling hiss. He was too late. Aric’s blow catapulted the wolf into a wide support beam. The beam splintered in half, sloping Misha’s grand terrace with a loud boom.
My claws protruded; I expected the wolf to retaliate. But the attack never came. His limp form slid down the beam, painting a thick red streak until he face-planted onto the patio like a wet fish. Splat.
I gasped. Aric’s wrath appeared beyond reason. So did his need to protect me. He tore away from his pack and rushed to my side, his pace slowing as he neared. Soothing streams of warmth cascaded across my skin as he cupped my face and took in my injuries. “Jesus,” he whispered.
My hands found his wrists. “It’s okay, Aric. I’m all right.” Despite the danger, his presence immediately soothed my beast. He felt so right.
Aric’s blazing eyes locked onto mine as a swarm of weres surrounded him and yanked him from my grasp. A dull ache pounded my chest like stone meeting stone. I didn’t want him to leave me. We stared at each other in silence until his pack wrestled him from my sight and toward the front of the house. Car doors slammed and engines roared to life. The pack was leaving, and taking Aric with them.
Taran gasped next to me. “Holy Mother. Who the hell was that?”
I wiped my bloody lip with the edge of the blanket. “My boyfriend,” I answered quietly.
CHAPTER 11
“Misha. What the hell are you doing?”
Misha tore off his pants in a way that would shame Magic Mike. He tossed them aside, and—good Lord—the rest of his Adonis form was enough to distract me from his gruesome injuries.
He grinned at my crimson face. “I am going for a swim. Care to join me?”
I gaped at his outstretched hand, but it was still better than the alternative. Master vampires, it seemed, weren’t fans of underwear.
When I failed to do more than snap my jaw shut, Misha strolled his smooth derriere to the end of the wooden dock and jumped. My skin reeked with about four different types of body fluid. Mud caked my feet and toenails. And God only knew what Shayna was trying to peel off my back. Still, skinny-dipping with a vampire should have counted as one of the seven deadly sins.
Shayna gagged. “It’s a piece of flesh.”
I reached around my shoulder, trying to stay covered. “It can’t be.”
Emme’s green color matched her dress. She’d discovered the thing on my skin when she healed me. “A-a-are you sure?”
“I think I’d remember skinning someone.” I found the edge of something leathery, slimy, and warm. I froze, suddenly not so sure.
Taran groaned, relieved. “It’s a slice of ham.” She pulled it off and waved it in my face. “You must have rolled on it while fighting the wolf in the kitchen.”
The mere mention of the weres made me sick. Aric, Gemini, Koda, and Liam remained the few who didn’t try to harm us. I couldn’t comprehend what we’d done to infuriate those who supposedly protected the earth. But I did recognize the need to avoid all of them…except for Aric.
Shayna shook her head, verbalizing my thoughts. “Why did they come after us, anyway? And why did Misha jump Aric? Isn’t there a treaty between their kind?”
One of the naughty Catholic schoolgirls glided to our side, a rare feat in the stilt-high boots she wore over her fishnets. “The mongrel challenged the master in his home, thereby temporarily violating the treaty. Our master was within his rights to defend his property.” She circled us slowly. “The others recognized you as our allies; thus you became their target as well.”
I fixed the blanket around me to keep me covered. “Aric didn’t challenge Misha.”
“Yes, he did.” The vamp peered over her shoulder at me as she sashayed away. “He tried to take what belongs to the master.”
She assumed I was Misha’s property. She assumed wrong. My cool skin heated with resentment…until I realized most of the bimbos Misha encountered would likely sacrifice their pricey bosoms for the chance of becoming his. He had wealth, power, ethereal beauty.
But he sure as hell didn’t have me.
I brushed the bitchy vamp’s comments aside. There were more pressing matters. Bloodlust continued to run rampant, and Misha’s death would likely spiral the plague out of control. And perhaps it was naive, but like Petro, I believed in his innocence. I also believed whoever caused the infestation would rise to inconceivable power in Misha’s absence.
I peered out to where Misha had dove into the peaceful water. The extent of his injuries worried me. Masters healed fast, but only because they drew power and strength from their keep. The more vampires a master controlled, the more formidable he was. Except Misha was down to a mere handful.
I walked to the end of the dock, praying I wouldn’t see chunks of Misha’s liver floating above the waves. Fortunately, my eyes failed to spot any dismembered body parts. Unfortunately, they also failed to spot Misha.
“Dude, where did Count Hotness go?”
I knelt over the edge. “I don’t know—”
Emme screamed from the other side of the pier. “Oh, my God. He’s dead!”
We rushed over. Misha floated as if standing beneath the clear water, the bright dock lighting bleaching his skin white. His long blond hair fanned above him, swaying in time with the waves. My breath caught at his outstretched arms reaching as if pleading for salvation.
Emme crossed herself, her voice trembling. “May he rest in peace.”
Taran swallowed hard. “Shit, Ceel. That settles that.”
“He’s not dead,” I stammered.
Shayna placed her hand on my shoulder. “Celia, I know you wanted to help him—”
I shook my head. “No. What I mean is he can’t be dead. There’s no ash or anything.” Despite what I said, my stomach lurched into my throat.
Taran gripped my arm. “Girl, I don’t know. He sure as hell looks dead to me.”
I ignored Taran and Misha. God, it creeped me out just looking at him. “Emme,” I urged, “pull him out with your force.”
Emme once told me she could feel everything she moved with her mind, as if it brushed against her hands. The way she swooned at my request told me she had no desire to touch a potentially redeceased body with gaping organs. Still, she gave it the old college try.
I wiped my sweaty palms against my blanket and reviewed the steps for mouth-to-mouth in my head. Sweet Jesus, please let him be okay.
Emme gathered her courage, ambled to the end, took a deep breath, and…nothing. For thirty long seconds, nothing happened. Misha’s head didn’t so much as bob out of the water.
“Damn it, Emme,” Taran urged. “Hurry up before we have a damn vegetable with fangs on our hands!”
Emme whimpered, her face turning purple from the strain. “I’m trying, but something heavy is pulling him down.”
A strange feeling of dread numbed me down to my toes. “Get help,” I said to Shayna.
She sprinted, screaming for Misha’s vampires while my eyes searched the dock for something to haul Misha out. Diving in remained out of the question. My sisters couldn’t swim, and I could manage a pathetic doggy paddle at best.
My rising anxiety threatened to unleash my tigress when I spotted one of those pole thingies used to maneuver boats into the dock. I used the metal hook at the end and tangled it around Misha’s hair with as much finesse as a frat boy on ice skates after a wild Saturday night. “Go, Emme. Go!”
With a collective grunt, Emme and I yanked with everything we had…only to land on our butts, sweating, panting, and Misha-less.
My eyes crossed as I s
tared at the huge knot of Misha’s hair at the end of my stick.
Shit.
I scrambled to the edge, completely out of ideas. A single bubble formed from Misha’s mouth. And that’s when I panicked. I flipped the pole and poked him hard in the head, between his shoulder blades, on his stomach, anywhere I could reach, desperate to move him.
“Why are you poking the master?” one of Misha’s bodyguards asked. The lot of them scowled like I’d rammed the damn stick up his nose.
I pointed wildly into the water. “He’s stuck. We need to get him out!”
Misha’s other guard, Tim, narrowed his eyes like he wanted nothing more than to bowl with my decapitated head. “Haven’t any of you learned to harness the power of the lake?” Our blank expressions answered for us. He rolled his eyes. “Just leave the master to his business and try not to get in the way.” He left and followed the others back to the house, not bothering to glance back.
I wanted to pounce on him and slap him upside the head—for not helping Misha and for being a monstrous prick. But then the water around Misha stirred and another bubble appeared, this time by his foot. A third bubble formed, followed by another, and another. To my horrendous shock, the water beneath Misha’s feet rapidly simmered until a full boil concealed his entire body.
What the hell?
“Son of a bitch!” Taran screamed. “We’re outta here.”
Soft thuds fell upon the grass as my sisters hauled ass across the lawn. Their Scooby-Doo-ish steps dwindled to a halt when Shayna hollered, “Celia’s not coming!”
My sisters bounded back in a frenzy and tried to lug me away. But I refused to move, hypnotized by the rippling magic cocooning Misha. The severity of the moment should have made me heed my sisters’ shouts of warning, and yet even my tigress remained glued there with curiosity. Tahoe wouldn’t just cook Misha like a lobster. Some deeply hidden secret was being unlocked within the lake. And this master vampire possessed the key.
I basked in the surging glory of the lake’s magic, ignoring Emme’s plea to run. My sisters’ tugging became more urgent, but what happened next halted their frantic efforts. A beautiful golden glow spawned in the center of the whirlpool of bubbles, igniting fireworks inside the lake. Thousands of light blue sparkles shimmered across the surface before erupting in a spray of light against our skin. I jumped, expecting to be scorched. Except the bizarre magic didn’t harm. Instead it fell upon me like warm water from a soothing shower, refreshing my skin and hair and eliminating my fatigue.
