by Jane Godman
For the first time ever, fear slithered down Sebastian’s spine. Could they do this? As Fenrir plowed through the fleeing figures, his teeth snapping, he started to wonder. Could they stop him before he killed one, or more, of these children?
They had no choice; they had to try. The brotherhood charged after Fenrir. Wilder reached him first and got his teeth into Fenrir’s hind leg. The huge Marsh werewolf roared in pain and swung around, trying to shake Wilder off. At the same time, the other brotherhood members piled onto Fenrir, trying to pin him down. His howls of rage filled the air, bouncing off the tall buildings and echoing into the night sky.
The police were arriving, pouring into the area around the rink. Sebastian caught the shocked expressions on their faces as they saw what was happening in the middle of the ice. Luckily, because there were still too many children around, no shots were fired. The police focus seemed to be on getting the people to safety. The wolf fight? That would have to wait.
What would happen when everyone was safe? Sebastian was able to take a good guess. He was fairly sure there were already police marksmen on their way here . . .
The thought had only just formed when Fenrir found a new surge of strength. Throwing off his attackers, he swung around, heading for the remaining students. Before he reached them, he changed course and charged directly at the brotherhood. Rage filled his eyes, and his whole focus was on Sebastian.
Make sure these kids get out of here.
Sebastian planted all four paws firmly on the ice. It wasn’t a problem for him. The Arctic was his homeland. The land of ice and snow was in his blood. No, the problem was the werewolf that was almost twice his size.
We can’t let him do this alone.
It was Cindy’s voice he heard in his head as Fenrir slammed into him. Sebastian hit the ice hard, his body sliding into the center of the rink. Fenrir was on him immediately, one huge paw striking out. Sebastian’s whole body spasmed with shock as Fenrir’s claw pierced his side. Pain exploded like a burst balloon inside his chest and he straight away knew what it was. One of his lungs had collapsed.
Unable to get to his feet, Sebastian scrabbled helplessly around on the ice, his claws trying to get a grip on the slippery surface while red froth bubbled up between his lips.
He looked up to see Fenrir crouched over him. Felt hot, fetid breath on his cheek. Smelled the scent of centuries of evil as the werewolf god leaned closer. Hear the sound that was somewhere between Fenrir’s snarl and Chastel’s cackle.
And closed his eyes as the huge fangs descended toward his throat.
Chapter Thirteen
Cindy was becoming more accustomed to being in wolf form, but some of her human senses still lingered. It was a strange feeling. As though her wolf and her human were still vying for dominance within her. The wolf was in control, but the woman retained an overview of what was going on.
Right now, both the wolf and the woman needed to go to Sebastian. That monster was going to kill him. The other brotherhood members and Valetta had been sidetracked by the need to keep the children safe from Fenrir. In the instant Fenrir had Sebastian pinned down on the ice, Cindy seemed to be the only one aware of what was going on.
She broke into a run. The paws that were new to her slid wildly over the unaccustomed surface and she fought to get control over her wolf body. So many new experiences . . . and now she had to face another one. A fight with a werewolf god. It was just as well she hadn’t been hoping for an easy introduction into werewolf life.
As she darted past a cowering group of teachers a students a horrible, gut-wrenching scent hit her. She’d have said it smelled like death, but there was more to it. A harsh, metallic tang. Almost like old copper . . .
Silver! She remembered Lowell describing the scent to her once. He had been explaining that silver was poisonous to werewolves and, even when they were in human form, the stench was sickening to them. He said it reminded him of sewerage and verdigris. Cindy recalled him telling her about a colleague who wore a silver brooch. Every time she got too close, Lowell had to move away from her. If he didn’t, he was in danger of throwing up.
Excitement coursed through her. Her human was picking up on the scent of silver. Did that mean her werewolf would be able to survive its touch? Am I too new to this to be as badly affected by it as other werewolves?
There was only one way to find out. One of these people was wearing something silver. Cindy had to find a way to take it from them. She paused alongside the group, ignoring their cries of terror. It was a shock to realize that it was her they were scared of. I’m the big, bad wolf.
There! One of the teachers was wearing a silver locket. Carefully, doing her best not to scare the already terrified woman any further, Cindy approached her and pulled on the chain with her teeth. Her best wasn’t good enough. As the chain broke, the woman fainted.
I have a silver locket in my mouth and I’m not dead. I must still have a level of human immunity.
She was surprised at the clarity of her human thoughts as, relieved, she bounded over to where Sebastian lay in the center of the ice. What she saw as she approached horrified her. Blood was pouring from a deep wound in Sebastian’s side and frothing from his lips in time with his breathing. Fenrir was poised over him, his teeth bared as he prepared to tear out Sebastian’s throat.
Without thinking, Cindy threw herself between them. Placing her body over Sebastian’s she turned her head and gazed into the eyes of the deadly werewolf that reared over them. Fenrir’s eyes blazed green-gold marsh fire as he opened a mouth wide enough to take in Cindy’s whole head.
Without flinching, Cindy remained perfectly still as Fenrir lowered his hideous jaws. Even though terror was like a chainsaw cutting into her nerve endings, she forced herself to ignore the instinct that was telling her to flee. Enfeebled as he was, Sebastian tried to push her away, to force her to move, but she ignored him.
She waited until the very last minute, just as Fenrir was about to clamp his giant fangs either side of her head. Then, ignoring the foul stench of his breath and the hateful prospect of what she was about to do, she jerked her muzzle back and spat the silver locket into the back of his throat.
If she’d misjudged this—if Fenrir was unaffected by silver because he was occupying Chastel’s body—then both she and Sebastian were dead. Cindy closed her eyes, almost feeling Fenrir’s teeth crushing her skull.
Nothing happened for long, agonizing seconds. Then the huge werewolf made a choking sound and reeled backward. In that curious half-wolf, half-human manner, he raised his front paws to his throat before falling onto the ice beside Sebastian. With his whole body convulsing, he made a sound like an old-fashioned steam engine. A horrible burning smell flowed from him and smoke began to pour from his mouth.
Cindy became aware of the events around them. The rink was almost clear of students now, which meant it was becoming more dangerous. Once the children were all gone, the police marksmen would move in. The other Arctic werewolves, realizing that Sebastian and Cindy were in danger, were running toward them.
Fenrir continued to thrash around, clutching his throat. “I will go . . .” The words sounded like he had been gargling with broken glass. “And leave you with Chastel.”
Before anyone else could make a move, Sebastian got onto all fours. Despite his injuries, he closed the space between him and Fenrir. Baring his huge, bloodstained fangs, Sebastian ripped out Fenrir’s throat.
Sebastian flopped onto his side, his flanks heaving following the exertion. Cindy hurried to his side, nudging him gently with her muzzle. She turned her head in an appeal to the other brotherhood members, but they were all staring down at the body Sebastian had just cast aside.
Fenrir had gone. In his place, Chastel lay on his back, his glassy eyes gazing up at the night sky.
* * *
They managed to get away from the ice rink by using the chaos of the panicking students as cover. Once they were away from the brightly lit area, they shifted ba
ck under the shelter of a clump of dark trees and hurriedly pulled their clothes back on.
Vigo, who was a paramedic in his human job, checked out Sebastian’s injury.
“I need to get a werewolf doctor to deal with your collapsed lung. That’s a medical emergency.” He helped Sebastian get into his clothes. “We need to get you to the hotel fast.”
Sebastian’s teeth were starting to chatter. “Can’t walk. Go without me.”
It was part of the brotherhood code. They didn’t have many rules, but those they did have were basic werewolf rules for living. First, the pack—or the brotherhood—was everything. It came first, before the individual. Next, they protected the young, and honored their mates. Finally, no member of the brotherhood would place the others at risk. That meant if one them was injured, they would never hold the others back.
“No.” It was Cindy who spoke up defiantly.
“No?” In spite of the pain, he quirked a brow at her.
“If you stay here, I’m staying with you.”
“Doesn’t work like that.” He managed to rasp the words out.
“Does now.” She placed her hands on her hips.
She looked stubborn and scared. All he wanted to do was go to her and wrap his arms around her . . . but it was taking him all his time to breathe let alone move.
“Can I suggest you two continue this back at the hotel? I don’t want to stick around and get taken in for questioning by the police. I suspect they are feeling pretty jumpy right about now.” Vigo hooked an arm under Sebastian’s elbow and signaled for Samson to get the other side.
It was a slow walk, but, thankfully, Wilder had booked them into a hotel that was nearby. It was one they had used before where they were sure of good service without prying eyes. By the time they reached the hotel lobby, Sebastian was barely conscious. The only thing keeping him going was the occasional glimpse he got of Cindy’s face. She looked so worried. He wanted to be able to take that look away. The only way he could do that was to be okay.
Wilder sorted out the rooms with the desk clerk. As soon as they had the keys to Sebastian’s room, Vigo and Samson got him into the elevator.
“I’ve already called a werewolf doctor friend. He’s on his way over.”
While they waited for the doctor to arrive, Vigo and Samson carefully lowered Sebastian onto the bed. They had pulled a sweatshirt over his head in the park and Vigo removed it now. A frown darkened his features as he examined the deep slash mark caused by Fenrir’s talons.
“Until the doctor comes, I can’t do anything except cover this. Protecting your lung is the most important thing.”
Once Vigo had placed a dressing over the puncture wound and sealed it, Sebastian could breathe easier. The pain was still agonizing, but it no longer felt like an army of demons were sitting on his chest and digging their claws into his lungs. He was able to take shallow breaths without fearing that each one would be his last.
“Cindy.” He managed to croak her name.
“I’m here.” She knelt beside the bed, clasping one of his blood-encrusted hands in hers and holding it against her cheek.
“Don’t go away.” That was all he could manage. Intense weariness forced his eyelids closed.
“Never.” There was a tiny catch in her voice as if she was fighting tears, but he heard her strength. Most of all, he heard her love. In that single word, he heard everything he needed to give him the strength to keep fighting.
When Dr. Vane arrived, he got to work straight away, explaining that he needed to insert a needle attached to a syringe into Sebastian’s chest cavity.
“This removes the air and acts like a suction to reinflate the lung.”
“Doesn’t he need surgery?” Cindy sounded nervous as the doctor produced a long needle.
“If this doesn’t work, that will be the next option.” Sebastian jerked as the needle entered his chest, and Vigo moved to his side to hold his shoulders. “But let’s be optimistic.”
As the doctor gradually drew the air out of his chest, Sebastian felt the reverse of the sensation he had experienced back on the ice. Like a balloon filling with air, he could feel his lung starting to work again. Exhaling was no longer the hardest job he had ever done. It started to get easier with each breath, until, by the time the doctor withdrew the needle, he was breathing normally again.
Once his lung was restored to its full capacity, the pain from his injury kicked in. Fenrir’s claw had been like a dagger driving deep into his side. Dr. Vane seemed to sense the cause of Sebastian’s sudden groan.
“You’ll need some pain medication before I treat that wound.”
The next needle was a brief sting in his arm followed soon after by an all over sleepy buzz. He was vaguely aware of the doctor, supported by Vigo, studying the injury to his side. Their faces were serious as they cleaned and sutured the wound. By the time Dr. Vane had covered the injury with a dressing, Sebastian could barely keep his eyes open. He was only vaguely aware of the conversation around him.
“Will there be any permanent damage?” Cindy asked.
“There’s no reason for his lung to collapse again, but it can happen. This may have left him with a weakness. It’s one of those things that’s almost impossible to predict.” Sebastian was aware of the doctor casting a glance in his direction. “That stab injury is going to cause him long-term problems. There is major tissue trauma and muscle damage. His rehabilitation is going to be long and slow.”
From behind closed eyelids, Sebastian was aware of the room becoming quieter as people left. A cool hand touched his cheek then the sheets were pulled up to his chin. Just before sleep finally claimed him, the mattress dipped slightly and he smiled as Cindy’s warm body settled close to him.
* * *
The first time her inner wolf craved raw meat, Cindy had been horrified. Throughout the years, she had watched the brotherhood consume vast amounts of bloody steaks. She had gotten used to this unappealing characteristic her friends shared. When they all sat down to dinner together, she had been able to ignore the lack of table manners. As her companions grabbed handfuls of raw meat and tore into it, Cindy would always daintily prepare and eat her own meals.
Now, two days after the ice rink incident, she decided to stop fighting it. I’m a werewolf. May as well adapt to the lifestyle.
She couldn’t call room service and ask for a raw steak, so she settled for the next best thing.
“Rare steak. No sides.” She paused. “Make that two.”
“Make it four.” Sebastian opened one eye.
Cindy was so surprised, she gave a little squeak of reaction. Recovering long enough to relay the new order to the person on the end of the phone, she replaced the receiver before hurrying to his side.
“You’re awake.”
“Looks that way.” He regarded her with amusement. “What time is it?”
“Forty-eight hours after you went to sleep.”
Her words startled him into an attempt to sit up. The effort caused him to cry out in pain and Cindy rushed to his side.
“Dr. Vane left some painkillers.” She handed him with a glass of water and he swallowed the pills. “Now let me help you sit up.”
“Two days?” Once he was upright and propped against the pillows, Sebastian regarded her with incredulity. “What happened?”
Cindy took a seat next to the bed. Although he looked pale, she was pleased with his appearance. He looked like him, and, as far as she was concerned, that was the best thing in the world.
“How much do you remember?”
Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “I remember getting into a fight with Fenrir, or Chastel, whoever the fuck it was. Hurt like hell.” He reached a hand around to his side and winced as he encountered the dressing. “Still does.”
“Fenrir caught you in the side with one of his claws and your lung collapsed.”
“I guess that explains why my chest hurts.”
Cindy could sense the tension mounting in Sebastian
. She knew his physical hurt would be nothing compared to the enforced inactivity. His inner wolf would hate this feeling of helplessness.
“What happened to Fenrir?” Sebastian asked.
“You killed him. Although”—she thought back to what had happened and tried to explain it more effectively—“Fenrir left Chastel’s body just before you attacked him.”
Sebastian frowned as though he was trying to remember. His frustrated groan was a signal that he wasn’t succeeding. “That doesn’t make sense. The prophecy states Samson is the only person who can kill Chastel.”
Cindy gave a shudder as she recalled the gory image of Chastel lying on the ice with his throat torn out. “He was dead.”
“What happened to his body?” For someone who had been close to death two days ago, Sebastian was becoming very businesslike. This felt like she was being interrogated for one of his newspaper articles.
“Samson has been following the news reports.” She smiled. “I’ve been in here, worrying myself half to death about you.”
His expression softened and he held out a hand toward her. “I’m sorry.” When she took his hand, he held it to his lips. “Sorry for focusing on Chastel when I should be thinking of you, and sorry for scaring you.”
“I forgive you. Speaking of Samson, he’s been going crazy wanting to know how you are. Shall I call him?”
Sebastian grimaced. “Maybe I could get washed before I see anyone? I’ll need to get into the tub. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to stand in the shower.”
Since Dr. Vane wasn’t here to offer his advice, and he hadn’t said anything about not bathing, Cindy ran a bath before helping Sebastian to the bathroom. She was shocked at how weak he was. Just getting him undressed and into the warm water seemed to drain his energy.
It was a sure sign of just how exhausted he was when he lay back and allowed Cindy to wash his hair and body. The dressing Dr. Vane had placed over his wound was waterproof and it remained in place. Although his jaw and chin were stubbled with several days of beard growth, Cindy decided shaving could wait. When she had finished, she toweled him dry, helped him into clean boxer briefs and a T-shirt and led him back to the bed.
