“Leave it.” Myles snatched Jenny up and threw her onto his shoulders, pulling Breena along by the arm.
They’d nearly reached the front door when it exploded inward, crashing into the apartment.
The black wolf, Jay, faced them. Myles released Breena, set Jenny on the ground and launched himself at the wolf with his vampire-quick reflexes. But the wolf–agile for his massive size–flipped Myles over and pinned him to the floor, ripping a chunk of flesh from his neck.
Breena grabbed Jenny by the hand and ran down the hall to the master bedroom. In the bathroom, she took a moment to gather Jenny close, though she knew she probably couldn’t spare it.
She brushed Jenny’s hair back and cupped her face, looked into her eyes. “Stay put, short stuff, okay?”
Jenny clutched at her sister’s hand. “Bea–”
“It’ll be okay.” Heart breaking, she pulled her hand from Jenny’s. “Stay here, baby girl.”
She made herself turn away, lock the door.
That was as far as her well-thought-out plan went.
Not stopping to think, she ran back into the hallway.
The sound of hissing and growling–along with fabric ripping and furniture breaking–came from the living room. Holy hell! There went the coffee table…and the lamp. Damn, it had just been cleaned up from Orin and Dandi’s fight.
Get a grip, Breena. You freaking out is not helping Myles.
As Breena approached the living room, she saw there were two wolves now. A reddish-brown wolf had Myles cornered by the entertainment center, while the big black wolf stalked around them.
Then the black wolf spotted Breena. Turning, he leaped for her.
She made a mad dash for the kitchen.
Smooth move.
There was nowhere for her to go. With only one exit from the kitchen, Jay had her trapped.
“Did you think we’d let you get away with killing Felix? Halfling bitch,” the wolf growled.
“It was self-defense.” Behind her, a wave of heat wafted from the stovetop. Thank God it was still warm.
Glancing over her shoulder, she glimpsed Myles through the pass-thru. The brownish-red wolf sprang forward, but the vampire caught him mid-air and snapped his neck. The crack of spine sounded so loudly it caused Jay to hesitate.
Breena grabbed the frying pan handle. As Jay turned to face her, she flung the hot bacon grease at him. With an ear-splitting howl of pain, he lumbered backward for a moment before rallying and charging forward.
Myles caught him by the tail, yanked him away from her and flattened him against the kitchen floor. The vampire reared back, fangs gleaming and eyes stoplight-red. In a flash, Myles had ripped the wolf’s throat out and spat it on the tile.
Realizing she was still holding the frying pan, she let it hit the floor with a loud clang.
She gawked down at Myles. There were splattered drops of blood in his jet-black curls. His eyes had dulled to their normal steel-blue and his fangs had retracted slightly, but his neck still looked awful. A huge chunk was gone. Just…gone. It’d stopped bleeding and nothing hung out any more, but it would take longer to heal than they had time.
She’d dealt with this particular pack of werewolves enough to know their fearless leader couldn’t be far behind them, though apparently she didn’t like getting her paws dirty. Excuse the hell out of Breena.
She was trying to figure out who she could call for help, when Myles collapsed to the floor.
Shit.
She grabbed a towel from the countertop and ran over to him. He lay utterly still, sprawled on the floor and covered in blood. Surely, that wasn’t all his? Gagging, she wiped off his mouth and still had no idea what to do about his neck.
“Myles, we’ve got to move.” She tried to lift him, but she wasn’t exactly built for manual labor–being small-framed, though fairly tall–and he slumped onto the ground.
“Fridge.” His voice sounded strained. “Blood.”
She stepped over the bloody, greasy mess. Thick liquid seeped out of the black wolf. Thankfully, more ooze seemed to be on the floor than on her. Reaching the fridge, she opened it to find no more blood. Dandi had drunk the last bags without restocking.
“Shit,” she muttered. “Shit. Shit.”
They had to get out of this apartment. She wasn’t about to wait around to be killed. She had a sister to protect.
Hoisting Myles to a seated position, she propped him as best she could against the cabinet doors.
“There’s no fridge-blood.”
Breena remembered Dandi had drunk the dead werewolf’s blood. She looked at the massive black wolf. His fur was matted with blood and grease. Oh God, she did not like the thought of touching it, but she had to get Myles some blood. “I’m gonna try to drag the wolf to you. Okay?”
“Don’t…bother. Allergic.”
Triple shit. Allergic?
But during the wolf attack at Norma’s…he’d drunk someone’s blood. “Who–” She shut her mouth with a snap. She didn’t want to know.
Forget it.
Well, hell, she was down to one option. “You gotta drink mine.” At least her words sounded confident.
“No,” he moaned. “I won’t.”
“I’m telling you to do it. Now do it.” Her panic grew. They needed to get out of there. “I know you want to. Here.” Placing his fingertips against her throat, she pulsed against him for not even two beats before his fangs shot out all the way.
She offered him her arm.
When his eyes flashed red, she moved her wrist to his mouth. She’d been passed out the one other time he’d drunk her blood, so she didn’t really know what to expect.
Her pulse raced when his teeth sank into her flesh. She gasped, but not from fear. His lips moved against her wrist in the same soft, urgent way they’d moved against her mouth.
As she watched, his neck began to re-grow the missing chunk. She knew he was in pain, but he made no sign of suffering.
Once his strength returned, he pulled her onto his lap and cradled her to him while he drank, his mouth latched to her wrist. Soon his neck looked completely normal again. His eyes met hers, their red fire cooled to his steel-blue.
He licked the puncture wound on her wrist, sealing it, before flashing his trademark grin. “Thank you, Bree.”
“You’re welcome.” She couldn’t help smiling back, despite the carcasses all over the apartment.
In one of those vampire-quick moves, he kissed her. His mouth was against hers, and then it wasn’t. The taste of her own blood clung to her lips. “Hey.”
“What? You wanted me to.” He tweaked her nose.
She had wanted him to and she couldn’t blame it on the blood-bond. She smacked his shoulder. “Let’s get Jenny and get the hell outta here.”
Chapter 27
Daylight had already begun to fade by the time they got back to Breena’s apartment. The sky glowed deep pink and orange. Breena inhaled through her nose and opened the front door. All the things Orin had bought were still there.
Okay, fine. It’s not like he’s had time to take it back.
Besides, she had more important issues to deal with than a return policy on household items from Stalkers R Us.
Breena had called Angela Mackie before they’d boarded the plane, but the social worker hadn’t answered. She’d left her a message to call to set up a time and place to meet–the woman never called back. Ms. Mackie had been obsessive-crazy before, and now, radio-silence.
Whatever. At least they’d made it back to Rhodhiss. She’d never been so happy to see the little town, even though they didn’t plan on staying. Once they’d completed their task, they’d be fugitives. Just another day in the life of Breena Cross.
“Holy crud muffin, Ash. You’ve got good taste,” Dandi gushed as they walked through the front door.
“Thanks. I can’t take the credit though. Orin decorated.”
“Eeuw!” She tossed the decorative pillow she’d picked up to the floor.<
br />
Breena swallowed a laugh, not bothering to tell Dandi that the preternatural would be clearing the stuff out soon. Too funny.
Dandi threw her hands up in the air. “Myles, we can’t stay here. Don’t you have a place nearby?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s go there.” Dandi moved to the door.
“No. We stay where Bree is comfortable.” He settled down on the couch.
“But–” she whined.
“Enough, Dandelion.”
“Humph!” She huffed away. “There’s no blood in the fridge,” she announced from the kitchen.
“I’ll go get some.” Myles headed for the door.
Dandi zipped back into the living room. “I’ll come with.”
Myles sighed and moved to Breena’s side. He leaned down to whisper, “Bree, are you okay to stay here with Jenny? Alone?”
Since she hadn’t heard the hum in a while and she was close to her dam, she felt more like herself. “I think so. Yeah.”
“We’ll be back soon.” He squeezed her hand.
With that, they sped off into the night in search of blood. Michael Jackson’s Thriller came to mind. Breena wondered if they’d terrorize the neighborhood.
“I’m sleepy, sis.” Jenny yawned as she lay sprawled on the couch.
“Go put your jams on, and I’ll tuck you in.”
When Breena walked into the room, Jenny was already snuggled under her plush covers.
“Night night.”
“Sleep tight,” Breena echoed.
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
With the covers up to her neck, Jenny looked like a rolled up burrito. She’d fallen asleep by the time Breena had switched off the lamp and clicked the door shut.
She headed to her room but knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep yet. Even though today had exhausted her, her mind whirled in a thousand different directions. She decided to start packing.
“Going somewhere?” Orin asked.
At the sound of his voice, her heart sank to her feet.
She spun around to find him facing her. She hadn’t thought to tell him she and Jenny were running away with Myles. It hadn’t even entered her mind. Suddenly and completely, she knew who her heart belonged to.
But the part of her that made her who she was, good and bad… Well, her soul was a totally different matter.
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He drew her into his arms. They were strong and comforting, but they weren’t Myles’s.
“Are you okay?” Orin loosened his embrace.
“Yeah, uh, why?”
“I went back to the apartment at The Gathering. There was blood everywhere. Dead weres. I was so worried.” He squeezed her to him again and rested his chin on her shoulder.
“I’m okay, really.” She tried to smile.
He took Breena’s hand in his, leading her to the edge of the bed. “I have news.”
“You saw the queen?”
“Yes.”
Breena let out a sigh of relief. The queen hadn’t killed Orin for not completing his assignment. Thank God. “What’d she say?”
“The president was right. The queen isn’t out to kill you. She wants to meet you.”
Was this right? Her mother didn’t want to kill her? God, she might have a parent out there who actually wanted her. Only one, it seemed, but still. A sense of hope began to blossom as she let the information brew for a minute. “My father wants me dead.”
“The warlock?” Orin released her hand and looked at her with a question on his face.
“Yeah.”
“But why?”
“I wish I knew.” Breena tucked both legs beneath her. “I guess that means Zadalia works for Victor.”
“You were right about the kill order. The queen never gave one.” He leaned forward as he traced the cross pattern into his open palm. “Since Zadalia can no longer be trusted, the queen asked me to take her place.”
“Orin, that’s big. You’re her second in command now. Congratulations.” Breena was thrilled for him. Maybe this would help lessen the blow of the bad news she needed to deliver. But how did you tell someone, Yeah, you’re my soul mate, but my heart belongs to another?
Damn, this would be hard. Especially sitting this close…right now, feeling the dazzling effect he had over her. It wasn’t like she’d ever imagined breaking up with someone. How did that conversation even start…so listen, it’s not you, it’s me? Hell, no. That was a line from Myles’s playbook, and she hated it. And losing Orin altogether just wasn’t an option. She wanted him in her life. Needed to know he’d be there. But some things couldn’t be looked past…no matter how hard she tried. Even though she knew Orin’s job as an assassin was to kill people, she hadn’t been able to get what he’d done to Myles’s family out of her mind. How was he able to kill an innocent child? No matter the assignment.
“I hear congrats, but I don’t feel it.” He peered deeply into her eyes, his ghost-green gaze filled with concern. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing,” she lied, needing more time. She wasn’t ready to hear the answer to what she had to ask him.
“Tell me. Please,” he added.
“Why would you do such an awful thing to him?”
“Do what, Breena? To whom?”
“Myles. You killed his wife. His little girl. How could you?” She stood now. A wave of heat flooded her cheeks.
“What?” Orin looked up at her, straight in the eyes. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“Djinn, how I hate him.”
“What? Are you serious? You’ve got no right to hate him.” A bead of sweat formed on her furrowed brow.
“Breena, listen to me.” Orin stood and took a step toward her. “I didn’t kill his family.”
“But Myles saw–”
“Yes, he saw me there. I admit it looked suspicious. But I swear to you, I did not kill them.” The preternatural reached out and took Breena’s hands in his.
“So, why go there?”
“The queen ordered me to. She wanted me to protect them. But I was too late.”
“Why? Protect them from who?” Breena let her fingers relax beneath his.
“The president.”
Before Breena could find out more, a noise sounded in the hallway.
Oh God. Jenny.
Her heart sank to her stomach as her knees went weak.
Please, God, let it be nothing.
“Did you hear something?” It had sounded like a whimper. She’d become painfully attuned to them when she lived at Norma’s.
“Hear wha–”
“Jenny.”
She dashed across the room and into the hallway. As she burst through Jenny’s bedroom door, she spotted her.
The preternatural from the airport.
She had Jenny.
“Doesn’t pay to have weaknesses, kid.” Her dark roots peeked through her bleached blond hair and her solid black eyes gave her a wild, out of control look.
“Don’t you hurt her.” Breena clenched her hands at her sides.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Breena inched forward. “Let her go.”
The tall preternatural kept a firm grip on Jenny and a hand tight over her mouth. “He’ll be waiting.”
“Waiting where?” But Breena didn’t get an answer because, mid-question, Blondie apparated away, taking Jenny with her.
“Jenny!” Breena screamed. She dashed forward. Too late.
This wasn’t happening. Jenny couldn’t be gone.
She can’t be gone. She can’t be.
Breena couldn’t breathe. Her palms burned. Her body ached.
She can’t be gone.
It felt like her heart and soul had been ripped out. The whole point of coming back here was to keep Jenny safe, and she’d failed. Again. How had she let this happen?
Then Orin stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder, though she couldn’t feel it. She’d gone numb.
Looking down, she noticed the Mackie-High Funeral Home business card.
Breena tensed. She frantically tried to visualize the street, the porch, the foyer of the funeral home.
Orin shook her, hard. Her eyes flew open.
“Breena, no. You can’t apparate there. You won’t be strong enough to face the warlock. Come on.” He pulled her down the hall, grabbed the keys and hoofed it out to her Beetle.
Orin poofed into the driver’s seat. The engine was revving by the time Breena slid into the passenger side. He tore out of the small dirt lot.
Breena tried to gather herself by asking questions. “How did that bitch take Jenny?”
“Preternaturals can apparate with anyone.”
“But you said…before, you said–”
“As a safety measure, the rules are slightly different when you apparate with another preternatural.”
She remembered her descent down the dam with Orin. It seemed like a hundred years ago. All these damned abilities and nothing, nothing ever seemed to be useful when she needed it. A hysterical laugh caught in her throat.
Please, please. Let her be okay.
They sped over the railroad tracks right before Orin slammed on the brakes and made a sharp left turn into the funeral home driveway. Breena flung open her door, raced to the side entrance of the wrap-around porch with Orin only a millisecond behind her. They both reached the front door at the same time but he hesitated at the sight of the rusted copper door handle.
She brushed him aside. “I got it.”
Breena burst through the door, ready to fight. Only to come face to face with something she hoped never to see again.
Chapter 28
Breena had seen dead bodies before. Hell, she’d killed before–in self-defense, mind you–but she’d never seen a body look like this. The moonlight flooding in through the doorway illuminated the corpse in the darkness.
Angela Mackie lay in the foyer of the funeral home, lifeless and limp and scattered into filleted hunks. The only way Breena even knew it was the social worker was by her head, which sat atop a table in the entry way. The woman’s jet black hair was now pure white, along with her once-green eyes. She looked like a shredded sheet of paper.
The social worker had been drained dry of soul, and if the bite marks on the body were anything to go by, a werewolf had done its share of the murder. It seemed like a bit of a supernatural-free-for-all, though judging by the pools of blood on the floor, no vampires had been involved. Breena gagged. She prayed Jenny hadn’t seen this.
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