Edge of Desire

by Rhyannon Byrd

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “You must have mentioned them to me when you called.”

  From the corner of his eye, Kellan caught Hope’s quick shake of her head, assuring him that he hadn’t mentioned Ian when he’d called Pasha on their way into town. She’d been in the truck with him and would have heard every word of the brief conversation.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he grunted, going along with her story to buy himself time, while struggling to wrap his mind around what was happening. He didn’t understand how Pasha was involved, but he knew he’d screwed up. Again. And this time, his friends were going to be the ones who paid.

  He took a sluggish step forward, his body uncoordinated and heavy, positive now that Pasha had injected something into his bloodstream. The burning spot on his neck was swelling, pulsing with fiery heat, and he sent a narrow look toward her hands. When he spotted the heavy silver ring on her right index finger, he knew that she’d somehow used the ring to drug him.

  Lifting his blurry gaze to her face, Kellan tried to focus as she suddenly gave him a slow, knowing smile. “Oops,” she whispered, a soft, husky chuckle slipping from her lips. “Looks like my little game is over now, shifter boy. But don’t worry about the drug. It won’t kill you. It’s just going to put you down for a while.”

  He tried to shout at Hope, telling her to run, but his throat wouldn’t work. Pasha quickly reached behind her back and pulled a gun from the waistband of her tight jeans, pointing the barrel straight at Hope, who had already jerked to her feet. “Stay right there, beautiful, and keep those hands up where I can see them,” Pasha purred, motioning for Hope to sit back down. Then she looked back at Kellan. “Thanks to the little deal I made with Westmore this afternoon, I’m back in his good graces. Even scored myself this nifty little ring from that gorgeous red-haired assassin he’s working with now. Clever, isn’t it? You’ve heard of Spark, no? I have a feeling the two of you are going to become pretty well acquainted once Westmore comes to collect you. I hear she has quite a thing for redheads.”

  “Bitch,” he slurred, wishing he could get his mind to work long enough that he could figure out just what was happening.

  She pushed out her lower lip in a dramatic pout, making a tsking sound under her breath. “Now, don’t be that way. I could have just gutted you, and been done with it. But you’ve had your uses. I’d been planning on taking you, once Buchanan had found the Marker and was fully awakened, then using you to draw out that brother and sister of his for Gregory. But then things changed. Still, you’ve proven useful, after all. Seems ol’ Westmore was pretty eager to get his hands on one of the Ravenswing Watchmen. They’re looking forward to finding out just what your pals will be willing to trade for you. And in return for handing you over, they’re going to make sure that Gregory doesn’t get his claws into my Merrick.”

  He finally got it then. Pasha was a Casus. One of the monsters. And the one who’d caused Riley to awaken. Disgusted with himself for being such a colossal screwup, Kellan fell to his knees, using all his strength to force out a thick “Fuck you.”

  “Been there, done that,” she drawled, blowing him a kiss. “And though it shocks me to say it, you were pretty incredible. Not my usual taste, but enough to make me come back for more.”

  Slumping to the side, Kellan hit the floor, sprawling sideways across the orange and yellow carpet. Pasha stepped forward, the gun still aimed straight at Hope’s chest while she used the pointed toe of her boot to push him to his back. Her beautiful face swam into focus, her bright green eyes staring down at him with a chilling, terrifying look of triumph, and as she smiled, he glimpsed the glittering point of a fang just beneath the curve of her upper lip.

  Kellan blinked, the acidic burn of guilt stripping his insides raw at the thought of what Hope would suffer for his stupidity.

  And then everything went black.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AS RILEY RAN THROUGH the lashing rain, his heart pounding with fear for Hope’s safety, the forest around him filled with the stark, chilling sound of Casus howls. But he didn’t care. He’d let the bastards rip him to shreds, so long as he could get to Hope in time to save her. He’d almost reached the edge of the trees, when a hard, powerful body tackled him from behind, taking him to the ground. His brother’s voice roared with rage as they rolled across the muddy floor of the forest, crashing into the gnarled roots of a massive oak tree.

  “Goddamn it,” he growled, trying to break free from Ian’s brutal grip. “Let me go! I have to get to her!”

  “Not like this,” Ian argued, twisting with a grappling move that pegged Riley beneath the heavy weight of his body, his forearms trapped against the ground. “I’m not letting you run off to get yourself killed! Didn’t you hear what’s coming? We’re going to be surrounded any second now!”

  “Hope is with one of them!” he snarled, the sound of his voice too guttural to be human, his Merrick clawing its way to the surface, seething with fury, preparing to break free.

  “Which is why you need to calm down,” Ian growled. “You’ll never save her if you get killed before you even get there. We have to face these things together, and then we’ll track down that green-eyed bitch and rescue Hope.”

  He wanted to keep fighting, damn it, but as Ian’s words sank in, Riley knew his brother was right. “Okay,” he panted. “I get it. But promise me that if something happens to me, you’ll do everything you can to find her, Ian. Promise me!”

  “You have my word,” Ian told him. “No matter what happens, I’ll get her back.”

  Moving to his feet, Ian offered Riley a hand, pulling him up from the muddy ground just as Shrader and Noah joined them. The Casus howls were getting closer, the beastly sounds punctuated by the deafening blasts of thunder that seemed to be growing in intensity. The rain and wind whipped violently around their bodies, making it impossible to see into the moonlit darkness…while obliterating their ability to scent the enemy.

  Glancing at Noah, Riley struggled to force down his fear for the moment and focus his mind on the coming battle. “Looks like you were right about the second wave.”

  “And we can’t see shit in this weather,” Ian snarled.

  “Could be worse,” Shrader drawled, threading his fingers together and cracking his tattooed knuckles, the aggressive vibes that poured off his massive body saying that he was more than ready for the coming fight.

  Riley cut the Watchman a sharp, incredulous look. “How the hell could it be worse?”

  Shrader lifted his shoulders. “We could already be dead.”

  “Do you have a blade?” Ian asked Noah, who nodded, before reaching down and pulling a long, sinister-looking knife from the sheath attached to his right calf. As the only human in their little group, the guy was going to need all the help he could get when they faced the coming Casus.

  “If you see Gregory,” Riley grunted, pulling the Glock from his holster as he looked around at the men, “find me. That bastard’s mine.”

  Before anyone could comment, a group of eight men came into view through the pouring rain, about five yards away. They stood with six massive, fully shifted Casus, the monsters’ leathery gray skin slick with rain, sinister fangs gleaming within their deadly jaws.

  “Now those are the real deal,” Shrader muttered, his lip curling with disgust as he drew his gun. “Collective soldiers, and they’re fully armed. But luckily, bullets actually work on these assholes.”

  One of the soldiers stepped forward, flanked by two of the towering Casus. “Stand down!” the human shouted. “We’re not here for you.”

  “That’s not what Westmore’s men said,” Ian called out.

  “Westmore’s the one who wants the sheriff. All we want is the Casus named Gregory. We followed him here, so we know he’s nearby.”

  “Sorry,” Shrader shot back, “but we don’t trust anyone who plays footsies with the monsters. And let me just tell you. Those are some ugly-ass guard dogs you’ve got there. You
ought to shoot the damn things and put them out of their misery.”

  The Casus snarled, their black lips pulling back over the jagged rows of teeth that filled their muzzled mouths, until the man motioned for them to be silent with his hand. “You don’t want to fight us,” he said in a graveled warning.

  “And why’s that?” Shrader asked, his gun aimed right at the soldier’s chest.

  The man’s mouth tipped with a cocky smirk. “For one thing, we’ve got more firepower than you.”

  “Not for long,” Riley muttered, realizing that this was at least one problem he could remedy. Narrowing his eyes, he stretched out his left arm, splayed his fingers and focused his power. As he closed his fingers into a hard fist and pulled back his arm, the soldiers’ guns were torn from their hands. The heavy weapons flew through the air, before landing with a splash against the wet ground near Shrader’s feet.

  “Oh, man,” the Watchman drawled, giving a low whistle. “I so wish I could do that.”

  “Noah, grab a gun,” Riley grunted, reaching down and picking up a weapon for his empty left hand, while Shrader did the same.

  The Collective soldiers fell back, their expressions ranging from disbelief to fury, while the Casus moved forward. The tallest one looked almost as though he was smiling as he said, “Looks like we’ll be handling the situation now.” He turned his icy gaze on Riley and his smile widened. “And would you look at what we have here. Town’s been buzzing all day with the news that you’d finally ripened up, sheriff. I wonder if you have any idea how many eyes have been on you lately. Watching. Waiting.”

  “Two Buchanan Merrick,” a second Casus growled, stepping forward to join the first. “Yum yum.”

  “Must be our lucky day,” sneered a third as he cut an eager look toward Ian, who had just shifted back into his Merrick form. “Now that Malcolm’s gone, you’re fair game, Merrick.”

  “Give it your best shot,” Ian growled, the guttural words followed by a violent crack of lightning that struck the ground no more than twenty feet away. The earth shook from the force of the strike, and then everything erupted into chaos as the two sides suddenly charged one another. The cracking blasts of gunfire battled the jarring roar of the thunder, accompanied by the gritty, bestial snarls of the Casus as they slashed with their claws and snapped with their deadly jaws. When he ran out of bullets, Riley stopped fighting the burning heat at the tips of his fingers and allowed the Merrick’s talons to finally slip free. As he tore his talons across the leathery gut of one Casus and sent it writhing to the ground, he watched from the corner of his eye as Noah tossed his empty guns away, using his knife to slice through another Casus’s thick, corded throat. But the wound was too shallow, and instead of going down, the monster charged the human, who continued to fight with the kind of skill that only came from years of training, making Riley wonder just what the mysterious Winston did for a living.

  He looked for Ian and Shrader in the driving rain, and spotted his brother backing toward him through the downpour, his drenched T-shirt splattered with crimson splashes of blood. “I think some more Casus have shown up,” Ian shouted over his shoulder, his gaze whipping cautiously around. “It’s time for you to make the complete change, Riley. Stop putting it off.”

  He nodded, forcing himself to let go of the fear, knowing he had to do everything he could to make it out of there alive, so that he could rescue Hope. He couldn’t let himself think about what might be happening to her…what she might be suffering.

  Pulling in a deep breath of the storm-scented air, Riley finally stopped fighting it, and allowed the dark, predatory blood of his ancestors to rise up within him. A hoarse, guttural cry broke from his chest, his arms shooting wide as the primal Merrick broke free for the first time, its power at full strength after the feeding that Hope had given him. His muscles and bones expanded, straining the seams of his jeans and T-shirt, while heavy fangs burst into his mouth, his face reshaping itself into something that was more than human. Something that felt at home there in the midst of the bloodthirsty battle against its mortal enemy.

  With his Merrick in full possession, Riley began to fight his way through the monsters, and it soon became clear that all the hours he’d spent training with the Watchmen in recent weeks had been worth it. He’d just downed a Casus with a vicious swipe of his talons, when he turned to find one watching him from the shadowed darkness, its powerful body partly concealed by a massive, swaying maple. Certain that this Casus was a newcomer to the fight, Riley stalked toward him with a purposeful stride. Watching his approach, the creature stepped out from behind the tree, the rain drenching its body, slipping over the beast’s huge shoulders and muzzled, wolflike head. And when it smiled at him, there was something about the curve of the cruel mouth that told him it was Gregory.

  “It’s about time you showed up, you son of a bitch! Where are they?” he roared, wanting nothing more than to take the Casus apart with his bare hands. Sink his fangs into the bastard’s leathery throat. “Where is Hope? Does the female have her?”

  “Your little Hope’s already dead,” Gregory sneered with a cold, cruel smile. Riley had been moving with increasing speed, driven by the urge to take the Casus down—but those five words brought him to a jarring, staggering stop.

  He stared, his mouth working, wanting to shout that Gregory was a liar. That it wasn’t true. But nothing would come out. And though he tried to keep it together…to hold tight to the reins of his control, he could feel them slipping away as a niggling thread of doubt wormed its way into his mind. It coiled itself around his fear with devastating, destructive skill, tearing him down, crushing him beneath the pain of her death…and Riley knew, in that moment, that this was the end. The one he’d always known was coming.

  “Get back, Merrick!” one of the Collective soldiers suddenly shouted over the heavy sound of the wind and the rain, moving in from Riley’s right, while three of the man’s comrades approached from the left, each of them gripping a long, silver blade. “This one is ours.”

  “Like hell he is,” Riley snarled, ready to launch himself at Gregory, when another powerful crack of lightning struck the tree at the Casus’s back, sending shards of wood showering over the area. A hazy veil of smoke filled the air, destroying what little visibility there’d been, just as Riley felt himself begin to go under.

  So this is it, he thought, numbly aware of something black and wretched and foul climbing up from the darkest depths of his being, spilling like a toxin through his veins as he threw back his head and let out a chilling, bloodcurdling cry of fury and grief. There was a distant corner of his mind watching on in horror as Riley and the soldiers rushed forward at the same time, racing to get their hands on Gregory. Screams filled the air as he began tearing his way through the human soldiers, a red, visceral haze washing over his vision as he slashed out and ripped into their muscled bodies.

  It’s just like the vision, he thought, picking up one human soldier and hurling him through the air, before reaching out for another. He could hear Ian and Shrader shouting his name—but he couldn’t respond. The rage was too savage…too strong, Gregory’s words slicing through his brain like a blade, scalding and sharp. Riley fully expected Ian to order one of the others to put a bullet through his head at any second, and he closed his eyes, trying to pull Hope’s memory around him in his final moments.

  Needing to make his brother understand, wanting him to know why he’d lost the battle against the raging darkness, Riley used every last ounce of his strength to shout, “She’s dead, Ian! Gregory said she’s already dead!”

  “Goddamn it!” his brother roared, the furious, terrified sound of his voice reaching deep and fighting its way through that violent, red-tinged haze of hatred and pain. “He could be lying, Riley! Are you going to let that son of a bitch win, without even fighting for her? What if she’s out there? Alive? What if she needs you?”

  He shuddered, lifting the man in his arms above his head, his talons digging into the soldi
er’s arm and leg as the man screamed, fighting to break free. The maddened, primitive rage of the Merrick seethed inside Riley’s mind, demanding blood…vengeance, telling him to tear the bastard into pieces.

  But it was the soft, husky words in his heart that made him pause, his body gripped by a powerful, heaving tension as he struggled to listen to her words.

  “Are you just going to give up on me, when you don’t even know for sure?” Hope’s beautiful voice whispered through his mind. “When you don’t even know if he’s lying?”

  She was right, damn it! She’d made him promise to have hope, and Riley knew that he couldn’t let himself slip into the writhing mass of visceral, primitive rage without doing everything he could to fulfill that promise. He couldn’t give up, not when there was still a chance that she was out there, needing him. Within the darkness of his mind, he glimpsed that tiny spark of light in his soul, that same one that he’d seen before, and he grabbed on to it. Reaching out with his mind, he cupped that shimmering flame within his hands, and instead of burning his skin, it spread its life-giving heat throughout his body, pouring into him, the shocking, incandescent burst of light blasting through the cold burn of madness and fury. And with it came the strength to fight his way back to the surface.

  Throwing the soldier to the ground, Riley hunched forward, bracing his talon-tipped hands on his bent knees, working to breathe through the painful, clawing emotion still ripping through him. Lifting his head, he glared at the injured Collective soldiers as they pulled themselves to their feet. “Get the hell out of here,” he forced through his clenched teeth. “We’ll take care of Gregory. But you leave. Now.”

  They looked at one another, their expressions hard, rigid with anger and pain, but they turned and limped their way into the woods, obviously deciding to cut their losses while they still could. Riley watched them leave, while trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. The vision…it had started to come true, his fury and grief over the possibility that she might be dead nearly destroying him. But Hope had said that life was all interpretation…perspective, and in a way, she’d been right. He now understood that it’d been the rage of thinking he’d lost her that pushed him into the dark, seething madness he’d seen during the “vision” ritual all those years ago—but he also knew that Hope’s faith in him had been powerful enough to pull him back out again. That it had given him the strength to have the hope that he would find her. That the bright, breathtaking future he’d never allowed himself to dream of might actually be theirs.