by Gaja J. Kos
“It’s not like they’ve done anything noticeable since the bloody eighties,” another added in a rich bass. “I bet they’ll just hire someone to kidnap the kid.”
The third clicked his tongue. “The kid has some mutated version of Psoglav’s magic. Trust me, the Keepers will descend on Earth for that.”
The blood in Sebastian’s veins froze.
Rafael.
They were going after Rafael.
And he didn’t have a clue where the cub was.
Chapter 40
The lair was just as Katja had described it—with all the yet undiscovered backdoors and hidden passages. Only Zarja didn’t have time to think about any of that. She spotted her way in, and she couldn’t rip into the bastards soon enough. Without wasting another breath, she flung herself through the window, shards of glass snagging the vampires’ skin as they soared through the air.
She didn’t count how many of them there were in the room. It didn’t matter.
Because the fucker she wanted most was standing right in the middle of the room, a feral, deranged smile on his face.
The vampires closed in on her from all sides, those closest to Barle forming a barrier between her and the murderous fuck. Every tendon in Zarja’s body tensed, veins pulsing beneath her fur.
She would claw her way through all of them if she had to. And she would enjoy every damned second of it.
Rose groaned when a knock shattered the silence of her apartment. Veles murmured a string of curses under his breath, adamant to not let her leave the bed or the embrace of his arms. He tightened his grip on her as she tried to roll to the edge of the mattress, fingers digging into her skin with firm resolve. Rose wanted nothing more than to give in, but there was something about that scent, something familiar she couldn’t quite place.
Grabbing a morning gown, she wrapped her naked body in it and paused with her hand on the handle.
She inhaled the scent again, listening to the heartbeat and the ragged breaths.
Human.
There was urgency. But not a single hint of a threat.
She wasn’t certain just who she expected to find on the other side of the door, but a petite ginger woman with a pixie cut and heavy-rimmed glasses certainly wasn’t it. The stranger’s cheeks were flushed, and from the sweet smell of perspiration, Rose figured the human must have run here. Combined with the white tone of her skin, save for the blush, the state the young woman was in was painfully clear.
She was terrified.
Not that Rose couldn’t smell it on her already. The entire hallway was saturated with it.
“You don’t know me, but you know my girlfriend. Zarja,” the woman said in a hurry.
Instantly, the elusive pieces clicked in Rose’s mind. Of course. She had smelled traces of the female mixed in with Zarja’s scent on numerous occasions. The small satisfaction of figuring it out was soon replaced by the alarms that began ringing inside her head.
“Did something happen to her?” she pressed, her body going rigid.
“She—she got out of bed in the middle of the night and went straight to the front door. She ordered me to stay in the bedroom, but after I heard her leave… Zarja told me where you were, weeks before, in case I ever needed assistance. I think she’s the one who needs it now.” The female reached into the pocket of her sweatpants, producing a piece of paper. “I know I contaminated evidence, but I really think you should read it.”
“Evidence?” Rose asked, taking the paper.
“It was pinned to a woman’s severed head.”
Without wasting another second, Rose scanned the note. The alarm that had already been chiming inside her upped the volume to a deafening roar.
“Motherfucker,” she breathed, then half turned towards the bedroom. “Veles, listen to this: A little something to remember your snitching whore by. Fuck, the bastard must have offed his wife!”
The god rumbled something in response, but Rose’s head had already snapped back towards Zarja’s girlfriend. “What’s your name?”
“Lili.”
“Right, Lili.” Rose wrapped her fingers around the woman’s arm and pulled her inside the apartment. “You stay here, okay? We’re going to get Zarja. Everything will be fine; she’s tough and she’s deadly, but she needs backup. And I really don’t want you to walk the streets alone tonight.”
Veles came to stand by her side, immaculately dressed in black as ever. “The lair Katja found?”
“Yes.”
“Weapons?”
“I’ll shift.” It wasn’t her preferred form, but there was no time. Even if Lili ran all the way from the apartment with all the speed the human could muster, Zarja must have already reached the lair. And she was keeping the damned bond closed.
“We’ll bring her back,” Rose promised the woman and gave a curt nod to Veles before they shut the door closed behind them and stepped into darkness.
“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed as Rose’s phone went to voicemail. “Fuck!”
If she wasn’t answering, she was knee deep in fighting or some other shit situation that had flowed her way. Which meant the werewolf wasn’t at home.
He turned west, the lights of Ljubljana like stars sprinkled across a black canvas. Sebastian didn’t know what drove him there, some inexplicable impulse that whispered to him, reassuring him it was indeed the right choice.
He learned long ago to not ignore such instances of insight, and he had no intention of starting now. He dove towards the streets, not caring about being seen even it could get him in trouble with his brethren. The only people who could spot him while he was in his true form were other supernaturals or the few humans who had their own protectors. Not exactly a large crowd, especially with the chances of one of the latter snitching on him being in his favor.
There was a far greater possibility that the Kresniks already had him under surveillance because of his connection to the pack…
And if he was right, then he was swimming in shit regardless of his current actions.
He didn’t believe for a second that seeing him fly so low above the people was what interested them. Though it was a good excuse to keep him sidelined for a while if they chose.
He groaned, pushing the useless thoughts out of his head.
He couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. The pull to save the cub was too great. As was the course set in his mind.
He landed on the second story balcony of a low, nondescript building, and pumped his fist against the glass.
Almost instantly, the werewolf emerged from the dark apartment, his dark blond hair tousled from sleep.
“Yes?” Tim’s eyes went wide as he took in Sebastian’s primary, unshielded form.
“The Keepers are going after Rafael. I don’t know when, but we need to get the cub to safety.”
The drowsiness disappeared from Tim’s features in a heartbeat, the were already turning around.
“I’ll fly ahead if you tell me the location,” Sebastian pressed and stepped into the apartment behind him.
But the tone of Tim’s voice left no room for argument as he shot back, “No.”
Sebastian froze.
“If the Keepers are coming, they can’t see you there. We need you on the inside, Sebastian. I’ll pick up Evelin on the way. Go.”
The obsidian shadow standing next to him plunged into the dim room, long, lethal teeth on display, clashing with the darkness. She was beautiful—a silken promise of death, quiet and vicious. Eyes still following Rose, Veles strode into the space behind her, his mind slipping into Duševje with ease.
Having the werewolf by his side appeared to have been the key to shattering the barriers between him and the dark fragment of his power; the energy that waited in the depths of his very being now offered itself willingly, wishing to be used as he deemed fit. Though he didn’t fool himself into believing it would stay passive for long.
He sensed all thirty-two vampires, thirty-two souls vibrating in the ethereal pla
ne that was his to command.
Thirty-one, as his werewolf sunk her teeth into the neck of a traditional.
The olive embers that had been sizzling beneath his skin surged to the surface, coating his black clothes and hair in a halo of pure power.
He could take more. He felt it as tendrils of his energy slithered around the souls, tasting, exploring.
More than he had ever managed.
But even now, he couldn’t take them all.
His power wrapped around a soul. Two. Five. The net wove together, sealing the vibrating fields of air, of life and individuality inside it. And he pulled.
Five vampires collapsed to the ground, two who were closest to him, and three who had wanted to attack Rose from behind while she was occupied with a smaller group. A vampire darted towards Veles, but the olive sheen that pulsed around his body worked as a shield, the flames licking towards the attacker, almost daring her to play.
The vampire bared her teeth, now joined by another from behind.
A low, chilling smile spread across Veles’ lips.
If the impulse to play with fire drove them away from the wolves, that was perfectly fine with him.
Still rooted in Duševje, it didn’t take his power long to snake around new souls. He captured those at the far end of the room, not wishing to mark himself as the highest danger for fear of driving the vampires away. He liked them as they were—too blinded by their desire to kill to realize who was killing them in return.
In their eyes, he was nothing but another target to eliminate.
Veles smiled. He couldn’t have asked for more.
He snagged one vampire from Rose’s group and two out of the six that Zarja hadn’t already gotten her claws in.
He pulled.
And the vampires collapsed.
Whispers of darkness surged in his mind, the promises of the all-encompassing power that was his, should he wish it. He sneered at the voice, his eyes turning to trail the elegant, ruthless movements of his werewolf. A light sheen of pure gold coated her fur, the effect hauntingly beautiful.
She was his consort. His equal. His tether.
The whispers died down, and he cast new nets. Two vampires fell instantly, another following suit shortly after. Through the deaths, the process was becoming second nature to him.
As new vines began to form, he scanned the room.
Rose was doing perfectly well on her own, but he could see the blood trailing behind Zarja, oozing from her body every time her muscles tensed, and still, the were kept on going.
She brought down a tall female, crushing her windpipe before she propelled herself off the corpse, teeth first into her new attacker.
With no small amount of admiration, Veles realized what the two werewolves were doing.
He let out a cold laugh.
The state of Duševje held, and through it, he spread his energy, willing it to wrap around all the stray vampires Zarja and Rose hadn’t been able to herd into the corner. Without the whispers offering him absolute reign, his power was beginning to falter.
It demanded more of him, demanded those reserves, locked safely within his body. And, for once, he was willing to oblige.
He intended to use every inch of his strength, even if it meant losing the shield of energy around him.
If he succeeded, he wouldn’t have any use for it, anyway.
If not…
With perfect clarity, he saw the final net weave together around a soul. He exhaled, eyes drifting towards the two weres.
The spray of blood that now coated the wall offered him the answer he had been searching for.
With a tired smile on his face, he pulled, and did not fight the darkness that embraced him.
Chapter 41
Tim darted out of the car without killing the engine, his feet digging into the gravel as he dashed towards the house. Evelin’s heart was pumping in her ears, all her senses on high alert.
She could smell the blood even from this distance. As well as the death embedded into the scent.
Her stomach twisted.
For the first time in her life, she knew what real terror meant. Her fingers were clutching the door handle, the chrome bending beneath the pressure. Every instinct told her to move, yet she remained firmly pinned to her seat, her brow soaked with cold sweat.
She had barely been a child when her mother died, and in every dangerous situation life had thrown her way, all she had to take care of was herself.
But... Rafael.
She thought she had been afraid when the cub had shifted. When she had known, with cold certainty, that she would have to take him to the Kolduny.
She thought fear was the sensation that had followed Sander’s words, the sensation drilled into her bones by the undeniable fact that the Keepers would try to get her baby.
She had believed fear was hearing Tim’s voice over the phone, shouting at her to get ready and meet him outside.
But it was nothing.
Nothing compared to what she felt now.
She understood what it meant to be paralyzed by it.
A snarl tore itself from her lips, her claws and teeth lengthening and ready to rip through flesh and bone. She willed the terror to transform into bloodlust, to give her that additional edge, that state of mind where no opponent could stand against her and hope to win.
Because if something happened to Rafael, Evelin would bathe the world in blood.
The impulse to move reached her legs, sending her flying out of the car. She slid over the hood and propelled herself through the door Tim had wrung open. Her shoulder snagged the wooden doorframe, chipping the edge, but she paid the chaffed skin no heed.
She was beyond physical pain now.
The metallic scent seemed to grow with each step, invading her nostrils and saturating her mind with images she’d rather not see. She blocked them even as bile began to burn at the back of her throat, and she followed the taunting trail down the short, dark hallway. A stream of artificial light hit her as the kitchen opened up to her right, the sight nearly pulling her legs from underneath her body.
Blood coated the ground, the walls, the ceiling. It dripped from the wooden cabinets and pooled around the corner counter. There were pieces of flesh and bone scattered across the room, the smell of the massacre almost overwhelming.
And, in the middle of the gore, Tim sat hunched, cradling his grandmother’s mangled body in his arms.
The room swam in front of Evelin.
Barely quelling the impulse to throw up, she steadied herself against the wall and tried to breathe without inhaling the sinister presence of death. Terror carved sharp ravines inside her, inviting the violent darkness to coat her vision.
But she couldn’t give in now.
Claws digging into the doorframe, she ground her teeth and scanned the room. Her gaze trailed the scattered remains and followed the bloodied pulps of flesh until they led her to a large, muscular body.
The man lay on his back, offering a view of his sliced up torso, of the ribs protruding sharply from the deep gashes that couldn’t be caused by anything but werewolf claws.
Evelin swallowed.
The Keeper’s face was a mess of mangled flesh with no discernible mouth or eyes in sight. But what Evelin could see clearly was the sleek surface of the Keeper’s skull, coated in his own blood and marred by the lethal tips of Pia’s claws.
A flutter of hope came to life within her.
Snarling, Evelin resisted the urge to tear apart what was left of the Keeper’s corpse. Instead, she forced her senses to push past the reek of death and search for the one scent that mattered—the scent that meant home.
The hastened beating of a child’s heart reached her before the smell did.
Evelin swayed on her feet, catching herself the very second before the sudden onslaught of relief brought her to the ground.
He was alive. He was still alive.
With trembling knees, she waded through the gore—past Tim, who did
n’t seem to even notice her moving—and kneeled in front of a low kitchen cabinet.
Saying a silent pray to Mokoš, she pulled on the handle.
Violent shivers washed over her in an uncontrollable explosion, gripping her as she beheld the cub, his white fur untouched by the traces of death. Evelin collapsed on the floor, a different kind of nausea now rushing over her.
In the furthest, darkest corner of the cupboard, the cub was whimpering silently, his small tongue flicking over his muzzle in bouts of unrestrained anxiety.
“Oh, Rafael,” Evelin cried. Trembling, she retrieved the small were from the cabinet and cradled him in the unbreakable embrace of her arms.
Tears streamed down her face in unstoppable currents, and from behind, she heard Tim’s helpless sobs find their way out at last.
Chapter 42
Evelin squinted her bloodshot eyes at the sunlit highway, the lack of sleep a quiet presence under the wrath and fear that continued to ravage her body.
Pia had killed a Keeper. But the bastard had gotten to her as well.
Evelin’s claws slashed at the steering wheel, the desire to slaughter them all nearly blinding her vision. But she had to get Rafael to safety—Tim himself had ordered her to, even when she felt her pack mate’s distress, the need to not be alone. He had ordered her to get out of the house, take his car and leave.
So that Pia’s death wouldn’t be in vain. So that Rafael might have a chance at a future.
Evelin groaned, retracting her claws. The night had been long. After coming home to Mark and Til, there hadn’t been a moment’s chance for niceties. Though she had kept Rafael in her arms until the cub finally relaxed, the house had been alive with movement. Mark packed Till’s necessities while she put together Rafael’s. There was no room for waiting anymore.
The world they lived in wasn’t safe for the cubs.
She had barely kissed Mark goodbye before she watched him speed away towards Munich in his Chevrolet, fighting the tears that had begun to gather in the corners of her eyes. Not having Rafael by her side had been hard enough. And now she was losing them both.
