Grave Rites: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Grant Wolves Book 6)

by Lori Drake

  She turned to look at him, but his eyes were locked on the cages. Then a bright flash went off in the doorway behind him, accompanied by a noisy ZAP and then a thud. Joey jumped back, blinking rapidly in an effort to restore her night vision. A murmur of alarm rose from the hallway, but she couldn’t see what was going on. A growl rumbled from her throat.

  Joey kept backing up until she bumped into something, then spun toward it, but she couldn’t make out more than a big boxy shape. The scent of blood made her nostrils flare, though. And not just any blood. Pack blood.

  Adam!

  She closed her eyes and sniffed her way blindly around the base of the thing in the center of the room, determining it was a table.

  Chris’s concerned voice soon joined the others. “Cathy? Aunt Cathy, can you hear me?”

  “The lights are on, but no one’s home,” one of the twins said.

  “What the hell was that?” the other twin said.

  “Magic,” Itsuo said.

  “No shit, old man! I mean, what kind of magic? I don’t see any kind of ward on the—”

  ZAP. Thud.

  Joey opened her eyes and blinked a few times, at least able to make out shapes in the darkness again. She reared up on her hind legs and placed her paws on the edge of the table. Sure enough, Adam’s familiar form lay on the table. She licked his cheek, finding it warm under her tongue, and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his chest slowly rising and falling.

  Dropping back down to the floor, she backtracked toward the light streaming through the open door to see what was going on. Cathy lay on the floor at the foot of the wall opposite the door with Chris crouching on one side of her and Dean on the other. Someone else was on the floor; only his feet were visible from where Joey stood.

  “No one else go near the door!” Chris said, throwing up a hand.

  Joey shifted back to human form, grabbing onto the door frame as this time—the eighth time she’d shifted since they’d descended into the tunnels—sapped a bit more energy than she was used to. “I found Adam. He’s alive, but unconscious.” She looked down, identifying the second fallen witch as Ali.

  “The door must have a powerful anti-witch ward on it,” Chris said.

  “Powerful, invisible anti-witch ward,” Fariq said, kneeling on the floor beside his brother. He slapped Ali’s cheek lightly, but his twin didn’t respond.

  “Then the witches are going to have to stay here,” Joey said, meeting Chris’s eyes. “She has to be around here somewhere. It’s time to end this.”

  “Are you crazy?” Dean asked, then barked a laugh. “Right, sorry. I forgot who I was talking to for a minute.” He gave Cathy’s head a gentle stroke, then stood and walked over to join Joey at the door, drawing the tire iron from his belt once more. “I’ve got your back, Red.”

  Joey nodded to Dean, grateful for his support. Then her eyes met Chris’s, and she read all the worry and hesitation there without him having to say a word. He rose and crossed the hall to join her.

  “I don’t like the idea of facing off against her without magic backup,” he said quietly.

  Joey’s wolf stirred, and with it a primal desire to touch him, to soothe and reassure him. She was worried too, but they were out of time for hesitation. She motioned for Itsuo to join the small huddle. Their team of seven was down to four.

  “I’ve got a plan,” she said, meeting each man’s eyes in turn. “And if this works…” Her eyes landed on Dean. “We’ll have all the backup we’ll need.”

  “Melinda!” Chris called as he strode into the broad chamber. “We know you’re here, so you might as well come out!” The marble tile was cool beneath his bare feet, but the rest of him felt borderline feverish. Adrenaline flowed through his veins as he scanned the big room, setting his heart to pounding in his ears. He didn’t particularly like this part of Joey’s plan—that he try to flush their quarry out of wherever she was hiding—but he liked the idea of her doing it even less.

  In the shadows, he could just barely make out the outline overhead of several elaborate chandeliers, probably coated in dust with cobwebs spun all over them. This must’ve been some sort of dining hall or ballroom at one time, but it’d been turned into a chamber of horrors for the poor souls that still inhabited the cages along the back wall. Chris could only see two huddled figures amongst the bars, but Dean had assured him there were more—the remnants of Melinda’s victims, caught between this world and the next.

  On the table in the center of the room, Adam stirred and groaned. Chris hurried to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Chris?” Adam blinked up at him in I-just-woke-up-and-don’t-know-what’s-going-on confusion.

  Chris squeezed his shoulder. “We’re going to have to have a talk later about not running off on your own.”

  The beta groaned and put a hand to his head, rubbing it gingerly. “Sorry, boss.”

  “Melinda!” Chris bellowed, turning his attention back to the matter at hand. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Even as he spoke, he helped Adam sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the table.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Adam said, putting his hand to his head again and swaying where he sat. “The last thing I remember is flying through the air.”

  Chris steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. “You probably hit your head. Just give your body a chance to heal a bit more.”

  Movement in his peripheral vision drew his eyes to the wall o’ cages. Joey and Dean had followed him into the room but moved along the row until they stopped in front of a seemingly empty cage. Dean shoved the flat end of his tire iron into the lock and tried to pry it open, grunting with the effort. Joey nudged him aside and curled her fingers around the iron and popped the lock easily. They opened the cage door, and Dean crouched in front of it.

  The hair on Chris’s arms stood on end. Even his lycanthrope ears couldn’t hear more than a low murmur as Dean conversed with the spirit within. Chris also didn’t like relying on the assistance of the dearly departed in this plan, knowing full well how capricious the dead could be. But any port in a storm, he supposed.

  “Melinda!” Chris called again, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. “As Alpha of Seattle, I command you to show yourself!”

  A door at the far end of the chamber opened, and the woman of the hour strolled in. Candle sconces around the room lit up as she did, flickering to life as one, raising the light level enough that Chris was able to make out finer details. Melinda looked exactly the same as she had the last time Chris had seen her, aside from the heavy leather glove on one hand. A thick chain dangled from that gloved hand, disappearing into the still-dark recesses of the doorway behind her.

  “Alpha of Seattle now, is it?” Melinda smirked and shook her head. “You must’ve gotten your delusions of grandeur from Adelaide.”

  Chris took an unconscious step toward her, a growl rumbling from his throat. “Don’t bring her into this, you— you—”

  “Visionary?” Melinda lifted a brow.

  “Psycho,” Chris finished, reigning in his wolf’s violent impulses. “Did you really think you were going to get away with this?”

  Melinda folded her arms, the gloved hand tucked under with the chain dangling from it. “With what, exactly?”

  Chris made sure Adam wasn’t going to fall off the table before taking a step away from him, closer to Melinda. “Kidnapping. Torture. Murder.” He kept his eyes on her, carefully avoiding looking in Dean and Joey’s direction. All her focus needed to be on him.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “In order to make an omelet, you have to break a few eggs.”

  “Those weren’t eggs, they were people!”

  Melinda wrinkled her nose. “Dime a dozen. Unlike us.”

  Adam glared at her from his seat on the table. “Where’s Dawn, you sick fuck?”

  Melinda smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  She yanked the chain in her hand, and Dawn stumbled through th
e open doorway. The thick chain was looped around her neck, the flesh beneath it an angry red. Chris’s heart stuttered at the sight of his friend, naked, dirty, and rumpled but whole. Dawn’s head hung low, face half-hidden by her hair.

  “Dawn!” Adam slid off the edge of the table but weaved on his feet. Chris caught his arm to steady him, but Adam yanked his arm away and took a few stumbling steps forward before falling to his hands and knees.

  Dawn’s head snapped up. She ran forward, but came up short like a dog on a leash and clawed at the chain around her neck. Her fingernails left scratch marks on her skin as she tried ineffectually to pry it away. “What did… you do… to him?” she choked out as her face reddened from lack of oxygen.

  Melinda wrapped the chain around her gloved fist, reeling Dawn back a few inches. “Nothing permanent. Don’t worry your pretty little head, my pet.”

  Adam retched, spewing bile and whatever else was in his stomach all over the marble floor. Chris took a knee beside him and put a hand on his back, but kept his eyes on the snake in the room. He couldn’t believe how easily Sara’s cousin had tricked them all. But, at the end of the day, she was family. Why would they have suspected her?

  “You can’t possibly be justifying the murder of innocent people with their overall abundance,” Chris said, continuing to divert her attention from what Joey and Dean were doing as they moved from cage to cage.

  Melinda flapped a dismissive hand. “Abundance, inferiority… such a fine line.”

  “Um, right.” Chris didn’t even try to follow that train of thought. “So, you thought you’d what? Build yourself a twisted inhuman army?”

  She snorted. “Hardly. But I guess I shouldn’t expect you to understand. Men have such a narrow view of procreation. Always thinking with your dicks.” Her eyes flicked downward, and though nudity wasn’t normally an issue among wolves, Chris suddenly felt exposed. “So predictable. So easy to manipulate.”

  “That’s what you think this is? Procreation? Are you mad?”

  “Oh no.” She smiled, zealous glint in her eyes. “This is so much more than that. This is propagation of the species, little Alpha. No more will we be beholden to our pathetic birth rate. I’m not creating life… I’m making it better.”

  “So, you what? Used your feminine wiles on Jordan, fed his inferiority complex, and promised to turn him into a lycanthrope?”

  Melinda laughed. “Oh, poor Jordan. I didn’t even have to sleep with him, and what a relief that was. Originally, I approached him to procure a wolf for me, but he was just so eager…” She gestured around her with one hand. “All of this is thanks to Jordan. I do hope you weren’t too rough on him.”

  “Killed…him…I hope…” Adam said, then retched again.

  She shrugged the news off. “He was never a good candidate for the process anyway. Men have such a low pain tolerance.”

  “That’s why you’ve been focusing on women? Some old wives’ tale about pain tolerance?” Chris asked. “That’s your justification for torturing innocent women?”

  Melinda narrowed her eyes. “It’s no myth, and I’m not torturing them. I put them under a sleep spell first. It’s all quite humane… well, usually.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I’m making them—all of them—better.”

  Chris fought the urge to back away from her. Her words shook him to his very core. He couldn’t even blame his rising bile on the acidic scent of Adam’s vomit invading his nostrils. “Making them better? How can you say that with a straight face? Are you blind as well as batshit crazy? Those… those things—”

  “Don’t call them that!” Melinda took a menacing step forward, baring her teeth with a flash of white before bringing her temper to heel. Her expression smoothed, and she adjusted her grip on Dawn’s leash. “I already explained that to you, little Alpha. And I don’t like repeating myself. Sure, not every one of my experiments has been a success. This is more of an art than a science. But each one of my creations has gotten me a little bit closer. And now”—her eyes strayed to Dawn, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth up—“I’m closer than ever.”

  “No.” Chris shook his head vehemently. “This ends now. You’re not doing anything to her. You’re not going to hurt anyone ever again.”

  Melinda’s laughter rang out through the cavernous room. “And you’re going to stop me, little Alpha? You and your merry band of talentless misfits?” A golden glow sprang up around her, and a sudden high-pitched whistle brought him to his knees.

  He pitched forward, grabbing his head with one hand and catching himself with the other planted on the floor. The shrill sound filled his ears—no, it seemed to emanate from inside his very skull, bouncing around and through his brain matter.

  “Stop!” someone cried.

  Chris lifted his head with effort and found Dawn surging against her chain again. The glow of magic surrounded her too as she whipped around, wrapping the chain around her throat as she spun to face Melinda. A spell lashed out across the short distance between them, but Melinda swatted it away with a counterspell. The spell struck the wall behind her and to one side, leaving a black scorch mark. But at least the pressure in Chris’s skull abated.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Melinda said, then uttered something in a language Chris neither understood nor recognized.

  Dawn went rigid, back bowed and arms spread at her sides as the magical glow around her intensified sharply, lighting up every corner of the cavernous room.

  Chris grabbed the table and pulled himself to his feet. His legs were rubbery, the memory of the splitting pain enough to send aftershocks pulsing through his nervous system. A big gray wolf launched itself at Melinda with a ferocious growl, but she flung a spell with her free hand, sending the wolf—Itsuo—flying.

  Dawn clenched her hands into fists, every muscle straining. She screamed, and golden light flew out of her open mouth as she tipped her head back, bowed far enough that Chris could see her wide green eyes. Tiny pinpricks of light emanated from her pupils, and the green turned hazel, then a rich amber in hue, irises growing larger and larger until almost no white was visible around them. Wolf eyes, Chris thought with a sinking stomach.

  He tried to call his wolf, but the creature eluded him. He had no weapons to hand and could barely stand, so he did the only thing he could think of that might allow him to help, consequences be damned. Draping himself over the table, he closed his eyes and left his body…

  And stepped out of one hellscape and into another.

  27

  Joey froze with the flat end of the tire iron jammed in the last lock when she sensed a surge of magic in the air. She’d been listening to Chris’s conversation with Melinda while working her way down the row of cages, popping locks as discreetly as possible. Fortunately, Melinda had remained either distracted by Chris or completely unconcerned about what Joey and Dean were doing, unlocking empty cages.

  She twisted to look behind her, pausing a moment to stare open-mouthed at the sight of Dawn shining like a tiny sun. She had a front-row seat when Dawn’s bowed body began to jerk and contort, a beam of magical light chasing the inhuman scream torn from her throat like she’d swallowed a flashlight.

  Joey’s skin crawled, and it wasn’t just from the magic hanging so heavy in the air she thought could actually smell it.

  “Joey!” Dean’s hand landed on her shoulder and gave her a shake, reminding her of their part in the plan. They had to get the cages open, both so they could rescue the women trapped inside and Dean could convince the lingering spirits to join the fight and take their revenge.

  Throat dry, she forced her eyes away from the sight of her imperiled friend and wrenched the tire iron downward, popping the lock on the final cage. Then she pressed the tire iron into Dean’s hand and turned back, settling into a three-point crouch. Dawn’s petite form had grown considerably in size in the few seconds she’d looked away and now sported bulging muscles as well. Her smooth flesh sprouted fur, but unlike Melinda’s other creations, it swiftly
covered her entire body. Her anguished cry stuttered as her jaw popped and cracked, her nose elongating and mouth widening until her head was more wolf-shaped than human.

  The chain remained around Dawn’s neck, but it smoked where it touched her, leaving a ring of singed fur in its wake. It had to be silver-coated, which meant it was going to be a bitch to deal with.

  “Faster, Dean. Faster would be better,” Joey said, her heart beating a rapid staccato. She glanced over at him, finding him wreathed in a silvery halo as he stood facing the cages with his arms spread. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear whatever he might be saying over the racket Dawn was making.

  Then Dawn went quiet, and the magic around her vanished, leaving behind a hulking beast with glowing amber eyes. Her massive chest heaved, eyes fixed on the woman still holding her leash. There was no malice in her gaze, though. Instead, Dawn lowered her eyes and head in submission.

  Melinda dropped her end of the chain and strode forward, showing absolutely no fear. She ran her gloved hand along Dawn’s dark muzzle, provoking a shudder that echoed down Joey’s spine, then curled her fingers around the chain and lifted it up and off before letting it drop to the floor with a noisy clatter.

  “My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Melinda murmured, then spread her lips in a cruel smile. “Kill them. Kill them all.”

  Dawn threw back her head and half-roared, half-howled, then turned obediently from Melinda. There was no shred of humanity left in her amber eyes as she surveyed the room, but Joey knew what it was like to ride shotgun with a wolf behind the wheel. Whatever harm Dawn caused while in this state, she’d remember all too well when she came back to herself. If she came back to herself. Body tense and poised for attack, Dawn’s gaze locked onto the weakest links in the room.

  Joey followed her eyes to the prone Adam and Chris—wait, why was Chris slumped over the table? No matter. She had to do something before Dawn ripped them to shreds. But what? She didn’t want to hurt her friend, but Dean needed more time, and she was more than capable of providing a distraction.