by Deirdra Eden
I strapped on my belt. I wouldn’t have much of a head start. The wolves could be outside waiting for me now. I hopped on one foot, trying to pull my boot on. The scabbard flapped against my side, tripping me, and I tumbled onto the bed.
I shoved my other foot into the second boot. My fingers quivered as I laced the ties unevenly and wound the strings into several knots.
I hurled the bed away from the door and raced down the hallway. My boots pressed awkwardly on my little toes. I looked down and rolled my eyes. My boots were on the wrong feet. There was no time to correct that mistake now.
“The innkeeper is getting your horse ready.”
I raced for the door. The Scotsman grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the inn. “Don’t go that way,” he informed and motioned toward the kitchen.
I followed him through the kitchen, and we burst through the back door. The innkeeper waited with my horse, bridled and saddled. The cold wind whipped around me. Dark mists swirled across the muddy road. The wolves were close. The air grew colder and the sky darker.
The young Scotsman boosted me into the saddle.
“Thank you,” I said. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t warned me.
“No, thank you for standing up to those soldiers,” he said. “I’ve never been saved by a woman before.”
The innkeeper chuckled. “I guess not all you English types are rotten.”
I shook my head. “No, we aren’t. Thank you. I will never forget your kindness.”
A howl echoed, shattering our farewell.
I kicked the sides of my midnight black horse and took off at a gallop. Storm clouds blanketed the stars, darkening the world in an obsidian sheet. I reached the outer rim of the city, and the road curved northeast toward Edinburgh.
Howling and yelps broke the eerie silence of the night and resonated in quick, low wails. They had my scent. Panic sprang from the pit of my stomach and stole the moisture from my mouth. My wet hands gripped the reins tighter.
“Yah!” I called and urged the horse into a full sprint. Clods of mud flung into the air behind my mare’s hooves as she galloped down the slick road.
Another wolf howled from the south. I glanced over my shoulder. Six wolves, as tall as my horse, bounded behind me. Their red eyes blazed with hunger like hell’s lanterns.
I clenched my teeth and held out my hand. A stream of fire shot from my fingertips in their direction. The flames lit up the woods, revealing spiny trees and more wolves racing with the main pack. The beasts dodged my fiery assault.
“Nine wolves,” I whispered to myself. The most I had ever fought at once was three, and that had been a close competition.
I could hear them now, panting behind me and snapping at the mare’s legs. The scent of carnage hit my nose.
“Yah!” I desperately urged my horse to run faster, but she was already exhausted from the day’s trip. I couldn’t outrun the wolves. My only choice was to lose them in the woods. I veered toward the unfamiliar forest. Wet brush slapped past my legs. The wolves stayed on my blazed trail, dodging between trees and racing alongside me.
I drew my sword and looked from the wolf on my right to the one on the left, desperately trying to ascertain a battle plan. The forest gave way to a clearing. Two wolves simultaneously lunged for me as if they had planned and practiced how to execute the assault.
I extended my sword while shooting a ball of fire in the other direction. The pressure of crunching bone and tearing flesh vibrated up my arm as the lunging wolf skewered itself on my blade. I lowered the weapon and let the weight of the dead body slip off my sword as my horse continued to gallop.
The second wolf whirled as if trying to shake the flames from its back. It charged like a flaming battering ram into my steed. My horse reared from the attack. I clung onto the saddle and gained control of the injured mare. I commanded her forward, her gallop uneven now.
A deep gorge marked the clearing like an unnatural scar on the Earth. I pulled back on the reins, stopping my horse before I plummeted into its depths. A river raged along the bottom like a death trap.
The alpha wolf emerged from the forest. Shadows billowed off his wild fur, as if he emanated black fog. Red light flashed in his eyes. His massive paws hit the mud, but left no prints. “It’s over—you’re trapped,” he said. I recognized his hoarse voice. He was the soldier who had taken my scent at the inn.
I raised my sword defiantly. “I won’t be held prisoner.” I’d rather die than be captured and tortured again.
“Of course,” the wolf’s voice dropped to a low growl. “We weren’t ordered to take you prisoner. You have been marked by Erebus for death.”
The ground rumbled and lightning whipped across the sky. Rain dropped in frigid waves.
I glanced behind me at the deep gorge and raging river. If I could make it to the other side, I could lose them.
I shot another stream of fire at the wolves. My golden firelight reflected off a million raindrops like a torch igniting in a crystal cave. The flames whirled around the alpha male in a sphere of heat.
One of the smaller wolves lunged for me. The momentum of the attack threw me back and knocked me off the horse. My head slammed against the ground. I blinked once to shake off the assault, just as the wolf’s gaping mouth of dagger-like teeth opened wide and plunged toward my face.
I gripped the beast’s massive head with smoldering fingers and dug my nails into his eyes. The wolf jerked back. I rolled to press myself up into a stand. Another wolf’s teeth sank deep into my arm.
It shook its head, ripping my flesh apart. I screamed and beat against the Shadow Wolf with my fist. It flung me onto the muddy ground. My shoulder snapped and searing pain raced across my chest and down my back. Every nerve in my body shrieked with torment.
I burst into flames, the wolf released its grip, and I scrambled to my feet. I had to get away while I still had the strength to summon my Neviahan power. I turned my feet sideways and slid down the muddy slope of the gorge to the river below. My hand trailed behind me, catching on twigs and rocks as I tried to balance myself in the rapid descent. The wolves wouldn’t dare submerge themselves into the water. The rain was probably torture enough. The Rebellion avoided water as much as they avoided sunlight. Pure water was one of the Shadow Legion’s weaknesses; unfortunately, it was my weakness as well.
I glanced over my shoulder. The wolves bounded down the hillside after me. The sound of the river below grew louder and drowned out the howling and snarling. It was my only chance of escape.
My feet sank into the river. The shock of icy waves stung my skin. My long skirt soaked up the frigid water like a wick. I hurled myself into the rapids and plunged below the waves. The torrent battered me as I desperately clawed against the current to reach a breath of air. My head emerged from the river and I gasped. The remaining wolves raced along the bank.
Bolts of lightning struck the earth. Wind whirled around me. The river rapids grew faster and whipped me through the maze of sharp rocks.
It seemed that even the river warred against me. The currents hurled me into a cluster of boulders. I clung to the jagged rocks protruding out of the water and flexed my toes, trying to keep the current from ripping the hastily tied boots off my feet.
The river rushed passed me in icy waves. I took in quick breaths when the water momentarily broke from slamming against my face.
Mists of darkness swirled around the wolves pacing on the bank. “How long do you think you can hold on?” a wolf taunted.
I coughed and sucked in more of the river. I had to pull myself out of the water and make it to the far bank. My injured shoulder and arm burned with agony. I could do this. I had to. I clawed at the rock until my fingers burned. Hot sparks from my fingernails showered off the stone each time I slid back. I tried to ignore the pain and focus on the bank. It was just over a meter away. I reached out with my leg, pointing my toes to try to balance myself onto the shore. I could almost reach it.
/> I prepared to fight my way through the river to the other side. I pulled back for more momentum and heard something snap. A large tree branch rolled toward me. Like a massive enemy hand, it ripped me from the rock and held me under the river.
Below the surface, I held my breath and struggled with the web of wood, breaking the limbs, trying to escape the grasp. My cold hands trembled, my lungs burned. I felt my engagement ring slip from my finger. I fumble in the water, trying to catch the ring Lucas had given me. I saw it glint as the current carried it away.
I couldn’t do this anymore. My powers were null under the waves; I was injured, I had no strength left, and now I had lost my engagement ring. Panic took over.
The water rushed around me. I snapped a few branches out of frustration, but couldn’t free myself. My lungs ached as I surrendered my last breath to the flood.
Chapter Five
Captured
I could feel their teeth ripping into my flesh, sinking past the muscle and gnawing on my bone. I screamed and grabbed my leg. This was an all-too familiar dream. I was only thirteen when Hazella, a Watcher gone bad, captured me and tortured me for information about my powers. That time in my life was over, but the nightmares still continued.
My eyes sprang open. Air flowed into my lungs with ease, drowning out the fear I remembered before everything had gone black. My heart pounded as loud as the pain pulsing from my brow.
By the stone walls and faint light, it seemed that I was underground or in a cave. I was grateful for the dim light or my headache would have turned into a warzone behind my skull.
I didn’t dare sit up or move too fast, but I touched the smooth quilt wrapped around my beaten body. Reaching farther, my fingertips brushed along the silky fur of a great beast. Images of Shadow Wolves flooded my mind. I shot up. My vision swirled with dizziness.
A massive white tiger raised its head and perked its ears forward. I hadn’t expected this. I froze in place and stared into the pale blue eyes of the great cat. The tiger was so wide and thick I could have ridden it like a horse. The cat’s head was the size of a shield. I had no doubt its teeth were as long as daggers. A faint spot of sunlight came from behind me at the cave entrance. Did I have a chance of escaping the tiger’s den?
Ignoring my injuries, I slid toward the mouth of the cave with slow, controlled movements as my eyes adjusted to the light. My hand hit a candlestick. It clanked against the stone floor and rolled toward the giant cat. My heart sprinted, and I held my breath, waiting for the beast to pounce. The cat sniffed the candlestick, looked up, and blinked with sleepy eyes.
Bright red blood soaked the tiger’s coat across its striped shoulders. It was hurt. I recognized the cruel pattern of the wound. “The wolves,” I realized. The tiger must have saved me, but why? The great cat was the size of Erebus’s largest alpha wolf and could have easily devoured me if it wanted. The tiger lowered its head submissively. I had seen house cats do the same thing when they wanted affection.
I lifted my hand and reached toward the great beast with cautious fingers. “Nice kitty,” my voice quivered. My trembling hand sank into the white fur. The cat rolled onto its back. I jerked away at the sudden movement.
The tiger blinked at me and curled its massive paws, begging to have its belly rubbed. I relaxed, slid toward the tiger, and stroked the colossal kitty’s fluffy stomach.
The tiger let out a playful rumble deep in its throat that almost sounded like a satisfied purr. How adorable. I wondered if King Edward would let me keep it as a pet in the castle. I leaned into the beast’s warm body and noticed clean bandages lining my arm where the wolf had bitten me. Apparently the tiger wasn’t the only one who had saved me.
My gaze darted around the cave. Bags of traveling gear, clothing, a pair of muddy boots, and several swords filled the void. “You’re already someone’s pet?” I asked the tiger. The tiger narrowed its eyes and looked offended. “Oh, sorry,” I apologised for the unintended insult. “I suppose you are too majestic to be a pet.”
The tiger perked its ears forward. Its whiskers lifted proudly.
“Thank you for saving me,” I said and continued to stroke the tiger’s fur.
A deep masculine voice shattered the silence of the cave. “Don’t let him take all the credit for saving you.”
I jumped and whirled around to face the stranger. Backlit by the cave entrance, a white aura swirled around the man’s silhouette as if he were a god from mythological tales. I held my hand to my face, shielding my eyes as they adjusted to the light he radiated.
The man knelt beside me and reached for my hand. I pulled away, slid back against the wall, and focused on his features. A dark mask lined his handsome face over his familiar, shimmering eyes.
“Who are you?” I tried not to sound suspicious, but he seemed too beautiful to be human.
“My name ‘tis Azrael.” His calm voice soothed like royal velvet. “I am Scotland’s Watcher.”
“You are a Watcher?” I could hardly breathe. Finally, someone like me.
He nodded.
I didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. He was not human, though he was in a human body, and the enemy couldn’t radiate light the way he did. Here was someone who understood who I really was. We were the same. I suddenly felt liberated from the human world with a sense of belonging. My veins rush with unearthly energy like I was being cured of homesickness. “I’ve never met another Watcher before.” I searched his features, looking for part of myself in him—the non-human part.
“Like you?” He smiled and shook his head to disagree. “I may be a Watcher, but I’m not as fair or delicate as you are, m’lady.”
Looking down at my damaged arm, I couldn’t deny his statement about being delicate, but I didn’t believe I was as fair as the god-like warrior.
I cringed, thinking how I must appear to him. My arm looked awful, and I could only imagine the ruins the rest of my body was in.
Azrael reached for my hand. A blue spark shot from his fingertips to mine. I jerked away, but he grasped my hand and kissed the top in a perfect, gentlemanly way. He lifted his eyes, but kept his lips close to my hand. I could feel his breath as he spoke. “I am overjoyed at finding you.”
I recoiled my hand. “How did you find me?” I asked, shying away from his admiring gaze.
His eyes danced with amusement behind his mask. “I simply thought of the most trouble you could get into and knew you would find a way to make it happen.”
I smiled sheepishly. He had me there. “Where are the Shadow Wolves?” I asked, hoping to learn of what happened after everything went black under the raging river. Every horrible scenario started playing through my imagination.
“The Blood Hunters are dead. Orion, Korban, and I slew the rest.”
“Blood Hunters?” I asked.
“Blood Hunters, Shadow Wolves, Hell Hounds, Moddey Dhoo, they’re all the same thing,” Azrael said.
“Just three of you took on all those Blood Hunters?” I said, using the same perfect term to describe the beasts.
The tiger lifted his head and turned one ear back while perking his whiskers forward.
Azrael scratched the tiger between the ears, then added, “And the cat, too.”
The tiger seemed pleased with the acknowledgement and laid his head back down on his paw.
“It wasn’t that difficult,” Azrael said. “You killed four of the wolves before we got to you.”
“Four?” I whispered, and smiled. That was a new record for me.
Azrael nodded. “Even the alpha wolf was completely scorched when we got to the site. You have a remarkable power inside you.”
I beamed, still amazed that I had killed four wolves in the chaos, including the alpha wolf. I sat a little taller and felt more like a warrior.
Azrael took my hand. His celestial energy absorbed into my skin like the intense warmth of a campfire on a cold night. “After you eat, I need to drain the venom pooling in your arm.” He ran his fingers along my ban
dage.
“Venom?” I gasped. That explained the searing burning in my forearm.
Azrael nodded. “Yes, from one of Erebus’s wolves.” Past the mask hiding his face, he stared into my eyes as if looking into my soul. I felt completely exposed under his intense gaze. “Your fire gift is not only a weapon, but it can also heal your wounds.” Azrael explained, “After the tiger pulled you to shore, I examined the extent of your injuries. You already healed your arm with fire during the battle, ‘tis how I knew of your healing gift.” He nodded to my shoulder. “I assumed you could only heal flesh wounds since your shoulder is still dislocated. I suppose your ability to mend your open wounds is a way to protect your precious blood from the Shadow Lords who crave it.”
“You’re brilliant,” I praised his accurate evaluation. Usually I wore my ruby necklace to heal bruises, sprains, breaks, and other injuries that didn’t involve torn flesh.
Azrael’s lips twitched into a smile before he turned serious again. “The real problem is the venom from the Blood Hunter’s bite. I put some salve on it to slow the effects, but I need to cut your arm open again to drain it out.”
I took a deep breath and imagined the painful procedure that loomed in my near future.
“You are only mortal, but for a mortal you are still more powerful than even the Immortals.”
I smiled at the exaggerated compliment. I had heard stories about the Immortals. I was nothing like them.
Voices came from outside the cave and two silhouettes stepped in front of the entrance, blocking the light.
“What’re we goin’ to do with the assassin?” a man with a thick Scottish accent asked in a cheerful tone.
The second man laughed. “She’s a lot prettier than I thought she’d be. If England’s assassins are all like her, I hope a few will come after me.”
I put my hand to my forehead. What a disaster! How many people knew about my ridiculous assassination mission?
Azrael’s mouth turned up in one corner. “Meet Orion and Korban.”
I remembered Azrael mentioning them. The two men were just as god-like and beautiful as Azrael. I noticed all three wore traditional Scottish kilts and plaid sashes. Leather straps crossed over their varying earth-toned, short sleeve shirts to hold their weapons on their backs.
