Charming the Alphas (Hex My Heart, #5) (2 page)

Zane angled toward him, a look of pure horror all over his face. “There. Did you catch that?” Dread filled his words and Zane hit replay for the second time before it finished. He positioned the phone between them. On the edges of his hearing, hidden behind Marabelle’s voice, five distinct rings echoed. One for each of the earthly elements as Marabelle explained, signaling witches and warlocks of the approaching winter solstice and the magickal annual gathering.

She thought no one was around to witness the plan she’d brewed up to reclaim her magickal powers from the High Council. That had to be it. How else could he explain her recklessness and still keep sane?

“She never left the High Council’s palace.” Lucian dropped the clutch and took another curve that had them kissing their own asses. Whatever their witch was up to left her in more danger than she knew.

Instead of hitting replay this time, Zane let the message continue.
“Come ou’ ya lit’le bitch, I c’n smell ya and I c’n smell ’em too.”

The familiar voice of the killer shot ice through his veins, and hearing it for the second time didn’t lesson the blow any. No amount of prayer would lessen the truth either.

“One more time.”

Zane complied and Lucian leaned in.

As enforcers they were trained to deal with mangled bodies, but the horror they found tonight had a different vibe from anything they’d ever dealt with before.

The killer not only returned, but for some reason had Marabelle in his sites and they were miles away from helping her. Lucian scrubbed a hand over his day-old, thick stubble. “We can’t lose her, Zane. Fuck. This shit you can’t make up.”

“We don’t know the High Council has anything to do with the murder.”

“If he’s there with her I’m not willing to play detective and wait around for more clues or for them to make another move.”

“Me either. But until we have her close we play it cool.”

“Copy that.”

Zane replayed the last bit of the message again, and the raspy gurgled voice carried over the speaker in a mesh of words that ran together. As if speaking didn’t come naturally and words had no business falling from his mouth.

In their world that meant one thing. When a shifter spent most of his time in wolf form, speaking abilities faded after a few months. At the one-year marker or thereabout, all human instinct melted into the habits of their beast. Eventually the poor fool would be more wolf than man within a year and a half tops. Last known case had happened centuries ago when powerful warlocks captured numerous weres—dragon and wolf alike—during the bloody battles and ensnarled them with a spell that prevented any prisoner from shifting back to human. After a few months of torture, what came out the other side were brainwashed beasts unleashed on their own kind with orders to kill, all this under the command of sinister masters.

Lucian swallowed a curse. Echoes of the recent past pelted him with a one-two combo that had him nauseated. “I just... there’s no freaking way, man. We killed him. Saw the blood and buried the body fuckin’ kinda killed him. You don’t come back from being six feet under.”

“That we know of. Who the hell knows what the High Council’s been up to behind their thick walls and mysterious magick gatherings.”

Lucian ground his back molars, gritting out his worse fear. “Marabelle does.” She researched and reported as the High Council required of her on matters of law, while keeping an eye on their comings and goings. The way Lucian understood it, Marabelle continued on in her role as if they hadn’t violated her and worked to regain their trust. She’d watched their moves, calculated their defenses and planned to strike when they’d least expected it.

That burned. He loved her spontaneous nature, but this time it could get her killed.

She played the quiet, handled and subdued little witch by day and by night she stayed after hours searching for the hidden tomes the ancients were whispered to have that held every spell and counter-spell known to the magickal realms.

So they said. He believed Marabelle, but he didn’t make it a habit to step in the middle of witch law. Something he planned on changing.

“Easier proving the fucking Easter Bunny is real than finding a way to prove the warlocks had anything to do with the murders tonight.”

Tension compacted against his chest and made every breath harder than the last. “Magick is the only way.” He rammed his hand into the wheel. “Hell, I don’t know, but Marabelle would.”

Zane nodded, but kept silent. Neither of them could wrap their heads around this shit enough to find any real answers.

Their witch worked as a librarian within the palace walls and for the highest of warlocks—Royals that considered themselves gods amongst mortals.

A few months before, she’d helped a human with spellwork, some love potion, and the High Council saw it as breaking the law. Soon after, they stripped Marabelle of all her powers and left her with one option: work within the walls of their fucking gothic-looking castle prison. Just the thought of her possibly stumbling onto something she wasn’t supposed to see sent a new wave of fear to ride him hard.

Zane played the damn message again and Marabelle’s voice jerked Lucian out of the past.

“I...I... someone’s coming. Gotta go.
”

Spine rigid, the muscles along his neck bunched. Whispered warnings rattled in the back of his mind.

“I can’t do this again. We lose her and that’s it.”

“You can’t think like that.” Zane braced for the last curve that spiraled down to the sleepy town of Sweet Briar Hollow.

Finally.

Thick, towering pines stood sentinel over the stretch of road that led along the back side of the small Maine town. Scattered houses dotted the hilly landscape, spirals of smoke the only sign anyone still lived in the quiet town.

Large evergreen branches bowed from the recent heavy snowfall, reached across the two-lane highway and gave travelers a clear path, for a few miles anyway. He gunned the accelerator.

“How long since she left that message?”

Zane gave a couple of flicks over his cell phone screen and answered in a strained voice. “Almost two damn hours.” For once he’d like to get the upper hand.

“I know what I scented, and so do you.”

“Ghosts don’t kill and that woman’s body smelled like him from head to toe.”

Grisly images of the victim, a petite woman with her throat torn out and bite marks along her entire body, filled his mind. No matter how hard he tried, nothing would wash away the senseless violence.

Two years ago a series of murders struck two local packs and took everyone by surprise, leaving shifter families terrified to leave pack lands.

Jake, Sweet Briar’s pack alpha, called in help from their alpha and that’s where they came in. In the end, seven shifters in as many days had died alongside three human women before they’d caught the feral shifter responsible for the killings. Deep in blood lust they discovered markings on his body that suggested a warlock or witch had tortured him, but their alphas counseled against sharing the details to keep the peace. Now he didn’t know what the hell was going on, but if Marabelle got pulled into this, a fucking force of dragons and shifters wouldn’t hold him or Zane back from seeking vengeance.

Blood lust did not happen overnight. If they were dealing with that again, once came off as a coincidence, twice was a wake-up call.

When a shifter consumed too much blood, their system did one of two things. It either boosted the human instincts and calmed the beast with logical thinking, which separated shifters from wild wolves. This kept them from hunting humans as savage animals.

The other, they turned feral and killed everything in sight, desperate for more blood before their latest kill had time to cool.

Now they had a whole new angle to consider. Mind-bending. If history repeated itself, there would be more than just otherworldlies caught in the crossfire. Humans were targets now too. Since coming out three decades ago, no one would be safe if the High Council reopened an old wound.

Lucian took a hard left and hit gravel. Tires slung snow and pebble-packed bombs as he made record time up the long drive that led to Marabelle’s cabin.

“We check her cabin first, then make a plan from there. Agreed?”

Before the truck came to a full stop, Zane had the door open. Guess that meant yes.

Bone cracked, skin shifted to fur as his best friend freed his beast, forcing his own wolf close to the surface. Power surged and his muscles grew strained, but he forced his wolf back in case Marabelle needed him. His wolf growled, clawed at him to run and seek out the enemy; tear them apart until blood paid the debt owed their mate.

Lucian clenched his teeth and fisted his hands to ground himself. With a better grip on his control, he turned to Zane’s wolf. “He followed her here. I’ll go to her. You take the perimeter.” Already in motion, he tracked the white fur of Zane’s wolf as he disappeared into the dense woods surrounding Marabelle’s place. “Good hunting, friend.”

A small pool of light spilled through the thin curtains to cast a glow over the entrance. He pushed through the snow and in a few steps shoved the door all the way open. Standing in the middle of the room, his heart stopped. Marabelle withered on the floor as her body convulsed from an invisible force that ate at her.

In two steps he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Marabelle.

“Please don’t let this be happening.” The twisted bastard had already been here. Marabelle’s convulsions calmed and Lucian stretched her limp body out on the floor, covering her with the small throw blanket from the nearby couch. At least she still drew air. But why? How? Something didn’t add up.

“What happened?” Zane rushed in, pulling on his jeans, and hobbled over as he slipped on one unlaced boot followed by the other. Freezing winter air clung to him along with something else. He turned to Zane for confirmation.

Anger darkened his expression. “He was here, but the fresh snow is making quick work of diluting his trail. Gotta go now while I can still pick up his scent.” Before he could finish his words, Zane looked down and froze.

In the dim light from the tableside lamp, Zane fell to his knees beside them and reached across Lucian. “Her heartbeat is faint and her breathing is shallow, but she’s alive. Did he do this?”

Lucian shook his head. “Anything he touches dies. So I don’t think so. She’s done something, or taken something from the looks of it. Could be his work, but not his MO.” With swift movements, Lucian ran his hands along her neck and inspected her body for any external injuries hidden from sight just to be sure.

Zane grabbed her hand and moved to lift her body. “There’s old magick at play here. It grates on the senses and this level of power is way outta our league. There’s no one that can help her besides her sisters. We have to move now.”

Lucian agreed. At first, she looked so calm, peaceful. If he hadn’t witnessed the horror, he’d say she was in a deep sleep.

In all his years as an enforcer, he’d never dealt with witches magick. Shifters possessed a different kind of power. Their source of magick tied into the moon and not the ley lines as a witches’ did.

Lucian lifted her body as he stood. “Fuck. Marabelle. What have you done?”

A flash of light caught his attention seconds before glass tumbled out of Marabelle’s fingers to clank against the hardwood.

Zane plucked it up and sniffed the contents when his gaze landed on the huge book in the center of the table with remnants of herbs and a few small bags tossed aside. With his thumb, he scraped the porous bottom of the grinding bowl. A tang of copper hit him first and overshadowed all other ingredients.

“You know what this means, right?” Zane had a knack for putting a voice to his thoughts.

Before he could answer, thunder rolled over the cabin and the vibrations reached into his body and brought his attention around to the front. Floorboards quaked and various items rattled along the fire mantel and tables. Lucian’s head reared up and his eyes flashed with ire on the cusp of a bestial growl as heavy footfalls grew closer. Silence filled the room seconds before two silhouettes broke from the shadows.

His lips peeled back in warning. Dragons.

“We have guests.” Lucian bit out the obvious between clenched teeth. “And that explains the blood.” He gave a nod toward the bowl and tucked Marabelle between them, his fingers brushing against her neck.

Fear struck dead center.

“Zane, she’s not breathing.” Lucian fell to his knees and spread her flat on her back.

One rip and he had her thick sweater split open and smooth skin exposed. Hands poised over her heart, Lucian leaned over and called on his wolf. White energy flowed from his hands and fed into Marabelle.

“It won’t be enough, Luc, We’re not mated.” Even as he spoke he placed his hand on Zane’s, hoping as much as he did that whatever they could offer Marabelle would be enough.

“We have to try. Check her pulse.”

Zane pressed two fingers against her aorta. “Faint.”

She couldn’t die. They couldn’t fail her. “C’mon, that’s it, breathe, Mara, breathe, baby girl.” Lucian stole glances toward the door. Night clung to the strangers’ faces, standing watch from the dark, hiding their identity well. He didn’t need to see them to know the stench of dragon shifters. Charred cinder mixed with pine of the forest surrounding them, he guessed, and if fresh air could be labeled as a scent, it clung to them too. It filled his nostrils a split second before bone cracked and the white fur flashed by as Zane bounded in front of him to protect Marabelle.

The second dragon shifter, broader than the first with long black hair, pushed forward, dodging Zane’s elongated teeth in a warning snap as he drew too close to Marabelle. Lizard boy halted, swiftly crossing his right arm over his chest before bowing his head and taking a left knee.

Not a right knee that signaled surrender during battle. Either was a potentially lethal move with an alpha in protection mode and a sign he hadn’t seen in decades.

“Calm, yerself wolf, we mean nae harm to yer mate or ye, but we must move quickly.” Amethyst-rimmed eyes flashed his way with warning but darted to Marabelle and bounced between the mortar bowl and the remnants of her potion work.