Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set (70 page)

Beryl leaped at the woman, who barely had a chance to scream
before she slammed against the ground. Other warriors moved to take the fallen
woman's place.

As instructed, the villagers ignored the battle and calmly
continued toward Quakahla. Tony came to Lily's side and she again put her hand
on his shoulder, watching the drama unfold and trying to choose her next move.

Philippe had resumed human form and was now groveling naked
in the mud. Snarling and yelping, Beryl wove between the warriors, deftly
avoiding the flying holy water. Sebastian grinned in satisfaction, which told
Lily he had a plan.

Suddenly realization dawned like a punch to the belly. The
rain was diluting the effects of the capsules and water. Already Philippe was
back in wolf shape, scrambling to his feet. Beryl was through the line of
warriors, almost upon the people. A boy of about ten walked behind a woman
carrying a baby.

Sebastian barked an order in Lupinese.
Him.
Sebastian
was sending the wolves after the boy, who she recognized as Gerard's grandson,
knowing Lily would rush in to protect him.

"Lord," Ravenheart cried. "Your
promise."

"It only bound me if the others did not fight,"
Sebastian snarled. "Be still now, and watch my plan take shape."

Beryl closed in on the boy, whose eyes were firmly affixed
on his mother's back. Tony bellowed, racing forward to assist. Lily flew behind
him, her sandaled feet barely touching the earth.

By the time she caught up, Tony was already standing
protectively in front of the boy. Beryl crouched down, his muzzle curled back
to reveal his fangs. But trapped between the warriors and Tony, he couldn't
avoid their weapons. Coughing from the ammonia, singed by the holy water, and
besieged by the warriors' spears, he jumped to safety.

The boy's mother grabbed his hand and they moved on with the
rest of the villagers. Philippe cowered beside the fallen Beryl. Tony lumbered
toward them, roaring angrily. Lily ran behind him.

Then the last of the pilgrims exited the longhouse. Star
Dancer emerged, holding Shala's hand.

"Now!" she heard Sebastian cry.

Lily spun toward the sound and saw Ravenheart barreling
toward the longhouse. In one ground-eating jump he landed by the door and
ripped Shala from Star Dancer's grip.

Shala screamed. Helpless, Star Dancer stared in horror. Tony
abandoned his attack on the smaller wolves and galloped forward.

"Back off, White Hawk, " Ravenheart snarled,
 
"or I'll break the neck of this
sniveling spawn of yours."

"What do you want?" Tony asked.

"My Lord wants the she-wolf. I want your life."

"Are you prepared for a fair fight?"

"Fair, bah? When the wolf woman possesses such powers?
No. Enter the woods with me. Alone."

"No, Papa!" Shala cried.

Lily realized no one was paying attention to her. The rain
made everything hard to see, even for the keen-eyed wolves. Carefully guarding
her intention from psychic probes, she inched her way closer to Ravenheart.

“You will have your fight, Arlan." Tony growled.
"Now let my daughter go."

Just as Lily neared Ravenheart's elbow, Shala came alive in
his arms, kicking, screaming, creating the final diversion Lily needed. Leaping
forward, she touched the young werewolf. His fur sizzled and he whimpered. Lily
ripped Shala free and raced toward the forest.

"Get her!" she heard Sebastian shout, but knew his
order fell on deaf ears. Beryl and Philippe were still licking their wounds,
and Ravenheart clearly understood the futility of his lord's request.

"Papa, Papa!" Shala cried as they ran across the
rain-drenched village. "Go back, Lily. Help him."

"I will, sweetheart," she rasped, almost too
winded to talk. "As soon as you're out of danger."

"But, Papa . . .”

"He's a warrior. Trust him." And then they were in
the trees and Lily thought of the ravine where she'd frequently taken her
meals. Shala would be safe there.

Soon she settled the girl in the big sycamore. "Stay
here until one of us comes for you or—" She hesitated. "If all grows
silent in the village, watch the dark moon. Run for Quakahla before it
passes."

"No, Lily. I want to help you save Papa."

"You can't, Shala, and you know that. You'll just get
in the way." Lily tried hard not to speak sharply, but Tony . . . he was
in such danger. "You must promise you'll do as I say. Please
promise."

After a long pause, Shala sobbed, "I promise."

Lily whirled for the village. The rainy night fell into
total blackness. The eclipse was now complete and would start to move off. Time
was running out.

     
* * *

Knowing Shala was safely with Lily, Tony's terror eased. He
lowered his head, backing up, and drawing the werewolves from the door of the
longhouse. Beryl and Philippe had shapeshifted and healed their injuries.
Ravenheart had also recovered and now crept forward. Sebastian stood behind
him, waiting.

Many of the warriors had fallen during the battle. Their
comrades handed their injured or lifeless bodies over to the pilgrims, then
regrouped. As instructed, none would abandon their post to come to Tony's aid.

Which is as it should be, he thought, as the four werewolves
converged. Too
 
many to beat, but he
roared and rose on hind legs regardless, preparing to fend them off for as long
as he could.

Beryl sprang at him first, his jaw poised to clamp on his
throat. As Tony braced himself for the blow, the werewolf suddenly fell.
Ravenheart stood over him, glowering.

"No, whelp," he snarled. "The shaman is
mine!"

"Yours?" Beryl screamed, bouncing to his feet and
towering over Ravenheart. "This is my rightful kill."

Ravenheart dipped his head, then surged upward, closing his
teeth on Beryl's throat. Gurgling, Beryl drove his clawed hands into
Ravenheart's head. Ravenheart grunted, then lifted a leg and jammed it into
Beryl's tender underbelly.

"Desist!" Sebastian roared. "Cease!"

But the two werewolves were tearing at each other. Mud
scattered under the force of their powerful claws. Fur flew, blood flowed.
Philippe stood by the raging Sebastian, clearly stunned. Then Beryl fell and
didn't get up.

Tony was forgotten for the moment. Though the rain beat down
relentlessly, casting everything in gloom, Tony still saw the faint curve of
light that signaled the dark moon was ebbing. Less than a dozen people were
left in the village. The rest had passed into the canyon, and the warriors
would soon follow.

He loped toward the forest. Lily and Shala were somewhere in
there, and he'd bring them out and take them to Quakahla or die trying.

Then without warning, a massive weight landed on his back
and he fell into the mud. Rolling, he came face-to-face with Ravenheart.

Already suffering from his first encounter with the
werewolves, he wasn't certain he could prevail. But Ravenheart had his own
share of battle scars. Blood trickled down his wolfish forehead from a ripped
ear. A patch of missing fur on his shoulder oozed red.

Tony sank his teeth into the injured shoulder. Ravenheart
quivered, then closed his own fangs into Tony's head, shaking it viciously,
ripping flesh. Blood seeped into Tony's eyes, but garnering his strength, he
twisted his hindquarters and sent the werewolf tumbling on the ground.

Then they were both on their feet — Tony on hind legs —
circling each other, feinting, moving closer. "After you die, White Hawk,
I'll take out Star Dancer. I was planning to kill your daughter too." He
laughed cruelly, the sound resembling a hyena's cackle. "But I have
decided she will make a fine servant when I finally rule Quakahla."

"You'd better hurry, traitor." Tony gestured his
great white head to the sky. "The time for passing is nearly over."

With a howl, Ravenheart lunged. Tony let him gain speed,
then swiveled just as the werewolf struck. Ravenheart fell to the earth, but
quickly regained his footing. Crouching, he moved in on Tony. Then he was all
over him, claws digging, teeth biting, and the blood pouring from Tony's wound
was nearly blinding him. He aimed at Ravenheart's throat, but missed. A leg
aimed at the belly fell short of its mark. When the werewolf flew at his own
underside, he tried to swivel again, but his muscles had grown weak and clumsy.

Just as Ravenheart teeth grazed Tony's stomach, his weight
was lifted up.

"You are too ambitious for your own good,
wolfling." Sebastian held Ravenheart several inches off the ground by the
scruff of the neck. "Rule Quakahla? Bah, you are not good enough to lick
this shaman's feet. You are doomed to remain a beta wolf indefinitely."

Sebastian threw the younger werewolf toward the body of
Beryl, where he landed on the lifeless form. With a shudder of revulsion,
Ravenheart regained his footing and lifted his head, a deadly expression in his
eyes. But the werewolf King took no notice as he turned his back and gazed down
at Tony, "Philippe will deliver your coup de grace, Shaman."

Tony saw Philippe covetously moving in on him, and saw
Ravenheart crouch behind Sebastian's back. He was losing blood, losing it fast
and too much of it, but he still had some strength left. He considered breaking
the connection with the bear, but either way he was no match for two werewolves.
Philippe, he could take care of. If luck held, Ravenheart would give Sebastian
more than enough to deal with.

"You old fool!" Ravenheart roared, charging at
Sebastian. He head-butted the older werewolf
 
but Sebastian recovered quickly and whirled, giving his attacker an
open-handed blow that sent him reeling.

Philippe, taking no chances of losing his kill, dropped his
head to take out Tony's entrails. Tony rolled, digging out a mound of mud and
kicking it into Philippe's eyes.

Then a wild scream undulated through the night. Everyone
froze, eyes turning toward the sound. Lily was careening across the village,
slipping and sliding in the mud, silver hair streaming behind her and uttering
a fierce cry.

Ravenheart forgot about Sebastian. Returning her enraged
cries, he raced toward her. They met under the light of the half moon, Lily not
skipping a beat as the werewolf put his hands on her. Though he shuddered
horribly, though the stench of burning hair rose from him in waves, he held on,
shaking Lily. Her head flopped back and forth. Her eyes fell closed.

Tony scrambled to his feet and broke into a run. But
Sebastian was ahead of him. With a spray of mud and water, he vaulted through
the air, landing just behind Ravenheart. In one quick movement, he grabbed
Ravenheart's neck and wrung it.

The wolf sank to the ground, taking Lily with him.
Disregarding his own safety, Tony broke his connection with the bear and knelt
beside Lily in human form. Her face was white against the dark mud. The crystal
at her neck had grown pale, as lifeless as she looked. Whipping out his knife,
he pivoted to protect her from Sebastian.

But the werewolf king made no move. Ravenheart lay dead in
his moonlit shadow, and he turned dully to take in the body of the fallen
Beryl. Philippe alchemized to wolf shape and began slinking backward toward the
maze.

Arching his neck, Sebastian let out a howl so mournful it
chilled Tony's bones. Then he swept down, lifted Lily off the ground, and ran
toward the forest.

Lily's outraged cries hit Tony's ears, alleviating his
dread, but they faded into the darkness of the woods before he could get to his
feet. Deathly stillness now cloaked the village. All the people had entered the
cave. The animal pens were empty.

He sprinted into the forest, ducking here and there to avoid
runoff from the trees. He ran with the quiet movements of a practiced warrior,
but still heard no other sounds. It was as if Sebastian and Lily had
disappeared, and though he knew Lily had taken Shala there, he had no idea
where.

He heard a twig snap. Brandishing his knife, he spun toward
the sound.

"Papa?"

And then Shala was running toward him, throwing herself into
his waiting arms. "Oh, Papa, you're safe."

Tony held her close, his joy at finding her dimmed only by
Lily's disappearance. Should he instruct Shala to stay here and continue
searching? But the smaller werewolf was lurking about somewhere. Shala had no
defenses against him, while Lily had many.

"Hang on, little one," he said, then broke into a
run.

"Where's Lily, Papa?" Shala asked in alarm as they
came upon the quiet village square. "Where is she?"

In the sky, the pale moon grew larger—less than a quarter of
it remained in darkness—spilling light across the village that revealed the
brutal wounds on Beryl's lifeless body. Tony pressed his daughter's head
against his shoulder to shield her from the sight.

"She's at the gate," he told her, then took off
for the cave, hoping against hope that Lily had escaped and was waiting for
them there.

Riva was standing beside the gate. "Hurry," she
urged as Tony raced into the cave.

"Is Lily here?" he asked.

"Where's Lily?" Shala cried simultaneously.

Sadly, Riva shook her head. "The gate is closing, Tony.
You can't wait much longer."

"We aren't leaving without Lily," Shala asserted,
squirming out of Tony's arms. She ran to the mouth of the cave, peering out.
"Where is she, Papa? You promised she'd be here."

He walked over to her, knelt, and brought her to his chest.
"Not promised, little one. Just hoping."

His daughter raised her head. In the diminishing pulse from
the gate, he saw her eyes were dry and her face full of determination.
"Then we'll wait for her."

"Shala," Riva said softly from her place beside
the gate, "the dark moon is waning. If we don't cross soon, it will be too
late."