Howl (Witches & Warlocks Book 4) (15 page)

Calling on the magic of our tigers, we use night vision rather than turn on the lights, in case someone’s watching the windows for signs of life.

I gasp. The place is a disaster. The couch has been upended and ripped to shreds. My end tables are splintered and destroyed. The lamps twisted and misshapen and mangled on the floor. On top of the smell of burned linoleum and singed curtain is the scent of spray paint and I turn to find big streaks of black and red on my walls. On second glance, those streaks are actually words. Vicious words attacking my moral fiber and sexual orientation. I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry so I just follow the mess from room to room, hand to my mouth, stomach hollow.

What kind of madman would do this? What else could this guy do? Would he make good on his threat to tell the vampires? Would he truly turn his threats into something serious against my life? As I survey the mess, I become more and more certain that I know the answer to that question.

Yes.

Ty would most definitely tell the vampires what he knows about me. Hell, I’m not sure he hasn’t already. Maybe they’re in the middle of an investigation in the same way Albert is. I shudder at the thought.

“Zo?” Noah’s voice follows me up the stairs. “I know this sucks, but we need to go.” He’s right. As much as I’d love to take stock of all the damage, the longer we’re here, the better chance we have of something going wrong. I sweep into my bedroom to grab some clothes and gag on the smell. There’s a monster sized poo in the middle of my bed and the ammonia of urine stings my eyes. Covering my mouth and nose with my hand, I check my closet and find every article of clothing I own covered in spray paint and, judging by the smell, pee.

So. Gross.

I practically run from the room, choking and gagging, afraid I’m gonna throw up if I don’t get out of there. What kind of person…? But I’ve already answered that question, haven’t I? A crazy person. And all you can expect from crazy is more crazy.

“What is it?” Noah asks as I stumble down the last step, still coughing.

I explain and his brow furrows in disgust. I’m tempted to go look at the cars. I mean, if he’s this willing to hurt me, I’m pretty damn sure he’s gone ahead and destroyed our shiny new cars as well. And, oh! It was so nice having a seat heater! I can’t help it. I creep to the window and pull open the blinds, gaze out towards the driveway and choke on a scream.

The cars seem fine.

That’s not what scared me.

What’s got me all upset is the huge ass wolf sitting on top of my car, staring out towards the road. There’s no doubt in my mind who it is. That wolf is Ty and I can’t believe he hasn’t realized we’re here yet.

I gesture frantically at Noah to get him to take a look. Press a finger to my lips and then point out the window as he starts to ask a question. He swears under his breath when he sees who’s out there. Now that I’m over my initial surprise, I’m raging mad. I’d have thought I’d be scared. I’d have expected to be unnerved and threatened and ready to leave. Ready to call Daya and Albert and cower behind their authority.

But I don’t feel that way in the least.

This guy came into my home. Destroyed my stuff. Threatened my life and
pooped
on my
bed.
Peed all over my closet like he was marking his territory. Maybe another woman would be scared out of her mind. I mean, just a few hours ago, I
was
scared out of my head. But now? Nope.

I’m pissed.

And one look at Noah shows me that he’s feeling exactly the same way. His jaws and his fists are clenching in unison and his nostrils are flaring and he’s trying to calm down. Blowing measured breaths out through this open mouth. Taking my hand in his. But when he looks at me and sees his anger reflected on my face, it’s like fanning the flames of an already out of control fire.

I unzip my coat and let Twinks out. Whisper an incantation and watch as he scurries into one of the darkened rooms down the hall trailing protective magic like pixie dust. With one last look at Noah, I walk over to one of the lamps on the floor. Check the lightbulb and find it unbroken.

And then, after one last final sigh, I turn the thing on and light floods the living room.

Chapter Eighteen

There’s the scuttle of claws on metal as Ty pivots and leaps off the car. I cringe at the thought of all that scraped paint, as if that’s the most important thing happening right now. Noah backs away from the window, stands next to me, and we’re in the process of calling on our magic when a huge wolf shatters the window and barrels into the living room. I loose a ball of dark magic his way, all seething with poison and fire, but he’s fast. Way faster than I gave him credit for. The magic slams into the wall and the light in the room flickers green with the impact.

Ty crashes into me and I shriek as his teeth tear into my shoulder. Thankfully, Noah blasts him with an energy ball that knocks him to the floor. Instinctively, I’m waiting for the kill shot from Luke, which of course never comes. And that means that the kill shot’s gonna have to come from me. Noah’s way better at the defensive stuff than the offensive stuff.

Blood’s trickling down my arm and Noah’s working on a healing spell. I only have a minute to worry about the consequences of being bitten by a werewolf before Ty’s on me again. Knocks me over and my head strikes the corner of a broken end table on my way down. I grunt at the impact. Worry about the streak of sharp pain that ignites along the side of my head. And then all I know are wolf teeth and wolf breath and the fear of death.

My hands are scrabbling in the debris, searching for anything I can get my hands on. Noah hits Ty with another blast and I smell burning fur and flesh. I guess he’s figured out that without Luke here, we’re in charge of figuring out how to kill the bastard. I finally get a good grasp on what feels like the leg of an end table and I thrust it forward, aiming for his throat. It sinks deep into soft flesh and fur with a sickening sound.

The wolf roars, shakes his mighty head, and I cringe at all the blood. The bit of wood falls to the ground and the gaping wound heals as I watch. Shit. I really don’t know how to kill a werewolf. I scramble to my feet and call on the tiger. She bounds into existence and leaps at my assailant.

“How?” I shout at Noah while Ty’s distracted with my own set of teeth and claws.

Noah’s out of breath, sweating. He’s working hard to strengthen his magic, to make it strong enough to kill. That usually takes a lot of time with light magic, which we don’t have right now, so he’s expediting the process and I’m afraid he’s gonna hurt himself. “The head,” he says in between incantations.

“What about the head?” I yell.

“Sever it from the body.”

There’s so much sound and fury in the small room, I almost don’t hear him over the roar of the tiger and the bark of the wolf, the clatter of broken furniture, and the crash of gathering magic. And all the while, I’m trying to make peace with the fact that I’m going to have to sever a head from a body. Me. Zoe Tate. The girl who couldn’t speak just a few months ago is going to have to sever a fricken head from a fricken body.

And I don’t have one single clue how I’m going to do that.

Noah’s worked some magic on my shoulder, but it still hurts like hell. And blood’s leaking from out of my hairline now, too. The world is spinning and I feel so woozy.

Ty’s gotten out from under the tiger. His teeth and muzzle are covered in blood and I don’t know if it’s mine or the tiger’s or if the tiger can even bleed. I’m in the process of working out a spell to act as some sort of blade when something comes streaking through the broken window. There’s a yelp, the squeal and whine of a canine in pain. My eyes swim into focus in time to see Becca, her hands grasping the great head of the wolf, twisting. There’s a terrible sound. Cracking and tearing. It’s wet and I never, in all my life, want to hear it again. And then there she is, holding the head in her hands. Blood everywhere. And to make it all worse, the thing slowly morphs back into the head of a man and there’s Becca, holding Ty’s severed head.

I drop to my hands and knees and gag. Wretch hard. As if my stomach’s trying to turn itself inside out. Close my eyes and hope that helps with the nausea, but I can still see her, the image burned into my brain. Blood dripping from her hands. Strings of something dangling from the neck.

And that’s that. I heave the contents of my stomach onto the floor. Just one more terrible smell in a house full of terrible smells.

And then I open my eyes and find Becca staring at me. Her own eyes have gone black and her nostrils are flaring. Her chest is heaving. She drops the head and it hits the floor with a sickening smack. Her hands clench into claws and she sinks into a predatory crouch.

It’s only then that I realize I’m bleeding all over the place in front of a newly turned vampire.

“Get out of here, Zoe,” Becca growls through gritted teeth. “It’s all I can do to stand still.”

“If I run, you’ll chase me.” I say.

“Then don’t run.”

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.

Or not.

I totally know what to do with a vampire.

She stalks towards me and I glance at Noah, reach out to grab his hand and immediately feel his magic flowing into me, supplementing mine. He’s already used so much of his own, I hate to borrow some for myself, but there’s no way around it. Without Luke here, I’m going to need all the strength I can get in order to complete the transformation.

I feel it. A single drop of blood working its way out of my hairline and down my forehead. It hits my nose and slides off the side, trickles down my cheek like a tear. Becca licks her lips. And that’s all the warning I get.

She launches herself at me and I don’t even see her move. Her teeth sink into my throat and clamp down. I wail in pain, shrieking the incantation that will turn her mortal once again. There’s a great surge of magic. It rushes through my body and flows into the room, surges around us, and slams into Becca. It skates along the surface of her body, a glorious mixture of gold and purple. The pallor of her skin fades into a healthy pink. Her black eyes fade to a rich chocolate brown.

She stumbles back, gagging. Wipes my blood from her mouth. “What did you do to me?”

I clamp a hand to my throat, my stomach sinking at the way the wound feels. The slick coating of blood pouring down my shoulder, my back, my chest. The way the world tilts and spins. The way the ground rushes up to meet me.

Becca screams. Pulls her shirt over her head and presses it to my neck. Noah sinks to his knees and I’m struck by the big black circles under his eyes. They stand out against his pale skin. There’s a sheen of sweat across his forehead and upper lip. His hand trembles in mine. But his lips are moving, muttering spell after spell and strength flows from him and into me. The world stops spinning. The pain begins to dissipate. I can think again.

I add my voice to Noah’s, murmur my own healing spell. Focus on the wounds of my flesh and imagine them stitching back together. As I start to feel better, I turn my focus to Noah. Give him my strength. Bolster his magic with my own.

“Noah,” I say, trying to get his attention. “I’m fine, you can stop.”

But he doesn’t. He just keep muttering spell after spell as if they were prayers. His hands on my body. His eyes on mine. And because of the eye contact, I get to watch as his eyes lose focus. As they roll up into his head and his eyelids flutter. As they finally slide closed and he slumps forward, collapsing into me.

Heart stuttering, I slide out from underneath him. Stretch him out across the floor. Put my ear to his chest. Thank God, his heart is beating, if erratically.

“Can you help?” I ask Becca and she shakes her head.

“I don’t have healing magic.”

My throat is still bleeding, although I’m not in danger of bleeding out anymore. But I’ve definitely hit the tail end of my magic. Doesn’t matter. I turn my full attention to Noah. Close my eyes and call on my reserves. Search for what’s broken in him and send my magic in to heal it.

I’ll save him if it kills me. Heal him if it hurts me. He will not die for me.

Thankfully, neither of us are going to die tonight. I reach for Becca. Pull her magic into me and try not to shudder at how strange it feels. Her magic is truly some strange shade of gray, neither light nor dark. As different as it is, I can still use it and within minutes, Noah’s eyes flutter open.

Relief. I’ve never felt such relief as I do when he finally focuses on my face. Recognizes me. Swallows and tries to sit up. I let go of Becca’s hand and she takes a shaky breath. Stares at me in shock.

I don’t know what to say. Here we sit in the remains of my living room. Blood everywhere, both from our own wounds and the wounds we’ve created. The smell is overwhelming. The body on the other side of the room is appalling.

But we’re alive. All of us. For better or for worse. We’re alive.

Chapter Nineteen

We can’t call the cops, of course. That’s way out of the question. But we call Daya who calls Albert. No one shows up from the vampire camp, which is fine with me. Vampires creep me out.

Albert brings Xavier — the guy who lives behind the desk at the gym, who just happens to be his second. “Hey, lil’ witch,” he says as he walks into my house as if this is something he does every day and it’s not a big deal to find me bleeding in my trashed living room, next to a body and a witch who used to be a vampire.

Xavier’s here to be a set of unbiased eyes as Albert decides if Ty’s death was warranted or not. Apparently, it’s also good training for him since, as second, he’ll be Alpha someday. I store that little bit of info away to deal with later. I’m a little overcooked at the moment. Unable to process new information. But, the one thought I do have is that it’s not really much of a surprise.