Soul Resurrected (Sons of Wrath, #2) (47 page)

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you.”

“Smart mouth and a mean left hook. Don’t fuck with
me
.”

Logan sneered at that.

A deep bellow of agony hit the air and echoed outward, as Zayne hoisted Zeke over his shoulder and strode off in the direction of the car.

Gavin sidled up next to Logan and Xander, wiping what could only be Zeke’s blood onto a kerchief. “What do you want in return?”

She finally stuffed her dagger into its holster and crossed her arms. “I don’t want your money, demon.”

Gavin looked over his shoulder, scanning the surroundings. “Not like you’re living the high life here.”

“Welcome to Section Eight. We get by just fine.”

“And so what would make you get by better than fine?”

She shrugged. “Got any of that Lywa stuff that peeps been talking about?”

“What
peeps
have been chatting about that?” Gavin stuffed his kerchief back into his pocket.

“Never mind.”

“Any chance you know a nephilim by the name of Ryke?”

Her jaw jutted out, as though she hesitated to answer. “Yeah. I was fucking him up until he went missing. He’s the one who told me to see Fatman about hiring the
infamous Wraths
to find Matty. Thanks for turning me down.”

Gavin’s gaze fell on the lycan. “How is it possible that he escaped a fallen guardian and ended up in a basement?”

Her brows furrowed. “Fuck you.”

“Answer the question.”

She swiped at her nose. “Because I couldn’t fight off the hunter
and
those white things it had with him. I’m just a girl, remember?”

“You lied to Fatman. Told him lycans took the kid.”

“I was under the impression a hunter was after your brother. Didn’t think you’d take the case.”

“Do you know why the hunter took the kid?”

“Yeah. In case you didn’t happen to notice, kid lycans are flying off the shelves lately. Matty’s seventeen. Makes him a hot ticket.”

“Fatman’s dead.” Logan watched her eyes narrow as he spoke. “Apparently, he couldn’t fight the hunter and Sang, either. And
Ryke
was the one who hired a bounty hunter to come after me.”

“Damn. Something’s not clicking here. Feels like we were baited, somehow.” Gavin looked past her. “Why’d you save my brother?”

“Matty told me you released him in the basement. He followed after the hunter. The hunter dumped your brother. We picked him up. We’re even.”

“The hunter was after something else.” Logan could hardly form the words, not wanting to hear the answer.

“Yeah. Matty said a female.”

Logan’s lip twitched. “How’d he know it wanted the female?”

“When he was captured. He could hear the conversation through the floor. Men talking about a blonde. The Alexi. And some journal.”

“Wade’s journal.” Gavin rubbed his forehead. “They say what they wanted her for?”

Lyric glanced down to the wolf. “He doesn’t know.”

“What’s with Marrick?” Gavin’s tone sounded as if he was setting himself up to apologize to the bastard.

“He helps me watch out for Matty. That’s all. He’s a good guy.”

“Sure.” Gavin nodded. “Forgive our haste, but Zeke needs our attention.” He pulled a business card from his leather trench and handed it to her. “Unfortunately, I don’t have access to the Lywa antibody. But should you wish to discuss a proper reward for this, give me a call here. Thank you, Lyric. We’ll not soon forget this.”

She took the card and tightened her lips. “Yeah. Okay.” With the lycan at her heels, she took off toward a cluster of ruined buildings.

The ringing of a cell phone chimed from Gavin’s pocket and he dug it out and answered. The relief from a moment ago turned grim, his eyes downcast before they settled on Logan. “Thank you, Ben. We’ll be there.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Draven’s disappeared.”

“How the …” Xander scratched a thumb across his jaw. “That was Diablis steel. No way he could’ve flashed out of it.”

“Ava’s missing, too.” Gavin pecked at his phone as he spoke. “Gotta believe she played a part in his escape. Should have fucking known Ryke’s sister was as shady as he is.” His eyes briefly met Logan’s. “I gotta feeling we were lured here tonight.”

Logan’s heart beat like a caged gorilla trying to break free from his chest. “Is Calla all right?”

The pecking stopped and Gavin’s shoulders slumped. “Ben says she’s gone. But I got a signal on Zeke’s cell. You think Calla still has it?”

“I sure as fuck hope so.” Logan shifted on his feet, unable to hold still as Gavin waited for the coordinates.

“Signal’s coming from Fourteenth, over by Vernor Highway.”

“Let’s go. Now!” Logan’s hands balled into fists.

Gavin nodded at Xander. “You and Zayne take Zeke back. Logan and I will go after Calla.”

“And miss out on a fight? You must be joking. ‘Sides, how the fuck you gonna get there, Brother? I got wings.” Xander winked and turned his attention to Logan. “You give a shit about this woman? Don’t strike me as the give a shit type.”

Logan rubbed his hands down his face and through his hair. “Yeah. Fuck me. I do.”

* * *

Eyes locked onto the white being in the corner of the abandoned offices, Calla backed slowly away.

Hunched over what looked like it’d once been a human body, the way it sat tearing away at a gaping ribcage of grisly remains told her it was hungry.

Sang. Must’ve been. It had the same pale skin and foul scent as the others, but looked far less human than the one that’d nearly taken her at Sanctuary.

When it finally turned, its smashed nose and pointed ears reminded her of a bat, if not for indentations along its skin giving it a maggoty appearance—
hideous
. As it sniffed the air, the black orbs, set within the pure white face framing them, settled on her.

Oh, God
.

It hissed, and before she could blink, white streaks darted through the air and claws gripped her throat.

A long serpentine tongue emerged from its mouth and brushed across her cheek.

Bloody fangs closed in on her.

Straining her face to the side, Calla jammed the point of her wrist-bow beneath the creature’s jaw and pressed the release. The sound of tearing flesh signaled the arrow’s path through its head as blood burst from its crown, and she kicked back away from the creature the second it shot backward and its hold on her slackened.

Though, like the top of its head hadn’t even been blown out, it zipped back across the floor—straight for Calla.

Before it could reach her again, something grabbed hold of Calla’s nape from behind and lifted her into the air. Her shriek escaped as she peered down, but the stiff clutch of whatever held her prevented her from identifying her captor.

In her periphery, Draven scrambled across the floor below her toward the white creature kicking the thing onto its back as he raised a dagger, but he disappeared from Calla’s view as she was swung out of the room.

Harsh grunts and the blasts of warmth on her neck had her breaths panting, her chest tightening in panic. Air burst from her lungs as she hit cement. With her boot still tight in its grip, Calla trailed her gaze upward—toward where the black carapace carried a dull shine in the darkness.

The bounty hunter.
Oh, God.

Calla booted herself loose with her free foot and flipped onto her stomach. She clawed against stranded wooden planks to haul herself over the busted concrete toward the hole in the floor, but a tight grip on her ankle wrenched her back.

“No! No!”

A yank loosened her hold just as she reached the hole in the floor and sliced her palm open.

Like a truck barreling into her, an impact to her side nearly stole her breath—the pain from it scorching her body and blackening her vision.

Calla opened her eyes.

Shadowed lavender walls encased her. Somehow distantly familiar.

Am I dead?

She glanced around at the dark room. A bedroom. Clearly a girl’s, based on posters and pictures.

A shadow stood in the corner.

“Draven?”

He stepped forward in what little moonlight filtered through the window, and for the first time, she could plainly see the sickly pallor of his skin.

Calla shouldn’t have been as relieved as she felt. “Is this death?”

“It should’ve been.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is your bedroom, Calla. Before you became an Alexi.” He pointed to a dark stain on the floor closest to the hallway. “We found you there.”

Her gaze swept the room. “How did we get here?”

“I flashed you here. From my memories.”

“You’ve become one. The Sang.”

“Yes.” He swiped his hand across his solemn face. “I wanted to take you somewhere safe. Where the hunter wouldn’t find you.”

“I don’t remember any of this.” She glanced around the room and rose up from the bed.

“You don’t have to. But it’s who you were.” Draven stepped back, as if trying to keep a certain distance between them.

“No one lives here now? Everything is as it was when the attack occurred?”

“Who the fuck would want to live in a house where an entire family was slaughtered and two went missing from?”

Across the room, a small picture sat tucked in the corner of the mirror, recognizable even from where she sat.
Jacob
. She padded across the room, hesitating a moment before peeling it from the mirror. “I’d almost forgotten his ...” Tears blurred Jacob’s young baby face that stared back at her. “Why? Why did this happen to us?”

Draven strode to the closet, and from beneath a box atop of the shelf inside, he pulled a manila folder and clutched it to his chest. “I swiped it from Wade. Don’t know how many times I came back here after you joined the Alexi. I wanted to bring you a token of something.” He handed her the folder. “Your father worked for Penwell Pharmaceuticals.” Draven’s weary eyes met hers. “Recruited by Wade himself.”

Ire stirred deep inside her gut, the pain rising to the surface, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “Wade … he … worked for the military.”

“Discharged. Hired by Penwell.”

“He … killed my family.”

“If not for Ayden, he’d have killed Jake, too.”

“My natural antibodies were stronger than Jake’s, that’s why.”

“You never had natural antibody.” Draven sniffed and licked his lips. “Your father had been giving you and Jake small dose injections. He feared the growing lycan population. All of Penwell employees took it.”

“My … father?” A blanket of cold coated her insides and closed in on her chest. “Why did they kill him? If he carried the antibody?”

“I get the impression your father wanted nothing to do with Wade’s plans. That, and Wade found out you were a virgin.”

“How?”

Draven’s pupils seemed to have dilated beyond the usual brown. “Jase Penwell. Your boyfriend.” He gave a nod toward a picture, where the yellowing tape still kept it attached to the mirror.

In it, Calla kissed the cheek of a handsome young man with green eyes and sandy brown hair.

“The news says he died a couple years ago. Got really sick. Some say cancer.”

“What does my virginity have to do with anything?”

“That, I don’t know.” He glanced down at the file in her hands. “It’s written in bold inside. You were the first.” Blood-red in his eyes overpowered the white making his pupils large and black, menacing.

Something had changed about him—that much was evident—but rather than draw attention to the fact that she noticed, Calla turned back to the pictures. A man and woman stood side by side. Nothing registered as familiar to her, though the woman looked like an aged version of Calla, and the man carried features of her brother. “I hate you, Draven. So many ways I’ve wanted to kill you in the past few days.”

“Calla—you have to know, Jacob … I did
try
to save his life. You know I would never intentionally hurt him, right? He came along to help me find you. To save you from those demon bastards.”

“I’ll never forgive you, Draven. Never.” She glanced down at Jacob’s innocent face. “But, thank you.” Tucking the picture inside her coat, she turned around. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

His black pupils seeped into the red. “No need to thank me.”

Like a bullet, he shot across the room.

A blast thumped against her ribs, knocking the wind from her lungs.

Pinned beneath his pressing weight, Calla panted hard as Draven thrust toward her, fangs bared.

CHAPTER 37

Logan pounded his fist through the boarding that covered the window until glass shattered on the other side of it. “Calla!” His voice echoed through the destruction as he climbed inside.