The Hunted (74 page)

Damn him!

I blinked slowly, trying to gain some clarity. I felt my strength waning. ‘Do you really think that by repeatedly drinking my blood, and forcing me to bend to your will that I’ll eventually cave and help you?’

He stopped and lifted his blood stained lips away from my neck. ‘One way or another I will get answers, Elena. And if not, then I still get to enjoy tasting your warmth … in more ways than one.’ To emphasise he pressed himself against me suggestively.

I ignored his sexual innuendo and went on. ‘I know you’re not just hoping to self-heal. I know you’re trying to figure out how your first generation of offspring can copulate without sending out dud swimmers.’

He tightened his grip on my flesh. ‘How do you know about that?’

What, were all vân
â
tors idiots?

‘Um, you locked me up with a pregnant girl. I’m not stupid, you know.’

He grunted but didn’t say anything.

‘So it
is
true?’ I said in wonderment. ‘Only the original vânâtors can breed?’ I started to smile. ‘I can’t believe you just confirmed the most vital piece of information to the survival of your species.’ I laughed heartily.

‘That’s enough!’ John roared as he turned me around, bringing his hand up and slapping me hard in the side of the face. The blow sent me sprawling onto the grass, the impact flinging me several metres from where I had been standing.

Pain lanced through my cheek like red hot fire branding my skin.

Yeah, because hitting me will make you less of a moron.

Whatever helps you sleep at night, Fido.

A few moments later the swelling in my face subsided completely and I rolled to my knees, and pushed myself back up off the ground, my hands shaking. He paced the ground in front of me, his hands now folded behind his back in thought. I had definitely rattled him. ‘Greg, where’s Adam? They’ll be here soon and we need as many claws as we can get.’

Greg howled something to him, a couple of short barks and grunts that I wouldn’t be able to understand unless I was Doctor Doolittle.

‘Okay, so he shouldn’t be far away then,’ John answered, continuing to pace.

I groaned. ‘I already told you he’s not coming.’ I dusted grass off of my knees and watched John’s face carefully. ‘I hope that the success of your plans didn’t hinge on him being here.’

All the wolves were staring at me now, watching my every move.

‘Do not worry, my children,’ John said, more quietly now. ‘Adam shall be with us shortly. The bitch is only trying to sow doubt in our minds and rob us of victory.’

The wolves’ short howls of agreement rent the air. They turned and snarled at me. I couldn’t help myself—I began to giggle. Abruptly, they quietened, watching me again with unadulterated ire.

John stepped closer to me and grabbed me roughly by the arm. He pulled me close, enveloping me with another fresh wave of his essence. Earth, sweat and raw masculinity invaded my nose, wrapping a rapidly tightening cord of power around my body. ‘Where is he?’ John growled at me, his hot breath blowing across my lips.

I frowned. ‘How many times do I have to tell you before you listen? The guy is dead.
D.E.A.D
, dead.’

John didn’t even have time to react, because the snarl that ripped from Greg’s throat tore through the night air, just as I imagined his teeth were about to do to my throat.

He broke rank and charged at me, his teeth snapping, his powerful legs striding quickly towards where John and I stood.

John was still hanging onto my arm angrily, his fist balled tightly in my face in a gesture of what was to come. I waited for the fist to hit me and Greg to pounce. I had no ability to move on my own accord.

I watched helplessly as Greg leapt high into the air, his body gliding across the night wind as if he were no heavier than a kite in the sky on a hot summer’s day. His razor sharp fangs were visible and ready to rend flesh.

*          *          *

‘
Hevannatara!
’ someone screamed from across the clearing, a blue bolt of light shooting through the black and blasting Greg straight in the side of his stomach. He froze, dropping to the ground like a lead balloon, his legs in midstride and his muzzle reared. His fangs were revealed, fangs which only moments before had been set to rip out my jugular.

John dropped his fist and spun around to stare at the cavalry arriving just across the clearing.

A giddy happiness spun through me, and as I tilted my head to the side to see George standing across the field, his hand held out in front of him, Susan and Lucas flanking him on either side, I couldn’t help but feel relieved.

My family are here! And Lucas … thank God he’s alive!

Jumping down from the tops of the trees and landing in front of them was William and Thomas. Their fangs were exposed, their skin translucent, and their long, dark talons unsheathed and ready for battle. As they landed, both settled into a lethal crouch and set their black luminous eyes on the wolves. I had never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life than I was right now.

John spun me around so that I was standing in front of him. He wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, pulling me up hard against his body. My hormones went wild, but my stomach turned in revulsion.

The wolves began to snarl and move forward through the grass, stalking towards my family and the vampires, one who crazily claimed that he loved me. Maybe I was the one that had it wrong? Maybe they all
did
love me and
I
was the idiot that kept shutting everyone out.

Puzzling.

I’d have to give that some more thought when I didn’t have a naked werewolf wrapped around my bits.

‘Kill them all,’ John commanded.

His wolves broke off from formation and padded across the field to engage my family.

As the wolves came on, they howled in unison.

Through the trees I could see the other Protectors making their way out onto the field. Malcolm, Peter, Martha, Sarah, Kim and Vincent were all there, including the two younger girls, Karina and Lisa. They all came and stood with my family, their hands held up in front of them in preparation.

Every single one of them narrowed their gazes at me, including William. He turned to look at me first, his black eyes zeroing in on mine. A horrifying snarl ripped up from the back of his throat as he looked at John holding me possessively against his body. His eyes noted the lack of rejection from me. It must have looked pretty bad. Either that or I looked damn awful dressed in my raggedy, bloodied up clothes and matted hair.

‘Be careful, my children,’ John said, pulling me backwards. ‘They have brought the magical ones with them. The fight will not be as easy as we first thought.’

‘You got that right,’ I answered. ‘You’re in deep shit now.’

John growled in my ear and tightened his grip on me.

The Vânâtors started to spread out, stalking around the sides of The Protectors, circling them and readying themselves for attack. One of the wolves threw his head back and howled angrily at the moon, signalling the commencement of their attack.

They were incredibly fast, their bodies’ blurred motion as they darted across the field towards my friends, changing direction constantly to evade the immanent attacks.

I saw several of the older Protectors—Malcolm, George and Peter—casting the Light of Mellar and throwing it at the Vânâtors. Coloured lights danced across the field and hit two Vânâtors square in the face. They stumbled around haphazardly, unable to see, blinded and temporarily neutralised. While the other Protectors turned their attentions to the other advancing werewolves, William and Thomas seized the opportunity for an easy kill.

They sprang lithely into the air, landing in front of the two stumbling wolves.

William lashed out and punched the first vânâtor hard in the mouth, sending the wolf flying backwards through the air and hitting the ground hard behind him. The impact sent chunks of earth high up into the air, and then raining to the ground in a torrential downpour of dirt, stones and leaves, that covered William’s skin with flecks of moist soil.

Before the dust had even settled, William was launching himself through the air. He landed directly on top of the fallen vânâtor, his feet crushing the bones of the wolf’s hind legs, preventing all movement but crawling on forepaws. The wolf whimpered loudly, his claws scratching helplessly at the dirt and grass.

William repositioned himself, fangs lengthening as he snapped the wolf’s muzzle together using both hands, wrapping his fingers tightly around its length and temporarily silencing the howls of pain. He yanked the wolf’s head to the side and hungrily sunk his fangs deep into the wolf’s neck, tearing at the flesh and letting the blood flow thick and fast.

I licked my lips and watched eagerly as the Vânâtor thrashed wildly beneath William. He kept his teeth buried firmly in the fleshy folds of the wolf’s neck, tearing and ripping until it no longer moved. When his head came back up again his mouth was covered in blood, some of the arterial spray spread in an arc across his cheek.

He spat some of the blood out onto the ground, almost as if it disgusted him, though I knew from the pulsing just under his semi-translucent skin that he had enjoyed it. The kill was part of his nature, and blood lust was more a part of him than his repugnance for the Vânâtors.

Thomas had taken a very different approach to the other blind wolf that was still staggering around the field, trying to use his sense of smell to locate his enemies. He was dancing around the wolf as if playing a very amusing game, taking swipes at the Vânâtor’s throat with his clawed fingers and spilling blood out and onto the grass. The continued swipes were blanketing the clearing in arterial red. The wolf howled in pain as every hit raked through its flesh and it wasn’t long before the wolf stumbled to the ground in defeat, howling to his alpha for help.

John prided himself on showing no mercy—so did Thomas.

He raised his clawed fingers into the air and then sliced down through the jugular with one, quick movement, ending the fight.

‘
Hevannatara!
’ I heard Lucas shout out across the clearing, hitting one of the other two wolves as they began to swiftly circle.

My heart began to beat faster, thumping in time to the dancing nerves that seemed to be the cause of nausea in my stomach. Lucas was a good Protector, but that didn’t mean I’d ever get used to seeing him in danger.

Thankfully, the wolf froze the moment Lucas’s spell hit, the blue flames still licking the tips of his fingers as he stood back to allow the final blow. Vincent darted forward, swinging a sword above his head and promptly slicing the Vânâtor’s head from its body.

The wolf dropped to the ground in a heap—now just flesh, bones, blood and severed body parts. In an uncharacteristic display, the remaining vânâtor edged away from them slowly, the realisation dawning on him—he was severely outnumbered and my rescuers were more than eager for his death.

I watched now as William played with him, running quicker than thought backwards and forwards in front of him to stop the wolf from approaching my brother, who was lingering dangerously close to the Vânâtor. The other Protectors were seemingly unconcerned about whether or not William was caught in the crossfire. They began casting spells in retaliation, light flickering across the dark clearing. They all seemed to miss their mark, both William and the Vânâtor cunningly ducking and weaving between each spell. The magic that did come their way eventually fizzled into nothingness, leaving behind only the acrid smell of smoke.

The Vânâtor’s black eyes were wary, taking in his foes and testing William’s defences, but also keeping an eye on Thomas who was edging ever nearer. William was the bigger threat, however, as he was slowly weakening the wolf each time he passed, his talons slicing to the bone.