Authors: Heather Killough-Walden
He couldn’t move out of the way this time. His lungs were both trying to heal and the agony was immense. His body wouldn’t respond fast enough.
But it didn’t need to. Phelan brought his arm back – and it was caught in a pair of strong hands. Lucas blinked, wondering whether he might be imagining what he was seeing. But Malcolm Cole’s deep British accent sliced through the space between them, confirming his very real existence.
“I think we’ve had just about enough of you,” Cole said before he yanked Phelan back and shoved his fist forward at the same time. There was a loud crack and another blur and once more, Lucas could not make heads or tails of what was happening around him.
So, he shut his eyes. For the time being, though it didn’t make any sense that Cole was actually there, it seemed the heat had been taken off of Lucas and his body could heal. All around him were the sounds of struggle. The scent of werewolves assaulted his senses and he realized there must be more out there; at least one of them female. He could hear flesh hitting flesh and grunts of pain and anger, but he let them go – he let it all go – and concentrated on his own aching, throbbing, bleeding form.
The lungs repaired themselves next and his bones began to shift back into place. It was nauseating, it hurt so bad. Once they were in place, Lucas swallowed hard, amazed that he’d managed to keep down the bile that had spilled into his esophagus.
Little by little, his body became whole once more, and he found the strength to push himself up onto his arms. He was weak, though. He’d lost a lot of blood and couldn’t return it to his body. He lifted his head and opened his eyes. The world tilted just once and then settled down into its normal, level self. Malcolm Cole and Gabriel Phelan were fighting several yards away. Around them were the signs of their supernatural struggle. A few trees had been toppled, the ground was disrupted in chunks and gouges, and blood stained their clothes.
Lucas watched as Cole knocked Phelan up against yet another tree that cracked beneath the impact. He had the handle of a dagger in his fist; Lucas could smell his own blood coming off of the blade and knew it was the one that Phelan had shoved into his side. But Cole curled his hand around it – and then shoved his fist into Phelan’s neck, keeping the blade well away from Gabriel’s flesh. “That one is for Charlie,” he hissed as he pulled his fist back and prepared to strike again. Phelan’s teeth gritted, his eyes squeezed shut, and his body went rigid. Cole had crushed his windpipe and broken his neck. “And this is for everyone else.” With that, Cole blurred, shifted the dagger in his right hand, and plunged it forward.
He didn’t bother with his neck, however, or even his heart. Cole’s aim was cruel and perfect and he had obviously been harboring a vicious amount of anger toward Phelan, because the blade entered Phelan’s left eye and kept going, piercing the back of his skull and sticking him to the tree trunk behind him.
Cole stepped back. Phelan spasmed once and went still, a heavy dead specimen held aloft only by the strength of the bone in his head. Cole watched his opponent die, and then he turned to face Lucas, who was now standing once more, weak but healed. Lucas looked on as the green glow in his friend’s eyes died down into a cloudy jade.
“You okay?” he asked Malcolm.
Cole didn’t answer for a moment. Finally, with a slight glance backward toward the werewolf behind him, he nodded. Lucas caught movement in his peripheral vision and glanced over to see Lily and Daniel Kane making her way across the street. Daniel had his hand firmly wrapped around Lily’s arm and Lucas almost smiled. No doubt, she had wanted to join in the fray and he’d had to try very hard to keep her out of it.
Lucas nodded at Daniel and the cop nodded back. There was more movement behind Lucas and he turned in time to see three enforcers draw closer across the small clearing. They nodded at him and he nodded back.
“How did you find me?” Lucas asked, turning back to face Cole.
“Lily had a vision so we tried to call you,” he replied. “Your phone was dead.”
Lucas glanced at Lily Kane, who finally ripped free from her husband’s grasp and ran toward both him and Cole. “Are you okay?” she asked, turning from one alpha werewolf to the other. It was just too cute.
“I’m fine,” Cole replied. “But he’s weak. He’ll need blood.”
“You look like you could use some too,” Lily told him, her gaze traveling over the mess of his clothes with wary observation.
Cole apparently couldn’t let that go. “You offering, luv?” he asked. Lucas tensed. Daniel Kane was less than ten feet away.
He’s either insane or very brave
, Lucas thought. Probably it was a little bit of both. After all, he’d just killed Gabriel Phelan and the blood lust was no doubt still riding his body hard. He had yet to force his wolf to heel.
For her part, Lily had blanched a little, but the gold fire sparked to life in her eyes and she narrowed her gaze. “In your dreams, Cole.”
“It’s Malcolm, sweetheart. Will you never learn?”
“Enough,” Daniel said between gritted teeth. He stepped between them, turning his back to Cole in order to give his wife a warning look. Lucas was impressed. The alpha werewolf looked bored and impatient, if anything. Maybe the cop in him was clicking into place. Or maybe he’d just gotten used to this kind of shit from his wife and Malcolm Cole. The past often had a hard time laying down to die.
“You’ll drink from us,” said one of the enforcers. He was huge, as was normal for an enforcer, and he looked as though he wasn’t going to accept any arguments from anyone in the clearing. Lucas had no idea who he was and he didn’t care. Alberich had taken Danny, and Lucas needed blood. He leaned against a nearby tree as the enforcer rolled up his sleeve and approached him. His partner approached Cole and shrugged off his sports coat so that the alpha could drink from his as well.
Lucas hoped to God that no humans were looking in on the scene because if they were, rumors of vampires were going to spread through the community of Oregon like a tidal wave.
Chapter Sixteen:
“The Turn”
“I want you to.”
The words had barely been spoken before Jason’s hand slid to the nape of her neck and grasped the hair there. Danny hissed as he yanked her head back, exposing her throat. He smiled down at her. His lips were a mere hair’s breadth from her own. “Fight me, Danny. Give me an excuse to tie you to my bed.”
He claimed her lips with his own and Danny’s breath was sucked from her lungs. His grip on her hair tightened and his other arm slid around her waist to pull her hard up against his chest. At once, she was overwhelmed by him. Her mind screamed for her to use her magic, but her body was no longer under her control. Jason’s warlock power subjugated it, taking it prisoner.
His lips parted her own and his tongue delved deep. He tasted like ice that burned her tongue. Like alcohol. And she was getting drunk. Heat was spreading across her neck, her chest, and lower. Need awoke and uncoiled deep within, responding to his dark ministrations with perfect precision.
No,
she thought.
This isn’t happening.
But it was.
Until it wasn’t, because Jason was suddenly yanked away from her and thrown across the stone chamber. Danny’s eyes flew open in time to follow his black clad form where it hit the opposite wall amidst a low, reverberating growl and a flash of light. She blinked and stumbled, falling onto the bed behind her as a massive black wolf with red glowing eyes slowly stalked the warlock.
Jason got to his feet and stared at the wolf, disbelieving. His broad chest rose and fell with quick, angry breaths and his head lowered in a wrathful glare. He speared the oncoming wolf with green eyes that began to glow, calling to mind the sun on an iceberg. “Caige,” he hissed at last. “Using the seer’s necklace. It’s the only thing that could have made it past my wards. Smart wolf.”
Danny frowned. Lucas was using Lily’s necklace – the one that Danny had made for her months ago? It carried with it Danny’s own magic and was linked to her. That was how Lucas had made it past the shielded walls and found his way to her. The necklace had simply known where to go.
Just in time
, she thought guiltily and with more than a touch of terror. She’d almost given in to Jason. She’d almost lost herself in all that he was. She gripped the soft velvet sheets beneath her fingers and looked down. Black bed clothes. She swallowed hard. The darkness, however delicious, was still darkness.
Across the room, the wolf sprang toward Jason and Jason evaded his giant form, dropping and rolling and coming to his feet once more. A ball of fire erupted in the space between them and shot toward the wolf, but Lucas was too fast in his wolfen form and easily dodged the oncoming blaze.
Again and again this happened and the air in the chamber began to heat up with magic and a slight dip in oxygen. Finally, Lucas’s stance changed. He crouched low and Danny tensed. The attack came fast – a blur of midnight colored fur. But Jason knew well that it had been coming. A column of fire erupted around his boots and shot toward the ceiling, engulfing him in its crackling, roaring flames. It was only there for a second – split and gone.
When the flames evaporated, the space where Jason had stood was empty.
Lucas landed on the other side of the empty space and spun, flashing back into his human form. His eyes still glowed red. He looked like a demon standing there, dressed in black leather and dried blood, his fangs pronounced, sharp and deadly, his eyes burning like the fires of hell. Danny found herself involuntarily scooting back on the bed.
Lucas caught the movement and his eyes were instantly on her, scorching her to the mattress upon which she sat. He seemed to gaze at her forever like that, burning her up inside and out. And then he raised his head, just a touch, and asked, “Did he hurt you?” His voice was harsh and grated, roughened by the wolf he no doubt barely held in check.
Danny quickly shook her head. “I’m okay,” she assured him.
Sort of.
“No you’re not,” he told her simply. He took a step toward her and once more, the sound of a stalking boot echoed in the warlock’s chamber. Danny’s breath hitched. “You’re vulnerable,” he said. “You’re prey.”
“W-what?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little angry.
Prey?
Her? She was the Healer! She was magic incarnate! Imani had even told her so!
“You can’t fight fire with fire, little witch,” Lucas told her, lowering his head to sear her with his smoldering gaze once more. Another step. “Jason Alberich has known you your entire life. He knows how you think. He knows every power you possess. He’s been watching your every move for two decades.” Two more slow, calculated steps. “You can’t defend yourself against him, Danny,” he assured her with a small shake of his handsome head. “Not yet.”
A chord of hard, scary anticipation thrummed through Danny, roaring in her ears. She felt heavy suddenly, and a little numb. She could have asked him what he meant. She could have feigned innocence. But she knew all too well what he was talking about. She might not be able to fight Jason’s magic with her own. But she might have a better chance at defending herself… as a wolf.
And once she was turned, Jason might back off. She doubted it, but stranger things had happened.
Lucas took another step and closed the distance between them. He stood beside the bed, his towering, terrifying form staring down at her with relentless determination. Danny couldn’t move when he slowly bent over the bed, a predator caging her in, and placed his hands on either side of her against the mattress.
She could hear her own ragged breaths now; there was no controlling them. She knew what was coming and she wanted it. It scared the hell out of her and it thrilled her and there was nothing else in the world in that moment but Lucas Caige and the thought of what he was about to do to her. Do
with
her.
His knee came up next, taking his weight. He was moving over her, a cat prowling across the bed. She moved back; an instinctive reflex that wound up centering her in the bed with Lucas right above her, a wolf fresh from the fight – eyes on fire.
She could barely believe this was happening. Here? In this room?
But of course here. Because as far as the wolf in Lucas was concerned, it sent the ultimate message. He was taking his mate in his enemy’s bed. There could be no stronger meaning than that.
“I’ll let you have one last chance, witch,” he told her, speaking expertly around fangs that promised wicked pain – and pleasure. “Kill me now,” he said, repeating what he had told her when he’d marked her. “Because if you don’t, I’m gonna to do bad things to you.”
But it was obvious that he never intended to give her one last chance. Not at all. Instead, he supported his weight on one hand, the muscles in his arms flexing in a way that hypnotized Danny. He cupped her chin with the other hand and lowered his lips to an inch above her own. “You’re mine, Danny. You always will be.”
He imprisoned her with his gaze, holding her fast beneath him as if he’d wrapped her in chains. She couldn’t look away. “I know,” she whispered back.
And then he was very gently, very softly kissing her and Danny felt his fangs against her lips. He was tender, and his teeth belied that tenderness. It was one of the most intensely erotic dichotomies she had ever experienced. He was an animal, a monster, her lover – he could have ripped her to shreds in seconds. He had killed men. Who knew how many? And he was trapping her here now, on this bed, and there was no escape for her. But he was gentle.
She felt herself go wet with her helplessness. The mark on her arm heated up, sending waves of anticipatory pleasure up her arm and across her chest. Her nipples hardened under the sensation, drawing a gasp from her that Lucas swallowed as he deepened the kiss, pressing in, taking more.
His hand left her chin, trailed down her throat, and squeezed gently before moving to the collar of her shirt. His fingers curled over the delicate collar. He broke the kiss, pulling away to capture her gaze in his once more. A beat passed between them. She held her breath.