The Wolf Prince (26 page)

The scent of sweet night flowers perfumed the air. Karinthia began to relax. Magic was all around her. Her pulse quickened in response. This was where she was most comfortable, surrounded by the elements. Where she felt closest to the gods and goddesses that once walked among the people.

There was a rustle through the leaves. Karinthia turned, then
smiled. Her sister Ciara wore her red robes. She moved to her place. Her sister Mischa, wearing black robes, came with her. Their mother took her place at the head of the circle wearing her white robes.

Jadar began to chant the prayer of strength and guidance. Then, one by one, she removed five small stones from the pocket of her robe, invoking the spirit of the goddess to join them this night as she placed them on the slab.

When all was made ready, her brothers and father carried Surlock into the circle, placing the jewel-encrusted litter on the stone slab. They didn’t look at the women as they moved to the outside of the circle, then to the edge of the woods, offering protection if needed.

Symtarian men were fierce warriors and had courage beyond compare. Some even had powers of their own, but it was the women who were gifted with magic. The men knew when they were not needed. Instead, they would stand guard on the fringes, one man at each point, so the women would not be interrupted.

Jadar raised a golden chalice. “To the goddess of light, I ask that you bring my son, your prince, out of the darkness and back to us.” She lowered the chalice, then set it on the slab. Next she took a knife of silver and made a cut above her wrist. She didn’t flinch. This was her son. Her blood ran into the chalice; then she bound her wound tight before taking her place in the north.

Karinthia stepped forward. For a moment, she could only stare at her brother. Was he alive? Were they too late to save him?

“He still breathes, daughter,” her mother’s voice whispered as if she’d read her eldest daughter’s pain.

Karinthia drew in a ragged breath and raised the chalice. “To the goddess of rain, I pray you will wash his soul clean of his pain and let him live again.” She took the knife and made a cut above her wrist, letting her blood flow into the vessel. She set the chalice and the knife down, bound her wound tight, then took her place in the south.

Ciara moved next to the slab. Karinthia saw tears shimmering in her sister’s eyes, the only visible sign that she was shaken to see her brother like this. She raised the chalice.

“To the gods of fire, I pray you will warm his blood with life.” She then made a cut above her wrist and let her blood flow into the chalice. She also bound her wound tight, then took her place in the west.

Mischa, the youngest of the daughters, moved to take her place. She raised the chalice with hands that trembled, but her voice was strong and sure. “To the gods of wind, I ask that you breathe life back into my brother.” She, too, made a cut above her wrist and let her blood flow into the chalice. After she bound her wound tight, she carried the chalice to her mother, then took her place in the east.

Their mother raised the chalice high. “I give the goddess the blood of her children and call on the powers of light, wind, rain and fire to descend from the four corners of the universe and save Surlock, Prince of New Symtaria.”

Glittery light swirled around the stones like a snake, then lit the slab as though the sun had come out from behind the clouds. Next came fire. Flames licked at the stones. Fire engulfed the slab, but before it could burn, gentle rain quieted the heat and it became a warm glow. As wind joined them, it brought the fragrance of life and all things living.

“Thank you, goddess, for your power so that my son can be healed if it be your will.” She took the chalice, raised it high once more, then poured the blood down the center of Surlock’s chest. “With this blood we, the children of the goddess, the keepers of the magic, ask that you return Surlock to the realm of the living.”

Lightning streaked across the night sky, followed by thunder so loud it made the ground shake.

A voice filled the air. “You have always served me well, Jadar, and you have taught your daughters to do the same. I give your son back to you.”

“Surlock,” Darcy cried. “Don’t leave me.”

Something was drawing Surlock out of the cold gray darkness that swirled around him. He fought against the pull. He wanted to stay deep in the shadows that protected him from pain, but the force bringing him back was too strong.

He sat up, crying out with a roar that echoed through the woods. His head whipped to the side. Where was she? Where was Darcy? Who dared to rip her from his arms!

Torches lit the area. He lay on a stone slab. He saw his mother and three sisters, and he knew them. Memories returned in rapid succession. His life, and who he was, playing out as though watching one of Darcy’s movies. Anger and pain ripped through him as he realized how much he’d lost.

“Chinktah, I am back!” he told his animal guide. “And vengeance will be mine!”

His mother blew across her open palm. Silvery dust sprinkled over him.

“No!” Surlock knew what she had done as his body grew weak.

“You must sleep now. Let your mind and body heal. It is for the best.”

But it wasn’t for the best. He wanted to destroy those who had harmed Darcy.

Ah, no, not Darcy. Not his love, his life.

Darkness closed over him, but this time it was different because Darcy wasn’t there, and the pain was unbearable.

S
urlock slowly came awake. He was in his old room at his parents’ castle. For a moment, he lay there, looking at the canopy above him. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to feel.

His stomach growled, reminding him it had been a while since he’d taken nourishment. Hunger pangs gnawed at his insides—along with guilt. How could he think about eating when Darcy was gone?

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there for a moment. Pain gripped him. By the gods, he couldn’t bear the pain. He finally stood, going to the closet. He grabbed the first thing he came to and dressed. A bathroom connected to his old room. He used the facility, then stared at his reflection above the sink, noting how haggard he looked. Then, for a brief moment, he saw the eyes of the wolf.

It is good that you have returned,
Chinktah, his animal guide, told him.
I had thought you would be lost forever.

You tried to reach me through the humming in my ears and my dreams. I see that now,
Surlock said.

But as usual, you were too stubborn to listen.

Forgive me, Chinktah.

We are a part of each other. I can do no less.

Surlock left his room, going down the stairs, and with each step he took, anger forced his depression aside. He would make Nivla pay for what he’d done to Darcy.

Muted voices grew louder as he approached the main area. He walked inside the room, saw his family gathered, saw the worry etched on their faces. His brother Kristor’s lifemate, Rianna, looked at him, eyes filled with pity before her gaze skittered away. Callie ran her hand over her stomach, which was swollen with his brother Rogar’s child. Conversation stopped when the others saw him.

“You have connected with your animal guide?” his mother asked.

“Yes, and I have my memories back.” He saw the bandages on his mother and sisters’ arms and knew they had cast a healing circle. “Thank you for what you have given me.”

“I’m glad that you are back, brother,” Karinthia said.

His gaze fell on his older sister. “It’s good to know who I am and where I come from.”

“You are well, son?” Surlock’s father looked toward his wife, who nodded her head. He strode to Surlock and hugged him tight. “I worried about my youngest son. It would have grieved me greatly if you had not returned to us.”

An ache grew deep inside him. Surlock knew his pain would never heal. But he could understand why his family had not wanted to suffer the same. His father stepped back, clearing his throat.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Surlock told Kristor and Rogar.

“You would have done the same,” Rogar said.

Kristor nodded in agreement.

Surlock knew they were right. No risk would have been too great. “But now we have another problem. Zerod is free again. We must capture him or more impures will be killed. I won’t let that happen to another one.”

“Are you strong enough to travel?” Rogar asked.

“I am.”

Karinthia stepped forward. “I’m going this time.” She looked at her brothers. “I can use my magic if need be.”

Their mother nodded. “Yes, it’s your time. I have seen it coming. We must do more to protect our people, and the impures are our people, too.”

“Then are we ready?” Surlock asked.

“Yes,” his siblings answered as one.

Leaving took longer than Surlock expected. He wanted to wrap his hands around Nivla’s throat. Surlock knew he couldn’t kill him, but Nivla didn’t know Surlock wouldn’t break his father’s law. He would make Nivla suffer for the rest of his life, though.

By early morning, they were on their way back to Earth. His brothers and Karinthia talked and planned. Surlock listened. He knew what he had to do first.

“We’ll be landing near where your craft is,” Kristor said.

Surlock nodded. “Excoria pretended to be Darcy. That’s how they captured me. She may still be in the area. I will pick up her scent and see what I can find, but I have to take care of something first.”

“You will find Darcy’s essence there.” Kristor spoke solemnly.

Surlock was surprised to see the bleakness in his brother’s eyes.

“I could not live without my mate. I can only imagine the pain you’re going through, and it hurts me. It hurts us all. You must find peace within yourself.” He handed Surlock a small device. “When you need us, push the button, and we will find you.”

Surlock nodded, unable to speak. Kristor was a strong warrior, but since he’d found his lifemate, a softer side had come through.

They landed. When Surlock stepped from the craft, what he had lost hit him with full force, almost taking him to his knees. Karinthia grabbed his arm to steady him.

“I’ll be all right,” he told his sister. “I have to face this alone.”

She nodded and stepped away.

Surlock walked through the woods, making his way back to the trail where Darcy had hit him over the head. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes. He could almost smell her scent.

A hawk cried overhead.

Surlock looked up and saw that Kristor had shifted into his animal guide. He would find the warehouse Nivla had told him about. He doubted the female rogue would be there, but they would check it out just the same.

Surlock walked up the trail that led to the house. The last time he’d walked it, he and Darcy had mated in the meadow. He hadn’t lost the time afterward; Chinktah had been able to emerge for a short period.

As he approached the house, he wondered what Ms. Abernathy had thought when they hadn’t returned from the party. He didn’t want to tell everyone Darcy was dead. But how could he not tell them?

He took a deep breath and stepped to the back door, lightly knocking.

There was a clicking noise behind him.

Surlock turned and stared at the weapon Ralph held.

“Make one wrong move and I blow your brains out,” Ralph said, and from his expression, Surlock thought he might do just that.

“I offer you no harm,” Surlock told Ralph. “I came to speak about Darcy.”

“Yeah, and you’d better tell us where she is, too.”

The door behind him opened, but he dared not take his eyes off Ralph.

“Is this the man who kidnapped Darcy?” a man behind Surlock asked.

“That’s him all right,” Ralph said.

“I didn’t kidnap Darcy,” Surlock told them. Now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to tell them she was dead, either. He only hoped Ralph didn’t suddenly develop a nervous twitch.

The man stepped from behind Surlock. He had dark hair threaded with streaks of gray. His face was aged and lined with worry.

“Just tell me where my daughter is and we’ll pay the ransom.”

“Ransom?”

“The note that came yesterday said you wanted two million dollars. We’re gathering it now. All we care about is our daughter, and if you’ve harmed her, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

The world stopped moving as the blood rushed to Surlock’s head. “Darcy is alive?” Hope sprang inside him. Hope and joy and a burst of love. The emotions hit him full force, almost toppling him. “She’s alive?” he asked again.

Ah, no, if this was a lie, then he would surely be doomed. He couldn’t bear the pain of losing her twice.

D
arcy glared at Excoria’s back. First chance she got, she was knocking this chick’s lights out. Not that she would get that chance any time soon. The bitch had tied the ropes pretty damned tight.

And if Excoria shot her with that tranquilizer gun one more time, she’d do more than knock her lights out. She’d cram the gun down her throat—then knock her lights out.

Even in her dazed state, Darcy recognized the estate next door to her parents’ place. The Bishops were still in France. She was so close to her parents, to her home and everything she loved, yet so far away.

No, that wasn’t quite true. She wasn’t close to Surlock. She had no idea where he was. From what she could gather from El Stupido, he was being used to trade for some high-up official who was imprisoned in Surlock’s country.

When Excoria suddenly turned around, Darcy quickly lowered her gaze and became the docile captive again.

“I’m going to call them.” Excoria reached for her cell phone.

“It’s too soon,” Darcy told her. “It will take time for my parents to gather that much money without raising suspicion.” She only hoped she could stall Excoria long enough for her parents to contact the FBI and get them involved. Excoria had been a
little smarter than Darcy had given her credit for and warned her parents she would kill Darcy if law enforcement of any kind was brought in.