Forged by Fire: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Blood and Magic Book 6)

by Danielle Annett

  I’d seen the tell-tale glint of silver and gold in the eyes of every fighter as they climbed into their vehicles and we rode out. Battle fury was riding high and the fight on our end hadn’t even begun.

  We didn’t know who our foe was but when we were through with them, they were going to wish they’d never made the mistake of attacking our people.

  Bloodlust rode the men inside the SUV with me. It was a tangible thing. Thick within the confines of the Hummer. Declan drove while I sat passenger, and Robert and Jamal—a rat shifter from Clan Muridea—rode in the back.

  Despite our accelerated speed, the traffic kept us to little over seventy miles per hour.

  It wasn’t fast enough. Not when you considered how much could happen in battle within minutes. I just prayed there was someone left to save when we arrived. There had to be.

  These were shapeshifters. Tough as nails wolves and with at least one of their Alpha’s on the premises. They wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  Declan’s eyes narrowed on the road in front of us with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Mile markers flew past us. We had to be getting close.

  With a jerk to the left, he took the Coeur D’Alene exit and we flew down the street, making sharp turns at too fast speeds. I gripped the handle on the door to keep myself upright, the two men in the back seemingly unfazed.

  Clan Wolf came into view, a lone three-story building nestled within a copse of trees on an empty street and surrounded by rolling hills.

  That wasn’t the only thing surrounding it. Two heavy artillery vehicles came into view. Around them were one, two… eleven men. Each one sporting at least one rifle in their hands, a few with secondary weapons strapped to their legs or backs, and at least two that I could see held semi-automatics.

  The sound of gunfire was loud even inside the Hummer. The tell-tale thud as each bullet collided with something solid.

  Where the hell had they gotten so many guns? And the ammunition?

  Bullets were damn near impossible to come by after the Awakening and here these assholes had a small artillery.

  This wasn’t some random attack. No, this was a coordinated strike. But why?

  Declan slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the Hummer with a harsh order to stay put.

  Fat chance of that happening.

  As soon as he turned away, I slipped outside. Doors slammed behind me as the road crowded with vehicles, effectively cutting off any possible attempts at escape.

  None of these men would leave here alive.

  With the attackers still unaware of our arrival, I watched as Declan and the others shifted into their beast and between forms as they vaulted themselves towards the attackers.

  Sharp screams filled the air and cut off quickly, four of the attackers brought down before the others realized what was happening and turned their weapons to face their newly arrived enemy.

  But it was already too late.

  Declan had shifted into a Siberian tiger. His snow-white fur gleamed in the sunlight, the thick black stripes standing out in harsh relief, but his maw was covered in blood as he tore into the throat of a man.

  Robert was beside him in his between form as his coyote’s teeth and claws ripped the man limb from limb. Between the two of them, what was left behind was little more than a pile of body parts and misshapen pieces of flesh.

  I tried not the cringe. These men deserved a bloody death.

  All around me, claws and teeth rent flesh from bone, but not before a few lucky shots were fired off. Those that hit their mark took the shifters to their knees.

  Shit. These weren’t regular bullets they were firing. A sickening sense of dread filled me.

  They were using silver bullets. This must be why Clan Wolf was still pinned down inside the Clan House. A quick glance towards the porch showed several bodies just outside the door, riddled with bullets and unmoving.

  These bastards picked them off one by one as they exited the door.

  Fire rushed out of me, covering my forearms as fury and indignation consumed me and I stalked into the fray. When an assailant across from me lifted the muzzle of his rifle toward Declan, whose back was turned, I didn’t even think.

  I wrenched the weapon free from his grip using telekinesis, jerking it high into the air before snapping the weapon in two and letting the pieces crash back to the ground.

  Stunned, the man turned, searching for the source. When his wide eyes suddenly landed on me, panic filled them. That’s right. I’m not like them.

  My smile was slow and cruel and my once-slow steps turned into a full-on run as I barreled towards him. He reached for the gun strapped to his thigh but before he could bring it up, I slammed a bolt of fire toward him and watched in satisfaction as it buried itself in the center of his chest.

  His eyes widened and his pain laced scream filled the air before he collapsed to the ground, a baseball-sized hole in his torso, showing the ground beneath him. It didn’t even bleed. The heat of the flames had scorched the skin, sealing the wound as death took hold.

  With him down I turned, looking for someone else to strike, but the shifters had already disarmed our attackers.

  The fight ending mere minutes after our arrival.

  My breaths were labored and before I knew it Declan was beside me, naked and covered in blood, having shifted back into his human skin. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and leaned down to nuzzle my hair.

  “You can put the fire out now,” he said in a gravelly voice, his beast still riding him.

  I sucked in a lungful of air and with a concentrated effort called my fire back beneath the surface of my skin. It was still there, lying in wait, but I was no longer at risk of burning my mate.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when Declan engulfed me in his arms, his touch gentle despite the harsh tone of his words. “You were supposed to wait in the car.”

  I snorted. He had to have known I’d never follow that order. If he’d wanted me to stay out of the fight then he should have left me back at the Compound.

  Not that it would have done him much good, aside from pissing me off.

  I would have followed him out here anyway.

  “I’m not one of our vulnerable,” I reminded him.

  He growled low and deep, his chest vibrating up against my own.

  “Maybe you could snarl at me some more. I don’t think I’ve been sufficiently cowed.”

  “Dammit. Why don’t you ever do what I ask?”

  Was he serious? I pulled away to stare up at him.

  “Maybe because you don’t ask. You order. In that growly ‘I am Alpha, you must obey me’ voice. I am your mate. I’m supposed to be your partner. I am not a child and I am not your subordinate. Stop treating me like one.”

  His jaw tightened but surprising the hell out of me, he nodded.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Well, that had been too easy.

  Before I could thank him for finally seeing reason, a shifter jogged up and handed Declan a pair of sweats to cover his nudity. Not that he seemed to care. Nudity had never been an issue for shapeshifters and it certainly wasn’t one now.

  Already the shifters were dragging the bodies of our attackers into a pile and tending to those of ours who were wounded.

  I counted nine bodies before Jamal dragged a bloodied soldier towards us. Robert had another and soon the two men were shoved to the ground, forced to kneel in front of a blood-covered, and shirtless Declan. But before Declan or I could say anything, the front door to Clan Wolf slammed open and Derek Keen—Alpha of Clan Wolf—stepped outside.

  He spotted the two men on the ground and launched himself at the nearest one. His fist slammed into the man’s face, splitting the skin across his jaw. Again and again, he pummeled into him.

  Declan and the others stood by in silence, letting Derek release his pent up rage. The other man fell back and scrambled to put some distance between him and his fallen friend but the shapeshifter
s surrounding him wouldn’t allow it.

  The circle tightened, forcing him to watch as Derek beat his comrade senseless.

  “Where’s Teagan?” Robert asked.

  “Inside with the pups,” Derek answered, not bothering to stop the beating. “These motherfuckers…” he trailed off and just kept punching.

  After what felt like forever, but in reality was little more than a minute, Robert pulled a blood-spattered Derek off of the man, who now lay unmoving, his face a molted shade of purple with eyes already showing signs of swelling shut.

  “We need answers,” Robert said when Derek looked like he was on the verge of launching himself at our captives again.

  “Mercy,” the man on the ground croaked, coughing and spitting out blood and what looked like a few teeth.

  Mercy? I don’t bother to hide my sneer. Did they show the shifters mercy? No. They didn’t. They attacked a home filled would children. I shook my head.

  What could possibly make him believe he’d be offered something he himself had denied Clan Wolf? He’d shown no mercy as he gunned down both man and woman. Adult and child.

  Clan Wolf had sustained casualties. Not the least of which looked to include a mother and daughter who’d been shot just outside the gates, the mother’s body wrapped protectively around the smaller body and riddled with so many bullet holes that her flesh resembled hamburger meat more than it did a human being.

  No, there would be no mercy here.

  “Derek—” Declan’s voice held a warning in it.

  Derek ran a hand through his hair and uttered a variety of expletives, some more creative than anything I could have come up with.

  Cock-sucking son of a hairless cat’s balls had a particular ring to it.

  “We were pinned down. These fuckers and their guns had us pinned down and every attempt to get out …” he shook his head. “I have thirteen kids in there, Declan. Clan Wolf demands justice.”

  “And you’ll have it,” Declan said.

  Derek wasn’t an Alpha for nothing. Despite the fury and grief riding him, he had enough coherent thought to recognize this had been a coordinated attack and we needed information.

  He nodded once in Declan’s direction and stormed back inside the house while Robert crouched in front of the man who only moments ago had been Derek’s punching bag, giving him a scorn-filled look before flicking his gaze towards the other.

  “So what do we have here?”

  Before the second man even opened his mouth to speak, he wet himself, a stain spreading out beneath him where he lay as he whimpered and asked for the same mercy his friend had requested just moments ago.

  Robert made a sound of disgust but then tilted his head to the side as though examining something of interest. I tried to see what had caught his attention and when I did, I sucked in a breath.

  Blood flow slowed, gashes slowly sealed, and the bluish-purple color to the man’s skin ever so slowly faded.

  What was happening?

  Declan crouched beside Robert and examined the slowly receding injuries. “How is this possible?”

  The injured man had lost consciousness either from his injuries or because his body was trying to conserve resources as it healed much like mine did.

  Could he be a psyker?

  No. I quickly shoved that idea aside. If he’d been a psyker, he would have used his abilities. No one stood by while they were pummeled to near death if they could help it.

  Robert poked at a particularly nasty cut and the man moaned. “He’s healing but he still feels the pain.” Leveling his gaze on the other man, he asked, “What is he?”

  He visibly swallowed but answered. “Human. Just human.”

  Robert’s nostrils flared. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about so I voiced the question on my mind. “How is he healing?”

  Robert stood but Declan stayed crouched, watching the healing occur right before our eyes. “He’s telling the truth. The man is human, but clearly he’s regenerating. I’d like to know how.”

  The other man’s lower lip trembled. “If I tell you everything,” he licked his lips, “everything I know. Will you let me go?”

  “No.” Declan left no room for argument. “You attacked my people. You won’t leave here alive, but you can have a slow death or a quick one. Give us the information we need and I’ll give you the death you ask for.”

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking up, resigned. “Alright. I’ll tell you everything.”

  13

  I didn’t know what I expected the man to tell us but it sure as hell hadn’t been this.

  He wasn’t lying when he’d said his friend was strictly human, but what he’d initially left out was that they—all of the men who’d attacked Clan Wolf—had ingested a particular type of blood, one known for its regenerative qualities. It was supposed to give them a leg up against the shifters, as though the guns filled with silver bullets hadn’t been enough.

  They’d been told the blood would help them heal quicker. And it did. But it couldn’t reverse death and the shifters hadn’t intended to leave behind any survivors.

  My blood ran cold at the revelation. Few races had the ability to heal. Let alone the ability to transfer their healing properties.

  Shifters could regenerate but mixing their blood with a human’s would result in becoming a shapeshifter—assuming the human survived the transition. Vampires could also regenerate but finding one willing to sacrifice their blood was damn near impossible. The H.A.C. had managed to get their hands on Irina, but she was dead now and the blood ingested had to be taken straight from the source to work.

  The men before us had been given vials of blood to drink, meaning vampire blood was out.

  It was too much of a coincidence. Because the only other blood I could think of with regenerative qualities was harpy blood, and the only harpy I knew, was missing.

  “Sonova—” I wanted to kill the men in front of me even more than I had before. “Where is she?”

  They’d provided their names. Ashton was the man Derek had beaten the hell out of and Gareth was the other. Gareth sputtered now, having flinched back from my outburst.

  “Where’s Melody?” I seethed.

  Declan lifted a single brow in question but didn’t interrupt, deciding instead to see where I was going with this.

  “I … I … I don’t know what you’re ta—”

  “The blood. You were given blood that heals. It wasn’t shifter blood and it wasn’t a vamp’s. That leaves harpy. Where is she?”

  Gareth shook his head and flicked a look toward his still unconscious friend. “I don’t know. We never saw where the blood came from. It was passed out before we left. We didn’t—”

  I turned toward Declan in question and he nodded. The man was telling the truth. It didn’t matter. I knew deep down in my bones the H.A.C. had her. I didn’t believe in coincidences. Melody was missing and now all of a sudden—

  Brock rushed over, an urgent look on his face. “Clan Bear was attacked.”

  Declan flicked a glance toward Robert, who nodded as some silent communication passed between them. He grabbed my elbow and ushered me to the Hummer, opening the back door for me before going around to the driver’s side, Brock climbing into the front passenger seat.

  “Tell me everything.” Declan barked as he pushed the Hummer into gear and headed toward the freeway.

  Where is he planning on going? Clan Bear was too far—it would take hours to get there and by then it would be too late for us to offer any sort of assistance.

  Declan’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and the weight of his gaze let me know he was thinking the same thing.

  “It was just called in. They’d been attacked just like Clan Wolf. A group of men, heavy artillery, the same regenerative ability visible in their survivors.”

  Declan swore. “Casualties?”

  I held my breath.

  “None. Six injured
but everyone survived. The Clan house was virtually empty. Caynen was already on his way to the Compound at the time of the attack. His Clan is the smallest within the Pack and most were traveling with him. Those who weren’t were outside of the building so when the bastards showed up, the bears hit them from behind. They left one man alive but after they questioned him, they finished it.”

  We both released a collective sigh. “Call a Clan meeting. We’ve left the situation with the H.A.C. to fester long enough. It’s time we took a more direct approach with our enemy.”

  I swallowed and resolve thrummed through me. Jason hadn’t been the only one working on borrowed time. The H.A.C. couldn’t be ignored, not after these attacks, and if I was right, they were responsible for taking Melody too.

  I was going to get her back.

  With enough time, Jason and Twitch would confirm the H.A.C.’s involvement. There was no sense in delaying.

  As expected, it didn’t take long to confirm that the H.A.C. was behind Melody’s abduction. Fury settled deep in my bones. What was my mother hoping to accomplish by taking her? Was this some ploy to get to me or was it just a way to strengthen her men?

  I stared down at the phone in my hands. Ryan had called several times but I didn’t know what to say to him. How did I explain that Mel’s disappearance was my fault? My mother could have taken any Harpy, but instead, she’d gone after the one I called friend?

  Coincidences. I didn’t like them.

  I threw my phone on the bed and stalked out the door. I needed to get some air. Having already dressed, I made my way through the winding hallways that led outside. The evening air was crisp. Pine needles coated the forest floor, softening my footsteps. I moved to my car and slid into the driver’s seat, uncaring of where I went only that I went somewhere.

  I didn’t know how to be idle when everything in me wanted to act, but I couldn’t be the impulsive merc anymore. I had responsibilities. People who counted on me.

  I’d just passed the Compound gates when memories flooded my vision.