The Last Warrior: Shifters Unbound Book 13

by Ashley Jennifer

  Ben’s hand on hers kept Rhianne from recoiling and dropping the sword. She held it firmly on the man who’d terrorized her with his arbitrary viciousness, had driven her mother into another man’s arms, who’d destroyed innocents because they annoyed him, and who’d come here to take Rhianne against her will. He’d wanted what Rhianne was so he could expand his own power and feed his ambition, and he’d been willing to kill all the Shifters, including their human mates and their cubs, to do it.

  Ivor screamed once more, his skin scorching and crumpling. His clothing was consumed by fire and then his skin and hair, his face last, mouth open in a keening cry.

  Rhianne, Ben, and the Shifter stepped back as one as Ivor’s body collapsed into ash, which floated down to the green, the storm’s calming wind stirring the ashes in silence.

  The three stared at Ivor’s remains, Rhianne barely aware of the Shifters drifting toward them, or the rain that began to fall.

  Ben groaned. He released Rhianne’s hand as he slid to the ground, all life going out of him.

  “That’s it for me,” he whispered. “I love you, Rhianne. Always, my mate.”

  He lay still and ceased to breathe, his heart under Rhianne’s frantic hands fluttering to a halt.

  * * *

  “Please try,” Rhianne begged.

  She clung to Ben’s hand as he lay on Liam’s big bed, where Tiger had carried him once the battle was over. Tiger had laid him down, pulled a sheet over Ben’s bare body, and then pointed at Zander.

  “Heal him,” Tiger ordered.

  “Not that simple, big guy.” Zander, who’d resumed his human shape, beads clicking in his hair, touched Ben’s lifeless face, his dark eyes filled with compassion. “I can’t reach him beyond a certain point. I’m sorry, Rhianne.”

  Everyone in this room was grieving, Rhianne realized past the haze of pain that filmed her vision. Tiger, Zander, Jaycee and Dimitri, the Shifters who’d arrived from North Carolina, and a few from Las Vegas and New Orleans.

  Shifters filled Liam’s house and spilled out around it, all of them now in human form, including Rhianne, she having thrown on sweats Carly had handed her, Carly’s eyes filled with tears.

  Tiger had allowed only a few besides Rhianne and the healers into the bedroom, and those denied camped out in the hall and on the stairs.

  These were all Ben’s friends. From the Shifter leaders who relied on him, to the women who found him a trusted confidant and supporter, to the men who called him friend and drinking buddy, to the cubs who admired and trusted him.

  Everyone loved Ben. The man who’d believed himself alone had touched hundreds of lives, and now they surrounded him to mourn.

  “Please try,” Rhianne begged Zander once more.

  Zander’s expression told Rhianne it was far too late. Andrea had put her hands on Ben outside, where he’d lain in the circle of trees, but said she could find nothing inside him that connected. Rhianne wasn’t certain what she meant by that, but the look in Andrea’s eyes had filled her with anguish.

  Zander now laid his hands on Ben’s chest and closed his eyes. His mate, Rae, holding her Guardian’s Sword, put her fingertips on Zander’s shoulder.

  Binding with him, Rhianne saw, their magic stirring her own. Rae’s Sword of the Guardian rang softly as its magic passed through Rae and into Zander.

  Zander began to chant words in a Fae-like language. The Shifters in the room whispered along, except Connor, who only stared numbly at Ben. Tiger-girl stood next to Connor, subdued, her hand in his.

  For a long time the chant went on. A soft breeze came through the open window, and with it the sweet sound of wind chimes.

  Rhianne’s thoughts flashed back to the haunted house. Ben was its caretaker. If he was moved there, would its magic help?

  A long journey. Rhianne’s heart sank. Could she fly him? she wondered. Did she have the strength to make it five hundred miles without dropping him or damaging him even more?

  Zander’s chanting trailed off, and he opened his eyes. “I’m sorry. He’s already gone. I can’t reach him.”

  Rae met Rhianne’s gaze. “Do you want me to do it, Rhianne? Or Sean?”

  “Do what?” Rhianne asked, her voice barely working.

  Connor coughed to clear his throat. “She means send him to dust with her sword. I don’t know if that works on goblins.”

  “He’s of Faerie,” Rae said gently. “It should.”

  “No.” Rhianne laid her head on Ben’s chest, willing his heart to beat. It remained still, Ben’s skin cool. “Please don’t,” she begged Rae. “Not yet.”

  “The touch of a mate,” Tiger rumbled.

  No one explained what he meant. Zander said quietly, “Not sure that will work either.”

  Rhianne shut them out. She caressed Ben’s tattooed arms, thinking of how powerfully they’d held her. He’d given her everything—a place to stay and a shoulder to cry on, showed her new and exciting things, taught her not to fear the beast inside her, taught her how to fall in love.

  “I love you, Ben.” Rhianne whispered his real name, the syllables flowing from her tongue as though they belonged there.

  Millie’s voice wafted through the door. “Yes, you do need to let me in, young man.” Dylan’s growl answered her. At any other time, Rhianne might be amused at Dylan’s reaction to being called a young man, but now she could feel nothing.

  Rhianne lifted herself from Ben but kept her hand on his arm. “Tiger, let her come.”

  Without a word, Tiger crossed the room and opened the door. Millie, carrying her handbag, marched in. Her sons peered worriedly around the doorframe, their way blocked once more when Tiger shut the door.

  Millie sidled through the Shifters to the bed. “This might not work, dear,” she said to Rhianne. “I do not wish to give you false hope. But he is a goblin, and Shifter magic might be useless on him.”

  “Please.” Rhianne sent Millie a desperate look across the bed.

  Millie opened her handbag and removed what appeared to be a small iron bar. Rhianne saw as she brought it closer that it was a statue, about five inches long, in the shape of an upright man, so ancient its features had nearly been worn away.

  Millie placed the statue on Ben’s chest. She closed her eyes and began a chant. Unlike Zander’s smooth, almost musical words, these were in the harsh, guttural language of goblins.

  Rhianne felt the magic in the talisman. It was old, so very old, it must have existed long before the Tuil Erdannan. Some historians claimed that goblins were the first race of Faerie, but none knew where they’d come from or how they’d arisen. The earth itself had given birth to them, was the speculation. Goblins were powerful, strange, and connected to the earth like no others.

  The jangle of wind chimes came to Rhianne, more insistent now. They sounded exactly like the chimes at the haunted house—Kim or Carly must have hung up a set of the same type.

  A whisper that sounded like laughter wove among the chimes. Rhianne thought she felt the ground tremble, though that might simply be her own shaking. None of the others reacted to it.

  Outside, rain fell in a gentle patter. Millie continued to chant. At long last, she fell silent and straightened up, though she left the talisman on Ben’s chest.

  “Old magic,” she said. “It is the only relic I brought when we fled Faerie.”

  She’d carried it from that day to this, Rhianne thought with sudden insight, to help her and her family survive.

  The last threads of the mate bond were dissolving, and Rhianne’s thoughts scattered with the profound pain of that loss. A part of her had wrapped itself in Ben, and he in her.

  The wind chimes became more insistent, the whisper audible in her mind. Save him.

  I can’t. The words wailed inside her. I’m losing him.

  Rhianne clung to the final strand of the mate bond, let the music of the wind chimes surround her, and leaned down and kissed Ben’s unmoving mouth.

  His lips were cold, so cold. Rhianne warme
d them with hers and silently repeated the syllables of his true name once more. “Ben,” she finished in a whisper. “I accept the mate claim.”

  Under her, Ben jerked. Rhianne popped up, about to scowl at whoever had shoved the bed, but Ben’s body jerked again.

  His limbs began to twitch, as though some unseen force controlled them. The thrashing increased violently, and Zander and then Tiger leapt forward to hold Ben down.

  Rhianne joined them, lying across Ben’s chest, kissing his neck, fearing what was happening to him.

  Ben continued to convulse. The iron statue didn’t move, as though it was fused to his chest. The wind chimes jangled frantically, but no heavy wind was evident to move them. The rain came down harder, beating on the roof of the porch outside the open window, a rumble of thunder booming in the distance.

  Under Rhianne, Ben gasped.

  She shot upward, and Tiger and Zander sprang back. Ben’s chest rose with a sharp breath, and a flush infused his skin.

  Ben’s eyes flew open. For a moment, he saw nothing, staring without comprehending.

  Then Ben blinked, glanced at those around the bed, and tried to raise his head. He crashed back down to the pillow with a groan.

  “Whoa.” Ben’s voice was a croak. “That was weird. Hey, sweetheart. Did we get him?”

  Rhianne, tears flowing, flung herself onto him. She heard the others sigh, relax, sniffle, even sob. The tension of those bracing for grief eased away to rejoicing.

  “Yeah, you got him,” Connor answered shakily for Rhianne. “Got him and a half.”

  “That’s good.” Ben weakly stroked Rhianne’s hair. “That other eagle. Was that your dad, Rhianne?”

  The man with the red-brown hair and deep brown eyes was outside the room, waiting. Eamon, he’d said his name was. Rhianne nodded at Ben.

  “Well, that’s something.” Ben continued to caress, trying to comfort her. “You did it, Rhianne.” A tiny note of triumph entered his whisper. “And I heard you say yes to the mate claim.”

  The wind chimes slowed to a soft shimmering, which matched the mate bond that wove with renewed strength around Rhianne’s heart.

  “I did,” she answered. “I love you, Ben.”

  “Love you, Rhianne.” Ben rumbled, and thunder answered him. “My mate.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ben soaked in the sunshine on Liam’s back porch, Rhianne squashed next to him on the padded porch swing. Connor sat cross-legged on the wooden deck, close enough to touch Ben and make sure he was really there. Tiger-girl perched on the railing above Connor, watching all with her assessing gaze.

  The storm had broken and rolled away as swiftly as it had arrived. Blue sky arched over Shiftertown once more, tattered clouds drifting on a soft breeze. The same air moved wind chimes, which gave off a silvery note.

  Funny, Ben never remembered those wind chimes being there before. Maybe Jazz had brought some here from the haunted house.

  Rhianne hadn’t let go of Ben since he’d woken a few hours ago, which was fine with him. He’d made all the other Shifters go away once he realized he was starkers under the sheet. Embarrassing.

  He’d dressed in sweats that were too big for him, with Rhianne assisting. Okay, so they’d spent some time on the bed kissing and caressing. A little crying too, on both their parts. Ben had been too weak to do much more, darn it. He’d had to put in great effort just to reach the porch, but he hadn’t wanted to stay in bed.

  Millie stepped out from the house, bearing a tray filled with glasses of iced tea. Ben would have preferred something stronger, but decided that this soon after death, maybe caffeine was better than alcohol.

  Millie’s handbag swung from her arm, such a small thing in which to carry the elixir of life.

  She set out iced tea for everyone, including Connor and Tiger-girl, then stood back, tray pressed to her abdomen as she peered at Ben.

  “You appear to be on the mend,” she announced.

  “Hell of a lot better than I was.” Ben had known only darkness, thick and strange, for a long time. He hadn’t been afraid, just … unsettled. In all this darkness, he’d seen one slender glow of light beckoning to him. He’d made his way to it, wrapped a hand around it, and held on.

  Ben had realized after he woke what he’d clung to had been a thread of the mate bond. It wove around him now and stretched to Rhianne, who was satisfyingly close against his side.

  “You wouldn’t have died all the way,” Millie told him, in a tone that was meant to be reassuring.

  “Sure.” Ben didn’t believe her. He’d certainly felt dead. “What was that thing you put on me? It was heavy.” It had weighed on his chest until he’d sat up. Millie had caught it before it rolled off the bed.

  “I don’t know.” Millie set the tray on the railing, opened her handbag, and removed the iron statue. Light played on the molded lines, which didn’t tell Ben much. “I picked it up when we fled Faerie. It had been abandoned on a vendor’s cart. It has always brought my family good luck, sped our healing, things like that. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it on you.”

  Ben studied the statue, its long shape rounded at one end. He winced. “I hope it’s not a … you know. A personal pleasuring device.”

  Millie lifted the statue and scanned it in all seriousness while Connor went off into gales of laughter.

  “No.” Millie dropped the statue back into her purse. “Those are quite different.”

  Connor’s laughter trailed down to chortles, while Tiger-girl watched him in puzzlement.

  “Why do you say he wouldn’t have died all the way?” Rhianne asked. “Because of the mate bond?”

  Millie shook her head. “The mate bond helped, of course, to keep him from drifting too far. But I knew he’d come back. He’s the last warrior.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me,” Ben said impatiently. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means that you will not perish until the last battle.” Millie folded her hands. “Until you’ve saved your people or lost them entirely.”

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  “That’s cheerful,” Ben said, rubbing his hand over his hair. “Something to look forward to.”

  Rhianne lifted her head from Ben’s shoulder. “How do you know that, Millie? When we first met you, you wanted to kill him.”

  Millie’s lips pinched. “I have apologized for that already. After I went home, I looked you up, Ben, and realized who you truly were. That is why I wanted to meet with you again.”

  “Looked me up where?” Ben asked in suspicion. “The Goblin Encyclopedia?”

  Millie didn’t laugh. “The Shifter Guardians have a database they call the Guardian Network. The goblins have a similar one. Except I created it. Once we were exiled, I knew goblins would be forgotten, so I gathered every bit of knowledge about our people I had saved and searched for hidden bits of it in this world. When we left Faerie, others grabbed money or family heirlooms. I took manuscripts. Once computers came along, I input all the data for faster retrieval.”

  “Very resourceful,” Ben said with new respect.

  “My sons did not think so. They can be ignorant louts.”

  “But brave fighters.” Ben gave her a nod. “Please thank them for having our backs.” The goblin boys had gone out to make friends with the Shifters once they’d made sure Ben was truly all right.

  “You are welcome.” Millie lifted the tray from the railing. “Enjoy the tea.” She vanished into the house.

  “She is so weird,” Ben murmured.

  “I think she’s wonderful.” Rhianne snuggled into Ben’s shoulder. “She gave you back to me.”

  Ben knew that Rhianne and the mate bond had done that, though Millie’s talisman had given them a boost.

  He kissed Rhianne’s hair and held her close, aware of Tiger-girl watching with avid intensity. The wind chimes tinkled, a sound of satisfaction.

  * * *

  Many people came to visit Ben that afternoon and on
into the night. Rhianne kept near him, not wanting to leave him for a moment.

  Shifters did what Ben said they always did when disaster had been averted. They brought out music, lights, drinks, and started to party.

  Ben, with goblin resilience, felt better quickly, and soon was wandering among the Shifters, beer in hand, Rhianne at his side. Sean had fired up a grill and cooked charred meat he called burgers.

  Everyone wanted to pay respects to Ben, greeting him and hugging him, males and females alike. Shifters liked to embrace, Rhianne saw. Which was fine—she liked it too.

  The Shifters hugged her as well, congratulating her on the mate bond. “Sun and Moon soon,” Connor had said jubilantly. “I love the mating ceremonies.”

  “He means the little get-togethers Shifters have to make the mating official,” Ben explained to Rhianne. “One in full sunlight, the other under the full moon. And then more dancing, drinking, and … ah … mating.”

  Rhianne laughed. “I’ve heard of the ceremonies.” She had a bottle of cold beer in her hand, enjoying the bubbly concoction just as she had in New Orleans. “Are you saying we’ll have this mating ceremony?”

  “If you want it.” Ben stopped her under a tall tree, moonlight dappling his face through the leaves. Beyond them, Shifters milled about the green in human or animal form, chasing each other, dancing, or pairing up and sneaking off into shadows. “Do you want that, Rhianne?”

  His eyes held wariness.

  Rhianne took his hand in hers. “After all we went through, you have to ask me? Are you afraid I’ll want to run back to Faerie, return to the life of a Tuil Erdannan?”

  “A goblin in exile can’t compete with the glamor of that.” Ben kept his voice light, but his trepidation rang through.

  She shook her head. “I am not leaving much behind. The astronomy work I did I can do here—I’m eager to see the stars of this world and learn all about them. I can return from time to time to visit my mother and tutor the children I like to help, otherwise ...” She let out a breath. “I took the post in a remote part of Faerie because I was searching for … I didn’t know what. Trying to figure out who I was. You helped me find out who I am in truth, and then helped me deal with it. I never want to go back to that life, that uncertainty. I want to stay here. With you.”