Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

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Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set Page 48

by Flynn, Connie


  Taking a chance, Tony pivoted and took the remaining distance in long, rib-splitting strides. When he was within feet of the door, he fell to the ground and rolled beneath the curtain. His side screamed in agony, and he held it as he crouched by the fire. His breath came in excruciating heaves.

  The wolves let out an angry howl. One came crashing through the curtain. It yelped, somersaulted, rolled out the way it had come. Another tried and left just as quickly, with pain.

  None of the others attempted to enter. Except for the roar of the rainstorm, all was silent on the other side of the curtain. Then Tony heard feet approaching. Not the even beat of four paws on the ground, but the sound of a creature walking upright.

  "Another time, Shaman," someone snarled through the curtain.

  "Arlan?" Tony asked, sure he recognized the voice. "We thought you were dead."

  "Yes, I'm alive. More alive than I have ever been. I am one of the Lupine now, and I shapeshift with ease. Soon you, Riva, and that mewling offspring of yours shall serve as our dinner. None shall mourn your names."

  Tony's heart filled with pity. "It might not be too late," he said. "Lily has ways. She could restore you."

  "Bah! I do not wish to be restored. I am destined for greater things. When the People pass into Quakahla I shall rule them in the ways of old."

  "Arlan . . ."

  But he was gone. Tony knew it by the way the Stone People flared again, filling the lodge with light.

  Although he hated to lose sight of Lily, who was still pounding her fists on Sebastian's back, he called back the hawk. Its eyes soon told him the wolves had truly gone, and a few minutes later he saw them scurrying after their king.

  He had no smelling salts, nor had he advised Lily to bring the sanctified water. They were to stay in the sacred lodge by night, and werewolves seldom ventured out by day except in human form.

  His ribs still throbbing, he moved through the curtain, the knife in his hand. The raptor was again rising and falling with the currents above Sebastian's head. Lily had stopped struggling. From what she'd told him, he knew Sebastian's plan had been to return her to his pack. But what now? Had she angered him so much his plans had changed?

  Tony started down the perilous side of the mesa, taking minimal care, his only goal to reach Lily while she was still alive. What he would do when he got there, with only his knife and the hawk to aid him, he didn't know.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tony raced along the river trail. The hawk's eyes told him Lily was as yet unharmed, but had no way of escaping. The pack was miles ahead of him. He compelled his legs to move faster. They gave him their best, which wasn't enough, and he considered sending the hawk in to attack. But even the agile raptor couldn't take on nine werewolves. Should it be injured, Tony would feel the pain as acutely as if he'd received the blows himself.

  He'd never catch up this way. His only hope was to meld with his thought-form, glide down from the sky, and shapeshift to human form when he landed near the werewolves. He'd done it before. Surely the gift would come again.

  Delving deep into his psyche, he willed himself to join with the hawk. He waited for the merging to occur as it had in New York and again at the Clearing of the Black Hands, but instead of feeling talons drawn against a feathered underbelly, he felt human feet pounding the riverbank. He tried a second time, again without success.

  When his third attempt also failed, Tony's frustration mounted. As he fought off despair, he heard a small voice inside him. Call on me in your hour of need.

  "Brother, I need you," he cried, more from hopelessness than faith that Bear would appear.

  Suddenly, instead of looking down from the air, as his thought-form had been doing, he saw leaves and pine needles. He moved with an awkward gait that still managed to deliver considerable speed. As the thought-form turned its head, he saw a round brown nose and got a glimpse of white shaggy fur.

  Bear had heeded his call.

  * * *

  Rain fell in sheets off the leaves of the towering trees, soaking Lily to her bones. She bounced miserably in Sebastian's arms as he ate up the trail with his long strides. She'd almost forgotten how monstrously tall werewolves were. If he let go, she'd drop more than five feet.

  Tony's safety concerned her the most. Her heart had fairly stopped when the hawk disappeared a short while before. But now it glided above them again, giving out an occasional shrill cry.

  The rest of the pack had joined them, most retaining their wolf form. Beryl and Ravenheart, however, had returned to the man-wolf shape, and the latter wore an arrogant expression as he jogged behind Sebastian. With relief, Lily noticed that none of them showed signs of recent feeding, giving her additional hope for Tony's safety.

  "Let me go, Sebastian!" she demanded again, although her earlier cries had done no good.

  Sebastian lowered his muzzle until it touched her ear. "Give me no orders, bitch. You forfeited your queenly status the night you slayed the wolfling."

  The old defenses sprang to Lily's lips: Sebastian had insisted she go after Morgan; Jorje had been about to kill him; she never would have–

  Those excuses didn't work anymore.

  "Yes, I killed Jorje," she replied sadly. "I'll live with that for the rest of my days. Take me back if you like, but you'll only be stuck with a sniveling mortal. I'll never go into the ceremonial ring."

  Sebastian hesitated, the idea obviously troubling him. "You have no powers now, Lily. Do not pretend you do."

  But she did. Although she had no idea what they were. If she alchemized now, how would she fare? Without fangs or claws, could she defend herself? She was five feet tall. They were nearly eight. Still, the element of surprise might cause enough confusion to let her escape.

  She willed her alchemization.

  Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. Dismayed, she absently brought her hand to the crystal, thinking about Tony, where he was, whether he was hurt. She must find him. The crystal grew warm against her fingers.

  Sebastian groaned suddenly, his pace turning choppy. Lily was so lost in thought she gave him little notice. The gem in her hand was hot now, warming the chill in her body.

  As soon as she found Tony and knew he was safe, she'd return to the sweat lodge. The Tribunal was incomplete. Although its outcome remained nebulous, she suddenly knew she'd never find peace unless she finished the inquisition.

  Escape, she must. But how?

  Sebastian's groan accelerated to a whimper, tearing Lily from her thoughts. She looked at his face and saw his muzzle wrinkling with pain. He stumbled. His grip on her relaxed.

  Lily seized the moment. Twisting, she jumped from his arms, landing bent-legged on the soggy ground. He didn't try to recapture her. Instead his hands flew to the sides of his head. His whimper turned into an agonized howl. Staring at him in puzzlement, Lily wondered if his agony had something to do with the crystal in her hand. It practically thrummed now, pulsing with so much heat it was slightly uncomfortable to hold.

  Beryl and Ravenheart moved beside their king. "What is it, Lord?" Beryl asked.

  "Stop . . . stop Lily," Sebastian croaked, grinding his hands into his head.

  Just as the pair converged on her, the forest came alive with noise. Hands still pressing on his head, Sebastian turned stiffly. His companions whirled.

  A huge bear was charging at them, rain skittering off a shaggy coat, mud splattering beneath the force of gargantuan feet. Lily took it in with wide-eyed shock. What was this massive creature who barreled down on them so determinedly?

  * * *

  From the riverbank, Tony saw the werewolves and felt the bear's massive head lower. The wolves had turned, prepared for battle, but Bear surprised the closest one with a swipe of his paw before it fully registered his presence. The wolf rolled with a yelp, then crouched to defend itself. Raising on hind legs, the bear lumbered forward and dropped on the wolf's back. When he reared again, the wolf didn't get up.

  Now the pack w
as howling and caterwauling. Several shifted to the larger man-wolf shape. Up ahead, Sebastian held his head as if it were splitting apart. Lily stood before him, hand on the gemstone, appearing paralyzed by the sight of the rampaging bear. Ravenheart and another taller werewolf stayed close to their king, disregarding his orders to move in on Lily.

  Still speeding beside the river in his human body, Tony's head suddenly swirled. He lost consciousness for the space of a breath. Then he was looking through the bear's eyes, feeling a rocking motion as his enormous body swayed above the approaching pack.

  He had become the bear.

  A wolf was in midair, aiming at his throat, and he fell back on all fours, tossed his head, and caught the wolf's forelegs in his teeth. Shaking it brutally, he pitched it into the muddy runoff at the edge of the path. Another wolf flew forward, met Tony's swinging paw, and soared into the trees. Then a man-wolf approached, eyes blazing, fangs bared.

  Tony rose on two legs again, wrapped his front ones around the charging beast. Sharp fangs punctured his shoulder, but still he held on. Two wolves hammered at his back, nipping and tearing. The man-wolf fought fiercely, driving a hind leg into Tony's stomach, its sharp claws tearing fur and flesh. Barely noticing his wounds, Tony upped the pressure of his hold to bone-crushing intensity.

  He heard the spine snap even before the werewolf felt it. Its livid eyes widened in surprise, glazed. Then it grew limp. Tony let it slide to the ground as he whirled to deal with the two animals savaging his back.

  One of the wolves fell off, landing on its fallen companion, its muzzle sinking into the muddy runoff. The other jumped down, hunkering on the ground, lips drawn back and revealing dripping fangs. Another man-wolf stood behind it. Still keeping an eye on them, Tony lifted his head to seek out Lily.

  She was backing away from Sebastian, holding the crystal spear in front of her like a weapon. The minions stood protectively at their leader's side.

  "Get her," Sebastian barked.

  Beryl instantly lunged forward, but Ravenheart merely looked at his master. "The gem, Lord. It is enchanted. We cannot–"

  "Get her!"

  Reluctantly, Ravenheart moved to join Beryl, who even now was closing a hand on Lily's shoulder. A ki-yi-yi abruptly left Beryl's mouth. He fell to his knees. Ravenheart stopped in midstep.

  Lily bolted for the forest. Although Sebastian bellowed orders, neither Ravenheart nor the fallen werewolf moved to obey. Whirling, he bayed, "Philippe!"

  The man-wolf in front of Tony turned at the shout, heard the second order —"Catch, Lily!"—and dashed into the forest. The four-legged wolf backed up, whirled and joined his packmate.

  Tony let his head drop. His body throbbed from the aftermath of the battle, but he didn't care. Lily was safely in the woods. He hoped the driving rain and wind would soon conceal her from her pursuers, but failing that, he hoped the crystal would protect her.

  A few yards down the trail Sebastian and the others seemed like apparitions in the heavy downpour. They had their eyes on him, he knew, gauging him, assessing their chances, but eventually they departed in the opposite direction.

  Tony sank to the ground. Bear's wounds were deep, and he shared every one of them. He needed to shapeshift soon, before it was too late.

  He wasn't sure he could.

  Her journey had taken eons, it seemed. Sebastian, of course, had sent others after her. Lily knew their keen ears could catch her slightest move, but she was running downwind, so they couldn't smell her. A few times she was sure they'd lost her trail, but then she heard them again. They got dangerously close at one point, and she hid in the bushes, doing her best not to fidget as branches scratched her face and water spilled fat, cold drops on her head.

  She heard Philippe grumbling to another in Lupinese, saying Sebastian should forget about her. The second one told him not to blaspheme, but Philippe was obviously too disgruntled about creeping through the forest to stop complaining.

  Lily almost smiled. Philippe had always been a city lover, preferring sidewalk cafes over these more primitive haunts. She'd shared his preference . . . but that had been another life.

  Soon the pair drifted off and when Lily was sure they weren't coming back, she crept from her hiding place and edged back to the riverside trail. Years of flooding had covered it with fine silt that sopped up the rain and cushioned her footfalls, which was easier on her battered bare feet.

  As she sped along, she finally gave thought to the bear. Where had it come from? Arizona did have them—black ones, an occasional brown, all small-bodied berry eaters. But a giant grizzly, pure white in color? Such creatures didn't exist in this part of the world.

  Lightning flashed, silhouetting the dome of the sweat lodge, and Lily pulled one last burst of speed from her legs until she reached the base of the mesa.

  Digging her bare toes into its slick sides, she climbed toward the lodge. Her body was a mass of scratches and bruises from the careless claws of werewolves, the battering from the wind-tossed branches. The perilous climb was made more so by the ferocity of the storm. But she would have crawled through the mud if that's what it took. Tony was inside, well and safe. She knew he was and wouldn't let herself think otherwise.

  She just wished the hawk hadn't vanished when the bear arrived. Refusing to dwell on that, she told herself there was an explanation. Soon her faith would be rewarded. Very soon. She was almost at the top.

  Then her feet hit firmer soil and she dashed for the lodge.

  "Tony! Tony!" She ripped the curtain open. A distressed cry immediately left her lips.

  Heartsick, Lily fell to her knees on the threshold and buried her face in her hands. Rain beat on her back. The curtain flopped against the outside wall, making a sick noise reminiscent of a death knell.

  Could she go on without him? Not just with the inquisition, but with the remainder of her life? She'd never known tenderness before, and now that she had, could she live without it?

  A wind gust blew the heavy curtain through the door, which struck her shoulders and sent her tumbling to the floor. Hot tears stung her eyes, and she angrily rocked to a sitting position and yanked the curtain closed. It throbbed like a bellows from the force of the wind, but stayed in place. Having tamed the wind, she looked around. The drum, the tobacco, the wand of sage were all in place. The Stone People glowed at her from their home in the east corner.

  For once, she welcomed their warmth. Alone and staring at a fiery doorway that called forth the spirits, a sob stirred in Lily's chest. She choked it back, determined not to cry. Tony was out there somewhere, alive.

  But with Sebastian's pack on the prowl he was in deadly danger. And she was to blame. Her impulsive, cowardly flight from the inquisition had put him at risk.

  Shala had already lost a mother because of her. Had she now cost the girl her father too? Could Shala even endure this second loss or would that bubbly enthusiasm leave her big blue eyes for good?

  This stirred memories of the children who'd come in her vision — the mother and fatherless ones, the orphans. She gazed into the coals, realizing it was time to face the Tribunal again. The belligerent boy who'd lost his life to crime had not finished his accusation.

  Leaning forward, she scooped water from the clay bowl and dropped it on the stones. Steam rose. She dipped out another ladleful, then another.

  Soon the lodge filled with mist. She felt light-headed once more. . . .

  CRIPS — large block letters, dripping with blood against a field of black. Slowly the field revolved. A dark angry gaze came into view.

  Could she survive this without Tony's help?

  With a fearful sigh she stretched out beside the pit, knowing she was about to find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "What do you say to me, monster?" Lily gazed into the boy's agonized eyes and took in the small scar beneath his shaved-off hair, the colorful scarf around his neck. What could she say? She'd taken everything from this child without a second thought.

 
"I'm sorry . . ." Weak, pitiful, no excuse, but it was all she had to offer.

  The boy smiled, his teeth bright and even. His jacket dissolved, replaced by an oversized polo shirt. His hair turned thick and black. Then he was gone.

  Lily drifted in a fog until a voice brought her back. "You created me!" it accused.

  "Jorje?" Lifting her head, Lily met the wolfling's recriminating stare.

  "He whom you made, you destroyed? How could you, Lily?"

  You were about to kill Morgan. . . . But she didn't say it. She knew better now. Had she not been so overwrought over the success of Dana's ceremony, had she not feared Sebastian's wrath, she could have saved Morgan without slaying her companion.

  "You served me well, dear one, and I repaid you poorly."

  "Poorly? You killed me!" Jorje stood up, an act rendered impossible by the low ceiling, Lily dimly realized, but he did so nonetheless. Then she gave it no further thought. Jorje had bared his fangs, raised his clawed hands, and was poised to strike.

  How dare he, that puny wolfling?

  "Yes. Yes, yes. I did it," she snarled. "Killing was natural to me!" Her voice gained volume, bringing back the feeling of the power she'd once known. She was filled with it, relished it. "I loved it. Loved the blood, the smell of fear. Even as your neck broke in my hand I was filled with glory. Should I atone for that?"

  Jorje dropped his arms and backed away. Instantly, Lily's perspective changed. She lowered her face to her hands. "But I'm not that creature anymore . . . and I wish, oh how I wish I'd never done it." She looked back at him, knew her eyes were dark with pleading. "I loved you like a child. Can you forgive me?"

  "In time," he said. Then, like the boy in the black leather jacket he was gone.

  Suddenly remorseful tears she'd never before allowed to flow rushed to Lily's eyes. They stung like acid, spilled over and streaked down her face. Her shoulders heaved with the force of her sobs, which came in gulping waves she couldn't fight. After a while she stopped trying. The mist enclosed her again, filled with her torment and guilt, weighing her heart down until she knew it would split in two.

 

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