Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

by Flynn, Connie

  Lily let out an agonized cry. Jerking from his embrace, she planted her feet and slammed her fists on her hips.

  "A stupid legend's going to decide our fate? A stupid legend?" She spun on her heels and paced along the river, spun again and paced back. "You and Star Dancer are mistaken. I'm not White Wolf Woman, I'm not! I don't want to be a legend! I just want to be Lily!" She tapped her breast rapidly several times. "Just Lily. An ordinary woman."

  Suddenly she stopped and stared into Tony's eyes. He tried to prevent it, but she read his thoughts too quickly. "You knew! You knew we wouldn't be together even before we went to the sweat lodge!"

  Flying at him, she beat her fist fiercely on his chest. "Damn you! Damn you! You had no right to keep it from me!"

  "Shh . . . shh, shh ." Her anguish was tearing Tony apart. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her so close she lost her leverage. She kept hitting him, but her blows grew weaker and more infrequent. Suddenly, her tears broke loose. She collapsed against his shoulder.

  "I'm sorry, Lily," he rasped, his throat tightening. "I'm so sorry."

  "Damn you." She sobbed and wrapped her fists in the folds of his plastic rain cape. "You had no right . . . You had no right."

  "I know. I know."

  Tony's eyes stung and he blinked hard, wondering if he should point out what Lily failed to notice. It seemed as cruel as dangling a carrot before a horse, but she deserved to know this part as much as the rest.

  "I have a hope." He pressed her head more tightly to his shoulder, unwilling to meet her eyes. "It is not already done. There are many possible outcomes. Anything can happen."

  A measure of tension left her body. She let go of his rain cape. "Does that mean I might enter Quakahla after all?"

  Tony cleared his throat. "It's only a possibility. A small one. We have to be careful not to hope too much."

  "I see." She stepped from his arms and dabbed at her tears with a piece of her own cape. "I've never been much for caution."

  Dropping the cape, she jutted out her chin and met his eyes decisively. "I'm staying, Tony White Hawk. If there's any chance we can be together, I'm not turning away from it."

  * * *

  They spent the rest of that afternoon quietly with Shala. The entire village was subdued. To Kessa and her family's relief, the warriors found Frieda's remains, and the women of her family prepared for the funeral that would be held after the crossing.

  Only half in jest, Tony had pointed to the place where Lily had climbed to the rim, with a remark that he wanted to be sure she hadn't forgotten where it was. She knew he was trying to get her to reconsider. But Star Dancer's guardedly jubilant response told Lily the High Shaman was more relieved than she was willing to let on. Lily suspected that if she had refused the challenge, not only would the People fail to pass into Quakahla, none would survive the werewolves' siege. This made her more determined to stay, and finally Tony gave up his attempts to change her mind.

  Then the sun began to set, barely noticeable behind the relentless drizzle. Men, women, and children began filing into the longhouse, all in rain gear, carrying satchels with the remainder of their belongings. Tony and Lily passed out the last of the ammonia capsules and holy water to the warriors who would guard the people's passage. When the sun's meager light finally disappeared, Gerard closed the door.

  Amid candles and incense and wafting herb wands, the villagers chanted and sang in their own language, holding hands in a circle and swaying rhythmically. Lily heard Quakahla mentioned several times, but other than that she didn't understand the words. She stood between Tony and Shala, and found the swaying movement eased her tension.

  Finally Star Dancer broke the circle. The room grew hushed. Outside the storm picked up. Raindrops pounded the roof of the longhouse. Wind beat at the eaves. Thunder clapped faraway. Bleats and grunts arose in the animals' pens. Then the first howl rose. Soft at first, sounding almost like the wind, then piercingly louder, closer.

  "The dark moon rises," Star Dancer said, shattering the stillness inside the room. "Quakahla awaits."

  Gerard opened the door. Wind blew rain into the room, and the temperature dropped sharply. People moved from the circle, lining up in front of the door. Mothers held their babies tight and kept their other children close to their sides. Warriors stood behind their families. Grandmothers and grandfathers picked up their burdens. Then everyone turned their eyes to Lily and Tony.

  "We must go out first, before the warriors," Tony told Lily. "It's our job to fend off the beasts. If we do it admirably, they'll pass through safely."

  He bent to kiss Shala.

  "I'll see you in Quakahla, Papa." Then she turned to receive Lily's kiss. "You too, Lily."

  So Tony hadn't told her. The coward. But this night promised enough pain. If he'd held back to spare his daughter from any more, Lily couldn't truly blame him. And his lapse renewed her hope. Perhaps his faith that she'd make the crossing with them was stronger than hers.

  Suddenly he looked up, his eyes growing distant, a sign he was projecting the hawk. "Hurry," he said. "The werewolves are in the maze."

  They exited into a wind-driven downpour, but even the clouds didn't hide the first movement of the eclipse across the moon. The warriors formed a protective line from the longhouse to the canyon that held the cave. Lily and Tony moved to a spot between their position and the maze. People began filing out the door toward Quakahla, moving behind the warriors' shield.

  More howls sounded. Only yards away, blurred shapes took form in the curtain of rain. Then Sebastian appeared, his lips curled into a feral smile. Beryl, Philippe, and Ravenheart flanked him.

  Behind Lily, the villagers calmly started their pilgrimage, giving the werewolves no attention. Beside her, Tony shifted form so rapidly she hardly had time to blink, becoming a bear of such enormous proportions his back almost reached her head. Magnificent, she thought, deeply relieved he'd shifted so effortlessly.

  Breathing easier, she put a hand on his shoulder.

  Alchemize.

  She remained as she was. A second try also failed to produce results. Shocked, and suddenly terrified, her mind spun. What use was she here? How could she protect the Dawn People with only the knife Tony had belted around her waist? This was foolishness. No, craziness. Sebastian would steal her from the village and keep her captive for life. Tony would have to protect his people alone.

  The satisfied gleam in Sebastian's eyes told her he'd read her thoughts and knew she was helpless. She struggled to pull herself together, to block her mind and make him believe she could still fight.

  "The gemstone, Lily."

  At Tony's words she reached inside her rain cape, finding the smooth hard edges of the crystal. She wrapped her hand around it and pulled it out.

  The bear growled. In that same instant, Sebastian took a menacing step forward. "I see you have a new skill, Shaman," he said. "But that will not be enough to save Lily, nor stop Arlan from making a coat out of your dead hide."

  Tony lunged at Sebastian. Using his werewolf agility, the King sidestepped. Propelled by his own momentum, Tony sped forward, crashing into Ravenheart, who leaped on his back, growling.

  "Your time here is short, White Hawk." Ravenheart snarled, nipping and tearing at Tony's shaggy fur. "Soon all that was yours will be mine."

  Roaring denial, Tony rolled, crushing Ravenheart beneath his weight. The werewolf whimpered, wrapped a clawed hand around Tony's ear, but Tony rolled again, landing on all fours, head lowered.

  Philippe and Beryl alchemized to wolf form and flew at Tony. Sebastian closed in on Lily.

  "This will be much easier than I anticipated, dear one." He moved a hand toward her shoulder.

  Lily clutched the crystal tighter. It pulsed to life just as Sebastian grabbed her. A pained moan left his lips and he jerked back as though he'd received an electric shock. The smell of burning hair filled the air. Searching for the source of Sebastian's injury, Lily looked around wildly, her eyes coming to res
t on her own body. It glowed with light, just as it had in her dream. But it hadn't been a dream. This was the weapon Tony had promised would come.

  She had no time to wonder how. Sebastian was jabbing at her like someone trying to see if a coal was still hot. A finger grazed her hand. He moaned again, then dropped his arms and let out an enraged howl.

  To her right Tony battled Ravenheart. Beryl and Philippe nipped at his flanks with their wolf-form teeth. Mud flew everywhere, and all of them struggled for footing on the slick ground.

  Disregarding Sebastian for the moment, Lily rushed to Tony's side. Avoiding a kick from Beryl's hind leg, she enclosed the limb with her hand. He gave a high-pitched squeal, then cart-wheeled and landed in the mud, panting as he scrambled to make another leap.

  The loss of a foe gave Tony new strength. With a twist of his massive body, he jarred Philippe loose. Lily bent down and touched the omega wolf's back.

  Screeching in pain, Philippe ran off to lick his wounds. Having lost the advantage given by the other wolves, Ravenheart strained to break free of Tony's hold, finally managing to rock to his feet. Then he saw Lily. His eyes widened and he backed away.

  "Lord," he called, "we must devise another tack. The wolf woman has the power of the light. She is invincible."

  Still rubbing his scorched hand, Sebastian inclined his head gravely. Then he gave a guttural order to Beryl and Philippe.

  They streaked toward the villagers, who trudged quietly through the rain to the cave. The warriors guarding them threw ammonia capsules. Beryl and Philippe skidded to a stop almost simultaneously. Coughing and cursing, deforming hideously, they kicked the capsules beneath the mud. Several moments passed while the pair transformed to human shape.

  A woman warrior moved forward, holding a vial of holy water. Lily saw her hesitate, knowing she'd been warned to use it sparingly. When the two resumed wolf shape, they charged again, and the woman sprinkled drops, some of which landed on Philippe. Philippe yowled and collapsed on the ground, writhing in the mud, trying to rid himself of the burning liquid.

  Beryl leaped at the woman, who barely had a chance to scream before she slammed against the ground. Other warriors moved to take the fallen woman's place.

  As instructed, the villagers ignored the battle and calmly continued toward Quakahla. Tony came to Lily's side and she again put her hand on his shoulder, watching the drama unfold and trying to choose her next move.

  Philippe had resumed human form and was now groveling naked in the mud. Snarling and yelping, Beryl wove between the warriors, deftly avoiding the flying holy water. Sebastian grinned in satisfaction, which told Lily he had a plan.

  Suddenly realization dawned like a punch to the belly. The rain was diluting the effects of the capsules and water. Already Philippe was back in wolf shape, scrambling to his feet. Beryl was through the line of warriors, almost upon the people. A boy of about ten walked behind a woman carrying a baby.

  Sebastian barked an order in Lupinese. Him. Sebastian was sending the wolves after the boy, who she recognized as Gerard's grandson, knowing Lily would rush in to protect him.

  "Lord," Ravenheart cried. "Your promise."

  "It only bound me if the others did not fight," Sebastian snarled. "Be still now, and watch my plan take shape."

  Beryl closed in on the boy, whose eyes were firmly affixed on his mother's back. Tony bellowed, racing forward to assist. Lily flew behind him, her sandaled feet barely touching the earth.

  By the time she caught up, Tony was already standing protectively in front of the boy. Beryl crouched down, his muzzle curled back to reveal his fangs. But trapped between the warriors and Tony, he couldn't avoid their weapons. Coughing from the ammonia, singed by the holy water, and besieged by the warriors' spears, he jumped to safety.

  The boy's mother grabbed his hand and they moved on with the rest of the villagers. Philippe cowered beside the fallen Beryl. Tony lumbered toward them, roaring angrily. Lily ran behind him.

  Then the last of the pilgrims exited the longhouse. Star Dancer emerged, holding Shala's hand.

  "Now!" she heard Sebastian cry.

  Lily spun toward the sound and saw Ravenheart barreling toward the longhouse. In one ground-eating jump he landed by the door and ripped Shala from Star Dancer's grip.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Shala screamed. Helpless, Star Dancer stared in horror. Tony abandoned his attack on the smaller wolves and galloped forward.

  "Back off, White Hawk, " Ravenheart snarled, "or I'll break the neck of this sniveling spawn of yours."

  "What do you want?" Tony asked.

  "My Lord wants the she-wolf. I want your life."

  "Are you prepared for a fair fight?"

  "Fair, bah? When the wolf woman possesses such powers? No. Enter the woods with me. Alone."

  "No, Papa!" Shala cried.

  Lily realized no one was paying attention to her. The rain made everything hard to see, even for the keen-eyed wolves. Carefully guarding her intention from psychic probes, she inched her way closer to Ravenheart.

  “You will have your fight, Arlan." Tony growled. "Now let my daughter go."

  Just as Lily neared Ravenheart's elbow, Shala came alive in his arms, kicking, screaming, creating the final diversion Lily needed. Leaping forward, she touched the young werewolf. His fur sizzled and he whimpered. Lily ripped Shala free and raced toward the forest.

  "Get her!" she heard Sebastian shout, but knew his order fell on deaf ears. Beryl and Philippe were still licking their wounds, and Ravenheart clearly understood the futility of his lord's request.

  "Papa, Papa!" Shala cried as they ran across the rain-drenched village. "Go back, Lily. Help him."

  "I will, sweetheart," she rasped, almost too winded to talk. "As soon as you're out of danger."

  "But, Papa . . .”

  "He's a warrior. Trust him." And then they were in the trees and Lily thought of the ravine where she'd frequently taken her meals. Shala would be safe there.

  Soon she settled the girl in the big sycamore. "Stay here until one of us comes for you or—" She hesitated. "If all grows silent in the village, watch the dark moon. Run for Quakahla before it passes."

  "No, Lily. I want to help you save Papa."

  "You can't, Shala, and you know that. You'll just get in the way." Lily tried hard not to speak sharply, but Tony . . . he was in such danger. "You must promise you'll do as I say. Please promise."

  After a long pause, Shala sobbed, "I promise."

  Lily whirled for the village. The rainy night fell into total blackness. The eclipse was now complete and would start to move off. Time was running out.

  * * *

  Knowing Shala was safely with Lily, Tony's terror eased. He lowered his head, backing up, and drawing the werewolves from the door of the longhouse. Beryl and Philippe had shapeshifted and healed their injuries. Ravenheart had also recovered and now crept forward. Sebastian stood behind him, waiting.

  Many of the warriors had fallen during the battle. Their comrades handed their injured or lifeless bodies over to the pilgrims, then regrouped. As instructed, none would abandon their post to come to Tony's aid.

  Which is as it should be, he thought, as the four werewolves converged. Too many to beat, but he roared and rose on hind legs regardless, preparing to fend them off for as long as he could.

  Beryl sprang at him first, his jaw poised to clamp on his throat. As Tony braced himself for the blow, the werewolf suddenly fell. Ravenheart stood over him, glowering.

  "No, whelp," he snarled. "The shaman is mine!"

  "Yours?" Beryl screamed, bouncing to his feet and towering over Ravenheart. "This is my rightful kill."

  Ravenheart dipped his head, then surged upward, closing his teeth on Beryl's throat. Gurgling, Beryl drove his clawed hands into Ravenheart's head. Ravenheart grunted, then lifted a leg and jammed it into Beryl's tender underbelly.

  "Desist!" Sebastian roared. "Cease!"

  But the two werewolves were tearin
g at each other. Mud scattered under the force of their powerful claws. Fur flew, blood flowed. Philippe stood by the raging Sebastian, clearly stunned. Then Beryl fell and didn't get up.

  Tony was forgotten for the moment. Though the rain beat down relentlessly, casting everything in gloom, Tony still saw the faint curve of light that signaled the dark moon was ebbing. Less than a dozen people were left in the village. The rest had passed into the canyon, and the warriors would soon follow.

  He loped toward the forest. Lily and Shala were somewhere in there, and he'd bring them out and take them to Quakahla or die trying.

  Then without warning, a massive weight landed on his back and he fell into the mud. Rolling, he came face-to-face with Ravenheart.

  Already suffering from his first encounter with the werewolves, he wasn't certain he could prevail. But Ravenheart had his own share of battle scars. Blood trickled down his wolfish forehead from a ripped ear. A patch of missing fur on his shoulder oozed red.

  Tony sank his teeth into the injured shoulder. Ravenheart quivered, then closed his own fangs into Tony's head, shaking it viciously, ripping flesh. Blood seeped into Tony's eyes, but garnering his strength, he twisted his hindquarters and sent the werewolf tumbling on the ground.

  Then they were both on their feet — Tony on hind legs — circling each other, feinting, moving closer. "After you die, White Hawk, I'll take out Star Dancer. I was planning to kill your daughter too." He laughed cruelly, the sound resembling a hyena's cackle. "But I have decided she will make a fine servant when I finally rule Quakahla."

  "You'd better hurry, traitor." Tony gestured his great white head to the sky. "The time for passing is nearly over."

  With a howl, Ravenheart lunged. Tony let him gain speed, then swiveled just as the werewolf struck. Ravenheart fell to the earth, but quickly regained his footing. Crouching, he moved in on Tony. Then he was all over him, claws digging, teeth biting, and the blood pouring from Tony's wound was nearly blinding him. He aimed at Ravenheart's throat, but missed. A leg aimed at the belly fell short of its mark. When the werewolf flew at his own underside, he tried to swivel again, but his muscles had grown weak and clumsy.