by Kym Grosso
“I think I’m okay,” she told him. He’d braced her sides with his hands, his thumbs resting under her breasts. “I need to do this alone. You can watch, of course.”
“Of course,” he hissed. She was so lovely. And his. With the Mistress gone, he could take her quickly but then thought better of it. He stood and backed away but not before adjusting his erection that strained against his zipper.
Wynter slowly opened her lids and took a cleansing breath. Finally, he’d stopped smothering her. Freed, she could shift. She licked her lips nervously, considering how it would be the first time she’d attempted to do it by herself.
“Go on then,” he urged.
“Sorry, I just need a minute to make this work. I’m not as good at it as the others,” she told him truthfully.
“Aren’t you going to disrobe? I thought you said…”
“I will,” she cut him off. The pervert just wanted to see her naked. “I need to concentrate a minute first. The silver, my energy is low.”
Wynter closed her eyes again. Breathing in and out, she meditated, searching for her wolf. Come on, girl, let’s go. In her mind’s eye, she saw her wolf crouching, yelping in distress. Another wolf flashed as if she’d seen a vision: Logan. She could sense him and was certain he was coming for her.
As Étienne watched, she quickly tore off her shirt, shorts and bikini. The vampire’s eyes on her skin repulsed her, but she had no choice. Calling her wolf to the surface, the metamorphosis claimed her. But as quickly as it came her wolf disappeared, leaving her in a naked heap on the floor. She tried to shove off the silver corset that lay across her legs but once again she’d been impaired by the insidious metal. Unable to stand, she scrambled to pull on her shirt and shorts.
“What are you doing?” Fiona screamed at Étienne.
“She needs to shift if she’s going to go with us. Also, as you know, the shift enabled her blood count to rise,” he explained dryly.
Wynter gave him a look of confusion. Allowing her to shift had been a ruse to get her blood to regenerate? They were going to drain her.
“Idiot,” Fiona countered. “You do realize they’re coming? Get her blood now. We’ll take it with us.” She threw a bag at him.
“Sorry darling, this’ll only take a minute.” Étienne, still gloved, pushed Wynter to the floor, dragging the corset over her torso. He sorted out the needles, tubes, plastic bags now strewn about the wooden planks. “You are a quick dresser, aren’t you? Pity.”
“No, please,” Wynter begged, struggling under the weight of him. She needed to stall. “I promise I’ll help.”
“Certainly, now just a small prick,” he told her, jabbing the hypodermic needle into the crook of her arm. Smiling, he laughed as he did so. “I’m quite good at finding a vein.”
Like a quick-moving stream, her blood gushed through the thin plastic tubing, slowly filling the first bag. Wynter turned her face away from him, praying Logan was close. She knew from experience it would take at least ten minutes for him to collect the first pint. A woman of her size probably had only eight pints of blood in her whole body. Even though she hadn’t fully recovered her blood volume after his bite, she figured that with her preternatural wolf healing, she might survive after losing four or five pints, which equated to fifty minutes, tops.
“Hurry up with her,” Fiona yelled. She took the first bag and then a second from Étienne. “The boat’s ready to go. We’ll kill her, leave her body. Logan will stay here with his mate for at least a while. We’ll have plenty of time to get to shore. It’s only a short drive to Mississippi.”
“I hate to disappoint you Mistress, but we need to take care in collecting the samples. I don’t want to damage the red blood cells. Careful,” he instructed. “Put equal bags in the cryo-storage unit and the cooler. Some of these need to be frozen for long-term usage.”
“Whatever, just hurry,” Fiona said dismissively. “I can feel the pack. They’re getting closer.”
“I thought you said no one knew where this hellhole was?” he said accusingly.
“No one does,” she lied. “Just come on.”
She took the third bag and sealed it into the freezer and snapped it shut.
“Just one more bag and then we’ll go. She’s almost done,” he insisted.
“Fine, I’m taking this out to the boat. I’ll be right back.” No I won’t, she thought to herself.
Fiona opened and shut the door, careful not to make any noise. With the pack on her heels, time was up. She scurried over to the small skiff, got in and settled the cooling box between her legs. Frozen samples were better than fresh ones, she reasoned. She still had samples of Emma’s blood stored safely in another state. All she needed to do was get to dry land. She’d fly under the radar for a month or so and find a new scientist.
As the small outboard purred into the night, she caught the sight of lights in the distance. She smiled coldly knowing her Alpha would find his mate dead. And Étienne would fight to the death, wondering where she’d gone.
“So sorry, I’m afraid this is going to be the last bag, darling. Feeling weak, are you?” Étienne asked, placing it into the cooler.
Wynter’s eyelashes fluttered. Unable to speak or move, she lay face up, staring up at the rusted metal ceiling. So this was how she was going to die? A tear ran down her face as she thought of how her life might have been with Logan. They would have mated. Wynter realized she wanted a wedding, with Jax giving her away. She wanted Logan’s children. Together forever. But, sadly, it was all a dream. She was dying. Peacefully accepting the inevitable, she closed her eyes and prayed that Logan would survive without her.
Logan’s clothes were off as the airboat hit the bank. Man to wolf, he’d morphed to his beast. Wynter. He smelled her blood and couldn’t contain the rage. Tearing through the brush, he rammed into the flimsy door. Vampire. His mate. He growled, saliva dripping from his lips, and lunged.
At first, Étienne thought he’d heard Fiona returning, but quickly surmised it was an animal. As the menacing wolf crashed through the door, he clutched Wynter’s shoulders and wrapped a muscular arm around her neck. He glared at Logan, daring him to come closer. Grateful that Fiona had taken the frozen blood, he’d have to abandon the rest of the bags. His bargaining chip for his escape was thankfully still breathing, albeit on her way to death. Still, he dangled her in front of the Alpha.
“Good dog,” he jeered. “That’s right. Look what I’ve got here.”
Logan hit the floor frozen as he watched the vampire lift Wynter into the air by her throat. His vision. Oh Goddess, no. He heard and smelled Dimitri and Jake approaching and barked, warning them not to proceed.
“Amazing how responsive animals are when given the proper motivation? Look at your mate. Like a docile puppy,” he whispered in Wynter’s ear.
Wynter’s eyes flew open. She recognized the three wolves before her but was unable to speak. As the life drained from her body, she wished she could tell Logan one more time that she loved him, but she couldn't utter even a hushed word. Struggling, she mouthed, ‘I love you’. Tears fell from her eyes. She hoped he’d find another mate someday, be happy. There was nothing he could do. Even if the vampire released her, she was dying.
Logan transformed to man. His eyes bored into the demon that held his mate.
“Give her to me now,” he demanded. Logan recognized the vampire as the one from the club with Devereoux, yet he let no hint of recollection show on his face. A shadow of doubt crept into his head. Just how far was Devereoux involved in this mess?
“What makes you think that’s going to happen, wolf? I’ve got Dr. Ryan. I plan to walk out of here, get on that boat…”
“And what boat might that be? My boat?”
“Fiona…she’s waiting,” he stammered.
“She’s gone.” The chinks in the vampire’s arrogant armor became apparent. Fiona must have betrayed him as well.
“Liar!” Étienne screamed.
“Jake, take Z
eke, go after her. She can’t have gone far,” Logan commanded.
The walls closed in around the vampire. Choices dwindling, he’d have to fight his way out of the cabin and take the Alpha’s boat to shore. How hard could it be to get out of this godforsaken swamp, anyway? Fiona would surely be waiting for him. Without his brilliant mind, she’d never get what she wanted from the virus.
“My mate. Give her to me now, and I’ll grant you mercy.” Logan’s cold voice resonated throughout the cabin. Dimitri lowered his head.
“I’ll give her to you,” he smiled. The lilt of his voice wavered in preparation for what he was about to do.
Étienne was a great fighter, he thought. A mere wolf could not challenge him. Wynter’s blood had charged his system. He’d created her, and her special blood now ran through him, making him stronger than any supernatural. As soon as he tasted the Alpha’s blood, the lupine vitality would flow into his veins making him nearly invincible.
Logan tensed in preparation, waiting on the vampire to drop Wynter. He’d show mercy all right. He’d stake him quickly as opposed to tearing him apart limb by limb and then decapitating him.
“Mine,” he growled.
“Not anymore.” Before Logan could charge, Étienne extended a large claw. As if slitting the throat of a farm animal, he slashed it across Wynter’s throat. Her eyes bulged right before he tossed her to the floor.
“No!” Logan screamed. As he leapt into the air, he transformed into wolf. Flying directly at the vampire, he lodged his teeth into the vampire’s neck.
Étienne flailed at the wolf, digging his claws up into Logan’s gut. Eviscerating the Alpha, he tore open the fur. Blood sprayed onto the floor. An enormous burn flared inside Logan yet he refused to release the vampire. He’d killed his mate. No death or torture would appease the revenge he sought. No matter what pain he felt, he’d kill him.
Dimitri transformed to human, scooping Wynter into his arms.
“Wynter, please, oh Goddess,” he cried at the sight.
Her pale skin was split open laterally, exposing her trachea’s cartilage. He frantically pinched the skin together. Tearing a swathe of cloth from her shirt, he applied pressure to the wound. A sob escaped his lips as he realized it was too late. Logan would never recover from her death, nor would he. Helplessly, he continued to try to stop the bleeding as her heartbeat slowed.
Logan saw Dimitri out of the corner of his eye with his mate. The vision of Wynter dying played out before him. As the vampire shoved his hand up further into his abdomen, he summoned every power he’d been given as Alpha. Strength. Perseverance. Domination. Logan concentrated, focusing his powerful jaw muscles and forced them downward. The crushing pressure sliced through the tendons and muscled tissue, tearing at the vampire’s carotid. Wrenching backward, his beast broke away taking the dark flesh with him.
Blood spewed wildly as the vampire stumbled forward, still attempting to leave the cabin. Logan, gravely injured, shifted back to human. Enraged beyond reason, Logan lunged onto Étienne’s back wrapping his arm around his already wounded neck. With every ounce of energy he had left, he pressed his knee into Étienne’s back, forcing him onto the floor. With a final twist of his arms, he snapped the vampire’s neck. Fighting for breath, Logan’s beast was unsatisfied. He’d show no mercy. As the vampire’s remains twitched on the ground, his eyes searched the room. Stretching to reach the broken chair, he tore off a shard and drove it into Étienne’s heart.
Logan roared in agony, turning to Dimitri. While the shift had healed the gaping hole in his abdomen, his heart felt as if it had been decimated. The grief on Dimitri’s face confirmed what he’d already known. Wynter was dead. He dropped to the floor on his hands and knees, sobbing. Taking her into his arms, Logan gently cradled his mate.
Fiona leapt from the boat. A few more feet and she’d drive to safety. She knew they were hot on her trail, but she also knew that she was still a few steps ahead of them, as always. Stupid wolves. They always assumed that mere muscle would allow them to lead. Maybe she’d never win a physical challenge, but it was just a matter of time before she had every last wolf begging at her feet. Revenge would be sweet. She’d infect them all with the virus. Then she’d be their savior, whether they liked it or not.
Fiona grabbed the laptop bag and hoisted the small cryo-freezer onto the dirt. Heavy as it was, she only had about a hundred feet to travel through the brush before she reached the small clearing. Shoving the boat adrift with her foot, she set out on her journey. Her eyes darted from side to side. It was quiet. Too quiet, she noted. Not even a cricket could be heard. But she kept on her path, only fifty more feet and she’d be at the car.
With a whoosh, branches split before her eyes. It was dark but she could make out a figure in the moonlight. She sniffed. Vampire. Adrenaline rushed as her mind raced. Had Étienne created more vampires and not told her? He’d been privy to the car’s location. She fought to calm her nerves. Why should she fear a vampire? She’d killed many of them while Étienne watched. This was just one more. She crouched in the brush, tore off a stiff branch and began to whittle it into a sharp stake with her claws.
The tall masculine shadow deliberately and confidently tramped toward her until the light of his eyes became apparent. She gasped at the sight of the ancient one. Léopold Devereoux. No, not him. How could he have found her? Like a frightened rabbit, she froze in the darkness, awaiting his approach, hoping he wouldn’t see her.
“Ah, I found you,” his smooth voice called into the crisp night air. Nearly at her feet, the dark angel loomed. His beautiful but deadly presence resounded in the forest like a drum roll before an execution.
“Petite louve, I smell it. The putrid stink of your evil permeates the air. So familiar am I with the scent,” he told her. “You like a chase, no? I assure you this is one you’ll not win.”
With preternatural speed, he flew to Fiona, snatching her up by her throat. He allowed her feet to remain on the ground as he shook her like a dog with its toy.
“You like to play with vampires? My vampires,” he growled. With a flick, he threw her onto the damp earth.
Fiona rebounded, crab-walking backwards, dragging her bottom along the dirt.
“No, Étienne, he came to me freely,” she claimed.
“He cannot come to you freely, because he belongs to me,” Léopold explained coldly, brushing a weed from his coat sleeve. “And for this you shall die. The only decision to be made is if I should kill you myself? Or perhaps I should let your own tear you to shreds? Such choices.”
Léopold smiled casually as the two large male wolves, Jake and Zeke, padded forward. He carefully considered his decision as Fiona sat before him awaiting her fate. His lovely little Dr. Ryan had been tortured by her and Étienne. That alone would have been enough to warrant her death. But the little bitch had gone and killed a wolf using his vampires to do it.
With a glance to the mud, he’d chosen. Oh how he hated to get his new leather shoes soiled.
“The research, the samples. You’ll never get them,” she stalled, pushing onto her feet.
“You are a devilish schemer aren’t you?” he laughed. “A shame you have no discipline. But don’t worry your pretty little head. I plan to rectify that right now.”
Léopold rushed forward, yanking her upward. He tore open her collar, exposing her long neck. The moonlight glinted off his white fangs right before they pierced her flesh. Her legs flailed, kicking into the night. Neither Jake nor Zeke moved one inch to intervene. Throwing his head backwards, he spat her blood into the grass and tossed her to the wolves.
Her body flinched as she stole looks between the wolves right before they attacked. Barely a scream could be heard as they ripped her flesh until she was no more.
Léopold retrieved a crisp white handkerchief and dabbed at his chin. How he hated messy killings. But responsibility and duty drove his actions. Meting out punishment was never easy, but he watched in pleasure as the wolves executed their own
. She’d been a blight who’d caused quite enough trouble. Like the virus she sought to propagate, she’d been eradicated.
As Jake transformed in front of him, he gave Léopold a nod in acknowledgement. Not sure what to make of the vampire, he and Zeke got to work, disposing of Fiona’s remains. After they’d fed the alligators, Jake snatched up the laptop so he could give it to Logan.
Léopold strode over to the cooler and flipping it open, saw bags of blood. He tore them open and quickly surmised that it belonged to the Alpha’s mate. As he emptied the last of the crimson fluid into the swamp, a hint of dread registered. He sniffed out into the bayou. So much fresher than the samples, it permeated his olfactory senses, exciting unadulterated rage. Wynter’s blood. The call of death sang into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I can save her,” Léopold uttered softly. He watched as the grieving Alpha rocked his mate. Like an animal that had lost one of his own, the wolf refused to release the body.
Dimitri leaned against the wall, his head in his hands. Unlike the Alpha, who was utterly despondent, he peered over to the imposing vampire.
“Devereoux, you need to get outta here. Wyn, she’s…” Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
Although wolves were generally immortal, lethal wounds to the neck effectively killed them. While Wynter’s heartbeat was faint, she’d be dead within minutes and shifting was no longer an option. Nothing could be done. As the minutes ticked by, Dimitri had watched his Alpha care for his mate, tell her he loved her. Last words. Last caresses.
“But I can save her, wolf,” Léopold persisted.
Logan slowly lifted his head and caught sight of the vampire standing in the doorway. “What?” he choked.
“Alpha, you know my blood can heal wolves.” Léopold proceeded cautiously. The Alpha, immersed in his bereavement, could attack.
“She’s too far gone; you and I both know that. I can barely hear her heartbeat. The rattle in her lungs has stopped. Please,” Logan begged, tears streaming from his eyes. His voice broke into a cry. “I need to say goodbye. She’s going to leave me. My mate…he killed her.”