by Kate Douglas
“I think this was a bigger plan than any of us ever realized and now it’s time to put an end to it, once and for all,” he said tightly, and moved to his closet to get a pair of jeans.
Marena moved, too, going to the other side of the room where the bag she’d had with her weeks ago was sitting on the floor beside the dresser. He’d given her drawers to use for her clothes. She also had things in the closet with his and Phelan touched them each time he went in there to get something of his own. He’d never had a woman’s garments near his, never smelled another person’s scent in every direction he turned. A scent that with each passing day was beginning to smell more and more like his.
“You can’t go, Marena,” Phelan said without even turning around to see that she’d begun putting clothes on as well.
He just knew that’s what she was doing, that she would be thinking about fighting this battle, too, out of some misplaced sense of duty.
“I can and I am,” was her response.
She probably hadn’t stopped or even slowed down what she was doing, either. They were just alike in that way, stubborn to the core.
“It’s a long ride and it’s going to be dangerous,” he said as he pulled a shirt over his head and turned to where she was doing the same thing across the room.
He watched as the tight-fitting hot pink material moved down over her breasts and torso, pressing down the breasts he loved touching and licking. She already had on yoga pants and moved to sit on the side of the bed so she could pull on the matching black-and-pink tennis shoes he’d bought for her. Months ago when Phelan had walked into the kitchen to see Channing and Kira ordering clothes online he’d sworn he would never do anything as domestic as buying clothes for a female. Just two weeks ago he’d logged on to the same Web site he’d seen Channing and Kira using and he’d selected pieces that he wanted to see Marena in as if she were there for his pleasure. That wasn’t the case. Phelan found himself trying to remember that more often than not lately.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted, and her head snapped up as she looked at him in surprise.
“Same here,” was her quick response as she went back to tying her shoes. “I don’t want you hurt, either. And the best way for both of us to remain safe is to for us to remain together.”
“Marena—”
“No,” she said, coming to a stand and shaking her head. “This is a pointless argument that’s going to waste more time than we have. The supermoon is less than twenty-four hours away. All hell’s going to break loose at that point, so it makes more sense for us to take care of this situation sooner, rather than later.”
She made total sense and she’d already grabbed her jacket and was walking out of the bedroom before it dawned on Phelan that he still needed to put on his boots and get his own jacket. Doing those things, Phelan thought it was best not to try to figure out exactly when he’d lost this argument or what, if anything, he planned to do about it.
Chapter 11
The sun had just begun to set as Phelan slowed down. He drove his bike around to what was definitely the back entrance to a building that looked like it had been dropped in the middle of nowhere. Marena kept her arms around Phelan’s waist, leaning her body into his as she had been doing for the past hours since they’d left the lodge.
They’d stopped only once for gas, at which time Phelan had brought her two bottles of orange juice and checked her reflexes.
“Block me,” he’d said when they’d stood just a few inches from the bike.
At first Marena hadn’t known what he meant, but then he’d hurled a punch at her and instinct had kicked in. She lifted an arm to block him. He’d swung again and again, moving around her, using his leg to try to sweep hers, and she’d combatted him as if she’d been training for this moment all her life. She was moving faster than she ever had before and was as light on her feet as a person weighing half her body weight. When he picked her up and slammed her to the ground Marena bolted up just seconds after her back had touched the dirt ground, pushing him off her and baring her teeth.
She had teeth, sharp and long, pricking against her lips as she attempted to close her mouth. A look down at her hands showed her claws once more, and this time Marena flexed her fingers back and forth to get used to the look and feel of the deadly weapons. Her entire body felt different, rejuvenated and energized as she stood with her legs spread slightly apart, her mind poised for attack.
“You’re ready,” Phelan had said to her then. “Focus your mind on everything human. The feel of your human hands and feet. The way you talk and walk, sleep and wake. Put your mind . . . and eventually your body back into the human state.”
Marena felt her head tilting as she stared at him through a crystal-clear gaze. She could see not only Phelan in his human body but way beyond him to the edge of a cliff. Below the cliff were a town and buildings with lights and cars, people. She inhaled deeply at the sight and picked up several different scents—leaves from the trees near the cliff, cigarette smoke from where she had no idea, and gasoline fresh from the gas station.
“Focus on the human,” Phelan said once more. “Focus, Marena. Control the lycan and the shift.”
She blinked and inhaled again, this time scenting the air, looking up to the crystal blue of the sky. Her gaze returned to Phelan, to his tall form, the muscled arms stretched down at his sides and strong legs clad in navy blue cargo pants. His boots were laced tight, the scowl on his face deep and yet relenting—if only to her.
To her, Marena Kay Panos, attorney-at-law. And lycan, she thought with a start. Marena was now a full-fledged lycan, just like Phelan.
There was a sort of deflation at that thought, a physical one that continued as her nails and teeth retracted, her face felt less full, her shoulders less broad. Marena stared at her hands, lifting one slowly up to her face to feel her human teeth and cheeks. Human, she thought with a sigh, human once more.
“It gets easier,” Phelan told her. “Over time you won’t feel the shift as definitively. Each move will be as natural and seamless as breathing.”
“But I was one of you,” she said. “In those last moments I was a lycan just like you and the others.”
Phelan nodded. “You fought like a lycan—a newbie, of course, but good enough. You’re a quick learner, so the shifting will come to you in no time.”
Marena took a deep breath and released it. “Right, I’ll get used to it, just like I got used to the idea of being bitten in the first place,” she said.
Because she had no choice. There had never been a choice for her in this new development of her life. She didn’t know how she felt about that much control being taken away from her and didn’t have time to consider it now, as Phelan had come to stand in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders and shaking lightly until she looked up at him.
“We need to get going,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon and we should be there before then.”
She nodded her response.
“You can do this,” Phelan told her. “I know that you can go in there and handle yourself like any seasoned lycan. I believe in you.”
Marena blinked at his words, warmth spreading quickly through her body because nobody had ever said those words to her before. Sure, she’d believed in herself all these years, working toward a goal she knew without any doubt she would someday reach, but nobody had ever told her they believed she could do it. Not her parents, her siblings, no one. Until Phelan.
She’d followed him back to the bike, taking the helmet he’d given her at the lodge and placing it over her head once more. Phelan had laced and secured it tightly, keeping his gaze on hers as he did. Then he climbed onto the seat and waited while she did the same. When she slipped her arms loosely around his waist, he grabbed her wrists, pulling her so that her body was flush against the back of his, her arms even tighter around him. She’d stayed that way until this moment, until the bike came to a complete stop and Phelan sat straight up, staring at the building in front of
them.
“She’s in there,” he said solemnly.
“And so is he,” Marena replied. She wasn’t totally sure how she knew, but she did know. Davis Sumpter was in that three-story building with its large tinted windows and straight line of flashing lights around the rooftop.
“This could be a setup,” she continued, her mind thinking and seeing more clearly now that they were here. Now that she was a full-fledged lycan. “The two of them are devious. They’ve concocted this scheme in the hopes of getting you, Blaez’s most powerful protector, away from him. They’ll have someone ready to attack him while we’re here dealing with them.”
That was the endgame, she thought with a start. Divide and conquer had long since proved to be an excellent strategy.
Phelan looked over his shoulder at her, unable to hide the surprise on his face. “They may be devious, but I think they’ve sorely underestimated me.” He cleared his throat then and said, “They’ve underestimated us.”
There was no time to feel any special way about how Phelan had looked at her. It was definitely not the most opportune time to wonder if that burst of hazel in his green eyes was the start of something more than just the duty he’d figured he owed to her in these last weeks. Why she wanted it to be more Marena wasn’t sure. No, that was a lie: she was certain why she wanted it to be more; only now was not the time to explore any of this.
Now, she thought as she stepped off the bike and removed her helmet, was the time to make things right.
They’d walked the few feet to a back door that was already open and Phelan stepped inside as if he’d done this on a regular basis. Marena wondered at that. How many times had Phelan been here with Eureka?
It was dark inside and Marena had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted. Phelan, however, moved with fluency. He’d been here a lot, she surmised with a frown as she walked behind him. They took the steps one at a time, coming to another door, this one a glistening silver that glowed in the dark stairwell. Phelan paused for a second, turning to say over his shoulder, “Stay right behind me,” before he touched the knob and pulled the door open.
Marena didn’t have a moment to take the next step before Phelan was pulled forward and that silver door was closed tight, leaving her in the darkness alone. Instinctively she reached out, letting her palms fall flat on where she knew the door had been. She pounded against the flat surface, yelling, to no avail, for it to open. The cold air came next, sweeping over her back, then coming in such a strong gust that it turned Marena around so that her back was now flat against the access. She gasped at the strength with which she was held to that spot, wrestling with her mind and her gut over what she should do next.
Get through that door and find Phelan, was the first thought.
Stand tall and fight whatever the hell was at play here, was the next.
The sound of nails scraping along the wall and the click of heels along the concrete floors turned out to be the deciding factor. At her sides Marena clenched and unclenched her fists, rotating her neck until it cracked as she stood up straight. She was ready for whatever was coming in the dark.
“Well, now, let me get a good look at my Phelan’s chubby little mate,” the female voice spoke just seconds before a ball of fire appeared to illuminate the area.
The fire was held in the pit of her hand, casting an eerie gaze to her long black-colored nails.
“And you must be Eureka,” Marena said slowly, taking in every detail of the witch . . . or, rather, the woman.
“So he told you about me, huh? Guess that means I made a lasting impression,” she said with her dark-as-coal eyes, pulled so tightly into points at the ends that it looked painful.
Her hair was dark and long, Marena thought as it fell behind her back. Her breasts and waist, hell, her entire body, was small, model thin, and clad only in a black leather bra and skintight leather pants.
“The scar you put on his face speaks volumes of the relationship, without Phelan ever saying a word,” Marena replied.
She’d taken a step away from the door, moving closer to Eureka. The fury expected her to be afraid. Eureka had anticipated the human female to still dominate Marena’s presence and fear of the unknown being in front of her, taking control. She was dead wrong.
“Oh, he told you about that, too,” Eureka replied with a shrug. “Well, you know what you humans like to say: ‘All’s fair in love and war,’” Eureka quipped.
“No,” was Marena’s response. “All I know is that I’d never hurt the one I professed to love. I’d never damage him in such a way that he’d remain in conflict even through the days that I was not with him. In other words, I’m not a sore loser like some of us . . . ah . . . beings tend to be.”
Eureka tossed her head back and laughed. “‘Sore’ being the operative word,” she said seconds before tossing that ball of fire directly at Marena.
Marena was moving before thinking, her legs lifting from beneath her as she jumped upward, her nails grabbing onto the walls, feet doing the same. That ball of fire whizzed past her back, slamming with a burst of new flames against the door. Jumping down, she landed in front of Eureka and without hesitation reached out a hand to clasp around the fury’s neck. She squeezed tight, pushing Eureka back until she slammed into another wall, the cinder blocks cracking and crumbling with the motion.
“You need to learn that when someone doesn’t want to play with you anymore it’s time to pack up your toys and go home,” Marena said, tightening her hold on Eureka’s neck.
Eureka’s eyes bulged fleetingly before she was sinking those vicious nails of hers into Marena’s arms. Marena growled, her grip lessening on Eureka’s neck momentarily. That was long enough for the fury to shake herself free and send Marena falling down that last flight of stairs at the same time.
The tumble was brutal against Marena’s body, but she still managed to jump up at the landing, squatting down so that her nails now rested on the floor, her head lifting to stare up at Eureka, who stood at the top of the stairs. In seconds the fury jumped down and Marena leapt forward, catching her in the air. They tussled and banged against the walls, going down another flight of stairs and slamming hard against the floor at the bottom. Eureka came out on top and was poised to scratch Marena the same way she had Phelan, until Marena grabbed both her wrists.
“You think you can defeat me because you’re a new lycan?” Eureka asked with a sickening smirk across her burnt orange–toned face. “You think you’ve won because you turned out to be his mate and you’re not repulsed by his face or his demons? You’re not shit!” she yelled into Marena’s face.
Marena didn’t cower from the flames that had appeared in the center of Eureka’s eyes; nor did she give a damn what the fury was saying to her. All she knew was that she needed to get this bitch out of her way so she could go and find Phelan, because they were definitely working the divide-and-conquer angle. She knew that now without any doubt.
Pushing back with all her strength, Marena bent Eureka’s wrists until she heard cracking and Eureka screamed out in pain. Marena was fast when she released her wrists, reaching around and gripping her by the hair. Jumping up, Marena swung the fury to the side, slamming her against the wall once more.
“I’m a lycan, bitch!” Marena spat as she felt herself shifting, her teeth elongated, strength multiplying.
She slammed Eureka into the wall again. More concrete rained around them at the force and Marena released the fury, loving the sound of her howling in pain.
“That’s what I want you to remember,” Marena said, looking down at her. “That I’m the chubby new lycan that took Phelan away from you,” she told her finally before grabbing her by the neck and turning until there was another cracking sound.
In the next moments there was quiet. The cold ceased, the fire was gone, and Eureka lay dead on the floor. She remained still until her body shriveled up and turned to a pile of dark ash. Marena backed up then, her hands shaking, heart throbbing, at the reali
zation that she’d killed her.
She had actually taken a life.
The building vibrated around her once again, giving Marena something she’d have to ponder over later. Phelan was up there alone. She had to get to him, had to help him, if it was the last thing she did.
* * *
Phelan had turned to the closed door, cursing because Marena was left on the other side of it. That was only allowed to last for a second, because in the next moment he was grabbed from behind by thick claws digging into his back.
The pain had the beast within him breaking free instantly and with it all the strength of the lycan Phelan normally tried to restrain. With arms outstretched he bent slightly, then lifted back with a horrendous growl that shook the walls and released the hold of the beast behind him.
Phelan turned quickly, knowing exactly what he would see at this point. Davis Sumpter with his distorted lycan face, marred by black tar-like marks. His nails were long and jagged, his body thick and solid.
“So you’re the bastard that’s taken my scent away from her,” Davis said, balling his fists and growling back at Phelan. “She’s mine to claim!” he yelled.
Phelan only shook his head, not the least bit intimidated by the lycan’s growl or his words.
“She was never yours,” Phelan replied. “They knew that when they enlisted your help. Just like they knew how your part in this would play out.”
Davis shook his head, long strands of wispy hair shaking at his shoulders. His eyes were the same lycan blue as all the others’, but they were marred by thick black stripes, ones Phelan had seen before.
“They set you up the same way you thought you were setting me up,” he told Davis. “You were a pawn and now it’s time for your part in this to be over.”
“Fuck you!” Davis said, tilting his head back to growl once more.
Phelan knew what was happening. If he did not kill Davis, the hounds of Hades that were already in his blood would. He must have been bitten himself at some point, probably how Zeus had gotten the lycan’s attention in the first place. The god would have had his brother’s hounds inflict the wound, then shown up and appeared to save Davis from it. Not only rescuing the lycan but offering him a chance at leadership as well. Davis, the greedy, self-absorbed bastard, would have fallen for the lure like a pro. He would have done Zeus’s bidding without question, biting Marena and making it all but impossible for Phelan not to find her. She was his mate after all; the Moirai had told Zeus that, so he knew that the two would be united eventually.