by J. D. Tyler
Disappointment clouded her pretty features. “How much later?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stay, please? Just for a while?”
She knew he was lying. It was there in her eyes, the hurt he’d caused. He could stand anything except being the cause of her pain.
“I have to go.”
With efficient movements, he dressed and left before he could change his mind. He needed time and space to figure out how to get past his fear.
Dammit, Nick, you stupid asshole.
He’d ruined a perfect morning. He’d make this up to his mate. Somehow.
* * *
Nick stalked to Tarron’s office and knocked sharply. He waited for permission to enter before striding inside to find the prince in a meeting with two men—Teague and a vampire Nick had never met before.
“Glad you’re here,” Tarron said with a genuine smile. He indicated the new vampire. “Nick, I’d like you to meet Ian Lockwood, my best friend and right hand for more years than I care to remember. He’s been in England for the past few months, taking care of some personal business, and I for one am pleased to have him back. Ian, this is Nick Westfall, commander of the Alpha Pack.”
“Years? Try a couple of centuries.” The vampire stuck out his hand. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve met some of your team as well and they seem like first-rate warriors.”
Nick couldn’t help but puff his chest out a little as he shook the offered hand. “They are, every single one. They make me look good.”
“The best of men always do,” Ian acknowledged.
Nick sized up Ian. The big vampire seemed openly friendly, and yet Nick sensed a strength about him. A steely determination that hinted he’d protect what was his. Nick didn’t get any visions, but he didn’t have to in order to know the vampire would need that strength in the days to come.
Tarron leaned back in his chair and addressed Nick. “Speaking of our men, some of them went back to the cabin where Calla was held. They’re searching for more clues and will bring us anything more they find.”
Annoyance surged inside him. “I should’ve been with them. I could be helping the investigation.”
“Right now, you’re helping my sister, and that’s more important.” Tarron’s gaze telegraphed just how much weight that carried as far as he was concerned.
Nick wasn’t sure how much good he was doing his new mate, considering, but wisely refrained from saying so. “She’s my first priority, too, which is why I want this bastard of a vampire and his minions found and destroyed. I don’t want them coming after her again, or you, for that matter.”
Tarron’s expression was grim. “We’ll find him and he’ll be so fucking sorry he messed with my family. In the meantime, we need to trust our guys to bring us the information we need to locate him.”
Nick blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re right, but it sucks waiting around. Who the hell is this asshole and why does he have such a hard-on for all of us?”
“That’s the big money question.”
Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Tarron called for whoever it was to enter, and the door swung open. A few of Tarron’s men, along with Micah, Aric, and Nix, strode into the room. Nix was carrying a laptop that he placed on Tarron’s desk.
“We found this hidden in one of the dead hunter’s bunks,” he said. “We’ll need someone with hacking skills to get inside and tell us what sort of secrets might be on there. Hopefully the kind that gives us answers.”
Teague stepped up. “That would be me. Let me take a look and see what you’ve found.”
Those around Tarron’s desk gave him room. Pulling up an extra chair, the computer expert flipped open the lid and went to work circumventing the password-protected screen.
“Most people would be appalled at how ridiculously easy it is to get into their laptops,” he said, without any smugness. “That part is child’s play. The real question is, does the vampire heading up this band of misfits know what he’s doing?”
“In what way?” Nick asked, curious.
“Mainly, will he have taken the precaution of coding his messages and hiding the IP address he’s using as his home base of communications? Will his identity be hidden?”
“Seems like it could go either way,” Nick replied. “He hid his identity on the video, but he probably wasn’t expecting us to locate the cabin, either.”
Teague worked for a few minutes, head down, focus intense. After a while, he grunted in displeasure. “Unluckily for us, he’s not that big of an idiot. The IP address is rerouted several times, so it’s going to take a while to track. His messages to his followers were all done by an instant-messaging program and he used the screen name ‘Executioner.’”
Aric snorted. “That’s original.”
Nick hovered over his shoulder, trying to read the print. “What do the messages say?”
“The spewing of hatred that you might expect. He’s going to make us all pay for what we did, but no mention of what that was. If we knew what he’s blaming us for, it would go a long way to figuring out who he is.” Several others muttered agreement and Teague went on.
“There are plans on here from before he had Calla taken. They were waiting on an opportunity to get Tarron, but seized the chance to get her when it arose. Hmm, there’s some disagreement among the ranks as to whether that was a good idea, especially since that group was caught.”
Tarron’s eyes gleamed with malice. “So, they’re still using this messaging thread to discuss their plans?”
“They were, but shut it down a few hours after Calla’s rescue.” The hacker paused, scanning over the rest of the transcript. “Looks like the Executioner was talking with them about their next strike, when and where it would be wise to carry one out, when one of his men pointed out they should change to another thread because of the cabin raid. Damn!”
Nick couldn’t agree more. Such a good break, only to have it vanish in an instant. “Can you find them again?”
“I’ll try. In the meantime, I’ll trace the Executioner’s IP address, as well as the others on the list, and see what I can find.”
“Thanks,” Tarron said. “And bring me a printout of their conversations before this thread was shut down. Nick and I will read over it thoroughly to make sure there’s no hidden clue we’re missing.”
“Right away, my prince.”
Teague took the laptop and headed out to complete his job. Nick and Tarron dismissed the rest of their men and Nick took a seat. For a moment, they sat in brooding silence before Tarron broke it.
“So, you and Calla have Bonded?” His tone was reserved, his gaze watchful.
“I’ve claimed her.” He didn’t offer more, and the other man’s eyes narrowed.
“That should be cause for celebration. And yet I detect a note in your voice that suggests it’s anything but.”
“It’s not that simple.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I swear to you I’m doing my best to be the mate she deserves. It’s just taking some time. Let me work this out with her before I end up speaking out of turn. This is between Calla and me.”
“All right, I’ll butt out—for now. But mark my words: Friend or not, you hurt my sister and you won’t have to worry about battling some mystery vampire or anyone else.”
“I know.”
“Good. And furthermore—”
The ringtone of Nick’s cell thankfully broke into his new brother-in-law’s lecture. When he glanced at the screen, however, he wasn’t so glad for the interruption. The call was from General Grant, which was rarely a good thing.
“Jarrod,” he greeted the other man upon answering. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a basilisk loose in downtown Dallas, Texas.”
“A basilisk?” Nick repeated. His blood chilled. “Not Belial.”
“No. Mackenzie reports that Belial is safe and sound at the compound, trying to seduce one of those tiger shifters at Sanctuary into sleeping with hi
m.”
Thank God. The thought of the enemy getting to anyone under Nick’s care and thrusting him into danger, forcing the team or himself to kill him, made his gut churn. “Casualties?”
“Five dead, ten injured at last count. There’s some sort of drunken celebration going on downtown because of a big sports win, and now the scene is total chaos.”
Nick shot to his feet. “Fuck, that’s a disaster! We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
He ended the call, mind racing. This was a complete clusterfuck. The one thing they feared more than anything was a paranormal getting loose in a situation so big the entire world would find out they existed.
“What’s wrong?” Tarron asked, rising.
“We’ve got a basilisk loose in downtown Dallas. Five dead, ten injured—probably more by now. Shit!”
He started out the door, Tarron following. The vampire exclaimed, “A basilisk, you said? Those things really exist?”
At any other time, the irony of that statement would have been funny. “We have one living at the Pack’s compound, in fact. Belial is being rehabilitated.”
“You don’t think—”
“No. It’s not him,” Nick said, hurrying down the corridor. “They’re lethal yet solitary creatures typically, which begs the question of how one got deposited into the middle of a championship celebration in one of the largest cities in the U.S.”
“Foul play?”
“That’s my guess. I think someone put him there on purpose, and we’re dealing with a frightened shifter who has no idea what’s happening and is about to become just as tragic a casualty as his victims.” The prospect was a grim one.
“That’s all kinds of fucked-up.”
“Tell me about it. But it won’t be the first time something similar has happened.”
“I don’t envy you that job. Although I suppose I’m involved now, since we’re family, and my warriors will be sent to assist yours.”
Nick came to an abrupt halt and faced Tarron. “No. I can’t ask you to risk your men in battles that aren’t theirs. Your people likely resent our presence enough already.”
“You’re kidding, right? We were allies first and now we’re family,” Tarron said staunchly. “We’re bound and you have our loyalty. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for you, especially after you and your men have come to our aid in a fight that isn’t yours.”
Nick knew Tarron wasn’t going to budge, and relented. “All right. I’m grateful to accept any help you want to send; just know I don’t expect it or take it for granted.”
“Noted.”
After taking a moment to send an urgent text to his team, Nick continued on to the grand foyer in the entrance to meet them. They were fast, as usual, every one of them waiting before him in moments, ready to fight. Quickly, he outlined the situation, much to their shock.
“I’m not taking everyone, in case this is an attempt to make us leave the stronghold unprotected.” He made a fast decision. “Kalen, I need you and your Sorcerer’s talents with us. We’ll need some major damage control.”
“Yes, sir.”
“John, Ryon, Aric, and Micah, you’re also with me. The rest of you stay here and protect the stronghold.”
Tarron chose his men and then turned to Nick. “We’ve been to Dallas. We’ll teleport you to the city to save valuable time.”
“Thank you.” Quickly, Nick tried sending a mental message to Calla.
Baby, I’m sorry but our team has been called out. Your brother and some of his men are going with us. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
He didn’t know anything about shifter-vampire bonding, but he hoped she could hear him the way a human mate could. Even so, what if she couldn’t answer until he’d allowed her to claim him in return? Another thing to feel guilty as hell about, denying her a basic right of mates—to be able to communicate freely.
There was no answer, which could mean several things, none of them good. With a heavy heart, he joined his team and the vampires, psyching himself up for the battle with the basilisk.
“A few last things,” Nick told the group. “Don’t shift. We’ve got enough trouble trying to cover up a mythical snake, much less a pack of wolves and a panther. Next, don’t look him straight in the eye. His gaze will immobilize you; then he’ll kill and eat you. Last, take it alive if you can. We need information.”
“Jesus, as if,” someone muttered in response to the last directive.
Then they were off. Landing, they found themselves in the heart of the city, in someplace called the West End. There were trendy restaurants and shops lining the streets, which were mostly empty except for a few screaming people rushing past, presumably in the opposite direction from the big snake.
“That way.” Nick pointed.
He took off and the others joined him, following the ominous sounds of crashing, and a high-pitched bellow that made his hair stand on end. As they rounded a corner, a terrifying sight met their eyes. The basilisk was almost as big as Belial, but not quite. Even so, it was huge, rearing up high, whipping its great head from side to side, screeching, snapping at everything that moved. A barricade of police vehicles surrounded the beast, the police taking cover, some firing. Their bullets bounced right off the tough hide and served only to frighten and piss it off more.
The beast slithered toward one of the vehicles and slammed the hood with its nose, ripped at the metal with its fangs. The officers retreated, and the snake released a stream of liquid from its mouth, hitting one of the cops in the leg as he ran. The man let out a yell of pain and his pants leg sizzled, but he didn’t stop running.
“To hell with this,” Aric shouted. “Let me torch it!”
“No.” Nick pointed at Kalen. “Can you neutralize it? Put it to sleep or something?”
“If you can distract it long enough for me to work, yes,” the Sorcerer said, eyeing the snake. With a flick of his wrist, his Sorcerer’s staff was in his hand, glowing with power.
“Okay, let’s go!”
Nick led the group down the street and they fanned out to surround the beast. They danced around it on the balls of their feet, waving their arms and shouting to get its attention. They did a pretty good job of keeping it off guard, but it still managed to hit Ryon with its venom.
“Shit! Fuck!” He rolled on the ground, clutching his bleeding, scorched arm with his other hand. A couple of Tarron’s men rushed in and carried him from the line of fire.
Nick pushed his concern about Ryon to the background. Glancing at Kalen, he saw that the man was standing with his arms out, chanting a spell. The basilisk must’ve felt or sensed what Kalen was trying to do, because it suddenly lunged in his direction. Nick and Aric moved to intercept it, Nick palming a medium-sized blade. Rushing in, he drove the blade between two scales and winced as it screeched loudly enough that nearby windows shattered and car alarms went off everywhere.
“Nick, run!” someone yelled.
He turned, but the beast came at him. It slammed him with the side of its head, knocking him clear off his feet and hurling him several yards away. By the time he hit the pavement and skidded to a halt, it was on top of him, head lowering, eyes red and jaws gaping.
Red eyes.
Nick froze in the act of peddling backward, unable to move a muscle. Oh, God. I looked into its eyes. I’m fucked.
Mesmerized, he watched as the beast took one of his thighs in its mouth, clamped down, teeth shredding his skin. He couldn’t move, couldn’t shout his agony as the venom broke the skin and began to move through his blood. Burning. On fire.
He could only watch as it lifted him off the ground, and then dangled him helplessly upside down as he waited to be devoured. All around him, his team and Tarron’s were shouting at Kalen to hurry.
And then the creature stilled. Slowly, Nick was lowered to the pavement until he was lying on his back, his leg still in the creature’s jaws. The basilisk’s eyes drifted shut and its body relaxed in sleep.
“God,”
Nick gasped, pulling his leg to try to free it. “Get it off me.”
People swarmed him, Aric and Micah dropping to his side. Aric gripped his shoulder and spoke in a soothing tone. “Easy, boss. John and the vamps are gonna pry your leg loose.”
“Tell Kalen to wipe the humans’ memories. Everyone he can. Kill the cameras and cell phones. The few that got away, nobody will believe them.”
“I’m on it,” Kalen told him from a few feet away. Then Nick lost track of him.
The pain was incredible. His injured limb felt like it was being boiled in acid from the inside out. The fire spread up to his hip, and he writhed in agony, groaning.
“Fuck.” Sweat beaded on his face, rolled into his hair. The fire reached his chest, and his heart seized. His eyes widened and he met Aric’s worried gaze. “Can’t . . . breathe.”
“Prince Tarron!” Micah shouted. “We need to transport him!”
Hands grabbed Nick, and he was traveling through the abyss. Back in the stronghold, he wished he could lose consciousness as the men rushed him through the corridors. He was dragging air into his lungs by sheer force of will, so hot he was sure he’d fry before the doctor could help him.
The rest came in disorienting snatches. The agony. Dr. Archer, barking orders. An IV being inserted into his arm, several shots of medicine going into the line. There was some relief as the burning lessened. His breathing became easier.
Then Dr. Archer leaned over him and said, “I’m putting you under while we clean out that leg and repair some of the damage. You’re in no shape to shift just yet, and I’ve got to get to those thigh muscles before they’re too far gone to heal. Just relax.”
And those were the last words he heard for a while.
* * *
“Calla? Calla!”
“I’m coming!” As Calla jogged to the door, her heart leapt into her throat. She would recognize her brother’s anxious voice anywhere.
She’d been on pins and needles since Nick’s voice had unexpectedly pushed into her head, saying he was being called away. To hear Tarron sound like that spiked her fear.
Throwing the door open, she felt the blood drain from her face. “What happened?”