by C. M. Owens
Power hums in my veins, begging to be unleashed, and with one, effortless motion, I rise to my feet. All the memories have slammed back into me, but unlike last time, I’m not huddling in a corner.
No more tears.
They don’t have any power over me anymore.
You can’t kill someone if you’re afraid to face yourself in the mirror, and I’m not afraid now.
“Bitch has crazy eyes,” one idiot says.
He has no idea.
Deciding I have something much more pressing to handle than four pointless humans, I start walking toward them. My dark smile only grows when they step out to block my path, smiling like predators instead of shrinking back like the prey the truly are.
I don’t bother slowing down. With barely a flick of my wrist, they’re yelping and soaring through the air, crashing against the wall. Before I even turn the corner of the dark alleyway I managed to land in at some point, I’ve dusted their memories.
Now they think I just kicked their asses for twenty minutes. They’ll also spend five days thinking they have to piss with their mouths.
Should make for some interesting times.
Glancing down at my jeans and pink T-shirt with a heart in the middle, I realize I’m not exactly cut out to be scary in this attire. I look too… sweet.
My jean-clad legs change ever so slowly, and I watch as the denim turns to leather—red leather. The change continues upward, shrinking the shirt until it’s just a small top, exposing the flesh of my stomach and the top swells of my breasts. Soon the pink shirt is nothing more than a small, black tube top.
Much better.
I taste his blood in the air, and excitement buds within me as the familiar feel of death tugs my strings, goading me to do its bidding.
This is going to be fun.
Chapter 25
ROSLYN
Feeling him close, I materialize in the center of the woods. The sounds of wild chirp, buzz, and growl into the night, serenading me with a hint of ominous. It’s calling me to join in, begging me to play with them.
Soon.
“The wolf pup has come to play.” The voice echoes through the woods, each syllable sounding as though it’s coming from different directions.
He definitely gets brownie points for his creepy factor, but it’s wasted energy on me. I’m not afraid this time.
“Having fun, Slade? Always heard that you were a fan of your head games,” I tell the air, waiting for the monster in the shadows to show his face.
The sun is working on hiding behind the horizon as it sets, barely visible through the thick woods. And I hear him rustling the wind, apparently having a flair for theatrics.
“The big bad wolf get her head back?” he asks from behind me, his voice clear enough to let me know he’s in form now, and I whirl around to face him.
His wicked smirk tilts his lips, and I take in the tattoos and scars that cover his bare arms. His tight, sleeveless, black shirt and black jeans let me know he came dressed for intimidation, too.
Then again, I don’t picture him wearing a pink shirt with a heart on it.
“Yeah, my head’s back. I remember everything now, including you trying to kill me and the others. I thought I’d come to return the favor.”
His laughter is abrupt and wild, but a small smile tugs at my lips.
“You’re going to kill me? You seem to have forgotten to bring help. You know as well as I do that you can’t take me, Roslyn. But then again, I doubt you have any backup. Especially if they know what you really are.”
He props against a tree, casually crossing his arms over his chest as his taunting grin grows.
A knot forms in my throat with the way he says that, but he can’t…
“They know what I am, in case you don’t remember.”
He smirks, seeing the small break in my exterior.
“We both know that’s not what I’m talking about, so don’t start playing dumb with me right now, Ros.”
The memories I wanted buried try to emerge, but I hold it together. Barely.
“How long did it take? A year and a half? Weak, pathetic little wolf. That’s all it took to break you.”
My hands start to shake, and I take a step back, suddenly not feeling so badass and confident. How the hell does he know?
He pushes off from the tree, toying with a small stick in his hands as he takes one leisurely step toward me.
“What happens when your big bad boyfriend finds out? Think he’ll just turn his back on it? That’s a very powerful circle you’ve fallen into, little wolf. A very powerful, self-righteous, deadly circle. You think they’ll still be protecting you when they find out all your dirty little secrets?”
He takes another step forward, and I move back one. I really don’t like this little game.
“It was survival,” I whisper, saying aloud what has been playing in my head since it happened. Even after the memory spell, I heard that phrase whispered to me in the shadows of my mind.
“Oh?” he asks, taking another step toward me. “Not even two years, and you suddenly felt the need to do whatever it took?”
My anger surges, and I fight down the wolf when she tries to scratch free to shred him. I didn’t come here to die. I came here thinking I was killing the enemy—someone who wanted me dead for being what I am.
Not someone who knew what I’d done.
“Fuck you,” I growl, sounding more animal than human. “You have no idea—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, little wolf,” he says with thick condescension, but I catch the hint of bitter anger hiding in the undertones.
Immediately I regret the words, because I know better, but I’m so used to saying that.
“Three centuries, wolf. Three, long, painful centuries I endured more than you ever even dreamt of. My scars can’t be covered by magic. Yet you think I should have sympathy for someone who couldn’t even make it a year and a half?” Another step forward for him, and another step back for me. “Guess what. I don’t. Big surprise, I know.”
His eyes flash silver, reminding me of his power. Memories flash through my mind. Memories of them dragging me past his cage numerous times by my leash. Memories of him staring at me with disgust.
He knew. Somehow, he knew. They swore no one would ever know.
“Good for you. So glad you were that strong. I’m the one who has to live with how weak I was. But it’s over now. We’re out. And I’m not—”
“That makes it all better then?” he interrupts, a cold chill to his tone. He laughs softly while walking to the side, shifting the angle we’re standing at, and I move to keep facing him. No way in hell am I taking my eyes off him.
“Nice clothes by the way. I bet the boyfriend hasn’t seen them. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here planning on killing me before I told him all your nasty little secrets. You never told me what you think he’ll do when he finds out.”
The marks I didn’t pay much attention to before flash through my mind. The marks Karma has. The marks Kimber has.
They were both stuck in the hell rings at one time. I don’t know for how long, or if they got out before or after the rings were broken up. Somehow, I don’t think it will matter.
At least I don’t recognize either of them, which means—
“Putting the pieces together, dark girl? Figuring out why your boyfriend would slit your throat with his own claws?”
He pauses, letting me stew in the angst as he moves to the other side, still keeping a wide space between us.
“I hesitated at first—that day in your house. I’d only ever seen you in wolf form, and though Kya swore it was you, I wasn’t convinced. You had no strength, made no attempt to fight me off with magic… Obviously that gave me pause. I was going to show mercy—make it swift—but you didn’t fight back like I knew you could. Little did I know there was a spell on you.”
The more he talks, the more my guilt ebbs and makes way for my anger.
“You’re no better
than me. You think you’re the only one who knows secrets? Tell me, how’s your brother doing? Did you make good on your word?”
In the very next second, I immediately regret that because I’m flying backwards, smashing through trees, and desperately trying to catch a breath as the pain consumes me. Dad always said to watch my smart mouth if I wasn’t ready to fight.
Crying out, I push his force away from me, even though it’s so damn hard.
“Ought not talk about things you don’t know anything about, little wolf,” he drawls, not sounding anywhere nearly as furious as his outburst proves he is.
“That works both ways,” I say through painful strain, struggling to stand back up.
“You know, immortal doesn’t mean impossible to kill, regardless of what the humans seem to think.”
With one final push, I shove his power back enough to throw up my shield, even though I know I can’t hold it up for very long. It’ll have to be long enough.
“So you bully your way through the immortal world, thinking you really are a god just because of your fey classification?”
Before he can answer, I throw out my own attack, slicing through my shield and smirking when his eyes widen in surprise. He’s knocked backward, feet over head, but my damage is minimal in comparison to his.
To a normal fey, I’d have almost killed them with that hit.
But I don’t need power; I have quantity.
Blue streaks chase me, but they crash into my shield, cracking it. Shit.
One after another, I throw silver streaks of power, lashing out as quickly as I can. But the agile bastard keeps dodging all of them, moving toward me until he’s suddenly slamming into my invisible shield, breaking through it as though it’s not even there.
I don’t even have time to gasp before a hand is clamped around my throat, and I’m being shoved against a tree with my feet dangling off the ground. Shuddering, I look down into the murderous night stalker blue eyes that are full of resolve.
“Killing you with magic just wouldn’t be as much fun as choking the life out of you with my hands.”
The power hums harder, fighting off the stupid trick he’s trying to use.
“You know that nifty paralysis thing night stalkers can do to witches?” I say through strain, half choking, but then I feel the spark of energy racing through my veins, feeding me, begging to be released. “Doesn’t work on me.”
His eyes widen seconds before I push forth silver balls of power, and it slams into his chest, sending him sailing backwards and crashing through more of the forest as we leave chaos in our wake.
Landing on my hands and knees as I choke on air, I stare at him, watching him, waiting for him to make his next move. I’ve always done better on defense. But before he can strike, the hair on my body stands to attention.
I’ve tasted their blood. They’re coming. They’re coming now.
Their presence washes over me with a sickening feeling, and I spin just in time to catch a blood starved night stalker as he launches himself at me. My hand grips his throat, and with a quick twist, I snap his neck.
But there are so many more.
Slade’s litany of curses sound in the air, and I spin to see him fighting off three at once. Deciding to cheat, since he has the advantage normally, I release one hell of an energy ball, sending it sailing at his back.
At the last second, he spins, and the ball crashes into one of the mindless beasts, disintegrating it. Slade risks a glare at me, only dividing his attention from the swarm of deadly killers for a second, before shredding ten at once with one, blindingly blue burst of power that I have to shield against.
They’re everywhere. Coming in from all angles. But our fight isn’t finished, so we keep thinning the herd so we can resume.
I’ll die before letting him near Thad again, and Slade’s thirst for vengeance will have him chasing me.
Slade grabs my hand, helping me leap over one set of them, and I slice through the air, spinning and tossing out power to wipe out at least five. Their screams fill the night, dredging up memories better left buried. But I force them down, keeping my mind focused on now instead of the past.
Slade disappears, but reappears behind me, putting his back to mine as we take on the hoards.
“How fucking many are there?” he growls.
“They’re turning others,” I tell him, pushing more silver orbs out, killing anything in the path.
“These are all blood starved.”
I forgot I have more knowledge of these beasts than him. Not something I’m proud of.
“When they turn someone, the bitten becomes feral just like their sire. They’re like a nasty disease meant to chase the population out of Pine Shore by destroying the food supply for normal immortals. That’s what they were starved for. This plan has been in the works for centuries. One of these assholes turns into hundreds within months.”
He curses, lashing out more and more power. Between the two of us, they don’t stand a chance, but their numbers are fucking horrifying. So many humans. They’re slaughtering them and turning them into monsters.
“That’s why they’re running in packs,” Slade growls. “It’s massive covens; the spawns are hanging out with their motherfucking sires.”
As he works it all out, I dig deep, searching for more power, feeling it build in my core. It continues to mount until it’s ready to explode. I was saving this for him, because I know it’s the only way I can kill him, and it’ll drain me, but these things can’t run free and keep killing.
I don’t warn him what’s about to come. I’m hoping it’ll take him and them out at the same time, even though I doubt I’ll be that lucky. It won’t be concentrated enough to kill him, but maybe it’ll slow him down, giving my smaller bursts of power a chance to do some damage.
The seductive pull of the magic beckons, and I finally let it erupt, bursting out of me like hell’s wrath. My eyes shut as it launches free, and I hear numerous cries of agony.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My quick-paced heartbeat drums in my ears, rivaling the volume of the screams. The wind stirs fiercely, rushing against me as I keep my eyes screwed shut, letting the power do its worst as I concentrate on every presence I feel.
I’ve had every original blood-starved night stalker’s blood, so I feel their spawn just like I feel them. I taste their pain and their death, feel their fears and misery, and I feed off it.
Something wet trickles from my nose, and I know without looking that it’s blood. Too much power. I’m using too much to stay conscious for much longer, but not even one can escape. And I know that even though this state of concentration leaves me vulnerable to Slade’s next attack, I know I can’t stop.
A deafening roar splits the air, tingling all the way down my spine. But I hold still, refusing to lose the hold I have on them as more and more magic flows from me, weakening me to the point it’s hard to stay upright.
“You don’t want to face me, mate,” I hear Slade saying, apparently talking to the mindless beasts. Idiot. They don’t understand him.
Forcing my concentration to remain in place, I tune him out. I tune out everything except for the whispers of the earth as it keeps me balanced. Pain slices through my side, but I just cry out instead of moving, knowing I can’t keep this up much longer.
They die or I die. That’s the only option.
Chapter 26
THAD
My eyes have moved everywhere, seeking and searching. My heart is in my throat, but I haven’t seen even a glimpse of her. Zee’s Hummer comes into sight just off to the side, and I glance over the top of it to see something that stills my heart completely.
Storm clouds have formed, and I watch in disbelief as what’s left of the sunlight disappears, listening to the crackle of thunder that comes out of nowhere. Only something as powerful as Drackus could be doing that.
Zee’s brakes slam on at the same time I do an immediate directional shift. Rain starts pouring down, weighin
g down my wings, but it’s not enough to slow me down. It’s not the storm that has us both racing toward the woods; it’s the light.
Silver light crashes as blue orbs slice through trees, both exploding into the air like a firework show of dominance. It’s loud and wild, and that means that son of a bitch found her.
I’m moving so fast that everything around me turns to a blur, and my vision becomes a tunnel, zeroing in on all the action below. I dive low, moving at warp speed, and start shifting on descent.
By the time I see the chaos around me, my feet are hitting the ground, and I’ve shed my feathers for fur. My wolf’s howl bubbles in the back of my throat, but I hold it back as my eyes widen on the scene.
There are so fucking many of them—blood-starved, psychotic, hungry-as-fuck, mindless night stalkers. And most of them are screaming in pain or vaporizing to nothing, as streaks of silver light up the forest.
Pure silver energy rolls off Roslyn, and it’s almost hypnotizing. More and more of the savage monsters fall, but my eyes are mostly aimed at my girl and the son of a bitch behind her.
Blue surrounds him—acting like a shield—as he shoots out his orbs toward the blood-seeking creatures. When his eyes find mine, they narrow, and I see his intentions before he even makes a move. I move toward him, but one of the silver streaks hits my leg, and a roar of pain tears from my throat.
“You don’t want to face me, mate,” the arrogant asshole says as I side step another streak, careful not to feel the burn again.
It’s like a laser obstacle course that makes this look like a Mission Impossible sort of setup.
Just as he turns, I say to hell with caution and leap, spiraling through the air. Roslyn’s cry of pain sounds in my ears just as I get my jaws locked on his shoulder, taking him down with me.
“Fuck!” he yells as his body crashes through one of her beams.
His skin sizzles, and his leg comes up, managing to kick me square in the stomach and launch me off him.