by Laura Taylor
“Who’s Andre?”
“Oh right. You missed that bit,” he said, almost to himself. “He’s the Council emissary sent to assess you as a shifter.”
Right. Because Dee didn’t have enough problems right now. “Did Tank and Silas send you looking for me?”
Mark tucked her under his arm, letting his coat drape around her as they waited. “Silas did.”
“What about Tank? He’s not mad at me, is he?”
Silence. And then… “Tank’s gone missing.”
Dee pulled back and peered up at him. “Missing?” A cold weight settled in her chest. “You mean the Noturatii took him.” It wasn’t a question.
Mark sighed and stared at the ground. “Yeah.”
“Then we have to rescue him!”
“What we have to do is get back to the Den and make sure you’re all right. Let Baron and Caroline worry about Tank.”
“But we can’t just-”
“Dee! We’re not going to abandon him! But right now, you and Faeydir are both exhausted and you’re freezing. Can we deal with one crisis at a time?”
If it hadn’t been for that desperate kiss a moment ago, Dee would have thought Mark was angry with her, his tone sharp and cutting. But no, she realised, burying her head against his shoulder. It wasn’t anger. It was fear. Fear for her, for Tank, perhaps even for himself, what with the Grey Watch still roaming the forest.
“I killed someone today.” The words escaped without Dee meaning them to, as if the knowledge was too dark and evil to contain.
Mark glanced down at her. “One of the Grey Watch?”
“Yeah.” She wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but when she’d grabbed hold of the two parts of the shifter chasing her and pulled… she’d done something bad. Very, very bad.
Faeydir sent her an image of herself, lying dead on the ground, and her message was clear – if they hadn’t killed the shifter, she would have killed them. The news was not comforting.
Thankfully, Dee had no more time to dwell on the situation as three large wolves bounded out of the forest towards them. In the dark, it took her a moment to recognise them – Baron and John, along with another wolf she didn’t know – but it was enough time to get her heart racing and for her to shrink in beside Mark.
Baron shifted, then pulled out his phone without so much as a hello. “Alistair? Track us with the GPS chip. We need extraction ASAP… What? Yes. Thanks.”
He hung up, then turned to Dee. “Are you injured?” It was Baron in mission mode, curt, laconic and impatient, but Dee knew him well enough to know that it was born of stress, not anger. Baron took his duties in protecting his pack extremely seriously, and for all that she might be safely back in their custody, they weren’t out of the woods yet. No pun intended.
“Faeydir has a few scratches. I’m fine.”
John and the other wolf – presumably Andre – didn’t shift, just paced back and forth, ears twitching, alert for any danger, and Dee noticed that they were both streaked with blood. They’d been fighting. And perhaps that explained why there hadn’t been more of the Grey Watch joining in the fight against her and Mark. They’d been caught up with three elite and very pissed off fighters on their tails.
What seemed like only two minutes later, the dull drone of a motor could be heard. The regulation white van pulled up beside the road, Alistair behind the wheel, and Dee wasted no time in scrambling inside. Mark followed, Andre and John leaping into the back with them, still in wolf form, then Baron took one last look around, climbed into the passenger seat, and they were off.
“Turn the heat up, would you?” Mark told Alistair, trying to keep his tone civil. It was toasty warm inside the van, but Dee was shivering, and Mark was having a hard time dealing with her suffering – even more so now that she was found, safe and well. Before, he’d had the necessary momentum of the rescue to keep him occupied, tracking scents, forming contingency plans, keeping an eye out for wandering humans. It had kept him from thinking too much. But now that they were safe – or relatively so, at least – his imagination had kicked into gear and was tossing out all kinds of fanciful and devastating endings to this little adventure. Dee could have been killed. She could have been re-captured by the Noturatii. She could have got lost in the forest and been left wandering in circles for days. She could have frozen to death overnight. He slid closer to her and put an arm around her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was cold and damp from the snow, Dee’s nose a small icicle against his skin, but he didn’t care. She was safe. She was back.
Once they were clear of the forest, John and Andre shifted, announcing the fact beforehand with a short yip. John gave Dee a short half-smile and sat down, putting on his seatbelt without a word.
Andre gave her a more thorough once-over that had Mark sitting up straighter and attempting to shield Dee with his body.
“You’re the Council emissary?” she asked timidly, and a whole new wave of concerns overtook Mark. He hadn’t really given the situation much thought beyond rescuing Dee and beating the crap out of the Grey Watch, but this was probably the worst possible start to her relationship with the Council. Her first assessment, and she was getting caught up in every possible sort of trouble.
“Yes, I am,” Andre said calmly. “But let’s leave that aside for now.”
“You were sent here to assess me?” Dee pressed, and Andre reached out and gently took her hand.
“We have bigger problems right now, little sprite. You’re not responsible for the Noturatii attacking you, nor for Tank’s disappearance. None of this will be held against you.”
As Mark watched, Dee seemed to sway a little, and her expression went strangely lax. “Okay,” she said, her voice toneless. Good God, had he just hypnotised her?
Without really intending to, Mark snatched Dee’s hand out of Andre’s. At the man’s startled look, he bared his teeth, growled and slid closer to Dee, who remained oblivious to his disquiet.
“I meant only to calm her,” Andre said.
“Don’t touch her,” Mark snapped back at him. And when he thought about it later, he would blame the excessive stresses of the day for his sharp temper. Under normal circumstances, one simply did not speak to a Council assassin in such a tone.
“My apologies. I meant no offence.”
“What did you do to her?”
“A little psychic calming. Just to help her relax. Dee’s been through enough stress for one night, don’t you think?”
Yes… yes, of course she had. “Yeah. Okay. Just don’t touch her, okay?” Mark found himself calming down rather abruptly, which was something of a relief, actually. It had been a very stressful day, and now that they were out of danger… yes, a little down time would be good. For both of them.
Mark glanced up to see John give Andre a sideways look, but the meaning of it escaped him.
The rest of the trip to the estate passed in silence.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
It was after midnight by the time they got back to the manor. Alistair pulled up right beside the front steps, and Dee found herself rather surprised that they were back so soon. She hardly remembered any of the drive back. Maybe she’d fallen asleep for a while?
Mark was out of the van first, helping Dee out, her body stiff and tired, and the other men kept a close eye on her and on the surrounding area while he led her up the stairs into the house.
Once inside, Andre and John quickly excused themselves, Andre disappearing into the library, John heading up the stairs. But Baron lingered in the foyer, giving Dee a close, scrutinising look. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly. For all Baron’s usual gruff nature, Dee knew that the offer was a genuine one. Baron took care of his pack. She’d learned that much.
“I do, but maybe tomorrow?” she hedged. Then she shook her head. “They’re crazy.”
“That they are,” Baron agreed.
“I thought they would be like us. Just wilder and with less rules, but…”
Baron gave her a sympathetic look, and then Dee blurted out, “I think I killed one of them.”
“Hm.” Baron seemed to take the admission seriously, which was something of a relief when Dee had half expected him to dismiss her concern, perhaps with a quip about her distaste for violence. “Generally we try not to aggravate the Watch,” he said finally. “But if they tried to harm you first, then you’re perfectly entitled to defend yourself.”
“But it was…” Dee glanced at Mark, standing close by her side, and felt a sudden reluctance to admit what she’d done in front of him. The strange energy from Faeydir, the ripping sensation, as if she’d torn not just the shifter’s body, but her soul as well. Perhaps the rumours about her were true. Perhaps she was something to be feared. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’m tired, and I need to think about things a bit.”
“Get some sleep,” Baron advised her gently. “We’re not out of this mess yet.”
Dee nodded and allowed herself to be led up the stairs.
Phil sat on a hard, plastic chair, watching the shifter in the cell with fascination. He was big – huge, in fact, tall and muscular, and quite intimidating, despite the fact that he was unconscious. Close cropped hair and combat boots gave the impression of a military type, which was not at all reassuring.
To be honest, this was the first shifter he’d ever seen up close, having spent the greater part of his career in a lab with blood samples and test tubes, rather than live subjects. Of course, they had yet to see the creature shift, the field team having drugged him as soon as he was captured – there was no way in the world they wanted a beast like that loose in the lab – and then he’d been chained to the wall, wrists and ankles cuffed so he could stand up, but that was about it.
He was still out cold, though, and Phil peered up at Miller, standing beside him, looking every bit the military soldier; a mirror image of the man in the cell. He scared the crap out of Phil.
“How much sedative did you give him?” he asked meekly. The animal should have been awake by now, and he was terrified that if something went wrong on his watch – a drug overdose, for example – it would be his head on the chopping block.
“Enough,” Miller said flatly. “Don’t worry. He’ll wake up.”
They’d already taken a blood sample, the lab team setting up for the first experiment while Phil monitored their new captive. He’d got the call mid-afternoon that a live captive was coming in, and it had been all hands on deck since then, the entire lab a flurry of activity, every scientist and security guard called in, despite the fact that it was now well past midnight. Jacob had arrived shortly before Miller and his captive, and the cold glee in his expression when he’d laid eyes on the creature had made Phil’s blood run cold.
Li Khuli had come over for a look and stared at the unconscious man for a long time, before she’d made a sound of quiet disgust. “They’ll be coming for him,” she said with an air of finality. And that was both a relief and a terrifying prospect. A relief because once the shifters made their assault on the lab, this frightening assassin could leave, sent back to whatever gore and chaos was her usual way of life. And terrifying, because Phil had seen first-hand the result of their last attack – dead scientists lying broken all over the floor – and he dreaded to think that that could be his own fate next time around.
The animal finally stirred, eyes opening, a groggy look on his face as he peered around, but there was none of the initial panic that some of their captives had. No desperate struggling against his bonds, no questions about where he was and why. He saw the cuffs, saw the bars on his cage, and locked his eyes on Phil. He sat up, his face totally expressionless. Oh my, oh my, he was going to be a dangerous one.
“You’re going to die,” the animal said, and a cold chill ran down Phil’s spine. “One way or another, your days are numbered.”
It was seven o’clock in the morning when Dee woke up, and the first thing she was aware of was the warm body wrapped around hers.
Mark.
He was tucked up against her back, holding her tightly to his chest, legs curled around to lay against hers.
And then a moment later, the day before came rushing back. The Noturatii. The Grey Watch. Tank. They had to rescue Tank. And she was suddenly wide awake, despite having got only about five hours sleep.
Mark stirred with her slight movements, sighed, and kissed the back of her neck. “Hey.”
Dee wriggled around in the bed until she was facing him. “Morning.”
Mark made a disapproving sound. “You’re worrying already.”
“We have to get Tank back.”
“We will.” He had a strange expression on his face, and Dee’s face fell as she watched him.
“What?”
“We’re going to get Tank. One way or another,” he repeated. “But that means a hard-core battle with the Noturatii. You haven’t seen one of those before.”
“No. What’s it like?”
“We don’t call this a war for no reason. It means weapons. Battle formations. Strategies. Bullet proof vests. A lot of people are going to die when we go up against them, and some of us might be among that number.”
Dee swore softly as the weight of that sunk in. “You’re saying that by the time this is over, one or both of us could be dead.”
“You don’t have to go-”
“I’m not leaving him there,” she said, cold determination in her voice. “I know what those bastards are doing. In vivid, screaming detail. I am not leaving him there.”
Mark nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. “Good.”
Dee hummed in satisfaction. Good to know she was a valued member of the team. But the possibility of one of them dying was very real. And if this was to be one of their last moments together…
She kissed him suddenly, pressing her body fully against him, and was gratified when he responded in kind.
“Baron will be waiting for us,” Mark pointed out, but even as he spoke, one hand was sneaking beneath her pyjama top to stroke warm, smooth flesh, and Dee quickly removed the garment. Mark was already naked aside from a pair of underpants, and throughout long kisses and heated caresses, she gradually kicked off her pyjama bottoms until she was dressed as sparsely as he was.
“We don’t have long,” she gasped out, as his mouth found her breast, and he nodded.
“Then let’s make this count.”
Not quite half an hour later, Dee and Mark were curled up against each other, naked, warm and satisfied. “We should probably get up,” Mark said reluctantly. “There’s a lot to be done today, and-”
“Dee! Outside, right now!” Caroline’s piercing voice filled the entire second floor, and Dee jumped in alarm. A moment later they both leapt out of bed, scrambling around for their clothes. The interruption had been inevitable, and Dee could only be grateful that it hadn’t come a few minutes earlier.
They both dressed quickly, Dee in jeans and a jumper, Mark in the clothes he’d been wearing the night before. She was just pulling on her shoes when Caroline’s fist pounded on the door. “Dee?”
She yanked it open. “Coming.”
Caroline was scowling fiercely, and she cast a dismissive glance at Mark, not at all surprised to find him here. “Move it. Outside. To the front gate.”
“What’s going on?” she asked as they all but flew down the stairs. But as usual, Caroline wasn’t giving anything away.
“Just move.”
Dee hurried out the door, the cold a blast that ripped right through her woollen jumper, and immediately saw the gathering by the main gate. Baron, John and Silas were there, along with half a dozen wolves, all with their hackles up, teeth bared, and just outside the gate there were eight women, grey cloaks covering them from neck to toe.
Holy hell, it was the Grey Watch, a long way from home and engaged in a rather heated argument from the looks of things. Dee rushed over, dreading the confrontation to come, but knowing there was nothing she could do to avoid it.
But
as she arrived, Sempre saw her coming and turned pale, stepping back, eyes wide in fear.
“You keep that creature away from me,” she demanded. “You bring death upon us all, Baron. We’ve tolerated all manner of stupidity from you over the years, but this goes too far. You harbour Fenrae-Ul amongst you. She’ll be the death of our entire species.”
Fenrae-Ul? Dee recognised the Ul part – likely a reference to her wolf, but the name didn’t mean anything. No doubt one of their myths, as Faeydir had been.
Baron looked Sempre over, a cold, calculating look. “What evidence do you have for this claim?”
Sempre nodded to one of her pack mates, who strode over to a white van, parked beside the gateway, and threw open the back doors. Inside was a cage with a wolf in it. “You recognise Rintur?”
Baron shook his head, but Caroline stepped forward. “I recognise her.”
Sempre seemed to soften ever so slightly. “Caroline. It’s good to see you still run. You have magic of your own – use it now to see what harm your Fenrae has done.”
Caroline opened the gate cautiously and stepped forward. “Can she not shift by herself?”
Sempre let out a harsh laugh. “See for yourself.”
Caroline approached the wolf, who seemed confused but not alarmed by the action. She reached into the cage, stroked the thick fur once, then the air crackled and she let out a jolt of electricity-
The wolf yelped, snarled, and backed away into a corner of the cage, but there was no shift, no transformation into a human. Caroline stepped back in shock.
“She has separated wolf from human,” Sempre concluded. “Rintur is dead, and yet her wolf lives on, devoid of any trace of the human who once shared her body.” She turned to Dee, a cold, accusing look on her face. “You harbour death within your walls, and we demand that you put her down, for all our sakes. For your own safety.”
“What does Fenrae-Ul mean?” Dee asked, needing to know just what they were accusing her of. Yes, she had ripped the human out of the wolf’s body, but she hadn’t thought it any worse than killing her outright – and Baron had already excused her for that.