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Clash Of The Covens (Calder Witch Series Book 3)

Page 22

by Martha Woods


  I follow their movements through the drops of blood that are left in their wake. I can tell that Vincent is trying to keep the fighting away from me while Elric pushes towards me. I’m the weakness.

  “Don’t hold back,” I whisper, because I don’t have the ability to speak any louder. “Please stop thinking about me.”

  For the first time, I feel something brush against my mind; maybe it is because the loss of so much blood has weakened me, but I believe Vincent is there. His presence in my head is not invasive, it is warm and soothing. A strange comfort, as if he has taken me out of this hellhole to someplace warm and clean and safe, where I can wash away the blood and grime. There is a promise to take me there, no words spoken, just a vow to make up for all the pain he has caused me.

  The fighting intensifies as the vision fades. I relax back against the chair, my pain still with me, but dulled somehow. And then I feel someone cutting at the straps that hold me in place. I open my eyes, and Damon is in front of me. He’s sweating, out of breath from running.

  “You found me,” I murmur.

  “You just…vanished. But Vincent smelled your blood and took off after you. I’m not as fast,” he says. I can hear the defeat in his tone. He touches my cheek, removes his shirt and places it on the wound on my neck. “Amy, I’m so sorry.”

  Then he is pulling away from me and now that his shirt is gone, I can see how heavily armed he is. Various weapons are strapped over his chest, secured around his waist, bound to his forearms. Somehow he is able to track the blurred movements of the fighting creatures, and he pulls out one of his guns and takes aim at Elric. The gun goes off, and my ears hear nothing but ringing as the sound reverberates through the sewage system.

  For a moment, Vincent and Elric pause in their fighting. Vincent is holding a gleaming silver sword, and I’m happy to see it is Elric’s hand that is missing. But Vincent is severely wounded – It looks like Elric’s claws have sliced halfway into his neck. Elric’s clothes are shredded to pieces. He is drenched in vivid red blood. I can’t tell if more of it is his, or mine, or Vincent’s.

  Damon fires another round into Elric, missing the heart, and Elric charges at him, only to run into the steel force of Vincent, who pushes him against the wall. Elric claws at Vincent, and I see bone where there should be flesh, but Vincent is unflinching.

  “Hurry up, hunter. I can’t hold him for long,” he snarls.

  Damon pulls a silver dagger from one of the holsters on his pants. He moves with the grace of a mountain lion before slipping between the two. Quickly, he plunges the silver into Elric, who lets out a wolf like howl. Vincent lets go of him, and both men stand back. I watch the werewolf scream in agony before his body slowly becomes lifeless.

  The figures of the murdered girls start to vanish. I watch them wave to me, their bodies reconstructing themselves into what they looked like before they died – beautiful, young girls who had lives, futures ahead of them. Jane smiles sadly at me as her form vanishes from sight.

  Strong arms scoop me up out of the chair. The chest I am leaned against is cold, and I look up to see Vincent, who looks frightening, hurt badly enough that he can’t pretend at a human form.

  “You need a hospital,” he says, though I can feel the want in his eyes as he looks at the open wound on my neck.

  “And you’re not in the best condition to take her,” Damon says, sword drawn and placed against Vincent’s throat.

  “Correct. I must feed,” and he stares at me longer than I’m comfortable with. I put a weak hand over my neck to cover the wound. “You’ve lost too much blood, Amy. Don’t fear from me. I have enough control to lead both you and Damon to the nearest hospital.”

  “Maybe I should carry her,” Damon says.

  “We will move quicker if I do it.” And I feel Vincent’s arms holding me closer to his form, as if he does not want to let me go, as if he wants to make sure I’m still real and alive.

  “Let’s not fight, and just get on with it,” I say, resting my head against Vincent’s chest and closing my eyes. I feel so dizzy.

  Vincent walks fast but not fast enough that Damon can’t keep up. We turn corners in the tunnels, splashing through the gunk before stopping at a ladder that leads up to the real world. It is here that Vincent hands me over to Damon, with some reluctance, to push the manhole cover away. He takes me from Damon again and crawls up, setting me on the sidewalk outside a hospital. He presses his lips quickly against mine, sending a wave of unwarranted pleasure through my aching body.

  “Until we meet again, Amy,” he says, then he jumps down into the sewer. Gone as if he was never there.

  Damon comes up the manhole, shuts it, and picks me up, walking towards the hospital. I don’t know what he did with all his weapons, but he only has a gun at his side. I suppose walking into a hospital fully armed wouldn’t be the greatest thing in the world. My head falls against his chest, listening to his beating heart and taking comfort in how alive it feels. My eyes close and I can’t help but welcome the darkness that overcomes me.

  Epilogue

  I stay in the hospital for three days. I’m not sure what story Damon told them of how I got the marks, but the doctors don’t ask me many questions. My neck is stitched up, and the holes in my stomach get staples. There will be a scar where the cross burned into my skin.

  Everyone but the person I wanted to see and thank comes to see me during my stay. Vincent keeps away, but I can’t help but hope that I will be able to see him again. I don’t even get any mysterious flowers that will let me know he visited my room or at least checked up on me.

  I move half my stuff into Damon’s apartment, my own not feeling safe or mine anymore. I don’t know yet if I’ll stay there for good, or if I’ll rent a new place of my own. But for now I am glad to be with Damon, to fall asleep and wake up safe in his arms. Rick finds me an instructor to help me with hand-to-hand combat, but Damon begins to train me as well, to defend myself against the supernatural. I’m not going to become a hunter, I know that much, but he wants to make sure I am prepared if the need to defend myself against what goes bump in the night ever arises again.

  I go back to working as a forensic investigator, but suddenly my job seems less satisfying than before. I am still proud of my work, and I know that I do a lot of good on the police force, but something is missing. I’m not saying I want to be a superhero, and it is nice not having nightmares, but I have scars now that tell stories. I have been touched, and there is no way to return to normal after that.

  Especially not when my boyfriend comes home scratched up and bleeding from some fight with the undead. He never tells me the stories but on those nights, I can see the horror in his eyes. Damon hasn’t closed himself off from me, but he is still unwilling to share his nightmares.

  I guess that’s how some relationships work – there is always something to keep hidden. I am not sure exactly what I feel for Damon, but I’ve never felt so connected to another man before. I have never felt so safe and wanted, even though he doesn’t have the time to take me out dancing.

  And I hide things from him as well. There are nights when he was gone that I do sneak back over to my apartment and wait. I expect to see Vincent return, remembering how sweet his lips felt pressed against mine in front of that hospital, and the promise he made me.

  Bonus Book 2

  The Alpha’s Return

  Martha Woods

  © 2017 Martha Woods

  * * *

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

/>   For permissions contact: bookpublisher@protonmail.com

  Chapter 1

  The darkness was his friend, keeping him hidden from sight as he sprinted through the woods. Gigantic paws hit the ground with thuds, muffled by the soil. The wind brushed against his thick, gray fur. He felt free. This was the only time he felt this way, running in the night in his wolf form. At times like this, he could temporarily forget about his responsibilities and simply be a part of nature; a part of the night. Smaller animals scurried to their hiding places, avoiding the huge predator zipping through the forest.

  The wolf inhaled long and deep as it ran. Liam smiled within as the fresh air filled his lungs. This was what he had missed about Boulder Junction: the acres of forest, the freedom to run wild, and the fresh air. Other than that, he wouldn’t mind never seeing the place again. It was where he had grown up and the place that he had finally escaped when he was old enough. Family duty had forced him to return and it seemed there was no escape this time.

  Liam came to a stop in front of a river. He stood still for a few minutes, resting on his haunches as he stared out across the dark water. He always enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest at night. The only sounds audible were the sounds of nature. His ears perked up when he heard something that didn’t quite fit in with the natural sounds. Footsteps, hushed by dirt and leaves, approached him. The feeling of danger coursed through him, sending him on high alert. More than likely, it wasn’t someone merely out for a night stroll. Not at midnight and certainly not in these woods. He sniffed the air, catching a whiff of an unfamiliar scent.

  A low growl rumbled in his chest as he got up and padded back into the safety of the bushes. He didn’t want any trouble and he really didn’t want to kill anyone so soon after arriving back home. Liam let out a sigh. So much for a peaceful night run, he thought.

  He treaded lightly, careful not to make a sound. All he had to do was make it back home undetected. Stealthily, he moved through the woods, listening for any sign of his unwanted companion. There was silence. Had the person turned back? With any luck, whoever it was had taken caution and turned back. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of danger. His sense radar was always on point. But it was just a human, right?

  Stories of werewolf hunters that he had heard of as a child suddenly flooded his mind. It was the eeriness of his current situation that brought on the foolish memory. He had always thought hunters were nothing more than myths because he had never seen one. Plenty of stories about other wolves’ experiences were heard - which had to have been exaggerated, he was sure. Wolf shifters were powerful, cunning creatures. There was no way a single human with a sword could take one down. And that was always how the story of the hunter went: a human, wielding a sword, taking out a wolf three times his size. Ridiculous.

  The farther Liam walked into the forest, the more he should have felt at ease. He was sure he had put a good distance between him and whoever had been approaching from the other side of the river, but he still felt like he was being watched. His golden eyes surveyed the surrounding area. There was no one or anything in sight. His moderate pace then turned into a full out run.

  Then he heard the footsteps again. They were approaching him at a rapid pace, going almost as fast as he was. So whoever was in the woods with him wasn’t human and it definitely wasn’t a fellow wolf. For a second, he considered stopping to confront whoever – whatever – followed him. It could be a vampire on the prowl. But they were rare in this area. They avoided small towns.

  If he stopped then he could have a midnight snack. His wolf loved the idea of fresh meat, but Liam shoved down the craving. He was sure he could outrun his pursuer. Suddenly, something whizzed past his head.

  What the hell?

  He looked ahead to see an arrow lodged in a tree. His eyes widened. Was he being hunted? Could it possibly be the hunter of legend on his tail? It was hard to believe but he wasn’t taking any chances. He decided not to lead whoever it was to where he lived. Liam knew the forest like the back of his hand and he used that to his advantage, making sudden twists and turns and confusing trails of paw prints. Hopefully he would lose whoever it was. He moved tirelessly until the footsteps could no longer be heard. He smiled, knowing there was no way his mystery stalker could keep up, even if it was a hunter.

  Liam closed his eyes, held his muzzle up, and inhaled deeply. The scent had disappeared and there was once again silence. He waited a few minutes before heading back in the direction he had come from. The tree that the arrow had lodged in came into view. He went closer to study it. There were strange markings along the wood, markings unfamiliar to him. He had to get it home. Maybe his housekeeper could tell him what they meant. The woman loved strange things like ancient languages and artifacts. She was a bit peculiar but if she didn’t bother him, he wouldn’t bother her. Plus, she was one hell of a cook.

  Liam used his teeth to pull the arrow from the tree trunk. He was surprised to see that the tip was made of silver. His blood ran cold. The arrow was meant to kill him. If it had hit him, he could have kept running. Unless it had lodged in his heart… then he would have been a goner. Did someone know who he was or was it just coincidence that someone attacked his first night home?

  * * *

  Cayden walked toward his truck, wearing a deep scowl. He slid inside and threw his bow down on the passenger’s seat and slammed his palms against the steering wheel with aggravation. He had the abomination in his sight but he lost him deep in the forest. He needed to get better at the hunting these things if he was ever going to find the beast that killed his father. He pulled up the sword strapped to his thigh and ran his fingers over the curved blade. He stared down at it with reverence. It was the weapon that had been in his family for generations.

  Pain and anger ripped through him. He wouldn’t be holding the blade if his father was still alive. He let out a breath that he had been holding tight in his chest. He didn’t want this life, the life a hunter. His father had always shielded him from the strange world he was meant to be a part of until he couldn’t hide him anymore. Cayden had a curious nature and had wondered about his father’s strange behavior, all the secrecy and lies that had driven his mother off.

  One night he had decided to follow his father to see where he went almost every night. Now though, he really wished he hadn’t. Hidden in the bushes, watching his father, confusion had muddled his mind. The only rational explanation to why his father was lurking in the woods with an arsenal of weapons was that he had to be hunting wild animals. Then something had jumped out of the bushes. It was a man with red eyes and abnormally sharp teeth. To his amazement and absolute terror, the man had transformed into a beast right before his eyes‒ a wolf-like creature, only much bigger.

  A teenage Cayden had watched, transfixed and too afraid to move as his father battled with the creature and ended the fight by the taking the beast’s head off with the same blade he held now. That night had changed his life forever and pulled him into a world of darkness and death. His father had known all along that he had followed him into the woods. He figured it was time for Cayden to know the truth about his family lineage. Imagine his shock when he discovered that he came from a long line of hunters. Throughout history, his kind traveled around the world maintaining order and protecting humans from all magic and supernatural creatures. That explained his father’s sporadic, long absences.

  Cayden was stronger and faster than most humans, able to handle himself in a fight with a werewolf, any kind of shifter, a vampire, and the list went on. Of course, he refused to accept his heritage and left home and all the craziness when he was nineteen. All he wanted was a quiet life, a nice, safe desk job, and maybe a wife and a kid or two.

  He remained estranged from his father for years. Finding out that his father had been killed a year ago, he had finally assumed his title as hunter. Guilt and pain drove him to find the shifter that killed his father. Maybe if he had stayed and hunted with his old man, protected him, he would st
ill be alive. He’d always thought it was less than smart for one person to hunt alone. There should be a team of men and women working together. The best he had done was check up on his father every once in a while, but he chose to stay away for the most part. The last he heard, his father was in these very woods, hunting a pack of shifters and one of them had killed him.

  Cayden set down the blade. He vowed that it would be the weapon he used to end the shifter when he found him. Tonight, he had hoped to get his hands on one of the creatures and torture him or her for information, then kill the abomination of course. He had been close, but the wolf was fast and had the advantage of knowing the terrain.

  No matter. He would remain in town until he accomplished his mission. In the meantime, he would take out as many abominations of nature as he could and hone his skills. He started his truck and drove off, easily navigating his way through the dark with his enhanced vision. A shadow of a smile hovered on his lips. He may not be thrilled about what he was but he was going to have a grand time in Boulder Junction wreaking havoc on all the creatures that went bump in the night.

  Chapter 2

  Skylar ducked into her car. Her heart raced and her breathing came out in short huffs. How had they managed to find her? She had been careful, laying low since she found out that she was a target. Letting out a frustrated growl, she checked her rearview mirror and reversed. She didn’t even know what she was being targeted for. But she had a pretty good idea why. No doubt her father had something to do with it. If he would just answer his phone, she could at least know what he did, and to who this time.

 

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