“Castro,” I warned, stepping between him and Richard.
I pushed on my uncle’s chest where blood oozed from several gashes splitting his shirt and skin open. He hissed, but the pain got his attention and the blanket of emotions gave way to the oppressive heat of the growing fire.
He met my eyes and I flicked my gaze to the men around us and then back to him. “Now isn’t the time and this place isn’t going to hold up much longer, we need to get everyone out of here—go after Ella.”
He drew in a slow breath, nodded once and stepped back. I turned and glared at Richard—the man who’d hurt my mother, killed my father and then lied to me. There was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t—not yet.
He’d played his cards too early and lost. I wouldn’t make that same mistake.
“You can’t protect her forever,” Richard snarled, his anger flushing his cheeks.
The house groaned in an ominous warning. I met his gaze without flinching and stepped into him. An underlying current of urgency whipped through the room, self-preservation telling the hunters and my family to get the fuck out of the house before it collapsed. I focused on Richard, on the pleasure I got as he backpedaled to keep distance between us. He was afraid—as he should be.
At my sides, I curled my hands into fists and fought not to throw a fireball at his head. Two hunters moved through the darkness like shadows—on their way to intervene, I was sure—but my brother was there to block them.
My voice was low, a rough whisper. “You made a big mistake coming here tonight. I suggest you leave before something happens to you or your men.”
Richard puffed out his chest. He appeared mindless to the fact he was now outside, the wind blowing the thin strands of his hair over a bald spot on his head. “Are you threatening me, boy?”
“You bet your ass I am.” All of the beatings he’d dealt me over the years surfaced. The times he’d gone after Eli when I hadn’t been around to absorb our so-called father’s anger. Screams filled my head, Richard’s words playing on an endless reel of hatred. You’re weak. A pussy. A brat. A bastard. Your mother was a whore. You are nothing.
I shook off the near-paralyzing hatred. In my gut I knew Richard would get exactly what he deserved in the end. “I’ve only got so much patience and it’s been a really shitty night. Me and you,” I pointed between us and infused my voice with as much venom as possible, “we’ll finish this at the trial.”
I was going to hammer the last nail in his coffin and spit on his grave. Anticipation had my blood surging, a quick, pounding tempo.
Shadows passed through his eyes. He reeked of desperation and sweat. Pathetic. I couldn’t wait to expose him as the abusive, manipulative fuck he was. We stared at each other, me not backing down, him buckling under the weight of my demon and my conviction. I let a slow smirk curl my lip, knowing I’d won this round.
“Move out!” Richard shouted.
Eli wrapped his hand around my arm and pulled me to the side as the squad followed their orders. The house dissolved into chaos—men assembling into formation, chunks of ceiling falling to the ground and the loud pops and cracks of wood submitting to the flames. Dante and Castro shouted at each other over the roaring whoosh. Through it, I never broke gazes with the man who’d made my life a living hell.
I stepped out of the oppressive smoke filling the house and into the pre-dawn night. Wind gusted and streamed over me, soothing the heat pulsing inside. The agency hunters piled into black SUVs and sped down the driveway, the red glow of taillights disappearing from sight.
“Now what?” Hannah asked through a cough.
I turned at the sound of her voice and drank her in, grateful Ella hadn’t snapped her neck. Black soot stained her face, mixing with what looked like one hell of a bruise at her jaw. Dante stood beside her, blood dripping from his forehead. Eli and Castro, side by side, both looked the worse for wear. Behind them, the Victorian went up in a dramatic blaze of flames that shot into the night sky and whipped in the wind. The house almost completely engulfed, I couldn’t muster any sentimental reason to try to salvage the house.
“Castro, the files for Ella’s trial—are they still safe in the Vault?”
He nodded and peeled off his ruined jacket and shirt, exposing vicious claw marks ripping his skin open. It looked like he’d been attacked by a pack of dogs.
“Where are the rest of the Fenrir?” Eiven had left some of his wolves behind—creatures Ella had control over.
Castro’s nostrils flared. His jaw tightened. “Dead.”
No time to ask how or why. I closed my eyes and tried to think of where Ella would go. The sun would be up within a matter of minutes, not that she’d be concerned about it. Travel time was a non-issue for Ella. I paced, my boots crunching over the snow-covered ground.
Anger surged as the answer hit me. Oh, I knew where she’d go—somewhere she had absolute power. To Julian. To Eiven. Men who’d do anything for her—to her—when she asked.
I came to an abrupt halt and stared at the violent flames. They mirrored the battle inside me. Would Ella fuck the wolf? Rage consumed. She would. The woman who’d just handed me my nuts wasn’t my Ella, not at all. My Ella would have stayed as far from Julian as possible.
I addressed my family. “We’ll find her at Julian’s.”
Eli crossed his arms over his chest. “We need a plan.” He motioned to the house. “You weren’t here, but we got our asses kicked and I have a feeling she was just warming up. Crazy, evil Ella is scary. She got inside my head, dropped me to my knees and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. We aren’t prepared to fight her again.”
I rubbed my palm over the stubble on my jaw and cheek. Every second I wasted here was another she’d be in another man’s bed. I probably should’ve been more concerned with her ripping out hearts and eating babies. The demon didn’t give two shits about any of that other crap—he cared about fucking, killing and vengeance.
Could I, the man, handle her being with someone else? I had no right to hold it against her—but I didn’t think I could.
“Fuck the plan,” I said. “We need to move. Now. You said her soul might reject the body. For all we know, she’s stopping for a pre-dawn snack.”
Castro ran his gaze over me as if studying me, debating on something, before he looked away and stared at the fire. “Micah’s right—the situation merits urgency. We should go after her.”
Hannah nodded her agreement. “To restore her soul we need the Blade of Souls.”
She’d been stabbed with it. If I knew Ella, and I did, she wouldn’t have left it lying around. She’d keep it close. The thigh scabbard perhaps? “She’ll have it on her.”
Eli nodded, confirming my suspicions. “How’d you know that? It’s strapped to her thigh.”
“I know my woman. Soul or no soul, Ella would never leave a weapon that made her vulnerable lying around for someone to use against her.” I looked up to the lightening sky. Frustration consumed me. Not only did she have one hell of a head start, she wasn’t going to just hand me the blade. “This phazing business is bullshit. She isn’t going to let us get close.”
Dante drew Hannah to his side and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Can you pin her down? Keep her from phazing somehow? You don’t seem to be affected by her the way we are.”
“She can’t get into my head.”
“Because you were meant to be,” Castro said matter-of-factly. “You are two halves of the same whole. Neither is stronger than the other when they tap into their true potential.”
True potential? Sounded like a fucking episode of Ninjago, a cartoon I’d caught Eli watching last week.
“I could detain her, for a second, maybe. But trust me, if she didn’t want to be there—she wouldn’t be.”
“A necromancer,” Castro suggested.
“You got one in your back pocket? Listen. I’m not going to stand here and discuss this while she’s out there doing whatever the fuck she wants.”
Hannah’s face lit up and I latched onto the hope radiating from her. “A spell. I know of one that allows the caster to control the dead. Technically without her soul, Ella’s dead, right?”
I cocked my head at her, wondering if the fight had knocked loose some of her smarts. “Technically. But, Hannah, where the hell are we going to get a witch or a wizard to perform the spell? Roy’s laid up in the hospital.”
Her smile spread in a way I didn’t like. “I’ll do it.”
Dante cupped her cheek and drew her gaze to his. “Darlin’, normally I’d be all for you exploring your badass nature but not with this. Ella wants you dead. I came too damn close to losing you today, and there wasn’t a fuckin’ thing I could do about it. You stay here.”
This could work.
“Shut up a second, Dante.” I studied Hannah. With her eidetic memory, anything she read and saw stayed with her. “You could pull this spell off?”
She nodded eagerly. “I know the incantation—I picked up a Grimoire one day when I was bored a few years ago. As long as I can find the ingredients, I’m good to go. The only thing I’m unsure about was the blood sacrifice it called for—it was kind of unspecific about what kind.”
Castro rubbed his jaw and nodded. “Use your own blood. Roy is a wizard, magic runs in your familial line. This is the best solution.”
“No,” Dante growled, stepping in front of Hannah. “Find another way.”
Eli clenched his jaw as if he wanted to say something. My brother radiated jealousy, something he was going to have to check at the door. Whatever his thoughts were, he kept them to himself.
“I’m doing it,” Hannah declared, the fierce look in her eyes making Dante shake his head in resignation. “Who’s going to stay here and talk to the fire department?”
I turned to the burning house. “Let it burn.”
Eli brushed past me, toward the car. He pressed a hand to his side, wincing with every step. “Let’s go, then.”
I lifted an eyebrow at the pain etched across his face. I caught his arm, stopping him from advancing any farther. Shit, I hadn’t even asked for details about what Ella had done. “You okay?”
He batted my hand away. “I’ll heal. Let’s go get your woman and save her from herself.”
I made it two steps in the direction of my car, Castro’s voice stopping me.
“Micah.”
I looked at him and hoped my gaze conveyed the fact that I was seconds from ripping his fucking head off. I needed to leave five minutes ago. “What?”
Against the backdrop of the burning mansion, streaks of purple and pink crawled over the horizon ahead of the sun’s approach, trapping Ella in place. Somehow this didn’t make me feel any better. Was she above the wolf, or under him?
“Driving will take too long.” Castro drew out a blade and slashed it across his wrist. Blood dripped, smoking where it hit the snow on the ground. “Use a portal. Won’t be pretty, but I can get us where we need to go, or close enough at least.”
Thank fuck. I closed the distance between us and cupped his shoulder, gripping tight to show my appreciation. “You go get the ingredients Hannah needs for the spell and meet me there. I’m going to make sure Ella doesn’t do anything she’ll regret. I’ll stall her as long as I can.”
Castro took the bloody knife and slashed the air, creating a swirling vortex. Electricity crackled. When the hole was big enough to go through, he handed me the blade, hilt first.
“Head in, focus on where you need to be and let your senses guide you. You’ll feel the tug in your stomach. Use your blood to create an exit point. There are better, smoother ways to do this, but we don’t have time, not right now.”
I nodded, wrapped my fingers around the blade. “Should I be worried about a time lapse?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem, not for something like this.”
I looked to my brother and hoped to hell it wasn’t the last time I’d see him. “You know where to go?”
He nodded. “Hannah’s got it. Go.”
I took one step and then paused at the realization I didn’t know how to fix Ella. “Let’s say by some miracle I get the blade from her, then what do I do?”
“Stab her through the heart,” Castro said.
Fuck no. My heart stopped and I replayed the horror-stricken look on her face that was forever trapped in my mind when I’d staked her instead of Julian. One inch lower and I would have killed her.
Oblivious to my reaction, my uncle kept speaking. “The crystal will shatter, releasing her soul. From there, we hope.”
I repeated his instructions, not able to get past it—shove a blade through her heart. Right. No. Problem. Asshole. “And if it doesn’t work?” If I killed her instead of saving her…
He gave one quick, sharp shake of his head. “The Ella you love wouldn’t want to be a monster. This needs to be done. If her soul rejects her body, she’ll go by way of the ash. If the soul takes…well, then you’ll know. Go, we can’t waste any more time.”
In a daze I walked into the void. Could I really shove the blade into her chest knowing there was a chance she might not make it? The air surrounding me was thick and heavy, pulling at my skin with each step, forcing me an inch back for every foot I gained. In the utter blackness, my other senses sharpened. The air was rich with the scents of the earth, as if I burrowed through an underground tunnel. I veered to the left on a whim, zagged right. A subtle pull in the pit of my gut had me putting all my faith in my instincts. I followed the sensation until the gentle pull turned around on itself and wrapped my intestines together in a knot.
Castro said I’d know the spot. Well, here it was.
I slashed the blade against my wrist in one quick move. The pain was a brief flash of heat. Blood welled, dripping across my skin and falling to whatever was beneath my feet. I swept my arm out from shoulder to waist, left to right, as I’d seen Castro do. Drops of blood melted the air, creating a rip. The tear widened into a spinning vortex. I pushed through the crackling web and stepped into ankle-deep snow.
Julian’s mansion loomed before me. Smoke curled from various chimneys, reminding me of the fire raging across town. I checked the sky and blew out a breath. The same light-to-dark hues painted the horizon as when I’d left the Victorian, reaffirming I hadn’t lost much time.
I trudged around the house until I made it to the driveway, stepping through the tire tracks of my GTO. I slithered inside the house, shutting the door quietly behind me as I went. The interior was pitch black and the demon crept forward, just as stealthy as me, to lend me its sight. I thought of the automatic shutters at our place and assumed Julian’s possessed something similar. I pressed against the wall and listened for movement. Had the vampire horde left or were they fucking in Julian’s blood for shits and giggles?
I heard nothing at first except the howling of the wind outside. After a moment, a murmur of voices drifted down a spiral staircase. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to determine the owner’s location. I pulled out my gun and went for the stairs. The Glock’s weight was familiar, something I used as a focus. One at a time, I crept up each step, careful not to make any sound. I held my breath, relishing the burn in my lungs.
Ella’s bored, disinterested voice pierced me and I froze.
“Fuck off, Eiven. I don’t need you anymore. Go take a nap or something.”
She didn’t need him anymore because he’d already serviced her, or she wasn’t interested? I sniffed the air, searching for the scents of sex. I tasted only the lingering traces of blood. The closer I got, the louder and clearer Ella’s voice rang out.
“I swear to fucking Christ, dog. Touch me and I’ll cut off your dick. Go round up your wolves and do something useful, bring me my bitch sister or something else to play with. My pathetic sire won’t be up for hours.”
I inched closer to the door, wincing at t
he loud, echoing creak in the floorboard. The noise rippled out as if someone had belched during a formal dinner with the pope. Shit. I shut my eyes and took a second of complete stillness to hope she hadn’t heard my fuck up. I opened my eyes to find Ella staring up at me, her blue-red eyes supremely pissed off.
Arms crossed under her breasts, she tapped her foot on the floor. “You just don’t quit, do you?”
Eiven stepped out of the doorway and growled—a rolling vibration that lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. Ella hissed. A ripple of power washed out and he stopped moving. Dismissing the wolf, I looked her over from head to toe. Still covered in blood. Still wearing her party dress. My gaze lingered on her thigh, where she kept the blade I needed to save her, or kill her.
I licked my lips and flicked my attention to her eyes. “Not when it’s something I want, no.”
She didn’t seem amused. In typical Ella fashion, she punched me. At least part of her was sticking to the plan.
I didn’t see her fist move, not until it was too late to get out of the way. Pain flared through my face and my head whipped to the side from the force of her blow. Blood filled my mouth, a rich salty tang. I spit out a mouthful to the floor and glanced at her.
Hunger flared in her eyes. I used my thumb to wipe the bleeding side of my mouth before sucking it into my mouth—a half-assed plan forming.
“You’re either incredibly brave or supremely stupid.”
I couldn’t deny a mixture of both. I withdrew my thumb, making sure to brush my cut before offering her a taste. I blinked and she was gone, but not for long. Fingers threaded through my hair, and Ella, now behind me, pulled on the strands to force my head back. She lifted on the tips of her toes and dragged her breasts against my back, letting out a soft moan.
Eiven glared at me, his amber eyes full of a feral possession he had no right to. He curled his lip and I curled mine right back. My muscles flexed, preparing to fight.
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