It was enough. Joseph shot away from the vampire, his soldiers tearing the other vampire limb from limb, and humanity slumbered.
While humans slept peacefully, the battle ran in the city street, painting it with inky blood.
*
Julia ran alongside the wall, more tired than when she'd been running for exercise. The terror at the possibility of being taken poured an adrenaline nightmare into her body, making her extremities numb with it.
She clipped her ankle on a pallet that was standing upright before she could see it and yelped softly.
She heard a noise behind her, the softest scrape, and put on a burst of speed, her hand leaving the wall.
Julia sprinted, the heat and lack of air in her lungs whistling a tune as she tore forward. Up ahead, she could see a tall fence. Without a backward glance or thought, she grabbed onto the smooth, circular metal fencing and jumped the first row, digging her shoe into the hole and climbing.
Julia didn't hesitate when the first piercing sting of something in her shoulder twanged and bounced.
When the second bit her in her upper thigh as she climbed, tears began to run down her face, the fence design in sharp contrast to the streetlamps beyond. The holes from the fence made shapes on her face, circles of light spearing her as she climbed.
She realized with soft horror that she had begun to climb more slowly.
Julia told her hands to grip the cold metal. Her foot missed the next hole and slipped.
The tears came harder, dripping off her jaw and falling to the ground before her.
She stopped seven feet above the ground with three more yet to finish. The razor wire at the top formed a spiral of hopelessness she couldn't overcome.
Julia's vision began to dim, the grayness of the night encroaching on her. She clung to the fence, her body no longer climbing. Pressing herself against it, she hung on for all she was worth.
As her legs folded beneath her, and her fingertips slipped away, she fell in a graceful arc to the concrete below—to her death, she knew.
Julia didn't react when she heard the excited yelps and yips of the Were beneath her.
Jason was dead.
William was gone.
She was in the same position she had been when she'd started: sole protector of herself.
Julia didn't land on the unforgiving concrete below but in a steel cocoon lined with fur and muscle. She looked up into eyes that shone like liquid gold. Her vision dimmed as she threw up her arm to defend herself in the last way she could before she faded into drug-induced oblivion.
*
Joseph had stared at Julia during the moment of wakefulness she'd had before she sank into the sleep of the drugged. His stony heart had squeezed in response to her weak attempt to defend herself against him. Did she not know that she could not and that there was no need? Joseph gave the signal to move out of the area even as he tightened his hold on the Rare One. They needed to exit. The blood drinkers would come en masse when the others didn't return with the Singer. Their margin for error this night was slim to none.
He ran, the burden of the girl negligible.
Tony ran beside him, managing to carry out the task without a hitch—perhaps a first.
As they passed where they'd warred, Joseph saw the ash and blood lifting in the wind as a light rain began to fall, cleansing the proof of their battle. One troubling thing remained: a single vampire lay undisturbed, covered in his werebrother's blood.
Joseph faltered, debating on whether or not to return and finish him. His experience whispered at the possibility that this one would be a problem in the future. Then he looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He clutched her tighter. Better to fight the devil that you know rather than the one you do not.
He renewed his fast gait, smoothly leaving the city behind for the mountains beyond. They would address that worry if and when it came.
For now, the Rare One would become part of the pack.
The den would be balanced once again.
Joseph would have smiled as a human.
As a Were in his half-wolf form, he lifted his partial snout to the sky and howled a baleful note.
It resonated in the city as they left the buildings of concrete behind, the other Were a symphony in chorus with him.
They ran to the den—to freedom from their warden, the moon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Underground Seattle
William’s abused body struggled to heal even as he debriefed Gabriel and Claire. Their eyes and bodies were dread-filled.
But not as much as he was.
William was so full of self-recrimination he could hardly breathe. A thousand what-ifs swirled in his mind—not the least of which was the elaborate plan the Were had executed. The instant he had stood down and allowed fewer runners for the daily exercise, the Were had pounced.
As it was, when the runners had been sent to find the ones who hadn't returned, only William had been left. Four runners were dead. Only two of the Were had been killed.
They had woefully underestimated the cunning of the Were. They thought them without the intelligence for strategy.
They had been quite wrong. And now, because of assumptions, the Were had Julia.
William had needed the blood of three humans to help him recuperate. Even with that much, a gorge-worthy amount, William was still not at his peak.
Gabriel paced in front of him, wearing a frenetic path in the floor of William's chamber. “It does no good at this point to place blame. It is I who wished for Julia's exercise, for some semblance of normalcy.”
Claire placed a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped. “None of us could have known this would occur,” she said. She pleaded with him to see reason, to not blame himself.
Easier said than done.
“Julia knew,” William said quietly. “She knew what was about. But she was so young in her ability, so new to trust…” He let that last trail off.
It was her newfound trust that cut deepest for William. They'd had a mere week of moving toward the end that he had envisioned all along. And now she faced a situation that was not ordered, but rather, unprotected and unfit. The Rare One would be treated without regard, her abilities and genetic makeup used as a tool to further the dogs.
Of course, she had originally seen the vampires in a similar light. Not that William blamed her—yet. He had never been forthright enough about his feelings for her. He had thought it too soon to regale her with his regard. He'd only hinted at it. Now he wished he had been more bold. He startled Gabriel and Claire as he punched one fist into his open palm in anger, sitting up from his hunched position in the seat of his room.
Nausea and dizziness swirled around him, but he hung on. He would not succumb. He would keep his focus on the rescue of the Singer.
Julia.
His future bride.
*
Julia
Julia woke up slowly, feeling as though she'd been run in the washing machine on the spin cycle.
Like, a hundred times.
She sat up, and her head spun and throbbing pain latched into her temples immediately.
Julia felt like hell, her mouth a sandpaper legacy with a chaser of dragon breath. God, yuk. She slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She was so disoriented she forgot where she was for those few seconds, the pain of her head and acute thirst the distractions that called her attention.
That didn't last long.
The thing that greeted her as the memories of yesterday crashed into her consciousness like a train without a brake was a large pane of glass. A forest beyond stretched without end. Huge Western Red Cedars stretched as far as the eye could see, filling her vision, the sweep of their emerald-green branches caressing the ground with an unseen wind that lifted and moved them in a soundless dance.
Julia looked down at her body. The tracksuit was gone. Instead, she wore a camisole and pajama bottoms. In one of the most surreal moments of her life, she noticed that there were sparkly
unicorns covering the material in the palest blue and silver.
Huh. She was being held by werewolves who had dressed her in unicorn pajamas.
A single tear escaped her eye and made a pathway down her face. The weirdness of her life was making her so claustrophobic she wanted to go back to sleep and never wake up.
A knock came at the door, and Julia ripped the sheet from the bed up to her chin, turning to face the door at the same time.
A girl came through the entrance, maybe about her age but oh, so different.
She wasn't human.
How did Julia know? It had to be those spinning golden eyes, their slow rotations screaming other—or otherworldly.
Julia just stared. It was rude, but at this point it didn't matter. She was tired. She ached so badly that she felt as if she'd been beaten. She waited quietly.
“Hey,” the girl said.
Julia sat there, saying nothing.
The girl fumed and finally sighed. “Listen, I know my brother put the he-man moves on you. I tried to tell them it was the wrong way to do it.” She flung up her hands and started pacing the room. “He's such a pain in the ass! Alpha this, Alpha that. Well, eff that.” She spun on her heel and faced Julia.
Julia leaned away.
She waved her hand in front of Julia. “You don't need to worry about me.” She plunged her hand against her chest earnestly.
Right, Julia thought, doing an internal eye roll. That's what all the supernaturals said. Not worrying had worked out so well in the past.
The girl shoved her hand out for Julia to shake. “My name's Adriana. I already know who you are, of course,” she said rolling her eyes. Julia put a tentative hand out to shake, and Adriana pumped it vigorously.
“This is awesome. Finally, they will quit talking about battles, acquisitions, and all that happy horseshit. I'm so completely sick of all their chest-beating bullshit I could puke.”
Julia did a slow blink, gradually taking back her hand.
She thought Cyn might have been reincarnated in Adriana. Or they were secret cousins or something.
She didn't think Adriana had a filter. No, Adriana didn't have any internal alarm that pinged when she'd said to much or was about to. And… Julia was certain that Cyn hadn't been a werewolf.
Julia ignored all the really important questions, and gulping, she asked, “Are these”—she lifted some of the loose pajama material in her hand and met Adriana's eyes, which were brown for the moment—“yours?”
Adriana nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. You were in some hot-ass jogging getup, so I thought you should be in something more comfortable after being nailed with the juice.”
“The juice?”
“Yeah, that crap they stuck you with that makes you conk out.” She looked at Julia, waiting for comprehension to dawn. Then she frowned and went on.
“Here's the deal. They pegged you with the mega-tranquilizers to get you away from the vamps, right?”
Julia nodded, slightly dazed at the force that was Adriana.
“So, now you've got a colossal headache, and you're so thirsty you could die, right?”
“Yes,” Julia nodded, her thirst roaring back to life at the mention of it.
“You can borrow those as long as you want, and I've got water.” From behind her back, she brought a water bottle. She gave it to Julia, who uncapped it and started to chug it down.
“Whoa, pony. No gulping. My brother'll have my ass if you start doing the psychedelic yawn all over the place.”
Julia gave her wide eyes.
Adriana chuckled and began mimicking what must have been her brother. “I need you to be as disarming as possible, Adriana. Do not do your normal”—she mimed choking herself and went on in his presumed voice—“energetic behavior. The Rare One needs time to transition.”
She whipped her palm around dismissively. “Blah, effing blah. You'll be fine, right?”
Was there another option?
Adriana stared at Julia, taking in her attire, the wild hair, God knew what else.
“Huh. Well, let's get you cleaned up. You look like ass.”
But tell me how you really feel.
Julia followed Adriana as she pushed open the adjacent bathroom door. Definitely like Cyn.
*
Were
Lawrence, Tony, and Joseph were in a heated debate. As usual, Tony was the one questioning each decision.
“I took the Rare One down. She was escaping!” Tony said, his teeth bared in his human form, the wolf peeking out around the edges.
Well, goddamn—bring it, Joseph thought as the muscles of his neck and shoulders corded and bunched in response to the subtle posturing.
“Enough!” Lawrence roared. The Packmaster's face was etched with grim lines of fury
He glared at the Alpha and his first as minutes passed. The moment swelled awkwardly, a palpable pressure building until it was on the verge of bursting. The Packmaster broke it. “Save it for the ritual. That is the time to fight for the Rare One. Right now”—he swung his direct look to Joseph, tense with the fighting instinct—“your sister is with Julia Caldwell?”
Joseph gave a terse nod, thinking of all that could mean. His sister was… willful.
Tony grunted.
They looked at him, and he threw his muscular arms up in the air. “She is not the best at being welcoming. She is the most Alpha of all the females.” He had a look on his face as though to say, Clearly, she is the least mild choice.
“But she is female. That is what the Singer needs—reassurances. Another female will bring her a measure of comfort,” Lawrence said.
Joseph winced. He wasn't sure if Maggie wouldn't have been a better choice. Too late now. Adriana had roared in there like a flaming inferno, singeing everything in her path. He shook his head.
Lawrence shrugged, looking at the two men. “She will not intimidate. That is what the goal is here.”
“She will still hold us responsible because of the dead Singer,” Tony clarified.
Lawrence palmed his chin, thinking. “She may hold us to blame, even if our soldier had not attacked her mate. But much time has passed. Perhaps her love for him fades.” He shrugged. “It does not matter. She is here now, she has not been claimed by the vampire.”
Tony and Joseph exhaled sighs of relief. That would have been an unbreakable bond, her relationship with a vampire negating her abilities to assist them. It had been a near thing. The entire pack knew it.
Lawrence looked from one to the other of them. “She has one month. Even now I smell her readiness—her becoming.”
They nodded. Her presence was at once exciting and unbearable. Lawrence didn't know what it had been like for the blood drinkers, but she was a heady thing amongst the pack.
“Yes, Packmaster,” Joseph said, and Tony chorused the goodbye simultaneously.
They walked away together, their shoulders touching. Soon, it would be fists in the ring, a fight between them and others bringing the den closer to the reality of a moonless tide.
A lone howl broke the stillness of the woods where the den thrived. Joseph and Tony gave a wary look in the direction of the call. Then they turned away, neither commenting on the sound or its origin. It was the call of the feral.
*
William
A handful of days had gone by, and William felt himself again, sparring with some of the other runners. The ones lost in the battle with the Were created a void in the ranks that would not be easily filled. Especially Pierce. He had been a true warrior, responsible for the deaths of two during the siege that ripped Julia from their hands.
William lunged forward, his hands meeting in a destructive vee aimed at the vampire runner who grappled with him. He was met with impervious resistance as their arms collided like flesh-encased steel, the smack of the hit resounding in the acoustics of the underground space. The brick and mortar of the cavernous accommodations echoed hollowly.
Vampires normally took one breath to a hum
an's four, but that was not the case when fighting. Both runnersʼ actions and speed created a blur of muted color as they swung at each other underneath the ambient glow of the skylights that acted as a fractured ceiling of light. The humans that walked the surface lived unaware of the predators that fought below.
“Again!” William shouted as the runner tried to beg off another round. William lost his temper, grabbing his comrade around the throat and jerking him against him, his fists like clamps of unbreakable titanium, buried in the folds of the shirt he wore, tearing it as he pulled.
Suddenly, Gabriel was there, and William straightened. He turned to the runner. “Go.”
The runner left.
Gabriel looked at William, whose chest was heaving, his fists clenched like battle-ready hammers. “Enough. Beating your fellow runners into the ground will not return her to you.” He began pacing, the shadowed feet of the humans above them throwing speckles of darkness over his face as he moved.
*
Gabriel stared at William, half in shadow. He glanced upward at the skylight where the humans walked all day, and sighed. He knew what the loss of Julia meant to the kiss. He could not imagine what the loss meant when love was twisted inside it.
“I understand the loss of Julia may be more—”
“You do not,” William said in a hiss, his hand planted on his hips, his breathing finally settling into the normal rhythms of his kind. “You cannot. I waited for her. I was patient,” he seethed. “And now this!” William threw up his hand. “She is with the dogs now. Being subjected to…” William’s expression was thunder contained.
Gabriel strode to William until their chests almost touched. “We will reclaim her.”
“When?” William asked, his brows falling heavily over his eyes.
“Before the moon comes full again.”
They both understood the significance of the moon's cycle.
The dogs would try for her, the ritual coming full circle. There would be no choice for Julia in their world. The Alpha—whichever wolf killed the other—would be her mate. It was their way.
Uncivilized mongrels.
*
The Feral
The meat appeared again like clockwork, his tortured mind dismissing its grief for the greater need of sustenance. He leaped forward just as the arm retracted through the hole—the only source of light and air in the place where they kept him.
reflection 01 - the reflective Page 112