by Kim Schubert
Blowing out a long breath, I calmed my nerves, blocking out the pain in my leg and focusing all my attention on the task at hand. It wasn’t long before a dark haired shifter launched himself at me.
My body hit the ground with a thump, my head bouncing against the concrete. Warm blood spilled on me from where he had jumped onto my blade. I carved it upward at an awkward angle, cleaving him in two.
Rolling up took more energy and time than I was willing to admit, long enough for a shifter to grab me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides, my blade dangling. I wished for heels as I lifted my good leg up, smashing it down in the hope of finding toes to crush.
His chuckle brushed against my ear and I bent at the waist, trying to fling him over me. He didn’t budge.
“Scream, bitch,” he whispered, before releasing my left hand to dig his fingers into the tender flesh of the bite wound on my thigh.
I hate to admit it, but I gave that asshole exactly what he wanted. The scream tore from my throat as the pain from his digging had my vision completely dissipating. His other arm wrapped around my waist, holding my body up when the pain threatened to be too much for me.
We were both breathing heavily, although for very different reasons. It cost me precious seconds, but I finally regained control enough to braid the pain down and away from my conscious mind, sending it deep so I could fight off the tide of assholes bent on taking Logan’s power.
Not on my fucking watch, assholes.
I passed my blade to my hand no longer under his control. With a controlled cut, I removed his hand. Turning, I grabbed a handful of hair, dragging his head back. “Scream for me, bitch,” I hissed, slicing deeply against his throat, severing as much as I could as fast as I could.
Hopefully, it would be enough to keep him from regenerating. Pulling my gaze back to the fight around me, I found the boys had done their work and done it well. Logan and Hudson were each taking care of a few stragglers when my eyes cut to the left, catching movement.
A shifter was sulking on her stomach, short red hair caked with blood, a syringe trapped between her razor sharp teeth.
“Logan,” I whispered, hobbling to him. Our gazes locked and she sprung up, running at Logan full force. I dropped my blade, pushing my abused leg to propel myself toward him. Pumping my arms to gather momentum.
She could not inject Logan with that beast-making drug. I might have been able to bring Bear back from the brink of insanity, but that was only thanks to Sonny and his magical ring. Well, not to mention my stellar bedroom skills, but I had neither at my disposal while being attacked. I could not lose Logan for the simple fact I would be the one who would have to put him down. I’m sure Darren could forgive a lot, but not killing his brother.
With a final thrust, I lunged for Logan at the same time Red did. He turned, reaching out his arms to catch me. I felt the needle land home in my spine, my eyes widening before she depressed the plunger, flooding my system in raw fire.
I didn’t recognize my own scream.
A shifter threw Logan into a chokehold and we all went down heavily, everyone on top of me. Logan used his arms to keep the weight off of me, but it also meant he couldn’t break the attack. Raw power sung through my veins. Slapping a hand on the offending arm I pushed, trying to replicate my ability to kill with touch.
It worked, and it also lessened the anger and angst rushing through me.
“More,” I whispered, my hand falling away.
Logan looked down at me, confused. My back arched off the pavement as a new wave of rage scoured my insides.
Rolling to my stomach, I army crawled toward the shifter Hudson had on the ground, my leg wound picking up bits of trash and pebbles.
I could hear Logan talking, and I saw Hudson look down at me with a face full of worry and shock before I brushed my fingers against Logan’s victim, flooding his system with raw emotions.
Moving to my back, I panted heavily. “More,” I whispered again, my vision failing me.
“No!” screamed a voice. “Don’t let her touch me. Kill me, but don’t let her do it.”
I smiled, lifting my head to see Mark and Alec dragging the shifter I hadn’t completely beheaded.
“He has her blood on his fingers,” Alec growled, looking at Logan.
I reached out and Mark kicked him in the back of his kneecaps, shoving his face into my fingers.
“Die,” I whispered, watching the life snap out of his eyes. With a contented sigh, I gave in to the waiting darkness.
Chapter 3
I was fairly certain I hadn’t consumed an entire liquor store, but my stomach and head were disagreeing.
“Oww,” I whined, reaching up to cradle my head, my eyes firmly shut against the light trying to pour in.
“She’s up,” Mark said, way too close to my head.
“Shhh!” I scolded, batting him away.
“Olie,” Logan said, his hands gently cradling my head. “We need you to wake up and tell us what happened.”
“The she bitch with red hair,” I started, before my stomach churned.
“Ugh, bathroom,” I demanded. Swiftly I was carried, pressing a hand against my mouth. I was lowered just as quickly.
My eyes opened, seeing the toilet bowl before I retched stomach bile aggressively into its depths. As I leaned my forehead on the cool porcelain, Logan cleared his throat.
I groaned in response, wanting to make a smartass comment about not being able to handle a sick female. Turned out I didn’t have the energy.
“You done?” he asked, flushing the toilet.
“For now,” I slurred, lying down on the cool tiles.
“Olie, this isn’t the best place for this conversation,” Logan scolded me.
Pulling my knees into my chest, I huffed out an answer.
“Sweetie,” Jerry tried, the bathroom quickly becoming crowded, “we need to know what happened to you.”
“What about the redhead?” Logan hedged.
“She was going to stick you with the drug,” I slurred, nestling my head into my arms.
“The drug that Bear was infected with while patrolling Halfling, the same drug used on my opponents tonight,” Alec clarified.
“How the fuck is it here?” Logan asked. Was that the first time I had heard him cuss? He was clearly hanging around me way too often.
“I don’t know,” Alec stated. “But if it’s here, all the shifters are in trouble.”
I grunted my agreement.
“We need to figure out who is making and distributing it,” Logan growled, leaving the bathroom.
“Sweetie?” Jerry asked, resting a hand against my head.
I grunted.
“Are you okay?”
“I feel like I drank a liquor store.”
He laughed softly. “Do you want something to help?”
I gave thought to denying his witchy, or rather mage help, but I was in pain. “Yeah.”
“Give me a minute.” He moved away and I pulled my legs closer to my body.
Logan walked back in. “How did you get injected with it?”
Hudson answered for me. “The redhead was after you, and Olivia threw herself into the crossfire. You didn’t think she was throwing herself into your arms for saving, did you?” he taunted.
“Make me get off this floor, motherfucker,” I warned him.
“Damn, you are in a bad way,” Hudson stated, giving his professional medical opinion.
“I wouldn’t tempt her. She killed three shifters simply by touching them,” Mark warned Hudson.
Hudson gave a low whistle. “How the hell you do that, little lady?”
I felt Jerry come back next to me, stroking my hair back. I moved into the touch. “Can you sit up?”
I gave a pathetic groan. “Let me help you,” he offered, tipping me up, resting my back against the tub.
I cracked an eye open and everyone sucked in a breath, except Logan.
I looked at him. “My eyes black again?” I ask
ed.
He nodded.
“Shifter magic, it always fucks with me.”
“Drink,” Jerry instructed me. I pressed my lips to the plastic hotel cup, choking back the thick liquid, keeping my eyes closed.
I finished and he held a hand over my mouth. “Keep it down.”
My eyes teared at the effort, my stomach clenching to rid itself of the toxic contents. After long moments I exhaled, resting my head back.
“That is fucking amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so. I hate to do this, Olie, but I want to check your power. I know you would rather not explore your magic, but after last night, I don’t think we have a choice. People saw you kill with a touch.”
“How much time do I have before the first meetings?” I asked, not willing to dwell on or discuss what Jerry had just said, opening my eyes and not receiving any freakout at the color.
“You’ve got a half hour,” Logan said from the doorway. “You have a Q&A session with Garrick.”
I smiled before pushing myself up to sit on the edge of the tub, wincing as my thigh muscle protested the movement after being chewed on so recently.
I groaned, pushing again to stand, forcing the pain down. “Everyone out. Sorry, Jerry, but we just don’t have the time right now.”
I turned, not bothering to see if my command was carried out, stripping out of my shirt.
“OUT!” Bellowed Logan.
…
The hot water pounded on the back of my neck and I rolled it again, trying to work out the knots trapped there.
I was mildly successful. Exiting into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around my hair and one around my body, I dressed quickly.
“How am I doing on time?” I asked Jerry. “Where is everyone else?
“Impressive, it must be the helpful mage delivering potions to you.” He grinned, exposing his perfectly white teeth. “They went to their own meetings.”
Grams came around the corner. “We should be leaving now.”
I stiffened. I really wanted to throttle her.
“Garrick will be there as well,” she offered.
“Wonderful,” I muttered. I liked my time with Garrick to be private, naked, and with his expansive selection of toys.
“He sent you over an outfit, Olie,” Jerry said, reading the displeasure on my face.
“Why does everyone feel the need to dress me?” I muttered, looking down at my rumpled jeans and t-shirt.
“Because you do it so poorly yourself,” Grams called after me.
I took the white gift box with the blood red ribbon into my room, slamming the door behind me. So what if that was childish? I huffed, pulling the silky ribbon off.
“Whoa,” I muttered, holding up the navy blue silk pants and matching wrap top.
Exiting my room, I looked for Jerry. “Do I have shoes that match this?”
He looked up and nodded. “Yeah, wow that's impressive.”
He handed me matching silk ballerina shoes, my favorite.
“That outfit would do better with heels,” Grams criticized.
“And your mouth would do better without critiquing everything I do,” I lashed out.
Her jaw snapped up, her eyes meeting mine in surprise. There was only so much shit I was willing to take, and she was dangerously close to hitting my limit. Hard.
“Well,” Jerry interrupted awkwardly, “let's be off.”
Mercer, Ali and Grant came around the corner and we headed out in silence. This time we went up to the Bellagio Ballroom.
The smaller factions, grouped together by races, sat in front of the raised stage. There were a few vampires, I noted. Their glares warned of interesting questions. I certainly hoped they got to ask them.
This group usually needed a little livening up. In the front row, girls and guys openly gawked at Garrick. I shot him a wink across the stage. He smiled and nodded, acknowledging me before smiling adoringly down on his groupies.
Unlike me, Garrick ruled solely. He thought it a weakness to allow others to have a say, even if that might happen behind closed doors.
I just killed those who thought I was weaker, speaking of which, I wondered where Hash was.
I didn't have to look far. He was seated in the middle and I glared at him with a vengeance.
Carefully, he avoided my gaze, but he did meet Grams’s with a self-satisfied smile and nod. I wanted to turn and see if she returned it. But I didn't need to look weak. While there would be no challenges here, that certainly didn't mean they wouldn't come later.
“Olivia,” Garrick began, offering me a mic, “would you like to sum up your past year first?”
I stood and crossed the short distance between us, smiling as our fingers brushed over each other.
Turning to the waiting faces, I thought about my year. I got to fight a reanimated shifter, fall in love, and destroy a demigod and his vicious torture rings, all followed by a broken heart and the destruction of the witches. Not to mention my unnerving ability to be a magical conduit and contact my most feared enemy, the Fae.
“It was an uneventful year,” I announced, taking my time to survey the crowd in front of me.
Hands shot up all over the room and I sighed. Covering the mouthpiece, I turned to Garrick. “Please tell me I don’t have to answer those questions yet.”
He gave me a soft smile. “That would be your decision.”
”Fuck it,” I groaned. I’d rather get this crap out of the way now. “You in the pink, speak,” I commanded.
“How are you recovering from the sex video being leaked?”
My eyebrows drew down in surprise. “Fine, thank you,” I answered, unsure.
She continued, “Do you plan to seek financial restitution from those who released it?”
I smiled. “Financial, no. I’d like to think I’m more creative than that.”
She nodded, giving me a tight smile before sitting down.
“Next, you in the gray.” I pointed at a shifter filling out his sweater exceptionally well.
“When do you and your kind plan to come out to the public?” His jaw tightened. He was clearly not a fan of the rest of the Supernatural Community lying in wait while the shifters and vampires took the brunt of the humans’ wrath.
“I don’t know.” I had to handle this cautiously. One, that was a valid question. Two, he was a shifter, so telling him to fuck off was going to piss off Logan. Wait, did I care about pissing Logan off?
“Shifters and vampires are both organized in ways that protect the weaker members of the clans. The Council is a collection of smaller clans. We have to be certain that all of our members are taken care of before launching into the public view.”
“You’re scared.”
“I’m cautious. There is a difference,” I all but hissed. “It is my job to protect those who depend on me. I take that job exceptionally seriously. I will not do anything that will put them in any danger.”
“Implying that Logan did?” he asked.
“Implying that Logan made the best decision for his packs and his packs are not mine.” I stressed each and every word. “Next question, you in the teal.”
“What is going on between you and Logan?” the twelve-year-old asked me.
“Fuck, I don’t even know how to answer that.”
“Are you going to be a permanent fixture helping him?”
I looked at her, really searched her gaze before asking myself the same thing. The sea of people watched me, too damn closely for my liking.
I bit my bottom lip. “I will stand with Logan until he finds a replacement. My position there is not permanent.”
Logan didn’t need me. I had helped him smooth over the destruction from the whirlwind known as Lorraine, but I was a temporary fix during the transition. Eventually, he’d find a stable, politically correct partner and I would be … done. I tried to pretend that thought didn’t stab me in the gut.
“I’m done, Garrick, you are up.” I handed him the mic and went
to sit down.
It felt bad admitting that I was replaceable, but I wasn’t dwelling on it. Nope, not at all.
Garrick, for the record, was far more eloquent at answering questions.
Fucker.
Chapter 4
I face planted into Logan’s bed.
“It wasn’t that bad,” he assured me, hanging up his jacket.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” I rolled to my back, scooting up to lean against the headboard.
“I didn’t even get to any of the vampires’ or Hash’s questions. I was so busy fielding questions from the damn shifters!”
Logan grimaced, moving my feet to rest on his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. He slipped off my shoe, rubbing the arch of my foot.
I heaved a sigh of contentment closing my eyes. “A twelve-year-old asked me if I planned to be a permanent fixture next to you.”
His hands stilled.
“Don’t worry, I said no.”
His rubbing continued, far more aggressively. I pulled my feet off his lap.
“You will find someone to fill my position, Logan. Just give the breakup time to heal.” I rested my hand on his knee, pushing comfort into him. I knew all about shitty breakups.
He sighed.
“Do you want to stay on next to me?” he asked, turning to face me.
That question caught me off guard. I narrowed my eyes at him, tilting my head. “I don’t mind it, Logan. It has strengthened the relationship between our clans. I like to think it might have helped Darren and Kass. Not to mention getting out some of my very serious anger issues.”
I gently hit his shoulder, adding, “Nothing lasts forever.”
He nodded. “You ready for dinner?”
“Please tell me it’s a buffet.”
It was not a buffet, but at least there was dancing entertainment.
…
I chucked my shoes over in the corner of my room, glad this day was over. But while my public performances were done, there were a few calls I needed to make.
Pulling out my smartphone, I dialed Tommy’s number.
“Yo,” he grunted.
“You sleeping?” I asked, shocked.