The sneer peeled his chalky lips back. “You think to intimidate me? I have already proven my skills, you pathetic excuse for a witch. The council has no clue as to my powers. They fear my dominance so much, they send the likes of you and your boyfriend to control me.” The wind gusted. The florescent lighting flickered in a frenzied display.”
Meagan laughed, the sensation easing some of the tension of the moment. “How entertaining,” she quipped. “I didn’t know you were an actor too. Cut the charades, Sultan. Are you coming quietly, or do I have to get physical?” Moving closer, she blanked her mind.
The Sultan glared from his spot near the hall.
She slipped in close and reappeared. “Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.”
The Sultan jerked as her chill brushed his cheek. The body he possessed quivered. “You leave me no choice,” he growled.
Two things happened within that second. Meagan reached inside the bra of her mortal body and drew out the horse tranquilizer.
The glint of the blade the Sultan pulled from his robes flashed in her eyes.
She plunged the syringe into his neck as the blade in his hand pierced her chest.
Time slowed. Hearing faltered. Breathing stuttered. If she tried to return to her body, she would surely die. There was no one to save her. Meagan staggered back. Her spirit struggling to remain in the room. This wasn’t the way she’d imagined leaving this world.
She fought to remain. Hoovering over the scene, she soon marveled at how calm she felt. No longer concerned, she drifted as the euphoria took hold. Below, the body of the Sultan slumped to the floor. She could hear the last beats of his heart ticking away. Her own body felt no pain. None whatsoever. Strange the way things worked, she mused. Perhaps, his soul wouldn’t escape this time, and they’d be rid of him for good.
Dorran’s voice came to her from nearby. He had come, she thought smiling, so glad he had come.
Chapter 24
Panic, bright and vivid, clouded his eyes. No air got through. Dorran stumbled like a drunk man toward her lying there in a pool of blood. So much blood. Automatically, he laid his fingers against her neck. Her pulse came back erratic and weak. Tearing off clothe from the Sultan’s robe, he staunched the wound. Gotta move, his brain screamed. Gotta get help.
J.T. flanked him, and Duke was right behind him. Time – no time to save her. Dorran fought the chocking sensation as he laid her in the van, his thoughts careening into one another. So much blood. “J.T. hold that on her wound.” His voice hitched. “The bastard hit an artery. If I do compressions, she’ll lose blood that much faster.” Unable to take his hands off her, he whispered, “Come back, Meagan, come back.”
“Let me.” Duke gripped his arm. He took over breathing into her mouth. The pain Dorran saw in his face matched his own. There was no doubt. “It’s too far back to the farm even for flight. We have to do something!”
J.T. nodded. “Dorran, you know what has to be done.” He looked at Duke. “You have to share your blood with her. It’s the only way to slow the blood loss. The reanimation will work. You know this.”
“Do it. Do it now.” Duke’s words came to him quietly.
Dorran glanced from one to the other. “She’ll be a…”
“She’ll be alive, Dorran. Do it now!” Duke snarled his impatience edging through his words.
Dorran took her arm in his hands, cradling her wrist. The pristine skin glistened with a pink hue. His Meagan, his lifeline, his love. He closed his eyes and sank his teeth into his wrist. The coppery taste filled his mouth, trickling down his throat. He sucked, allowing the blood to pool in his mouth. Leaning in, he met her lips with his own. Slowly, the blood entered her mouth, leaking down into her throat. He repeated the process several times, always careful to share as much as he could with her.
The world seemed to stop. The fact, Dorran couldn’t get a response from Meagan tore his insides to pieces. Reanimation would take time. Dorran feared too much time.
A hand came down on his shoulder. J.T. squeezed. “That’s enough for now. The blood is clotting. A good sign. Rest.”
Looking up, he realized they were headed home. His heart hurt. His mind hurt. His soul hurt.
***
Twirling in place, Meagan giggled like a school girl. Her hair had been pinned about her head in a tousle of curls. She looked exuberant, light-headed, and marvelous. The wine had flowed, the food had magically appeared, and the music had played. Dorran watched her dance around the room like a fairy goddess bent on an incantation. How did he get so lucky? By the gods, he felt whole for the first time in a long time. Going forward, he viewed their future together as the best thing that could happen to a werewolf with vampire blood for fuel.
Jerking, Dorran sat up. The dream kept rewinding and playing over and over in his head. He saw her as she had been that night – it seemed like so long ago – even though it had been no more than two nights. Anyway, he saw her in all her exuberant energy dancing around and around and around. He shoved at his hair. The days were melding together. He had gone from praying to pleading to anguishing over the woman that remained unconscious beside him in that bed. The woman fought. Meagan still fought, but he could not decide on which way she would go – on to her maker or back to him.
Aubrie stepped close, looking at Meagan unconscious beside Dorran in the bed. “She’s doing her best, Dorran. The battle is one she must face alone.”
“I did this to her.” He gazed up at the auburn-haired woman standing beside his chair. A quiet calm radiated from her.
“No,” her eyes held him steady with an empathetic gaze.
“As surely as if I put that knife in her chest myself, I did this to her.”
“That’s not true.” Duke stood in the bedroom door.
Dorran turned to see him, Duke’s stubble dark against his pale skin. The shadows of strain beneath his eyes spoke of the lack of sleep he’d had – they’d all had since returning. “You saved her. Without your blood, she wouldn’t have made it this far.” He stepped closer, his hands shoved in his front pockets. Staring down at the girl he’d done his best to protect from harm, he shook his head. “Now, she had to make the decision. How badly does she want to return? It’s her race to run, Dorran. We have to let her run it.”
He huffed out a shaky breath before peering at Duke through the moisture in his eyes. “I don’t need your damn cowboy logic. She’s gone because of me. I can’t get her back, don’t you see?” He stood and faced Duke. Unable to communicate more, Dorran shook his head and headed for the door.
Logan met him as he crossed into the living room. “She fights. It’s a good sign. The mingling of hybrid and witch’s blood is a tricky thing. We have to be patient.” Reaching out, he laid a hand on Dorran’s arm. “We have to give her time.”
The pain welled up again. Ripe and raw, it stabbed at Dorran’s heart. “You don’t understand, do you?” He dropped his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to see.” Striding toward the front door, he stalled out and turned. “The whole reason the Elders were driving me so hard to complete this mission is that I screwed up so many others. I’m fucked up and can’t be fixed. Meagan…” He swiped at his nose. “She’s better off without me. I can’t save her or myself.” The door clicked behind him as he pushed forward with no idea where he was headed.
Chapter 25
Meagan’s birthday came with little fanfare. The Sultan had not returned to whisk her away for his evil purposes. Though surprising to them all, the Elders had shown compassion for her condition and didn’t force the issue of verifying the Sultan was eliminated. Nor had Dorran come back. J.T. told her that the only thing he’d said before getting on his Harley and riding away was tell Meagan I’m sorry.
A light breeze lifted the stray hairs she hadn’t been unable to scoop up off her neck. The knife wound was healing but not at an accelerated pace. This concerned Logan and the others. They focused on healing rather than arguing over the how.
Meagan glanced out over the
deck rail to Aubrie and Logan’s valley. Not even a goodbye. Dorran had disappeared without a word other than that damn message delivered by J.T. What was she to think? He obviously didn’t care enough about anything between them to at least hang around and make sure she was okay. True, time drug on as her body struggled with the wound and the blood and the shift into a hybrid. She now had Dorran’s blood inside her. A small miracle Logan said. They could do little more than keep her comfortable during the change. Being a hybrid was something so new, even Shadow Company was left without comprehending what to do for her.
She had struggled. Meagan had fought to return. The one thing driving her was who was waiting for her. In her mind, she waged a war of resistance against any outcome except the one where Dorran came back to her. Now, her heart ached. No, it hurt all the time, even when he wasn’t in her thoughts. She reached up to rub away the nagging pain of lose. She recognized the symptoms too well. A person made an effort to function but ended up running on autopilot most of the time. What else was new?
“Hey there.” Katie stood in the doorway to the deck. “Want some company?”
Smiling, Meagan sat up in the chair. “Yes.”
“I brought you a coffee.” Katie smiled. Setting the coffee down in front of Meagan, she sat down across from her in the matching Adirondack chairs. “Are you comfortable?”
Meagan nodded. The smile was for Katie’s benefit. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble. I could have made coffee.”
“I know, but I was having some, so I wanted to share.” Smoothing her hand down the length of her hair, she leaned back, resting against the chair back. The sun stirred the strains of Katie’s blonde hair into spun gold. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. Wonder what kind of trouble we can get into today?”
Meagan shifted to follow Katie’s search of the scene afforded them. “You know I can manage, Katie. You don’t have to keep hoovering.” The glance in her friend’s direction was brief.
Katie flipped back her hair and straightened. “You think that’s what I’m doing?”
“Always direct.” Meagan cut her eyes toward Katie. “Aren’t you?”
Katie shook her head and studied her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry if that’s what you think. I thought we understood each other. That’s all.”
The comment stung. “I see that I’m a perfect ass.” Meagan inhaled a breath. “Forgive me, it’s just a result of so much happening. Then, there’s the fact, he hasn’t returned.”
Katie's mouth tightened over Meagan’s assessment. “It’s not you, Meagan. He’s…”
The niggling feeling of losing wormed its way up Meagan’s throat. “He’s gone for good, isn’t he?”
Katie firmed her chin. “Yes and no. He’s gone, but it’s my opinion he’ll be back, chere. Duke and the others think so too. It’s just a matter of when.”
Meagan nodded into middle-distance. “I wish I thought so.” She straightened the throw across her legs. “Tell me something, Katie. If you had to do it all over again, given the difficulties and trials, would you fall for Duke knowing what you know now?”
Katie studied her. The nod was slow to form, but strength bloomed in Katie’s reaction. “Yes, without hesitation. He’s part of me, Meagan. Without him, I’m…adrift.”
Meagan listened. “I feel adrift.” Dropping her head, she sighed. “How do I…? Dorran obviously doesn’t feel the same way I feel. Or, wouldn’t he be here right now?” She rushed on. “I mean, he left before I even woke up. I almost died, Katie. You know that’s the truth. My reasons for coming back centered around him. Why didn’t he stay long enough for me to declare that?”
Katie smiled. Reaching over, she squeezed Meagan’s chilled hand. “Sometimes, chere, the male species needs a thump on the head. They see things in such black and white lines. No two ways about it, Dorran is a head-strong male. The fact that he’s Irish does not help his cause either.” She laughed. “As a woman, it’s your job to enlighten him. If you want answers, then you must ask the questions.” She examined Meagan thoughtfully. “Healing will come from facing him head-on. The truth will set you both free.”
Meagan’s mouth curved up with the notion of a good ole’ fashion confrontation. “Katie, you’re the best. Thank you.”
“Anytime, chere. Anytime.” Katie squeezed Meagan’s hand and stood. “I’m going to make us some brunch and go in to the pharmacy. Aubrie filled in this morning, and now I need to relieve her. “Since I’m not supernatural, I’m limited, but as the healer, anything I can do to help you, I will.”
Smiling, Meagan watched as Katie disappeared inside. “At least now, I have a goal,” she whispered aloud. “Whatever the outcome, it will be done.” The pang of despair flickered in her chest. “Face the facts and live with the consequences,” she breathed. She would wait until she was certain everyone was gone. Then, she’d do what she had to do.
***
Dorran breathed in the air of another crisp early spring day. His coat of ebony fur glistened with dew. The journey had been long. He’d managed to reach the last place where they had encountered the Sultan without incident – the warehouse. Somehow, that fact didn’t set well. Too easy. Inside the warehouse, he crept silent as mist. Dark and dank, the structure resembled any other structure along the river bank. The tainted air of fish mingled with the musty smell of moisture that hung like a shroud over everything gave him an edgy sense of foreboding.
Coming to the room where the women had been housed in preparation for transport, Dorran slowed. The body of the guard had been removed. Other than that, the disarray left in the wake of their departure remained. The Sultan’s body was gone from the hall too. Dorran expected as much. The Sultan’s second would clean up any mess left behind. Wondering what body the evil one had taken following Meagan’s attack, he hesitated.
It was long enough for the blow to hit him squarely in the back of the head. Dorran crumpled like a stone, his werewolf senses fried by the attack. Blinking, he saw a shadow approach before the lights went out.
***
The room swam with the pain in his head bearing down on his senses. The warehouse, his brain reminded him. They were still there.
“So good of you to join us, Mr. O’Hare.” The Sultan’s form hovered above him.
The headache throbbed with each heartbeat. Dorran squinted into the bright lights shining in his face. The Sultan’s image blurred before coming into clear focus. Glancing down, he realized he’d shifted, or the Sultan had drawn him back with magic. Either way, he had more of a functionality with strength to match the bastard sharing a smug smile with him. “Might have known you weren’t dead.”
“True, tales of my demise were premature. I couldn’t leave without one more try at making the Chosen One my own. Did you know? She’s on her way as we speak?” The Sultan’s brow arched in question.
“What did you do? Tell Meagan where you were? You set a trap for her just like you did all the others. You bastard. You’ll regret hurting those women. I promise you. You’ll regret it before I’m gone.”
The Sultan shook his head. “I appreciate the effort. But you won’t stop me. You can’t, Mr. O’Hare. You see, the Elders have instructed me to take care of the Chosen One.” He waited as that information sank in to Dorran’s gray matter. “Since you’ve been unable to fulfill their request, I took it upon myself to intercede on your behalf. When Meagan gets here, I personally will deliver her to the council. Is that clear?”
“Like glass. There’s only one problem with that plan. Meagan won’t go.”
“Oh, she’ll be persuaded, I assure you, Mr. O’Hare. Mark my words, she will.”
Dorran’s vision wavered. His eyes weren’t able to focus which surprised him. “Don’t go making predictions if you can’t back them up, Sultan.” He was reminded of the stories of torture Shadow Company had shared with him.
The Sultan threw back his head and laughed.
Dorran’s temper was gaining momentum. If that bastard laid one finger
on her, he’d have his head on a spike, which was a perfect idea anyway. “I’ll slit your throat. Make no mistake.
Within the blink of an eye, the Sultan yanked him up by the hair and put a blade to his jugular. “Like this, hybrid?”
It took his foggy brain a full half second to catch up. “Go ahead, you bastard. I’m as good as dead anyway. You can’t stop us all. The others will hunt you down and make you wish you were already dead.”
The Sultan yanked his head back further to peer into Dorran’s eyes. With the dagger in his hand, he plunged it into Dorran’s chest, missing his heart by only inches. Twisting the blade, he smiled as he watched the agony form on Dorran’s face.
“Do your worst, Sultan.” Dorran’s breath came in pants. “You’ll lose, you piece of shit.”
***
Her heart almost stopped. She’d heard his heart beating and followed the sound. As Meagan watched the scene playout in front of her eyes, she was reminded once more of her lack of control. The Sultan’s arm lifted. She had only half a second to respond. The bolt knocked the Sultan back but only a step. The smile that crept across his face sickened her. Blurring into space, she materialized in front of Dorran’s body, now crumpled on the floor of the make-shift torture room. Blood spread in a rapidly forming pool around his upper body. When the Sultan started forward again, she threw up her other hand. The jolt ran up her arms and sizzled around her shoulders before hurdling through space toward the monster.
“Your skills are improving, my dear. I shall be most happy to add your talents to my repertoire.” The laugh, filled with confidence, bubbled out with each volt of electricity she pumped into him. This was getting her nowhere. Still, she had to protect Dorran. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something. Like a bird, or…a bat! Excitement filled her chest. J.T. had come. Thank the gods. She didn’t know how long she could continue to hold the Sultan at bay. Flashes and threads of light flitted up behind her aggressor before his lights went out. Or, so to speak, she mused. No passing go for the Sultan. He sure as hell wouldn’t be collecting two hundred dollars. No way. Her heart tightened as J.T. appeared as the bat and then stood before her as himself. He waved a leather clad bottle in front of her. “Got him, the dirty bastard.”
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