by Sam Crescent
Maybe victim was a strong word, since she clearly was a willing participant. Yes, she had feelings for Jordan. Overwhelming lust-filled, body-aching, all-consuming feelings. But was it enough to forge a life over? To give up her humanity and try and live life as some mixed breed, like a science experiment?
These “powers that be” that he spoke of must have had a ridiculous sense of humor. And she would have a thing or two to say to Gaia about this herself. Because what the actual fuck?
She changed into her clothes and opened the door. The minute she crossed the threshold, her heart sunk.
Guilt? Regret?
No … it was emptiness. Like her soul had just been hollowed out.
She clutched her hand to her chest. Seriously?
What, now she couldn’t function without the man? Absolutely absurd. She needed no man. But the ache in her heart at leaving him just about swallowed her.
She had to get out. Now.
Nyah bolted for the door and took off down the path through the woods. Late-day sunlight filtered through the barren trees, clasping together like praying fingers above her. Even with the sun’s warmth, the Louisiana winter still had a bite in the air. She had no idea what happened to her leather jacket last night.
Didn’t matter, she had to get back to her sister’s coven in Baton Rouge and figure out what the hell was going on. Had she been set up?
She also had to see if there was some kind of spell or incantation she could do to solve this wolf issue, because tonight was the last night of the three-day full moon cycle. Which meant, if what Jordan said was true, she could be in real danger.
Her car still sat in the parking lot of the bar, only now she had a lot less windows. And so did the bar. Events from last night blurred in her mind, but the place looked like a tornado tore through it. Glass littered the parking lot, shrouding it in a rainbow of colors as sunlight hit the fragments. She walked through what used to be one of the doors that blew off when her spell took hold.
Her nose twitched as she picked up a scent … blood. A lot of it. But two distinct smells hit her, Zeke’s and Jordan’s. The blood she spilled attempting to take the life of an innocent. And Jordan’s, spilled defending it. Guilt ransacked her soul, and she collapsed to her knees as the emotions overtook her.
“I almost needlessly took a life here last night.” She dropped her head to her hands and succumbed to the tears. “Norah, please help me. Help me find your real killer so you can rest in peace.”
“Nyah,” a soft voice called out her name from behind her.
Nyah shot to her feet and whipped around. The panic in her heart calmed when she came face to face with Angela, the high priestess of her sister’s coven.
“Angela, what are you doing here?”
“We came to make sure the wolf was dead.” Angela and six others from the coven entered the bar. “Tell me he’s dead, Nyah.”
Nyah shook her head. “No. He didn’t kill Norah. We’re chasing the wrong lead.”
Angela rushed her and her icy fingers wrapped around her wrist. “It has to be done. This is our only chance. Tonight is the last night of the full-moon cycle.”
“Did you not just hear what I said? We have the wrong guy. Zeke didn’t kill Norah.”
“Sam, you must get the Bayou Vista pack here tonight. They must attack at the exact moment Nyah takes the heart,” Angela said.
“As you wish, ma’am.” Sam nodded and ran out of the building.
“What are you talking about?” Nyah shook from Angela’s grip, who still clung to her hand.
“Do you not want to avenge your sister’s death?” Angela glared at her. The fire in her eyes struck Nyah to her core. It wasn’t concern, or revenge, it was lust. A hunger.
“I told you, Zeke didn’t kill Norah. There’s no need to kill the wolf.”
“There’s always a need to kill a wolf. But this one in particular is of the ancient pure-blood line that we need for the spell. And only you are strong enough to perform it.”
Nyah’s heart beat sped until it thrummed in her ears. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about taking back what’s rightfully ours. Our coven’s land, power, ancestry!”
Nyah shook her head. Nothing made sense. But a dangerous electricity filled the air, and Nyah knew nothing good could come of it. The hairs on her neck stood at attention and as she turned around she realized why. The rest of the coven had encircled her in crystals, making a barrier, a magical cage to bar her from using her powers.
“What are you doing? This doesn’t make any sense! We have to find Norah’s killer, or we’re all in danger. I don’t understand,” Nyah pleaded.
Angela leaned in. “You just need to do your job and kill the wolf if you want what’s best for the coven. You want us to survive, we’re family, we’re all daughters of Gaia. But you, the last of the Salem witches, a descendant of the Winston bloodline can help us stay alive for centuries with your power.”
“How will killing a wolf bring your coven power?”
“Oh, it won’t. But it will clear this ancient land, the burial grounds of our sisters gone before us in this fight. Beneath us lay the ashes of those who fought the wolves, the packs that terrorized our ancestors for centuries. The heart of the Eden’s Bayou Alpha under the full moon will release the souls of our departed. Then we send in the Bayou Vista clan and let them take each other out and cleanse this land as they rip themselves to shreds.”
Shit. Nyah had gone after the wrong man. If she’d had been successful, she could have killed Jordan instead. Somehow she mixed Zeke and Jordan up. All she was told was that he was a light-brown male, bald, and brown eyes. They looked similar, but Zeke had no facial hair. Jordan had a constant five o’clock shadow.
Nyah looked down and clenched her hands to a fist to stop the tremors shaking them. That meant Jordan was in danger. If they found out Jordan was the true Alpha, they’d kill him.
Angela’s shrill voice interrupted her thoughts. “And then, at the apex of the full-moon you, the last Salem witch, transfer your power to us in your most sacred act.”
Nyah arched a brow. “What makes you think I’m going to transfer my power to you lunatics?”
A wicked smile slicked Angela’s lips. “You won’t have a choice, as upon your death your power will disburse into the aether, but our ancestors will be there to harbor it and bestow it back upon our coven in an ancient ritual. Your sister’s sacrifice was the first step in this long-awaited ritual to bring back to our kind what was taken from us.”
“You … you killed Norah? To distribute her power to get to me? You bitch!” Nyah lunged at her, but the minute her body nicked the edge of the circle of crystals, a shock rattled her, like that of a lightning bolt. Pain ripped through her body as if she were being torn from all sides. Her legs collapsed and she dropped to the floor.
Angela kneeled beside the crystal circle, caging her in. “Sometimes in life, sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. My coven sisters and I thank you for your sacrifice, and you will be rewarded to know that your blood will allow many future generations of witches to survive.”
Angela lifted one of the crystals and reached into the circle and gripped Nyah’s wrist, taking a quick swipe at it with an athame. Warm blood seeped from her wound, running the length of her hand to her fingertips. It trailed a line along the wooden floor toward a chalk circle Angela had drawn in the middle of the bar.
Angela threw her arms up. “Awake, my sisters. Feed and thrive!”
****
Jordan’s eyes flung open and he shot out of the bed, only to collapse on the floor. Pain riddled his body, as if someone just Tazered him. He shook his head and forced himself to his knees as he fought off the blackness threatening to take him down.
What the actual fuck?
“Nyah,” he choked out.
He glanced around the room, but there was no sign of her. Air fought its way back into his lungs as he sucked in a heavy breath over h
is racing heart.
“Zeke,” Jordan cried out as he stumbled his way to the bed and threw on some clothes.
Zeke’s loud stomps stopped as he hit the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Nyah, she’s in trouble.” Jordan wiped the sweat from his brow and choked down the fear rising in his gut.
“Where is she? How do you know?”
“I felt it. Someone’s hurting her. I don’t know what’s going on, but summon the pack. I have to find her.”
“She’s going to be a constant pain in our ass, isn’t she?” Zeke shook his head.
“Probably. But she’s my pain in the ass. And she needs our help. Go!”
“Where should we go?”
“Meet at the bar. I’m betting she went there to get her car. I can still smell her scent in the air.” Jordan burst out the door and shifted mid-air, covering the ground faster in his wolf form. Just as he’d thought, he tracked her scent straight in a beeline to the bar. Only as he approached, he picked up far more than just her scent.
A myriad of smells hit him, from people to herbs, and gasoline.
Witches.
Fucking patchouli and sage, they were cleansing the bar for some kind of ritual probably. Which meant Nyah was in the middle of it.
Jordan kicked up speed as adrenaline fed his legs. He had no idea what he’d find when he got there, and he prayed his brother and the rest of the pack wouldn’t be far behind.
As he neared the bar, he shifted back to human form and inched his way along the outside wall trying to get an idea of what was going on inside. His nose narrowed in on Nyah immediately, and fear spiked her heart rate so loud it thumped in Jordan’s ears.
The coppery scent of blood hit him like a punch, and it belonged to Nyah. Shit. Jordan counted at least six witches inside, and who knew if there were more in the parking lot. Nyah lay on the floor, bleeding out while the women danced around her, chanting like a bunch of doped-up hippies.
He hated witches. All except Nyah.
Darkness pulled the sun below the horizon. The full moon rose in the sky, heading toward its apex.
“Come on, Nyah. Come on,” Jordan grunted. He closed his eyes and tried to channel her through his Alpha link, hoping her change had started and she could hear him in her mind. He needed her to drop the wards the witches had in place, once again blocking him from entering his own damned bar for the second time.
A loud groan echoed through the room as Nyah rolled over, eyeing Jordan at the door.
That’s it, darlin’, hear me. I need you to get these wards down so I can get in there and help you. It hurts, I know that. I can feel it. Channel me, take my strength from our bond. Use it, use me to help break you free.
Nyah slapped a hand to the floor, trying to crawl her way toward Jordan.
No, save your physical strength. I’ll come get you. Just close your eyes, think of me. Think of me helping you, giving you my hand, my heart, my strength. Lower the wards, baby. I know you can do it.
He prayed, even though they’d just mated, that their bond would be strong enough to pull it off. She was a Winston witch and he the last of the ancient Alphas. Surely they could tap into each other.
It was a long shot, but it was all he had at the moment.
Nyah stretched a hand toward him and closed her eyes.
“Wolf!” someone screamed from inside the bar.
Fuck, they spotted him.
“Nyah, now!” Jordan shouted.
A blast of white light shot from Nyah’s fingertips and a shockwave rattled the walls of the building. Jordan hoped that was it as he took a running leap and shifted mid-air. Nothing between him and the witches but air, and he tore through the screaming lot, not caring who or what got caught in the crossfire.
Nyah pulled herself to her knees. “Jordan,” she screamed. “Help me. What’s happening?”
Jordan ripped the head off two of the witches and tossed them to the floor as a group of them fled out toward the parking lot.
Don’t fight it, Nyah. Let it happen. You’re going through your first change. Your body will heal itself during the process. If you fight it, you’ll only make it last longer and it’ll hurt you more. You can do this. I’m right here.
Shrieks and blood-curdling screams wailed from the parking lot. Jordan hoped that meant the rest of the pack had arrived and were making short work of the rest of the witches.
“Jordan, trap…” Nyah said, reaching her hand to him.
“What are you talking about?” Jordan said just as something pierced him from the back.
Jordan sprang up as an old hag of a witch attempted another strike, this time at his chest. He swatted at her with his paw, scraping his claws across her face. Her scream was drowned out by his growl as he pounced on top of her. But she jammed the athame into his chest, ripping a whimper from his lung as he rolled over to the floor. Pain leached his body, as if his spirit were being snuffed out.
“Jordan, no!” Nyah screamed.
His last thought was of Nyah, and he prayed she’d survive the change and run. Run fast and furious to the homestead and be safe. He knew his brother, who would become the new alpha, would take care of her. He just prayed the rest of the pack would accept her as their own as well.
His eyes snapped shut as the blackness claimed him.
Chapter Six
Nyah’s heart sank as she watched her mate die before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. The full moon rose high in the sky, and it pulled at her, yanking something inside of her outward. Fear sliced at her as the crunch of bones snapping, realigning, changing, and shifting filled her ears, knowing they were her own. She dropped to her hands and knees, tucking her chin to her chest as she heaved heavy, labored breaths through the pain.
Jordan told her to let it happen. Not fight it. But how the fuck did she not fight something this unnatural … this preternatural thing happening to her? It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The slice on her wrist sealed, as if it had never happened. Just as hair sprouted along her arms, and her nails grew into long claws.
Nyah released a guttural scream that changed to a growl as the rest of her body followed, elongating, raising up, filling out, forming the body of a wolf. Dark blonde fur covered her face along her snout where her nose used to be.
Suddenly everything in the room became sharper, clearer, more defined. The sound of a cricket miles away stood out among the crunching and cracking and snapping of body parts from the parking lot. A mosquito buzzed in the moonlight outside the bar, only to be swallowed by a bat that swooped down from the dark of night.
Blood, coppery and acrid, filled her nostrils and immediately she knew it belonged to Jordan. His scent filled her, slicing her heart in two.
She padded over to him, bleeding out next to Angela on the floor, covered in even more blood. A cough rocked her body as she choked on blood dripping along her lips.
“Abom … ination,” she choked out. “Die.”
“You first, bitch.” Nyah lunged at her and ripped her throat straight from her neck.
Another wolf padded into the room with a scent she recognized from the other night, when Jordan saved her from the rival pack attack, the one he called Roark.
Roark shifted to human form and leaned against the door. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little she-wolf. A baby freshly turned.”
A slow, intermittent thump hit her ears and she whipped around. Jordan was still alive. She had to change back and heal him. She couldn’t do it from her wolf form. It had to be from her witch side.
Norah, please help me…
Nyah closed her eyes and concentrated on her human form, her witch form. Like channeling her power during an incantation, she let her spirit take over, guide her, fill her.
She dropped to the floor, and a shiver claimed her naked body. But she was human. Pain radiated through every inch of her, but the drive to save her mate was stronger. Her long fingernails dug into the floor and she dragged herself
to his side.
“Don’t you leave me now. You got me into this shit. Hell if I’m living through it alone.” A hazy white light shone through her fingertips as she laid her hands along his blood-soaked chest. His fur thinned beneath her hands as it turned back into skin. The warmth that once radiated off his flesh was now cold and lifeless, graying as it died before her eyes.
“No,” Nyah shouted. “I won’t let you slip away.”
Nyah fought, channeling everything she had left inside her. A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up into the smiling face of her dead sister, Norah. Her spirit form merged with Nyah, thrusting her head back as the force took over her body. A flash of light burst from her fingertips and struck Jordan’s chest.
He bolted up like he’d just been shocked back to life, coughing as he rolled over.
Nyah swallowed hard and clutched a hand to her chest, feeling her sister’s life force coursing inside her. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Jordan scrambled up from the floor and lunged at Nyah, wrapping his arms around her as he crashed against her lips. But it wasn’t a thank you for healing him. Each sweep of his tongue told her how thankful he was she was still alive. The concern and tenderness in his movements were for her, not for him.
He gave his life for her. And she gave it back to him.
****
Jordan pulled back from the kiss and stared into the eyes of his mate, his love, his future. “You did it darlin’. You did it.”
Nyah slid a warm hand along his bare chest. Her simple touch lit a fire along his skin. “My sister helped me. She gave me her strength and her power to help save you.”
A smile lit his lips. “No, baby, not me. I’m talking about you. You survived your first shift. And you changed back at will. That is an incredible feat for a hybrid, let alone a newly turned. You are simply amazing, and I’m so damn proud of you.”
He needed to taste her lips once more, soak himself in her essence, her strength and beauty. She embodied what it meant to be a wolf, strong and wild, yet somehow she’d managed to retain her witch half and control it. Now he knew why the powers that be mated him to her.