Another wolf replied, It’s a hybrid. Another one of those fucking hybrids.
Thompson growled at Robin. Your family has a thing for these creatures, it seems to me. Tell me, my frightened little pup, is he your mate?
Affronted by Thompson calling him pup, Robin snapped, He is. And I guess you’ve never heard the adage of “to each his own,” huh? Because if my family has a thing for hybrids, then your family has a thing for stupidity.
Thompson attacked without warning.
He leaped high in the air before landing right in front of Peter, then shot through Peter’s legs, immediately going for Robin’s throat. Robin had no room to maneuver underneath Peter’s bulk and howled in pain when Thompson’s teeth dug deep into him.
Peter lifted himself on his hind paws, giving Robin space to move. Robin struggled with all his might against Thompson, hot and cold flashes surging through his body. Thompson was trying to kill him. Why? Robin moved from side to side, pulled and pushed, putting all his strength in his movements, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t shake the much older and much more experienced wolf off him.
The pressure on his throat increased, and Robin pawed at it, hoping to push Thompson away. Small dark spots appeared in his vision.
The other wolves attacked Peter, their growls and harsh pants echoing in Robin’s ears, then a low growl was followed by the unmistakable sound of a body crashing into a tree. Bones snapped, and a sudden nausea filled Robin’s stomach. Whoever it was didn’t even have the time to protest.
Peter, help me! I can’t get him off me. I can’t breathe! Robin cried when the dark spots in his vision coalesced into a larger mass.
Images of his imminent death swam through Robin’s oxygen-deprived brain, when one of the energy lines he shared with Peter flared up in a dark blue, rushing toward him. He gasped when a surge of new strength flooded his body.
He pulled together every last ounce of fortitude he possessed, combined it with the newly acquired energy, and bucked wildly. Taken off guard, Thompson relieved some of the pressure on his throat. Robin gulped in much needed air, and rolled himself around, forcing Thompson to let go of him.
Robin struggled to his feet, still dazed and light-headed, when another wolf attacked him from behind. Robin whirled around, gave himself over to his wolf nature, and fought for his life.
Every time he feared he’d collapse and give in to the inevitable, a new pulse of blue energy invaded his body. But no matter how hard he fought, he barely left a mark on his opponents.
It had always been like this, he’d never been a match for anyone even as a kid, Robin remembered with rising helplessness and desperation.
After a particularly hard bite to his left hind leg from one of the wolves, Thompson jumped him again, digging his teeth deeply into his neck. Robin screamed as the sharp canines sliced easily through flesh and tendons, tearing open one of his arteries.
As suddenly as it came, the pressure was gone. Thompson hit a pine trunk, his bones shattering with a thundering clap. Peter went after the other wolf who had attacked him, snatched the wolf by the neck and shook it like a rag doll before dropping it to the ground.
Peter’s fangs dripped with blood as he hurried over to Robin. The sight brought forth another bout of nausea as Robin became aware of the strong stench of blood and fear in the air, accompanied by an almost eerie silence around them. Robin coughed; even that slight movement sent a sharp pain throughout his whole body.
Peter, I think I’m dying. I don’t want to die!
Robin whimpered when Peter started to shift instead of coming to his aid. Peter! I’m not sure I can hold on for as long as it takes you to shift.
Robin had just finished his protest when Peter stood in the middle of the bloodbath, wild-eyed and with his chest heaving. Baffled, Robin asked, How did you—
“There is no time for questions. Do exactly as I say!” Peter sank to his knees next to Robin.
Close to tears, Robin remained silent. Peter laid both hands on Robin’s neck, his dark eyes large but showing a determination and confidence that soothed Robin.
“You will hurt. I apologize in advance for causing you pain,” Peter said.
Before Robin had a chance to utter a single word, Peter grabbed the injured patch of his neck roughly and squeezed.
Robin shrieked; the pain sliced through him, and his limbs jerked, then the writhing started. He pulled all his reserves to get away from the indescribable pain, but all his attempts were in vain. His limbs and paws pattered on the ground, beating a frantic staccato while he screamed and begged to be released.
“Stop fighting me!” Peter shouted at some point. “Look around you! Look at the energy lines. You’re not letting me in.”
Robin opened his eyes with great difficulty. The usual blue and turquoise lines whirled almost leisurely around them. The blue lines throbbed and tried to merge with the turquoise ones. They couldn’t, though, because large knots of turquoise held them back.
I don’t understand, Robin said.
“You don’t need to understand. Just accept my help, my angel. Please, let me in,” Peter urged.
I’m so scared.
“I know, Robin. I know. Please trust me.”
That’s what it always comes back to, huh? Trust, I mean.
Peter’s voice broke when he replied, “We will talk philosophy if that’s your desire, but first allow me in so I can rescue you.”
Okay.
A strange sensation encompassed him, as if he’d burst open a lock around his chest. Moments later, the blue energy lines rushed into the turquoise ones, and all he could do was to hang on.
The pain level increased to a point where Robin was sure he had gone straight to hell. His body stopped cooperating and stiffened, but just when he couldn’t endure any more, the pain ebbed. Focusing on the world around him, he saw some energy lines had merged, painting intricate patterns of blue and turquoise.
Peter knelt beside him, his trembling hands still resting on Robin’s throat. “Heal the rest of your wounds.”
Robin closed his eyes, concentrated on his injuries, and tended to them. Peter kept his position next to him, one hand resting above Robin’s heart, lending silent comfort Robin soaked up like a sponge.
Peter? I’m done.
“How do you feel?”
Splendid.
Peter turned his head, staring at Robin with both eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “Excuse me?”
Well, splendid in relation to how I felt a few minutes ago.
Peter gathered Robin in his arms and hugged him to his chest before he rubbed his nose into the white fur at Robin’s neck and throat. Peter’s breath tickled, and his hold bordered on painful.
Peter, you’re crushing me!
“I almost lost you because of my own carelessness. That man should never have gotten to you in the first place. We will retreat to the cave now.”
Peter rose to his feet with Robin in his arms. Robin struggled and whined but to no avail. When Robin’s squirming didn’t lessen, Peter stopped, turned him around, and demanded, “Look!”
The ground was scattered with the bodies of dead or dying wolves. Robin shivered at the still faintly shimmering energy lines, all of them disrupted in several places.
Peter’s voice shook with suppressed anger when he said, “These men attempted to murder you. Blood was shed just a short time ago, and I will not expose you to danger again. We will go back to the cave for the rest of the night.”
But what about Tim? And Jay? And… and Walter?
“They will have to fend for themselves,” Peter replied.
No!
Robin howled and snapped at Peter’s arms, forcing Peter to loosen his hold a fraction. Robin used that short moment to free himself. After jumping to the ground, he weaved on the spot while Peter moved into a crouched position.
I’m sorry, Peter, but I need to go back to look after my brother, after my family.
“I am your mate and you
r family.”
Yes, you are my mate and believe me, I’ve never experienced a stronger connection to anyone before, but I love my family. I will go and look after them.
“You are not allowed to go anywhere without me!”
This is stupid. I’m not your property. If you really meant all the things you said to me—about protecting me and so on—then you’ll come with me now and do your job, Robin said.
Peter gaped at him for a long moment but didn’t say anything. Robin’s eyes watered as he turned his back to Peter and picked his way through the grotesquely deformed bodies littering the ground.
When he finally left the bodies behind him, someone emitted a huff to his left side. Robin whirled around, his heart hammering in his chest, expecting one of the cadavers coming back to life, but instead Peter in his bear form had caught up with him.
Are you coming with me?
Peter dipped his head. Robin walked up to him, some of the tension leaving his body. He nudged Peter’s nose with his own, and encouraged by the gentle nuzzle he received in return, licked over Peter’s mouth. Thank you.
Thirteen
THEY SPRINTED toward the Coxes’ house. To Robin’s ears, their breathing sounded obscenely loud, almost drowning out any other sound. Robin missed the usual nightly forest noises, the scurrying of little feet in the undergrowth or the occasional swooping of wings, all sounds he’d welcome dearly right now.
Peter stayed so close to him they often bumped into each other. A scared rabbit hopped out from under a brush, his long paws thumping on the sandy loam and tearing a frightened yelp from Robin. Within seconds, he was hidden beneath the mass of Peter’s bulk, quivering in a sudden déjà vu moment.
When nothing happened, he peered out from under Peter’s left flank. Peter huffed once, and Robin swiftly pulled his head back underneath the comforting black fur, his heart slamming against his ribcage. Peter bent his head to look at Robin before nudging Robin’s nose with his.
I’m sorry, Robin said.
He moved out from under Peter’s frame but had to lock his legs to stop them from buckling. Peter lowered his head and swiped his tongue over Robin’s head, eliciting a helpless whine from Robin.
Peter rounded Robin and gently shoved him from behind into the direction of the Coxes’ house.
I’m going. I’m going. Sheesh! A moment ago you didn’t want me to go near the house, and now you’re harassing me, Robin complained.
He fell into a fast trot with Peter right on his heels.
When they reached the fence surrounding the Coxes’ pastures, Peter lifted himself on his hind legs, appearing taller than any animal Robin had ever seen. One of the horses at the far end of the pasture screamed. One of the two foals, the chestnut colt, shuddered and sought refuge behind his mother’s trembling body. The other foal, a black filly, stood stiffly, her whole body tensed up in fear.
We’d better go outside along the fence. The horses are terrified of you.
Peter lowered himself so he was on all fours again and trailed after Robin. The horses whinnied and stamped their hooves, their breathing visible as little clouds in the cool night air. Robin kept his eyes straight forward, hoping none of the horses would feel compelled to run and trample them to death.
At least the horses were unharmed. Scared but uninjured, their energy lines looked all okay, no ruptures in them. Everywhere else he looked, Robin discovered signs of fights, shreds of energy lines that would soon be extinguished. Dreading what they’d find inside the house, Robin stopped on the porch, his throat dry and his nose twitching.
The door hung loose on its hinges, shards of glass scattered all over the porch, forcing Robin and Peter to pick their way carefully toward the entrance.
Tim? It’s me, Robin! And Peter, my mate, you remember him right? No one answered him. We’re coming in, okay?
Not waiting for an answer, Robin stepped inside the gloomy house. His eyes adjusted quickly as he moved along the hallway. Suddenly, Peter passed him in a hurry, blocking his view of the pantry.
What is there? Robin asked.
Peter looked at him, deep sadness and regret shining in his eyes. Robin’s heart rate sped up, and all of a sudden the smell of freshly shed blood assaulted his senses—human blood.
Not wanting to see what lay behind Peter, yet needing to know the truth so desperately nothing else registered, Robin ducked his head to look underneath Peter’s belly.
It took a moment for Robin to realize the bizarre figure on the floor had once been Walter Cox.
The wolves hadn’t only killed him; they had been in a blood rush, distorting Walter’s body. Shadows surrounded Walter, the shadows that had been Walter’s energy lines. Not a single one was intact; all had ruptured at various points. Not even the slightest glimmer of energy remained visible.
Robin stared at Walter’s glassy eyes, the terror still lurking in them. A high-pitched whine erupted from Robin’s throat, the pain about his friend’s death rendering him breathless.
The clock in the kitchen ticked, ignorant of the fact someone was dead, someone dear to Robin.
The coppery smell of blood was all encompassing, overpowering any other scent, and Robin swallowed against it. He tried to block out the scent and instead concentrated on what he could see.
It was a mistake.
The floor, the shelves filled with food and tools were all covered in blood spatters.
It was all too much—too much to comprehend, too much to feel, just too much. Robin whirled around, possessed with the single wish to run away as far as he could, to create distance from the horror that had intruded on his life.
Peter stood in his way, not allowing him to pass, no matter how much Robin jumped, dodged, and whimpered.
Let me go! Please!
Peter didn’t oblige. Instead, he thwarted another escape attempt, pushed Robin underneath him, and trapped him with his body. He put his large head between Robin and Walter’s dead form and hummed low in his throat.
Robin gasped and writhed, the urge to flee overriding anything else. Peter’s hum resounded in Robin’s chest, spread from there, and pulled him away from the edge. Peter and his energy lines twirled fast, with flashes of blue bursting into the turquoise ones.
Closing his eyes and tucking his nose in Peter’s thick fur at his throat, he gave himself over to Peter’s soothing. He needed Peter as his anchor, needed him to keep his sanity to survive the terror.
After a while, Robin’s shivering subsided to occasional trembles. Peter was still humming, still soothing him, and Robin wanted to keep his eyes shut forever. Through his haze, he slowly became aware of someone crying.
Robin’s eyes flew open at this realization. Someone cried. Here, in this house. That meant at least one other person was still alive.
Peter! I hear someone crying!
Robin bounced to his feet, pointedly staring in the opposite direction of Walter’s body. Peter got up as well and followed. Robin led the way toward the living room, where they found Jay kneeling besides Tim, both hands pressed against Tim’s stomach, a weak orange light flowing from Jay’s hands. Tears streamed down Jay’s pale face, and harsh sobs shook his body.
Tim’s eyes were open but unfocused. One of his energy lines pulsed weakly and only because Jay sent bursts of energy through it, just as Peter had done for Robin earlier tonight.
Robin hurried to Jay and his brother, gasping at Tim’s injury. His whole abdomen had been sliced open, and only Jay’s white-knuckled grip on Tim’s skin prevented Robin from seeing his brother’s intestines.
Jay himself was injured but nothing life-threatening. Hadn’t Tim said Jay had been injured earlier? That in combination with his almost-death a few days ago had obviously left him weak, and the constant feeding of energy into Tim made it impossible for Jay to heal him.
Jay repeated the same litany over and over, “Not Tim, not Tim, please not Tim too.”
For a stunned moment, Robin simply stared at Tim and Jay. Then Tim drew
in a breath, and the fragile pulsing energy line lost all of its colorful brilliance. Jay cried out before he sent a powerful burst of orange sparks into Tim.
Tim’s energy line flared up twice before dulling again. Jay wailed, “No!”
Without thinking, Robin shifted, knelt next to Tim, and laid his hands above Jay’s. Jay looked at him, startled, his usually bright blue eyes dark and overflowing with tears.
Softly, Robin said, “I’ll help. You have to guide me, though, okay?”
Knowing Jay wouldn’t release his hold on Tim, his mate, Robin had to make sure Jay wouldn’t fight him. “Jay, do you understand?”
“Help,” Jay responded, his voice sounding hoarse from crying.
Peter remained in his bear form, standing guard next to Robin. Gathering all his power, Robin sent it partially to Jay, who immediately forwarded it to Tim.
Robin didn’t know from where he got the knowledge, but he said, “Jay, you have to send him only small amounts of energy, but do it steadily. Use the bigger part of the energy to heal him.”
For a moment, Robin feared Jay didn’t understand his instruction because Jay just looked at him with a blank expression. Then Jay gave a curt nod, a fierce look of concentration on his face. The glowing orange light emanating from Jay’s hands intensified and grew, causing Tim to thrash his head from one side to the other.
Robin observed Tim’s and Jay’s energy lines so he could adjust the right time to share his own power with Jay. The healing took a very long time during which Tim frequently yelled in pain and even fainted once.
Jay obviously mistook Tim’s faint with a worsening of Tim’s condition, a panicked sob escaping his mouth. “No!”
He lifted his hands, ready to let go of Tim’s abdomen, and only Robin’s quickly snapped, “Leave your hands there!” combined with pushing down on Jay’s hands saved Tim from his imminent death.
Robin said, “He just fainted. He’s getting better. I can see it in his—I mean, can’t you feel it?”
Jay gazed from Robin to Tim. “I can only concentrate on his injury; I don’t feel anything else. It would distract me.”
Secret Energy (Shifters Book 2) Page 9