by Julie Wetzel
Phelan glared at him, but couldn’t move or speak.
“Eckert’s pack was never any match for Brenton’s.” Naberius turned and walked back across the circle towards the brass cup. “It may take them a little time, but I’m sure your friends would have wiped the floor with them. But now…” He turned around to face Phelan once again. “They will have to deal with you.” Holding his arms wide, Naberius let out a long line of indistinguishable sounds.
They weren’t words as Phelan knew them, but they hit him like a punch to the gut. The wolf fell from the air to land sprawled on the grass. He groaned in pain and curled into a ball as the heat and power devoured his core. “Damn you,” he cursed at the daemon.
Naberius clicked his tongue in disapproval. “I’m already damned.” He turned away from Phelan and picked up the brass cup. “But I should thank you for this.” He held it up for Phelan to see. “With this, I don’t have to work with that foul creature anymore. I can simply take what I want.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “But a contract is a contract.”
Phelan glared at the daemon, wanting to rip its head off, but he couldn’t move. The pain had reached a level where he couldn’t even draw breath to scream. Red colored his vision, and he closed his eyes. His body burned and he felt his bones shifting around, changing his form, but it wasn’t a normal shift. Terror and rage filled his mind, leaving only one thought—destroy.
***
Krissy floated on the edge of consciousness as she lay on the grass. Her mind was still recovering from the shock of her actions, and she hadn’t regained control of her body. She could hear the daemon circling Phelan, taunting him. With her eyes closed, she listened to their conversation and tried to think of something to do. She didn’t see any way they could win against the daemon now that it was free. Phelan’s scream split the night, startling her. Something landed in the grass just inches from her face.
Opening her eyes, she saw the golden disk sparkling in the moonlight. Lifting her hand, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around the medallion. Its warmth cut through her fear, and she suddenly had an idea that gave her hope. She traced back through her memory and found the information she needed. Ross had given Phelan the daemon’s name. With that, they could bind it in one try.
Krissy shifted her head so she could see more than just the grass. A chill ran down her spine as she looked out over the ruined circle. Phelan’s feet hung in her vision, but they were several inches above the ground. He was very close, and she didn’t dare move enough to see more of him. Instead, she looked out and watched as the daemon walked away from them. He was moving across the circle to the brass cup.
Lifting her head a little more, she scanned over the ground looking for the seal. Elliot had been very specific about how the binding should be done, and Krissy wasn’t sure if it would still work now that the circle was broken. Spotting the parchment, she laid her head down and worked through the plan in her mind. With the daemon free, she was going to have to cast the incantation without him realizing it. She needed some kind of distraction.
Phelan’s body came crashing to the ground, startling her. Her gut instinct was to go to him and see what was wrong, but the analytical part of her brain stopped her. This was the opportunity she was looking for. She could deal with whatever was wrong with Phelan after she’d captured the daemon.
Drawing in a breath, she started whispering the incantation while the daemon gloated. She didn’t know how loud she had to be, but she didn’t want to risk catching Naberius’s attention. When she got to the part where she said his name, the daemon made a choking sound. Since she now had the thing’s attention, she sat up and stared at it while she finished the last lines of the spell.
Naberius stood in the circle, holding the brass cup in his hand. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move. “Release me.”
Krissy raised her eyebrows. The spell had worked, but she didn’t know how long it would last. She glanced at Phelan, who was curled in a ball. He looked to be in severe pain. She wanted to force the daemon to undo whatever he’d done, but Elliot’s warning echoed in her head. The binding incantation would only force the daemon to obey her one time. She put Phelan out of her mind and faced the daemon. “No.”
“Release me!” the daemon bellowed again.
Krissy dragged her aching body up from the ground. Her legs didn’t want to support her, but she forced them to work anyway. She staggered across the circle and picked up the seal. Turning, she faced the daemon and took the cup from his hand. She had to word her order carefully, so the daemon wouldn’t have the chance to escape. “Get in this cup right now without doing anything else.”
Naberius glared at her. “You will regret this,” he snarled as his body turned to mist and shrank down into the brass vessel.
“I don’t think so,” Krissy said through clenched teeth. She slapped the seal on the top, effectively capturing him. Setting the cup on the ground, she pulled the elastic band from her hair and slipped it over the top so that it held the seal in place. Happy that the daemon was taken care of, she stood up so she could go help Phelan.
A loud roar rumbled behind her, and Krissy turned just in time to see a huge creature working its way up from the ground. Disbelief filled her as she stood there staring at what had once been Phelan. The twisted form wasn’t wholly man or wolf, but some evil amalgamation of the two. Its dark fur and sharp claws glistened in the moonlight as it stood up to its full height. It would have looked great in a horror movie, but it was terrifying in real life.
The thing that had been Phelan tilted its head back. Spittle dribbled from the corners of its mouth as it let out a howl that made Krissy jump. The sudden movement must have caught its attention because it lowered its head and looked directly at her. Its blue eyes flashed with an unearthly light, and it lowered its stance into something more threatening.
“Phelan?” Krissy called to it. Terror ate at her as she took a step back.
The werewolf growled and charged her.
Screaming, Krissy turned to run, but was too slow. What had been Phelan swiped its claws across her back. They ripped through her coat and dug into her skin as the force picked her up and slung her across the clearing.
Krissy’s scream cut off when she crashed to the ground facing away from her attacker. Pain raced through her body and settled into the tears on her back. She gasped, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked from her.
The creature roared again and changed course to finish her off.
Unable to recover from the fall quick enough to run, Krissy clenched her eyes and braced herself for the sting of Phelan’s teeth.
A human battle cry tore through the air as Elliot launched himself out of the tree line and onto Phelan before he could reach Krissy. He drove his silver knife deep into the werewolf’s shoulder.
Phelan cried out in pain and spun around, trying to get to the vampire on his back.
Elliot’s hand slipped from the dagger, and Phelan flung him off. Flipping in the air, Elliot landed on his feet and slid backwards. His right hand dropped to the ground to stabilize him as he held a broadsword in his left. Shaking his long hair back from his eyes, he looked up at the werewolf. A hint of regret touched his heart, but he pushed it away and readied himself for what was to come.
Letting out a loud roar, Phelan charged him.
Elliot lifted his sword, ready to run his friend through.
“No!”
The scream startled Elliot out of action. He rolled out of Phelan’s reach just as the wolf would have landed his attack.
***
Elliot’s attack had given Krissy the time she needed to get back to her feet, but she couldn’t let the two men continue fighting. Somewhere deep in her heart she knew that Elliot would wound Phelan badly, but there was no way he would be able to bring the rampaging werewolf down. She had to do something to save them.
An epiphany struck. She knew exactly what she needed to do, but it meant taking on the enraged w
olf herself. Determination filled her heart and pushed the fear out. She had only a moment before Elliot engaged Phelan again. “No,” she screeched to stop Elliot.
As Elliot rolled out of the way, Krissy raced over and jumped on Phelan’s back.
Phelan roared in anger. The strange form he’d taken didn’t give his arms enough reach to yank her from his back, so he spun around, trying to get her in reach.
Krissy caught the torn and bloody scraps left from Phelan’s shirt. She twisted her arms in the ragged cloth and hair and held on for dear life.
Phelan dropped to all fours and bucked, trying to dislodge her.
Feeling like she was on the world’s worst mechanical bull, Krissy sank her fingers into the fur and cloth so she wouldn’t fall. Phelan’s hate and anger rolled over her, making it hard for her to concentrate, but she reached for the warmth she knew was at Phelan’s core. Giving up all of her fear, she closed her eyes and started to sing. After the first few chords, her heart started to calm, bringing Phelan with it. It took several songs for Phelan to stop struggling against her and even more before he’d slumped to the grass, but he was still not showing signs of shifting back. Determined to reclaim him, she pressed on. She would do whatever it took to save him from this fate.
***
Elliot stood by, watching Krissy pacify Phelan. This was only one of the many possible outcomes of the night, and he was glad to see the young woman had chosen this path. The rips in the back of Krissy’s coat were edged with blood, and Elliot knew her fate was set. There was no way he’d be able to clean the taint from her blood without killing her. He let the point of his sword drop to the ground. The fight with the rest of the wolves had been hard, and he was tired. He pushed his loose hair back and waited to see what would happen.
His heart had dropped when he’d seen the form the daemon had forced Phelan into. Berserker werewolves were once commonly used in battle. The practice had died out because the magic used to create them was hard to control and the only way to stop them once turned was to kill them. And they were nearly impossible to put down. He hoped with all his heart that Krissy would be able to break the spell over her mate.
“The determination of the human heart never fails to amaze me.”
Elliot glanced over his shoulder as Joachim stepped up next to him. “That it does,” Elliot said, turning back. They stood together for a while, watching Phelan slowly regain his human form. “I am honored by your assistance.”
Joachim waved Elliot’s words away. “I didn’t do it for you.” Turning away from the vampire, Joachim went over to Ross. “Just look at that,” he said with disgust. “I really do wish daemons would take more care with their kills.” He reached down and yanked his halberd from the dead man’s back. Black scorch marks and burnt blood marred the blade. “I can’t use any of this for my hats.” The fay shook the useless blood from the blade. He held the poleaxe out to his side and released it. The weapon disappeared.
Elliot snickered. “How inconsiderate of the daemon.” He held his blood-covered sword out to his side. “Will this suffice?”
Joachim made an intrigued noise and moved closer. “It’s a start.” He ran his finger down the side of the blade, collecting the blood. When he was done, the metal shone clean in the moonlight. “But that’s not the only reason I gave the girl my blade.” He turned to stand next to Elliot again, but he didn’t explain.
After a moment of silence, Elliot glanced at the fay again. “I assume you have an agenda?”
“Not I,” Joachim said with amusement in his voice. “But things are in the works.”
Concerned, Elliot turned to look at the fay fully. “Like what?”
Joachim smiled at him and tapped the side of his nose. “That’s yet to be seen,” he said cryptically. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a battle to clean up.” The fay met Elliot’s gaze one last time. “But I will leave you with this. The time for action is close at hand. I would advise you to be careful.” And with that warning, the fay disappeared.
Elliot stood there, floundering for an answer. What the hell had the fay meant? Filing that away for later consideration, Elliot looked back at the pair in the clearing. Phelan was back to human. Krissy tried to pull the heavy man over to check on him. Sheathing his sword, Elliot went to help.
“Is he okay?” Krissy asked as Elliot helped her maneuver the unconscious werewolf.
“He should be,” Elliot said. He laid Phelan on his side, placing his head in Krissy’s lap. “Just hold him for a moment while I remove this.” Elliot waited until Krissy had Phelan before yanking the silver knife out of his shoulder. Blood gushed out, and he pressed his hand over the wound to seal it. Dropping the knife to the grass, Elliot ripped off the remains of Phelan’s shirt and balled it up against the wound. He placed Krissy’s hand over it. “Hold this tight,” he instructed. “The wound was made with silver, so it’ll take a little longer to heal.” Releasing her, he circled around to look at her back. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Krissy said. There was a tremble in her voice that said she was lying.
Elliot arched an eyebrow at her, but chose to let the lie slide. “Glad to hear it.” He checked over the wound. It was bad, but not life threatening. “The fight should be over soon,” he said, standing up. “And I’m pretty sure Brenton’s pack will win.” He went to gather up Phelan’s equipment.
Krissy stared up at Elliot, feeling lost. Life as she knew it was over. No matter how much she wanted, she could never go back to what she had been. She could have lived with the knowledge that the world was more complicated than she’d realized. Her own abnormal abilities had paved the way for that truth. But she had killed a man. That was not something she could easily forget. “What now?” she asked.
Elliot picked up the brass cup and turned to look at her. “You could always try to pick your life back up,” he suggested.
Surprise and disbelief pushed Krissy’s eyebrows up.
“But I don’t think you’d make it,” Elliot went on. “For one thing, you’re going to have a rough time around full moons for the next few months.”
Fear drove Krissy to look over her shoulder to try to see the long scratches down her back. They ached, but she’d almost forgotten about them in light of everything else.
Elliot came over and placed his hand on her shoulder to draw her attention away from the wounds. “Don’t fear,” he said. “You’ll have plenty of help to get you through it.” He looked down at Phelan. The man’s breathing had eased, and he seemed as if he was getting better. “And if you accept the mating bond and let him, Phelan will do everything in his power to see you are safe and well taken care of.”
Krissy looked down at the man resting in her lap. She’d forgotten about the mating bond. She could feel it flowing between them now. It was much stronger than before. She brushed his hair back from his face. The idea of spending the rest of her life with him was both scary and alluring. She looked up at Elliot. “Can a mating bond be broken?”
A hint of uncertainty crossed Elliot’s face. “The bonds are only breakable by death,” he confirmed. “But there are ways to lessen their hold if you wish, but they aren’t pleasant.”
Nodding, Krissy looked down at Phelan again. She didn’t like that she was stuck with him, but the idea of losing him also hurt. “We’ll see what happens.”
Elliot nodded, stood up, and got back to work. He was content with the way things had turned out. There was still much to do, but the future wasn’t looking so dark anymore. He gripped the cup in his hand and took it over to Phelan’s bag. They may have won the night, but they still had so much to do.
Waking up in pain really sucked. Phelan groaned as he moved in the bed, looking for a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one to be had. He ached from the tips of his hair to the bottoms of his feet. He’d lived through some horrible things, but whatever he was recovering from really took the cake. It felt like a bad shift gone sideways. Hearing movement off to his left, he crac
ked open an eye to see what was there. Light stabbed at the ache in his head, making it worse. He scrunched up his eyes to block out the light again, but the quick glimpse he’d caught was enough to ease him. He was in Rupert’s house with someone he trusted close by. Raising his hand, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to ease the pain. “Hey,” he croaked.
“Hey,” Krissy answered from where she sat next to his bed.
Phelan cleared his throat, trying to make it work easier. “Did we win?” he asked. He assumed since they were both alive that the answer was yes, but he needed a place to start. The last thing he could recall was Krissy passed out at his feet and the freed daemon standing in the ruined circle with the cup.
Krissy snorted softly in amusement. “Yeah. We won.”
He nodded his head gently. “What happened?” he asked, continuing to rub at the ache in his head.
Moving from her seat, Krissy picked up a cloth pack filled with cool, dry rice. “Well,” she said as she sat on the edge of Phelan’s bed and laid the pack over his eyes, “I used the spell Elliot gave us to trap the daemon in the cup.”
The cold weight of the pack helped to ease Phelan’s pain. He slipped his arm over Krissy’s lap and around her, proud she had managed to do what he’d failed to, but he knew there was more. “And then?”
Krissy drew in a deep breath and let it rush out. Knowing he was going to be hard on himself, she didn’t really want to tell him the rest, but he needed to know. “You shifted.”
Phelan lay quietly, speculating about what had happened. He remembered being in pain, but that was it. He pulled Krissy closer. She was warm and comforting, but he felt she was leaving something out. The link between them was much stronger than before. Many things could cause a link to grow, but he had an idea that he’d done something to change theirs. “I hurt you.” His hand curled in the loose material at her waist.