by Cynthia Eden
But the woman didn’t move.
He tried to catch her scent but the smoke seemed to burn the inside of his nose. Can’t smell a thing.
His muzzle pressed against her back. She coughed then, her body heaving, and he saw her face.
Josette Dusean.
The same face that had stared at him in the other room.
Demons could really piss him off. Dane growled.
She didn’t move.
But the fire seemed to tighten around him. Those flames were definitely higher now. Higher, fiercer, stronger. Like a net of fire that was closing in. Fucking magic.
Sonofabitch. He was an idiot. They’d raced right into the bastard’s trap. But then, Rafe had used very, very good bait.
Piers howled in agony and twisted, but he didn’t hit his attacker with his claws.
Of course not. Piers thought the woman was his mate. Lucas’s muscles bunched as he prepared to leap.
She laughed, yanked the knife out and plunged it in again.
Hell, no.
Lucas flew at her. But instead of catching her flesh, he barreled into Piers. Piers lifted his head and met Lucas’s stare. The white wolf’s eyes were filled with pain and fury and fear.
Back away. Lucas didn’t want to hurt him. That’s not Josette.
Piers just snarled at him.
And then the bastard came out of hiding. Rafe sauntered into the room as if he didn’t have a fucking care in the world.
“I think he’s past caring, or maybe even hearing what you say.” Rafe smirked at Lucas. “And your boy Dane . . . well . . . the fur’s about to burn right off his body. You won’t be getting help from him.”
Lucas lunged for the asshole.
But Piers caught him, held him tight with claws and teeth.
“Everybody always said Piers was close to the edge,” Rafe’s smirk turned into a cruel grin. “Good thing they were right, or otherwise, you both might be at my throat right now.”
I will get your throat.
Rafe lifted his hand and pointed at the woman. “This time, use the knife on Simone.”
The bitch came at him, bloody and strong.
But she didn’t stab him. Lucas didn’t give her the chance. One swipe of his claws and he ripped open her throat.
The roar of fury that filled his mind told him that Piers had gone over the edge.
And wasn’t coming back.
“Bad move, Simone. Very, very bad . . .” Yet Rafe sounded so pleased. “Of course, I was hoping to kill you myself, but getting killed by your own packmate—ah, fitting, isn’t it?”
Lucas twisted and barely managed to keep Piers’s teeth from biting into his throat. Piers didn’t even seem to notice that Josette’s image had changed in death. Her skin had lightened, her hair shortened, her face—not Josette anymore.
Marley.
A demon’s glamour spell ended in death, and the illusion was totally gone now.
If only Piers would fucking look!
“Haven’t you learned anything since I’ve been in town?” Rafe’s mocking drawl was really pissing him off. “You can’t trust your pack. You thought they had your back, didn’t you? Now, well, they’re after you. First Caleb. Now Piers.”
I don’t want to hurt you, Piers. Listen to me, dammit. That wasn’t your mate. Look at her!
But Piers was only looking at him and the rage in the other wolf’s eyes seared his skin.
Josette. He should have connected the dots sooner. Shit, Piers had even told him that he’d been watching her. How long had the guy known she was his? And why the hell hadn’t he tried to claim her? Piers had danced near the edge too long, he should have gone after Josette with everything he had.
Like Lucas would have gone after Sarah.
Piers swiped at him, but Lucas slammed his head into the wolf’s side. I don’t want to hurt you. He blasted out the thought again. His teeth snapped together. But I will. He couldn’t get past the red wall of rage in the other wolf’s mind.
“Caleb turned on you.” Rafe’s voice droned on. “Sure, it took some poison and the promise of an excruciating death, but I got him to lie and lead you right into my trap.”
A trap that hadn’t fucking worked.
“He should have killed you.” Now Rafe didn’t seem quite so pleased. “Caleb had the chance to attack, but . . .”
But he’d pulled back.
Piers tore into Lucas’s shoulder.
“This one won’t pull back.” Ah, now Rafe was happy again.
Sorry, Piers. Lucas leapt up and shoved his claws into the knife wounds on Piers’s back. When the wolf howled in agony, Lucas lunged off his body and dove right for Rafe.
Rafe didn’t back up. He didn’t try to shift. He just stood there and Lucas crashed into him. They slammed into the floor, and he went for Rafe’s throat.
“Something you should know . . .” Rafe murmured. He wasn’t even fighting. “Sarah’s dead.”
Lying bastard.
His teeth dug into Rafe’s skin.
“Or else, she will be, if you don’t get the fuck off me.” Lucas froze, the taste of the bastard’s blood on his tongue, then Rafe said, “My men have her surrounded outside. Her gun—the one you probably heard firing a moment ago—is out of bullets, and as for your little brother . . . well, let’s just say he’s not quite the scrapper that you are.”
Shit, shit, shit . . . Sarah!
She should have been back at the hotel. Safe. Rafe could be lying, but . . .
The gunshots.
“Get off, wolf . . . or you can rip my throat out, like you did to Marley, and then you can go and mourn over your dead lover.”
Lucas lifted his head.
“Thought so,” Rafe said as Lucas raced back to that broken window. He hurtled past the jagged glass and his paws slammed into the ground. He ran, fast, fast—desperate to get to her side.
He heard the clicks just as he burst onto the sidewalk. The clicks from Sarah’s empty gun. Six dead coyotes littered the ground. Sarah and Jordan were standing, back to back. Sarah had her gun up and when she saw him, her eyes widened. “Lucas!”
He realized too late that her shout was a warning. He tried to turn and glance back, but the bullet drove into him, and even as he fell, the form of the wolf began to melt away.
The fur melted from Dane’s body and the heat singed his flesh. He didn’t have a choice. He had to shift. The wolf could escape the fire, but if he did, the woman would die.
Maybe, just maybe, the man could save them both. Besides, what was a little pain?
This what you meant, Marie? Do I have to get ready for the fucking pain again?
He hefted Josette into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder. “Baby, this is the part where you’re supposed to be holding on,” he muttered. He took a breath. No clothes. No cover. The fire would burn right against his flesh.
Her eyelashes began to flutter.
“No.” He exhaled. “You don’t want to see this.”
Then leapt, dove through the fire, but the flames touched her skin and she screamed.
And screamed.
He didn’t stop running. The fire ate at him, and he hunched his shoulders, trying to protect her as much as he could. The smoke filled his lungs, choking him, but he kept going and then he was before the door he’d broken. Dane shoved his way past the splintered wood and into the other room.
He fell to the floor, rolling, twisting as he tried to put out the flames.
Josette wasn’t screaming anymore. Her eyes were open, wide, and blank with shock.
He caught her chin. His hands were covered with blisters and rough, red flesh. “You’re going to be okay.” The pain rolled through his body. Pain—that teasing bitch. He knew her so well. He took the pain, pulled it in deep, and let it make him stronger.
A ragged groan reached his ears. He turned his head and saw Piers staring at him. The white wolf’s pelt was matted with blood. Piers growled at him, advancing slowly.
&n
bsp; Behind him, Dane saw what was left of Marley. Looked like Lucas had kept his word and taken her out.
So where was Rafe?
“Ease up, Piers. She’ll be all right.” He glanced back at Josette.
Piers growled again, and the low, menacing sound had Dane tensing.
Piers leapt toward him, but froze when thunder filled the night. No, not thunder. Gunfire.
The white wolf’s head snapped toward the busted window. Seconds later, Piers raced into the night.
The fire slipped into the room then, and the crackles almost sounded like an old woman’s laughter. Not again. Dane grabbed Josette, didn’t even feel the tear of his skin as the burned flesh ripped, and followed that bloody wolf.
“Lucas!” Sarah lunged forward, but Jordan grabbed her, hauling her right back to him.
Lucas was on the ground, his body contorting, and the wolf vanishing as his body automatically shifted in a bid to heal and live.
Her heart raced in her chest and then . . . then her knees gave way. If Jordan hadn’t held her, Sarah would have fallen face-first onto the ground.
A strange cold wrapped around her body, a cold that numbed her legs and arms, even while her back burned—burned and throbbed as if a bullet had lodged near her spine.
Not my spine. Lucas’s.
“Sarah? What the hell is happening?”
The gun slipped from her fingers and hit the ground. She opened her mouth, tried to explain to Jordan, but only a ragged moan of pain came from her lips.
“Bastard, you should have died the first time I pumped you full of silver,” Rafe snarled and closed in on Lucas. “Fucking magic won’t save you now. It can’t.”
He lives . . . you live.
Sarah’s eyes squeezed shut as the fire from her back fought that numbing cold in her limbs.
He dies . . . Marie’s voice whispered through her mind. Then you die.
Her eyes flew open. “No!”
Lucas was on the ground, on his hands and knees, trying to push up as the blood poured from his back. Behind him, Rafe had a gun up, aimed, ready to blow that silver bullet into him again.
“Don’t!” Sarah screamed, pushing through the pain and breaking away from Jordan. “Damn you, Rafe, don’t!”
But his fingers squeezed the trigger.
Sarah saw the flash of white behind him. Piers. Running fast. Snarling. Piers!
A red haze of fury rolled back at her.
She’d promised. Said she wouldn’t control—
The hell with that. Lucas’s life was on the line. She’d do anything for him.
“I win, Simone,” Rafe said, lips raised in a half-grin “I win. I’m the legend now.”
Attack, Piers! Take Rafe down!
Piers slammed into Rafe. They fell in a tangle of fur and arms. The gun discharged, but the bullet didn’t hit Lucas.
Sarah started to breathe again.
Then she realized the bullet had struck Piers. The white wolf slumped to the side. His fur began to vanish.
Growls filled the air now. The wolf shifters in Rafe’s pack. They’d been lurking in the shadows but now they sprang forward. Still in the form of men, but with claws out and teeth sharp.
Jordan pushed her behind him and when the first man attacked, he sliced the guy from neck to groin.
“Lucas,” she whispered. He was on his feet now. His wild eyes focused on her.
“You should be dead!” Rafe shoved away from Piers. “You should be fucking dead!” He had his gun pointed at Lucas again.
Lucas turned toward him.
Rafe fired. Once. Twice.
The bullets drove into Lucas’s chest.
He didn’t stumble. Sarah did. She slipped and fell down behind Jordan. He kept fighting. Slicing and clawing and her chest burned. She touched the skin, expecting to see blood. She felt as if she’d been ripped open.
Not me. Lucas.
What had Marie done?
“You’re not killing me . . .” Lucas’s voice rumbled in the night. “But I am taking you . . . to hell, asshole.” She pushed to her knees. Tried to see—
Rafe fired again. The gun clicked then, the chamber jamming. Yes. Lucas swiped with his claws and cut Rafe’s wrist open. The gun fell from his slack fingers.
Rafe’s eyes flew to her. He saw her on the ground, struggling to rise, and he smiled. “Shift!” He roared the order to his men. “The bitch is weak. She can’t do anything but die!”
Lucas’s head whipped toward her. “Sarah!”
“Shift!” Rafe screamed. “And we kill ’em all!”
“Screw the shift.” Lucas’s claws drove into Rafe’s chest. “You’re fucking dying . . . now.”
But it was too late. The men were already shifting around her. Curses turned to snarls and growls and Jordan fought, taking out three men while they were vulnerable during the change. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. The wolves closed in on Sarah and Jordan.
Chapter 20
The bitch is weak. Rafe’s taunt echoed in her ears. Sarah rose slowly, the fire in her chest and back pulsing and sending waves of nausea through her body.
Not my pain. Not my wound. Though it sure felt like it was.
Jordan slashed with his claws, fighting, struggling for all he was worth. Determined to protect her.
Sarah’s focus narrowed. She stared at the snapping wolves and a slow smile curved her lips. “Guess what, assholes?” She sucked in a deep breath and tasted blood. “I’m not weak.”
Rafe was still alive. Still fighting with Lucas. Swiping with his claws even as Lucas carved a hole in the bastard’s chest. Some people just weren’t easy to kill.
Some were.
Attack Rafe. She ordered his wolves. Kill.
The wolves around her froze.
“Please tell me you’re doing that,” Jordan said. “Please.”
“I am.” She fought to inhale another deep breath. She was in so much pain she could barely stand on her feet. But she didn’t need physical strength. The Other should start understanding that it wasn’t always about physical power.
Attack Rafe.
The wolves spun away and charged at Lucas and Rafe.
Lucas looked up. She saw his eyes widen.
“Back the hell away, Lucas!” Jordan shouted.
Lucas yanked his claws out of Rafe’s chest. Rafe staggered. Blood dripped from his mouth.
The bastard fell.
The wolves swarmed him, attacking their leader at her command.
Sarah’s eyes closed. Kill him . . . then get the hell out of here. Never come back.
Yelps and whimpers had her eyes opening. Looked like the wolves weren’t going to get the chance to run. Lucas was slicing, clawing them, and Dane was at his side. Taking the wolves out. The ones who weren’t already dead turned tail and ran as fast as they could.
Over. Finally, it was over.
Sarah’s shoulders sagged and the last of her energy slipped away. Jordan ran forward, chasing after the fleeing wolves and she fell, her side slamming into the ground. Lucas.
She was so cold. Her body was shaking and her throat—it seemed like she was drowning. She couldn’t suck in enough air. Couldn’t . . .
Sarah saw Lucas fall. He went down, his knees crashing into the earth. Blood soaked his chest. The burning glow in his eyes began to fade.
Rafe had used silver bullets on him. Had they exploded on impact like the others? Three shots.
“Sarah.” She saw his lips move as he whispered her name, and she wanted to go to him. To touch him. To hold him once more.
But she couldn’t move. Rafe was dead, the coyotes were dead, the rival wolves were running—the nightmare was over.
And she was scared. Because Sarah knew that she couldn’t fight anymore. Lucas couldn’t fight. Her heartbeat was slowing, and even though she didn’t have an injury on her body, she knew she was dying.
He lives . . . you live.
She could taste blood on her tongue and see the precious liqui
d drip past Lucas’s lips.
He dies . . .
Her hand lifted toward him. Just one more touch.
He stretched out his hands, trying to crawl to her side. But Lucas was too far away.
Her legs weren’t working. That meant his weren’t.
“Lucas?” Jordan grabbed him, hauling him up, and swearing when he saw the full damage to his brother’s body. “It’s all right. You’re going to be fine!”
Such a liar.
The fire in her chest wasn’t as strong anymore. Sarah kept her eyes on Lucas. She wouldn’t look away from him. If she was dying, he’d be the last thing she saw in this world.
“Now you understand.”
Sarah didn’t look away at the woman’s soft voice. She couldn’t look away. She’d never seen Lucas’s eyes so pale before. They’d always blazed with life and power. Jordan was trying to stop the blood now, screaming at his brother to “Shift!” But Lucas wasn’t changing.
Sarah swallowed twice and finally managed to speak. “I understood . . .” she whispered, “Long before now . . . Jo-Josette . . .”
The woman bent toward her and cool fingers slid over Sarah’s cheeks. “Was the extra time worth the pain you have? Just a few days, that’s all you got . . . and now you share his agony and soon, his death.”
Was it worth it? “I’d do . . . anything.” Everything. The trade was fair.
Josette leaned in close. “You’ve already done everything,” she whispered, her breath light at Sarah’s ear. “Don’t be afraid.”
She wasn’t. Just . . . sad. There was so much she’d hoped to do. Wanted to do. All with Lucas. “Does he . . . have to die?”
“Wrong question.” A slight wind rustled Sarah’s hair. Josette murmured, “You should ask, ‘Do I have to die?’ ”
“Sometimes . . .” So hard to talk now. She licked her lips and tasted more blood. Lucas still hadn’t shifted. Shift. “Others are worth . . . more.”
“Lucas is worth more to you than your own life?”
Shift. If he’d just shift, he might survive.
“Sarah King . . .” Josette’s hand brushed back her hair. “Do you even know when you gave your heart to the wolf?”
Did it matter when? He had it, just as he had her. Mate. Beyond life. Beyond death.