by Mary Lindsey
Muscles straining, he attempted to pull his chest above the pulp line but was too weak to grab the next rung up. With a groan, he sagged back down where it was easier to hang on.
He’d imagined his death frequently while living on the streets, but never, ever had he imagined drowning in a vat of wine. But then, he hadn’t imagined people who morphed into Moon Creatures, either—powerful, primal things. A vision of Freddie in her wolf skin flickered in his brain. Silver and white with pale-blue eyes. Then he thought of the sight of his own paws and tail with dark fur and ashen tips. He imagined running in the moonlight next to her.
It started as a tingle. Like a toothache before it got bad, only it was deep in his bones, stretching to be freed. Heat pulsed in the wounds in his leg and shoulder as the wolf swelled closer to the surface, growling with rage. Growling for its mate.
Wearing what was certainly a goofy grin, Rain wrapped his shortening fingers around a ladder wrung and pulled up, lifting himself several rungs, one after another. And while the pain was still unbearable, the weakness started to subside.
Please let it be open. He reached the top and pushed open the hatch right as a gunshot sounded, reverberations rocketing around the tank along with his terror. Rain pulled himself up enough to look out the top.
He couldn’t see anything close to the tank from this vantage point, but on the far side of the room, Klaus and Thomas were squared off, both breathing heavily. Klaus had the gun pointed at his son, whose body language screamed defeat—shoulders slouched and arms limp at his sides. For a moment, pity flared, trickling like ice water in Rain’s chest. Maybe not ever knowing your father was better than knowing he was an evil prick.
As silently as possible, Rain climbed out of the circular hatch. Other than some extra hair on his arms and a darkening of his fingernails, he was still completely human. The wine hadn’t worked, but at least he wasn’t dead. And the partial shift he’d experienced seemed to have helped with his strength and wounds. If only his wolf had fully emerged…
Once on the landing, he crouched and peered through the metal grating. There was no sign of Freddie, but a wide crimson trail led from the pool of blood under the landing to the front door. She’d gotten Merrick out where he could heal—hopefully far, far away from Haven, where she was safe, too.
Klaus’s voice was a growl. “How did Ulrich and Merrick get out of the cellar?”
Thomas shook his head and took a step back. “I dunno. I was in the vineyard looking for you and when I came back, he was out, and he locked me in there.”
“You attacked me.” Still advancing on his son, Klaus lowered the gun.
“When you opened the door, I-I thought you were one of them.”
In a flash, Klaus backhanded his son with the gun handle, sending him to the floor. “And now I’ve lost the girl, too. I’d intended to put her in the cellar with her family, but she bolted when you lunged at me.”
Thomas stayed down, which was probably a move he’d used with his dad before. For a brief moment, Rain felt sorry for him—until he realized he might have known about his father’s plan all along.
Klaus leveled a hard kick at his son’s side, sending him into a ball facing the stairs to the tank. “Charles Ericksen issued a kill order on all of them before the culling. He’s coming to collect them any minute and they’re gone!” Another kick landed in the middle of his back, but Thomas didn’t make a sound, he just rolled tighter. “I did this for you.”
“No, you didn’t.” Thomas groaned. He opened his eyes, and they widened as he stared at the puddle of blood where Merrick had been, then he looked up—directly at Rain, drawing Klaus’s attention as well.
Shit! He was dripping through the grating. Wine and blood steadily dropped from where Rain crouched on the landing. How could he have been so stupid? As Klaus raised the gun, Rain made a lunge for the tank opening but never made it. This one wasn’t a flesh wound. This time, Klaus hit his mark. A shot to the gut took Rain out of play like flipping off a light switch.
“Rain!” Freddie’s voice cut through the haze in Rain’s brain. “Oh God. No.”
Curled on his side on the grate above her, arms across his middle where he’d been shot, he could only watch as she sprinted across the room from the front door toward the stairs. He couldn’t even warn her when Klaus turned and started to level the gun at her.
And then, everything transitioned from hazy to slow motion—like an underwater scene with smooth movements as his brain and body began shutting down. Rain wondered if there was really a heaven. It couldn’t possibly be better than the time he’d spent with Freddie. And as Klaus leveled the gun at her chest, he wondered if they’d find out about heaven together.
From his ball on the floor, Thomas kicked out in a circle, catching his dad’s ankle, sending him down right as the gun went off, the bullet lodging somewhere in the front wall. Freddie lunged, plowing into Klaus before he even hit the ground, and the gun flew from his hand, crashing across the concrete and sliding under the de-stemmer. Freddie wrapped her body around Klaus’s legs and kept him from reaching the gun while Thomas, no doubt with broken ribs and internal injuries, crawled across the floor and snatched it.
“Go take Rain outside, Freds,” Thomas said, voice raspy. “I’ve got this.” It was as if his voice were from far away and in a sound mixer of some kind. Almost liquid.
After looking from Thomas, who had the gun pointed at his father, to Rain, then back again, Freddie bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Rain wanted to tell her not to worry, not to cry, but all he could do was stare at her beautiful face and blink back his own tears.
Worth it, he mouthed. And it was. She was safe, and it had been worth every bullet and bite.
“You’ve gotta shift,” she said, moving his hand to look at the new wound. “Oh shit. You’ve gotta shift now, Rain.”
He couldn’t answer. Could only stare.
“You’re too much of a coward to use that gun, Thomas,” Klaus taunted. “You’re such a coward, you wouldn’t even fight a girl.”
“She’s not a… Well, she is a girl… She’s the Alpha and a girl.”
“Pathetic little wimp. Give me the gun. Now!”
“Shift, Rain. Do it for me,” Freddie urged, scraping her nails across his scalp like he loved. “I can’t carry you down to get you outside. You’ve gotta do it here.”
“I’m not a wimp or a coward,” Thomas said, voice trembling like the tip of the gun. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else. I stand behind my Alpha.”
Klaus barked a laugh. “She’ll never be Alpha. There’s a kill order on her, you idiot. I tried to give Alpha to you and was even willing to save her by making a plea to Charles to make her your mate, but you’re throwing everything away. You’ll be kenneled and euthanized like the rest of them.”
Freddie’s hair brushed across Rain’s face, and he smiled at the memories of when it had done that before. “Rain. Are you listening? Shift, dammit. You’re gonna die.”
Whatever, his mind whispered like it always did when he was frightened, only the fear was tempered with a bizarre calm, probably from the lack of blood to his brain from taking three bullets. How many fucking bullets did Klaus have in that gun, anyway? His mind wandered to Ruby, and he wished he’d told her he loved her like he had Freddie. No regrets. She knew how he felt.
Freddie huffed. “Well, screw you, then. I don’t have time to wait around for Klaus to get the gun.”
Rain’s Zen-like calm shattered when Freddie reached under him and then shoved him off the side of the landing, sending him plummeting to the concrete below. And this time, things didn’t move in slow motion.
Forty-Five
Everything in his body was broken. No doubt about it. Three bullets and pulp for bones—this was far more in keeping with how Rain had imagined his death during his years on the streets.
Freddie had shoved him off the landing. Maybe she considered it a mercy killing. Maybe it was because he was too weak to shift and therefore u
seless, or maybe she didn’t want him or… No. He wouldn’t go there. He’d keep his mind positive. His last thoughts would be positive.
“What did you do that for, Freddie?” Thomas practically shrieked. “You killed him.”
“He killed himself,” she said, coming down the stairs. “I’m trying to save him.”
“Give me the gun right now, Thomas, or I’ll end you myself, rather than let Charles do it,” Klaus ordered.
“Shut up, Dad,” Thomas shouted. “Shut up or I’ll shut you up.”
Freddie’s face wavered as she leaned over him. “Stay with me, Rain.” She gently kissed his lips, and things came back into focus slightly. “I’m going to drag you outside where you can shift. I’m…I’m so sorry. Rolling you off the landing was my only choice; you’re too big to carry.”
His smart, brave Freddie. No way in hell would he have had the balls to throw her to her death like that. And it didn’t matter whether she got him outside or not; he was done. He groaned as she lifted his arms to drag him out like she’d done Merrick. The pain that shot through his body like lightning with each of her steps revived him a bit.
After being lugged a few excruciating feet, several things happened at once: The front door slammed open and people poured in. While Thomas was distracted, Klaus tackled him to the ground. There was a lot of shouting and movement in the crowd that muddled Rain’s brain as father and son wrestled in the middle of the floor. Then, the gun went off and everyone froze.
Silence. Silence so loud it hurt—or maybe it was just that everything already hurt. The only thing that grounded Rain was Freddie’s tight grip on his wrists.
“Dad.” Thomas’s voice came out in a wheeze as he pushed his dad off him and backed up several steps, where Ulrich Burkhart caught him.
“Self-defense, son,” Ulrich said, holding Thomas steady. “Grant, where’s the chief? You were supposed to bring her.”
“We did. She took off toward the vineyard.”
“He murdered Klaus,” someone shouted.
“I’ve gotta get you outside,” Freddie said, setting back into motion and dragged him past Klaus’s body lying facedown on the concrete.
“I’ll take it from here,” a voice behind Freddie said.
She came to a halt but didn’t loosen her grip on Rain’s wrists. “I’m taking him outside to shift so he can heal.”
“No need. You’ll be healing him for nothing. He’s slated for euthanasia. It didn’t work out. He’s defective.”
“Defective my ass,” Freddie growled, resuming the excruciating pull toward the door. “The only things defective about him are the bullets Klaus put into him.”
Charles Ericksen leaned in so that he was in Rain’s range of sight. So close to Freddie that only she could hear—and Rain, of course, but the guy had clearly written him off as dead. “Listen to me, Friederike. It’s over. I’ll allow Kurt to live and become Alpha if you go along quietly. Otherwise, he will be put down with you and the rest of your family.”
“Try it,” she said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “My pack won’t allow it.”
“You don’t have a pack. Nobody would follow a Watcher who can’t even hold her shift,” he answered with equal volume.
The people in the room reacted in a burst of noise. It sounded like a beehive in Rain’s fuzzy brain.
“It’s true,” Charles announced. “She hasn’t been able to hold her wolf form since her father’s tragic accident.”
More angry, fuzzy bee noises and several calls for another culling. With that much noise, the entire pack must have been in the room.
Freddie released Rain’s wrists and got on all fours next to him. “I’m not going to be able to get past them. I’m so sorry. I tried. I…” She leaned closer to where her lips were against his ear. “I love you, too, Rain Ryland.”
His heart squeezed painfully, surpassing his other injuries.
“Hans Burkhart’s death was not an accident,” Petra’s voice rang over the buzzing. “He was murdered.”
“You would know, because you did it, witch,” someone else called.
“That was a rumor started by the coven.” That voice belonged to Grant. “By my dad.”
Everything in Rain wanted to simply let go, to sleep, but he couldn’t—not with Freddie in danger.
“Unfit to lead, just like Klaus said,” another person shouted.
“She can’t maintain her wolf,” Charles repeated. “The rules are clear.” He was still near enough to hear papers rustle as he pulled them out of his pocket. “I hold in my hand kill orders for the entire Burkhart family. They are a detriment to the pack. And with the murder of his father, Thomas Weigl will be added to the list.”
“This whole thing is a setup,” Freddie shouted. “Nothing but manipulation to take the power my dad fought so hard for away from the pack. Away from all of us.”
The buzzing of voices got louder as the pack’s control teetered on the edge, reminding Rain of a street gang. Growing up, he’d seen the destruction caused by group frenzy. If someone didn’t do something soon, Charles’s kill orders wouldn’t be necessary; Freddie’s own pack mates would take care of it, just like they had with the guy with the beard in the vineyard.
“She can’t lead!” Someone shouted.
“Get her outside and we’ll handle it the old way,” someone else said. “We don’t need Weavers to take care of this.”
Cheers erupted.
Oh, shit. They were going to hurt her.
Freddie screamed in rage. “Get your hands off me!”
There was a scuffling of shoes and grunting along with the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh. They were hurting her.
Rain rolled to his side. He was broken—more than broken, he was smashed to pieces—but he’d be damned if he’d let this happen. Something in him—something primal and powerful—willed him to fight. That beast inside wasn’t going down with a whimper. Not when someone he loved was in danger. The inability to shift form is often a side effect of depression or anxiety or fear. It’s the ultimate weakness, Freddie had said that night she’d snuck in through his bedroom window. Nobody would ever accuse him of being weak, but he was afraid, no doubt about it. More than anything, though, he was mad. So mad, his insides felt like they were boiling.
His heart pounded so painfully, it felt as though every beat would be its last. He squeezed his eyes shut, but this time, he didn’t imagine Freddie in her human form. He saw her in her wolf skin, and she needed him. Needed his wolf. And as he howled in pain and anger, he realized that the beast inside him needed her, too, and the only thing in its way was him. It was time for his fear and weak, broken human body to get the hell out of the way.
Forty-Six
The shift happened quickly and was evidently spectacular because the room fell completely silent as Rain pushed to his feet—his four feet. He could actually feel his flesh stitching back together as his body healed itself. Teeth bared, he growled, scanning the room for the people hurting Freddie.
Twenty or so feet away, the three men and a woman dragging her toward the door stopped in their tracks and released her in stunned disbelief. Freddie spun to face him. Her expression of desolation changed to one of absolute joy, which made his body buzz with power.
“He’s impervious to the wards,” someone said.
“He’s an abomination!” Charles shouted. “Dangerous to the pack.”
The several dozen shifters in human form were clearly confused, gazes darting around the room for an answer or direction. Like a gang, they were seeking instruction from a leader. Freddie ran to Rain right as the door where they’d been dragging her slammed open.
“Dangerous to you, maybe, Mr. Ericksen,” Merrick said, striding in the room. “But not to the pack.” His right hand and arm were missing halfway to the elbow, but he wasn’t bleeding anymore.
Freddie’s fingers tightened in Rain’s fur, and his body buzzed with power, like she was supercharging him with her touch
. “You did it,” she said, crouching to put herself at eyelevel. “I knew you were strong enough.” She clutched a handful of his ruff, as if seeking strength of her own. “And so am I. You were right. It’s time for me to step up,” she whispered in his ear before standing and holding up a hand to silence the room.
“It’s time for the pack to stand on its own,” Freddie said, voice strong. “To follow the path my father forged and died for.”
“Enough,” Charles said. “We’ll hear no more.”
“I want to hear more.”
Rain swiveled toward the voice and found Chief Richter in the back entrance to the building and wondered how long she’d been there. How much she’d heard.
“I also want to know who cosigned the kill orders on the Burkhart family,” she said.
With his wolf ears, Rain could hear Charles’s heartbeat speed up. The whole room was awash with sound and sweat and fear.
Klaus’s body lay facedown in the middle between Freddie and her pack mates like a bloody line in the sand. Freddie’s fingers gripped Rain’s shoulder as she addressed the pack. “Klaus convinced you that I wasn’t fit to lead. For years, he spread rumors that I was unpredictable and weak and what a loser I’d be as Alpha.” Her fingers tightened in his hair. “And you believed him—a guy who admitted to killing Gerald and tried to start an uprising by ordering the attack of a human. A man who was going to kill his own son and all his cousins.”
She pointed at his body. “You’d believe and follow him, forsaking all my dad did for you, and now, you’re taking orders from a Weaver who says this wolf”—she gestured to Rain—“is defective. Why? Because he’s powerful enough to shift in this room? Because he doesn’t succumb to the coven’s wards? Maybe none of us should. Maybe it’s time for the subordination and brainwashing to stop.” She narrowed her eyes. “If you’d follow them like mindless sheep, rather than listen to your inner beasts, then I’m not sure you’re worth leading anyway.”
And with that, she strode toward the back door and Chief Richter.