by Tara West
Skoll and Drasko pushed the beasts until they were backed up against the gully. Two more swings, and both monsters fell in, howling and floundering in the icy muck. Drasko and Skoll returned to the truck, shifting and jumping into the cab.
Skoll lurched forward before the tires spun again.
“Fuck!” Drasko hollered as the monsters crawled out of the ditch and came at them again.
“Everyone into the house!” Skoll yelled.
Once again Drasko helped Skoll fend off the creatures while Anton hustled everyone to the house. Bunica was at the rear, clutching her axe like a lifeline. Once he heard the sound of the door bolting behind them, Drasko directed all his attention into killing the werewolves.
Enraged, he charged the beasts, hacking and slicing the air until his blade finally sank into a creature’s ribcage. He pulled out the axe with a victory cry, watching with satisfaction as the beast went to its knees, green ooze dripping from its side. Just when Drasko thought he had the upper hand, the largest of the werewolves returned to the clearing, followed by Ranko Stormwatcher, whose eyes were now glowing red. A big gash in his head dripped blood down his back and one arm hung limply by his side.
Ancients have mercy!
LUC SCENTED SOMETHING in the air. He wasn’t sure what, but it was powerful and dark, reminding him of a demon he’d smelled through the veil. That strange smell was soon replaced by the coppery tang of blood, so profound Luc could practically taste it on his tongue. They were almost upon the Stormwatchers, as they hadn’t bothered concealing their tracks. Luc wasn’t sure if it was safe to continue, so he slowed.
What is it? Hakon asked.
Luc shuddered, an uneasy feeling causing the hair along his spine to stand on end. Something’s wrong.
Is it that strange smell? Rone asked.
Yeah. Luc’s stomach churned as they reached the edge of the forest. Beyond the copse of trees was a small farm. The roof of the house was partially caved in, and the front door was missing. It looked abandoned, but there were two cars in the driveway.
Hakon sniffed the air, his ears flattening. I think I recognize that smell.
It’s the stink of demons, Luc answered. Thin shards of wood hung down from the empty frame, and there were bloody claw marks on the outside wall of the house.
Fuck, Rone said. I didn’t think demons could escape the veil.
Werewolves can. A trail in the snow of fresh paw prints were bigger than any tracks he’d ever seen.
Hakon sidled up to the tracks, sniffing. This smells unnatural. He shifted from a wolf back to a protector and stuck his massive paw inside the print, which was larger than Hakon’s.
The splintering sound of the roof imploding, and the distinctive sound of wolves yelping, got their attention.
We need to check this out, Hakon said. Be on your guard.
They crept up to the house as a wall crumbled, falling outward to reveal two Stormwatcher wolves, shaking under their protector.
Luc looked to Hakon. He wanted to pounce on them, but he knew they had to focus on the bigger threat.
Hakon jutted a foot forward. “Did you see what did this?”
“No.” Aguk frowned and swatted snow and debris off his arms. “The house was like this when we showed up.”
Hakon kicked a splintered board off the remains of a bloody human arm. Luc had no idea where the rest of the body was, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Hakon gave Luc a grim look. “We need to find out what killed these people.”
“Who cares?” Aguk skulked away from the wreckage, his trembling brothers trailing behind him. “We need to go before whatever did this comes for us.”
Spoken like a true coward, Luc said to his brothers.
Hakon said to Aguk, “If we don’t take these demons down, they will slaughter more people, maybe even our families.”
“We’ll worry about that if it happens.” Aguk shared a look with his brothers, who signaled their agreement. “We’re going home.”
“You fucking cowards!”
Aguk and his brothers shifted into wolf form and ran across the rubble, vanishing behind an old barn.
Luc pricked his ears when several gunshots rang out, followed by the distinctive cry of injured wolves.
Hunters! Hakon’s voice shook with urgency. Back into the forest. We need to warn the others.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Why would he leave me?” Daniella was curled up in a fetal position on the floor, vacantly staring at her crying children.
Amara didn’t have the time or patience to answer her. Though she didn’t feel pity for Daniella Stormwatcher, she did feel badly for the babies, who were begging to be held.
“They were going to eat the children,” Daniella wailed, “and he just left.”
She heaved herself onto an old sofa, biting down on her lip as another contraction gripped her. She heard Drasko and Skoll’s grunts and roars outside as they fought for their lives, for everyone’s lives. Oh, how she wished she could shift and help them. She prayed to the Ancients Hakon and the rest of her family would return soon.
Bunica and Anton were in the kitchen, going through drawers and cupboards.
“The beasts might break in, Daniella,” Bunica said. “Do you have any silver knives?”
“He just left our babies,” Daniella said again, covering her face.
Tatiana knelt beside her, shaking her. “Daniella! Silver knives!”
Daniella gaped at her for a long moment before pointing to a cabinet behind a table with mismatched chairs. “My bunica gave me a silver set for our wedding.”
Tatiana removed an oak box from the cabinet and drew out a long knife. “Eureka!”
Bunica took the knife from her, grimacing as she turned it over in her hand. “This will do.” She handed it to Anton before picking up her axe and swinging it over her shoulder as if she was a lumberjack on her way to chop down a tree.
Knife in hand, Anton sat beside Amara on the sofa, patting her knee and keeping watch out the window.
“What’s happening, Anton?” Bunica asked.
He turned to them excitedly. “Drasko got one!” He pumped a fist in the air. “He’s down! One more to go.”
Dear Goddess, please keep Drasko safe, Amara prayed. She panted shallowly as another contraction took hold of her.
Bunica knelt beside Anton. “What about the big one that chased Ranko?”
Anton said, “I don’t see him.”
“Do you think he killed my mate?” Daniella asked, chewing on her thumb. Her babies had given up trying to get comfort from their mother and had crawled into Tatiana’s lap. She rocked them and dried their tears, whispering soothing words into their ears. She’d make a good mother one day... if they survived the night.
Bunica shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Daniella rolled onto her back, sobbing into her hands. That’s when Amara noticed Daniella’s stomach bulge. Though she wasn’t as far along as Amara, she was clearly pregnant.
“Great Ancients!” Anton hollered.
“What is it?” Bunica asked and then she went eerily still as she stared out the window.
“Do you see Ranko?” Daniella asked, sitting up.
Pity was in Bunica’s eyes when she looked sideways at her.
“Ranko?” Daniella persisted. “What happened to him? Please tell me.”
“They’ve turned him,” Bunica said shortly.
Daniella let out a heart-wrenching wail. Her babies followed their mother’s lead, hysterical and inconsolable while Tatiana tried to calm them.
Anton turned to Bunica, his mouth a firm line. “I need to go help them.”
Bunica jerked back as if she’d been scalded. “You’ll do no such thing. You leave this to the protectors.”
Anton shook his head. “They’re outnumbered.”
Bunica clutched her throat. “You’ll be turned if they bite you, too.”
Anton stood and removed his shirt and pants. “I
won’t let them get me.”
Amara didn’t want Anton to go either, but he was right. Drasko and Skoll needed help.
He grabbed Bunica by her silvery hair, kissing her tenderly on the temple before slipping out the door.
Clutching the axe to her chest, Bunica stared at the door, tears falling down her face. Amara wanted to go to her, but then another pain hit her so hard, she doubled over. “Ahhh! No, baby, no! Not yet!”
Bunica came to Amara’s side, pressing her back down onto the sofa. “Deep breaths, pui de lup,” she said, stroking Amara’s forehead. “Breathe.” Bunica waved Daniella over. “Get me hot water and towels.”
Daniella sat there, gaping at Bunica as if she was in a trance.
“Daniella!” Bunica snapped. “You will have to mourn later. Get moving or take the babies from Tatiana and tell her where to get the supplies.”
Daniella stumbled to her feet and shuffled into the kitchen like a zombie.
Amara covered her ears when an agonized howl shattered what little thread of sanity she had left. She prayed her family was winning the battle, though she didn’t have the strength to look out the window.
Bunica laid Amara on her back and removed her boots and socks.
“Bunica,” Amara said. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” she answered. “I’m delivering your baby.”
CONSTANTINE FACED HIS enemies, waiting for his grandfather to give the signal to strike. He couldn’t wait to dig his claws into Albescu throats. He was tired of the rivalry between the two clans. Tonight it would end.
Chieftain Obren tore a small tree out by the roots, heaving it between the two clans. A line had been drawn. He couldn’t wait to cross it.
Both clans turned at the rumble of an engine and the blaring of a horn. Van Thunderfoot barreled into the clearing and came to a screeching halt. He jumped out of the truck, waving his arms. “Stop! Stop!” His eyes were golden and aglow. “The Devoras have escaped the forest. They’re on a warpath.”
Obren waved a hairy fist at Van. “What trick is this?”
“No trick,” Van said, turning to Klaus. “Amara had a vision of the unholy beasts. They are headed to their old home.”
“Daniella!” Atan howled. “We must save her!” He gestured to his second alpha and sons. Together they began removing the trees blocking their trucks.
“Stop!” Obren called, glaring at his son. “They could be tricking us.”
“What if they’re not?” Atan heaved the last limb out of the way. “I refuse to take that risk. Our daughter’s life could be in danger.”
Several gunshots rang out, and everyone froze.
“Hunters!” Bunic Klaus said. “To the trucks!”
Van spun around. “Where are my sons?”
Bunic Klaus pointed a shaky finger in the direction of the shots. “They chased the Stormwatchers.”
Van’s face paled, and he fell against his truck. “Great Ancients.”
Hakon and his brothers broke into the clearing, panting and looking over their shoulders. “We need to go!” Hakon called.
Atan pushed through the crowd, heedless of his enemies as they growled and kicked up dirt. “Where are my daughter’s mates?”
Hakon stuck a thumb over his shoulder. “The hunters got them.”
“Ancients, nooo!” Atan buckled, grabbing his gut.
“There’s more,” Hakon said between heaving breaths. “Demons escaped from the veil. I think it’s the Devoras. They ate a human family.”
“This is all your fault!” Atan pointed an accusatory finger at his father. “I told you we needed to guard the veil longer, but you refused to listen. Now our daughter’s mates are dead.”
Obren retreated, holding out his palms. “We don’t know that they’re dead.”
Atan let out a howl. “If our daughter takes her life, I will never forgive you!”
Hakon recalled the story of how the Stormwatchers’ ancestors’ mate had killed herself, leaving her children orphaned after discovering all of her mates had died in the war.
“We’re wasting time.” Klaus waved his family to the trucks. “We can point fingers later.”
Everyone shifted and piled into the vehicles. Constantine’s fathers and grandfathers had to ride in the back of Obren and Atan’s trucks while the Thunderfoots rode with Van. When Constantine and his brothers jumped into the back of Van’s truck, he tore off before they’d sat down, plowing through the snow and ice at a breakneck pace. Constantine gripped the sides, praying they made it home in one piece and that his family and future mate were unharmed.
DRASKO RAISED HIS AXE while slowly circling the largest of the werewolves. This had to be the alpha; his arms and legs were thicker than the other two, and he was at least a head taller than Drasko. Two dagger-like fangs protruded from his mouth like walrus tusks, dripping venom down his neck and leaving blackened scars along the beast’s torso. The creature didn’t seem to acknowledge the pain as he licked his lips with a snake-like gray tongue. His red glowing eyes contained the fires of hell.
Behind the alpha, his newly-turned creature, Ranko Stormwatcher, shuffled from foot to foot, continually looking over his shoulder as if he was on the verge of escape. Even as a vicious demon, Ranko was still a coward.
Drasko kept his eye on both beasts while his father battled another.
When the alpha barked something unintelligible at Ranko, he moved closer, clawing the air. Defeating Ranko would be easy if he managed to get past the first beast. He shook his head and gritted his teeth. He had to kill it. He had no choice. If Drasko fell, his father wouldn’t be able to defend himself against three werewolves, which meant Amara and Tatiana would be their next victims. He couldn’t let that happen.
A wolf barreled out of the house, fangs on display, and snapped at the werewolves. Drasko recognized Anton’s scent.
“Go for the weakest,” Drasko said.
Anton snapped at Ranko, driving him back while dodging his venom. When Ranko lunged for Anton, the clumsy demon slipped on the ice, landing with a thunderous crack.
The alpha werewolf turned for a split second to look at Ranko, and that’s when Drasko drove his blade into the beast’s knee, slicing through tendons with a sickening crunch, as if the monster was made of petrified wood. Green ooze shot out of its leg in a geyser. He tumbled to the ground, releasing a howl of agony.
His werewolf brother turned toward the sound, then leaped through the air, claws stretched toward Drasko’s throat. Drasko drove his blade into the beast’s neck, spinning out of the way when venom shot from him like a busted firehose. He landed face-down in the snow, twitching and then going still. Skoll raced up to the alpha, finishing him off with an axe through his back, splitting him open like a hollow tree trunk.
The beast was nothing but matted fur and bones, his insides devoid of organs, except for the sludgy green goo that poured onto the ground.
Drasko heaved a sigh of relief when the alpha stilled. He shooed Anton away while he and his father circled Ranko Stormwatcher. Ranko whimpered and cowered like an injured puppy, shielding his face with his hands when Drasko came near. Damn. Drasko didn’t want to kill him, but he had no choice. He raised his axe to strike, then paused, feeling a pang of regret.
That pause was all Ranko needed to spring, knocking the axe out of Drasko’s hand with amazing speed and power. Drasko punched the beast in the neck, then screamed when it clamped down on his arm, driving its venomous fangs into his flesh. Ranko grunted, then released him, falling off Drasko with an axe protruding from his back.
Drasko gaped at his father and then at the oozing wound on his arm, horrified when it began to bubble and boil. He howled when the poison raced through his veins as if thousands of venomous spiders were gnawing on every muscle, every nerve-ending. Cradling his arm, he curled into a fetal ball. Great Ancients, no! If he turned into a werewolf, he could kill his family. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Kill me, Father!” he begge
d, his voice dark and grim, as if some other creature had taken control of him. “Kill me.”
“BREATHE, PUI DE LUP,” Bunica said to Amara as she stood at the kitchen sink and filled a pot with water. “Breathe.”
Amara panted hard as another contraction seized her. Her water hadn’t broken, but damn, the pain was so bad, she knew it wouldn’t be long.
Tatiana knelt on the sofa beside her, looking out the window while holding Amara’s hand.
“What’s happening outside?” Amara asked.
Tatiana jumped up, her expression suddenly joyful. “The werewolves are down!”
“All of them?”
“Yes!” Tatiana howled her delight. She flashed a wary look at Daniella, who was clinging to her children and sulking in the corner. Tatiana leaned over Amara, whispering in her ear. “Drasko is about to finish off the Stormwatcher.”
Amara sank into the sofa cushion. “Oh, thank the Ancients.”
When an agonizing cry rent the air, Tatiana paled and released Amara’s hand.
Amara froze, feeling as if time had come to a standstill and all the air had been sucked out of the room. That had been Drasko’s cry. “Tatiana? What’s happening?”
When Tatiana didn’t respond, she knew something was terribly wrong.
Bunica went to the window. “Oh, pui de lup!” She fell onto the sofa, taking Amara’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”
Ignoring the intense pain in her abdomen, Amara pulled herself up to look.
Drasko had rolled into a fetal position and was holding his arm. Even from a distance, she saw that he was in agony. Her heart lurched, and somehow she found the strength to get off the sofa and wrap a blanket around her waist. She had to get to Drasko before it was too late.
“Tatiana,” she ordered. “Unlatch the door.”
Bunica got to her feet. “Amara, what are you doing?”
She plowed past her bunica when she tried to block her path. “I have to save him.” After all they’d been through, there was no way she was losing Drasko.
“No, Amara.” Bunica clutched her arm. “He will kill you.”