Revenge of the Wronged

by Hettie Ivers

  “Yes, but seriously? As you’re extracting it by killing me?”

  “Yes. Milena, if you can’t control it, everyone around you is as good as dead straight out of the gates.”

  Great. “Fine.” I nodded my concurrence, even though I didn’t have a fucking clue how I was going to accomplish this.

  “Secondly”—she held up her forefinger and middle finger—“do not, under any circumstances, allow Alex to follow you when I pull you between worlds. Your connection with Alex is what will pull you back through to the world of the living once I’ve made my exit with your blood curse. If he follows you … well, there’s a good chance neither of you would make it back. And I do have such fond memories of Alex and the way he used to—”

  “Got it! I got it.” I held both hands up to cut her off lest she digress into TMI stories involving Alex.

  “Miles!” The same young woman’s panicked cry cut so sharply through my dreamscape, the false reality surrounding me momentarily wavered, rippling with magic.

  “Miles, wake up! Help me!”

  Miles? No female other than Lupe ever addressed me as Miles. And it wasn’t Lupe’s voice calling for me.

  Maribel’s brow shot up as she observed the disturbance that the woman’s call—laced with magic—managed to make as it wove its way through my dreamscape. “Impressive,” she said under her breath, appearing more startled than impressed, before quickly masking her reaction with a bland, contrived smile. “That reminds me, please give Alcaeus my condolences.”

  What? I stared bug-eyed at her—terrified to ask.

  “One day he’ll understand.” She nodded at a spot on the rippling ground, and I got the impression the psycho was attempting to reassure herself rather than me with that statement. What the fuck was going to happen to Alcaeus?

  “Goddamnit, somebody help me! Wake up, Miles! Please!”

  “What about Alcaeus?” I shouted the question at Maribel as the garden mirage around us began to tremble and shatter, Maribel’s pouty-lipped, shrugging form fading before my eyes.

  “I needed the perfect trifecta to draw out and pull apart the heart of the curse. Al agreed to be the guardian of Hector’s bloodline. With great responsibility comes great sacrifice.”

  “What the hell are you saying?” I demanded. “Spit it out!”

  “Milena, I already told you,” she said with a sigh, her violet eyes projecting a level of false innocence and pretentious confusion that was maddening. “I am not your friend. And there is no one and nothing in existence I value more than Kai.”

  She smiled, a sweet, nostalgic curl shaping her lips as her form vanished. Only her final parting words remained as the images surrounding me faded to black and my dream state gave way to wakefulness. “I look forward to seeing you on the other side.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I fell out of bed with a thump and sprang to my feet, disoriented and baffled as to what in the world I was doing back in the guest bedroom at Alcaeus’s house when I’d fallen asleep at Alex’s. But there was no time for such questions. I ran from the bedroom and down the stairs, toward the call of the woman screaming “Miles” and the stench of fresh blood.

  Bursting into Alcaeus’s living room, my sleep-muddled eyes had mere moments to register the carnage I’d stumbled upon before my bare feet were skidding out from beneath me, felled by the slick yet viscous pool of bright blood surrounding the large, prone form of Maribel’s first unfortunate sacrifice of the morning: Kaleb.

  No, no, no …

  “I can’t stop the bleeding! Nothing’s working!”

  Toppled on the floor beside her, I needed no introduction to know that the dark-haired young woman who beseeched me with her jewel-green, tear-soaked eyes as she frantically pressed both hands to Kaleb’s bloody chest wound, could only be Lupe’s daughter, Jussara. The familial likeness was unmistakable.

  “Everyone’s blocking. They’re all at the meeting. I can’t fucking reach anyone!”

  Upon taking rapid inventory of the four empty syringes littering the bloodstained floor around me, along with a fifth one—also empty—protruding from a vein in Kaleb’s arm, I gathered Jussara had already exhausted the Reinoso werelock pack’s preferred method of healing via magical intravenous push to no avail. Fuck.

  “We need Kai, Miles, quickly!”

  Kneeling amid the sticky wetness so swiftly escaping and surrounding Kaleb despite his mammoth size and powerful build, I knew “quickly” would never be fast enough. His handsome face was ghost white; even his lips were ashen. His big body trembled. His heartbeat was slow and irregular, and his eyes had already assumed that vacant, void look I had seen on my mother at the end as he stared unblinkingly up at us.

  As strong and impressive of a werelock soldier that he was, Kaleb was no match for whatever terrible magic that undead madwoman behind his demise had employed. And to see him reduced to Maribel’s breakfast of “life energy” was like throwing napalm on my already enflamed hatred for her—a contempt that burned so hot I felt my heart hardening, freezing over in self-preservation.

  “What happened?” The question escaped me in a far calmer voice than it should have, considering the horror I was confronting, the level of vengeance I was harvesting.

  “Get Kai!” Jussara sob-shrieked. “Kai’ll fix it. I’ll keep his heart pumping until he gets here.”

  It was then that I caught the critical detail I’d overlooked before amidst the mess of blood and broken supernatural wolfman before me. Jussara wasn’t administering chest compressions; one of her hands was actually inside of Kaleb’s chest, holding and massaging his slow-beating heart in an effort to keep it going. Kai couldn’t fix this.

  “S’no good, Juju,” Kaleb slurred.

  “Oh, fuck you, Kaleb!” she shouted. “You will not die, goddamnit! It can’t happen, you hear me? This makes no fucking sense.” She unleashed a scream of frustration and anguish that should’ve shattered every glass window in the vicinity.

  Kaleb’s lips parted in a smile, and he actually chuckled. Or coughed, rather. But I knew it had started as a chuckle and was meant as such. And the moment of unexpected character would forever endear him to me in memory.

  “What happened?” I asked again, gently squeezing Kaleb’s large, blood-drenched hand in mine and addressing him directly this time. I already knew who had happened, but I needed to understand how she’d orchestrated it if I was to have any chance at stopping her.

  His eyes drifted and locked on me. Thin, yellow striations in his irises were giving way to dull, lifeless grey, and somehow I knew his wolf was dying. The man wouldn’t be far behind. His throat worked; his lips parted.

  “My mom stabbed him with her machete,” Jussara supplied before he could work up the energy to answer. “It was only a joke,” she inserted defensively when my head swung in her direction, my features aghast. “Or maybe he pissed her off and she was angry. Fuck, I don’t know what happened or why. I was sleeping, same as you. But she’s stabbed him before; it’s not like this was the first time,” she rationalized. “She’s used that machete on dozens of werelocks over the years, and only once—or maybe twice—was it fatal because she took a whole head off. He should’ve healed immediately! It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Darkest magic …” Kaleb croaked. “Sorcery … of undead.” He’d already guessed the score. And he was right.

  “She didn’t mean it,” Jussara proclaimed, breaking down into sobs as she gave in to her grief and accepted the futility of the situation. “She would never do this on purpose.”

  “Know it, Juju,” Kaleb said with a feeble smile. His eyes sought mine when Jussara proceeded to bawl, bowing her head and curling in against his chest. “Lupe. Guilty innocent,” he whispered, managing to look at once tormented and at peace as he solved a centuries-long prophecy riddle. “Lupe’s death begins our war.”

  Jussara’s body tensed against Kaleb’s chest, her sobs abruptly halting.

  “Have to stop it. Go … Now.” Ka
leb coughed weakly and his eyes lost focus, rolling blankly up to the ceiling as he mumbled, “She can’t reach meeting … Salvatella.”

  “Fucking fuck!” Jussara’s exclamation captured my sentiments exactly.

  “Wait … meeting? Now? What’s he mean? The Salvatella meeting isn’t until tonight.”

  “They came early,” Jussara said as she leapt to her feet and shredded the bloodstained sleep clothes straight from her body. “Dead seers thing freaking everyone out.”

  She reached down and hauled me up to standing. My bloody sleep set was torn off as well. “Come on, come on, there’s no time.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me out the front door at a sprinter’s pace as I heard the sound of Kaleb’s heartbeat silence behind us. “I’d never be able to get past all of the guards Alex has in place. But you will.”

  Jussara shifted the moment we cleared the porch, and I followed suit, knowing we were racing straight into Maribel’s trap, but understanding that there was no other choice.

  “That reminds me, please give Alcaeus my condolences.” The memory of that French bitch’s cavalier request rung fresh in my ears, and I took the lead, charging ahead of Jussara as we approached the first wall of guards.

  I growled out a warning before shifting back to human form when it seemed they had no intention of dispersing and allowing us to pass. Jussara remained in canine form, growling up a frenzy and snapping her jaws at the guards like a rabid, junkyard dog as she ran wildly back and forth along the lineup, searching for a weak chink in the link. The girl was bold as hell, and her gumption bolstered my own sense of courage.

  “Listen up!” I shouted in greeting to the wall of supernaturals blocking us. Hand at my hip, I stood completely naked, exposed to a sea of eyes, in both wolf and human form, and proceeded to unleash my mom’s most deathly serious pointer finger down the lineup as I informed them, “I’m Milena. Alex’s mate … and Alpha.”

  I paused a beat as animal ears pricked up, human eyes widened, and all eyes shot up from my privates to my face.

  “I’m harboring the heart of Joaquin Salvatella’s infamous, vicious blood curse.” There was no time to waste mincing words. “If you haven’t heard by now, the curse is defective and has a highly volatile ricochet effect that will automatically attack and annihilate anyone and everyone in my path the minute just one ignorant asshole tries to fuck with me or stand in my way.”

  Bodies stiffened. Eyes flitted from me, to one another, to me again.

  But they didn’t move. Belatedly it dawned that the guards were all male in the group, near as I could see. Right. I would have to spell it out then.

  “And I am not afraid to fucking use it this morning if I have to!”

  They parted like the Red Sea. Naturally, men and dogs alike responded better to a more direct, authoritative approach.

  Not wanting to come off as a total homicidal bitch, though, I threw a friendly finger wave and tossed out an awkward “Thanks again for coming” and “Please spread the word” at the dumbstruck crowd before shifting and sprinting after Jussara.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I love Alex!”

  A sea of familiar faces and strangers alike turned to regard me as if I’d just proclaimed that a bomb was about to go off in the mansion.

  My eyes quickly scanned the banquet hall, skimming over an irate-looking Alcaeus, whose arguing I’d interrupted when I’d first forced my way into the room, to pause on Lessa’s “aw” expression, then land on Bethany’s bug-eyed yet otherwise thankfully uninjured face, to settle on Alex’s shell-shocked one, before realizing that Remy, Gabriel, and many others were all blatantly staring at my breasts. And other lady parts.

  “You’re naked!” my brother announced the obvious, his face screwing up with disgust and horror before he quickly covered his eyes. A second later I was magically clad in an oversized Hannah Montana “Best of Both Worlds” concert T-shirt.

  Nice. Another testament to how much time Raul and I had lost. Also revealing to see that he could apparently conjure clothing already. What the heck?

  “It’s my fault.” Jussara rushed to my side—dressed far more dignified and fashion-appropriate than I was, I noted. I needed to learn that trick. “I dragged her here in wolf form.”

  I knew she’d said the “dragged her here” part for Alex’s benefit more so than my brother’s, as no doubt Alex hadn’t been counting on my presence during this meeting of supernaturals. He had looked equal parts terrified and charmed by my entrance and declaration.

  “Alex and I”—my eyes sought Raul’s as I pressed on—“we’re mates.” It felt super-weird saying it out loud. I stole a glance at Bethany, who was standing next to my brother, and noted that her eyebrows looked like they were about to disappear into her hairline—confirming how weird it likely sounded aloud as well.

  Or possibly she was still reacting to my conjured Miley Cyrus T-shirt.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m in love with Alex. And I … I want to be with him.” Unable to endure the fury blossoming on my brother’s face, I chanced a look at Alex then. He appeared stunned. And maybe just a little bit … humbled. Vulnerable. Adorable, my inner she-wolf decided.

  “So … so there’s nothing for the packs to be fighting over,” I proceeded, looking to Gabriel. “Least … nothing that has to do with me. Because I’m not a hostage. I’m here with the Reinoso pack because I want to be.”

  Gabriel was standing next to my brother. Bethany was on Raul’s opposite side, and flanking her was a tall, urbane pretty boy, whom I knew had to be Gabriel’s brother Nuriel based on their resemblance. Except that Nuriel’s eyes were different. They were mismatched—one eye was green and one blue. Neither Gabriel nor his brother were even looking at me anymore, though. They were staring directly to my right, at Jussara. And they both appeared captivated, genuinely elated at the sight of their long-lost niece.

  A quick glance at Jussara next to me revealed that she was equally intrigued as she stared back at her uncles.

  Lessa teleported directly in front of both Jussara’s and my line of sight, interrupting the nascent, silent Salvatella family bonding moment. Four Reinoso guards swiftly surrounded her, completely blocking the highest-ranking pack members of both covens from our view.

  “You two shouldn’t be here,” Lessa told us in a whispered voice loud enough to echo the distance of the banquet hall, before scolding in a slightly lower tone, “Jussara, you agreed.”

  “We’re looking for Kai,” Jussara said, straightening her shoulders and stepping forward into Lessa’s private space, her tone and posture clearly challenging.

  Damn. Jussara was ballsy. Just like her mother. And she was nearly as tall as Lessa, I noted upon seeing them standing face-to-face. The height she’d undoubtedly inherited from her late father’s side, along with her werelock genetics.

  Lessa’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Kai was called away to handle a few medical emergencies this morning.”

  Crap. Not reassuring.

  “Have you seen my mom?”

  “Nice declaration of love,” Remy whispered directly in my ear, making me jump just as Lessa shook her head “no” in answer to Jussara’s question about Lupe. “Did you just propose to my little brother?” he teased. “But seriously, what are you two doing here? You have to leave.”

  “Looking for Lupe,” I told Remy, deciding to take my cues from Jussara for the time being and refrain from simply vomiting at the mouth about Kaleb and the morning incident with Lupe. “And Kai.”

  I wasn’t sure what was appropriate to reveal in front of the Salvatellas, and we didn’t yet know exactly what had happened between Lupe and Kaleb. After all, Lupe had killed Nahuel, the brother of Nuriel and Gabriel. Rushing in with news of her macheting another werelock was likely a bad call.

  “They’re not here,” Remy said. “And you two shouldn’t be either.”

  “No shit,” Jussara muttered with an eye-roll at him.

  “You promised Al, Jussara,” Remy said bet
ween clenched teeth.

  She whipped her head around to whisper-shout directly in his face, “Bite me, Remy. It was an emergency!”

  O-kay. Sexual tension, much? Interesting.

  Meanwhile, the tense banter and harsh swear words were growing louder behind the barricade of Lessa and the guards.

  “I demand to speak with my niece in private!” Gabriel’s haughty voice had risen in anger.

  “She’s made her choice,” Alcaeus growled back. “She’s staying with our pack.”

  “We will hear it from her lips,” another male voice insisted. I assumed it was Nuriel speaking. “There can be no further negotiations until I’ve had words with my niece.”

  “You’ll have words with me first,” the familiar voice of Lupe carried over the noise of the room, steady and sure.

  Lessa and the guards moved to better see this new development, subsequently unblocking our view when a whooshing sound was heard, followed by loud clanking, and a path through the sea of supernaturals was made as an old, heavy metal machete skidded noisily across the marble floor, coming to a stop at Nuriel’s feet.

  Oh, hell. No she just didn’t.

  “I think our meeting is long overdue,” Lupe told the Salvatella brothers. “Don’t you?”

  Oh, my God. This couldn’t be good. Jussara looked horror-stricken next to me. I swiveled my head to tell Remy that he needed to get Lupe out of here, but he was already gone—rushing after Lupe to do just that—as Gabriel replied, “Excessively overdue.”

  Gabriel’s expression was glacial as he glanced from the machete on the ground to Lupe, his cerulean eyes feasting upon the sight of a woman he’d no doubt longed to harm for several decades. Nuriel looked equally incensed, his mismatched eyes glowing. I was certain his wolf was ready to tear apart his brother’s murderer—who’d just disrespected and taunted them by callously tossing the murder weapon at their feet.

  My own wolf was on high alert as I pushed my way closer.

  “There’ll be no discussion. I told you, Jussara’s mother is off-limits,” Alcaeus decreed over his shoulder as he rushed forward, blocking Lupe’s direct path to the Salvatella brothers, just as Remy grabbed her by the elbow to halt her from behind.