by Kim Schubert
Blowing out a breath, I asked, “Is there anyone not dead on the list?”
Jerry scanned the list. “Yes, twin siblings,” he said excitedly, looking at me. “I have the address.”
“Let’s go,” Blake said, leading the way back into the darkness.
Chapter 18
Two dark-haired, dark-skinned teenage girls stood huddled on their lawn in their matching pink bathrobes as Mercer explained the situation to their parents.
“Glad I’m not him right now,” Blake muttered.
Looks of shock passed across their faces. The mother grabbed quickly for the girls, following her husband to a police SUV and to safety. The dad was a big man, stood holding open the door, watching the surroundings; but even his abilities wouldn’t keep his daughters safe.
I could, though, and I would.
Mercer’s awkward demeanor said it all. The glances from his fellow police officers told the story well; he was an outcast for playing with the alleged demon.
“Everything appears normal.” He said
I nodded. “You shouldn’t leave anyone here; if he shows up, I’ll know.”
Mercer rubbed his stubble on his wide chin. “Having a backup wouldn’t hurt.”
“If you leave a human here, they will be dead if the puppet master comes looking for the twins,” I told him, watching him look over the others here. “It’s your decision.”
Turning to Blake, I said, “I’ve about had enough fun for tonight.”
He nodded, slinging a lanky arm over my shoulders, drawing me close as we met Tate at the SUV.
I caught a catnap, sprawled across the back seat and woke up as we came to a stop. Groaning, I pulled myself into a seated position, not liking the fact we were at the Centennial Compound.
Blake opened my door, raising both hands in an attempt to calm me. I growled.
“We need to make a few phone calls and we could use the command center to organize everything,” he said, pulling me out by my arm.
Huffing, I followed him disheveled into the house. Where before, I was stopped for my weapons, this time, I just decked the vamp on guard duty and kept walking.
Tate and Blake exchanged glances; not my fault their security didn’t have a better communication network.
Down in the basement, I asked, “How did the puppet master know about the kids?”
“We have tech breaking apart the computer now to see who the list was sent to,” Mal said, typing away.
Resting in the plush couch, I shook my head. “It must have been a face-to-face meeting; I doubt, with all the secrecy, he would have just emailed the list over.”
“Whatever, if it’s in there, my guys will find it,” Mal answered with certainty.
“Do you think this has anything to do with the attack on Blake’s place?” I asked, resting my exhausted head.”
“No,” Mal said shortly.
She didn’t meet my eyes, but I could tell she knew something she wasn’t sharing; perfectly fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted.
“Lovely, if that is all squared away, I’m going to check with Logan on Steven’s alibi,” I said merrily turning to Blake, engrossed in a computer. “I’ll grab a ride with Jerry,” I said as he looked up for a brief moment smiling.
Calling Jerry, I found him wrapping up at the professor’s house. “Just call when you’re close,” I said, going outside to wait. The protestors were fewer and those who still were there looked terrified as I walked by. Good thing my plan had worked; otherwise, I’d be killing them.
Twenty minutes later, Jerry pulled up, watching me warily as I climbed into the SUV, smiling. “What are you so happy about?”
“Nothing; I just enjoy a good pot stirring,” I said with a smile. “But don’t worry. I called Logan; he’s expecting us.”
Jerry put the car into drive. “But does he know what to expect.”
“I hope not; that would ruin all my fun,” I answered with an evil grin.
Chapter 19
Logan growled at me from across his lush desk before answering, “Absolutely not.” His caramel eyes glowed as his lion beat against his self-control.
I smiled, leaning forward. “I was really hoping you would say that.”
The three of us lumbered down into the basement training room; no need to destroy Logan’s office, yet.
“This is asinine,” Jerry informed me, taking a seat on the metal bleachers of the shifter training room located under Logan’s current residence.
I smiled wider. “It’s the only way to get the information I need.”
Jerry looked at me, not believing a word as I shrugged out of my impressive weapons arsenal. I could have pulled the whole “council card” on him, but I needed a good fight, and Logan, without his shirt on, was going to give it to me. I couldn’t help but wonder what he would taste like under my lips.
Quickly, I shook my head. Were those thoughts allowed when one was having a “relationship?” I didn’t have a clue, I had never in my life worried about such silly concepts as “exclusive.” But I was worried now, worried I may have made a mistake, worried I would unquestionably ruin things with Blake, and worried I’d fail the whole damn council.
Besides, I didn’t need that man scenting my attraction.
I put my game face on as Logan began circling me. He was all predatory grace in this moment; ruggedly built, solid muscle, he moved with the agility of the lion pressing against his skin.
His carefully groomed features were gone, replaced by the hunter he truly was, and I basked in it as I lunged for him. He danced away, smiling as we continued to circle.
I expected some taunt from him, some low blows, but nothing. We circled in silence each of our true natures fully exposed. He lunged at me and I didn’t dance away fast enough as he caught me around the middle, landing heavily on my torso.
The air flew out of my lungs as I punched him hard in the shoulder. We had agreed to no face blows. Pulling back to slam him again, he blocked easily. He then pulled back and hesitated, giving me the opening to buck him off by thrusting my hips up and unseating him.
I wasted no time in lunging at him, using my momentum to take him down. We rolled as I tried to come up on top, only to have him taking a cheap shot at a kidney. I threw an elbow, successful connecting with soft tissue.
I’m fairly certain we would have gone on for hours more, but Lorraine walked down the stairs, screeching. “What the hell is going on down here?” she demanded, hands pressed against her thin hips. “It sounds like a herd of rhinos down here, and I have company,” she hissed, stomping her foot impatiently.
I giggled, and Logan, still on top of me, tried very diligently not to share in my mirth.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Sorry, dear; we are done,” quickly moving away from my body.
She nodded before taking her upturned nose away.
Turning to me, I could see the regret in our match being cut short as Logan nodded and said, “I’ll find out where he was.”
I nodded, still giggling as I gathered my weapons, Jerry and I beat a hasty exit.
…
I climbed the stairs to Blake’s bedroom, turning the key he had left for me over in my hands, still feeling very strange about having a boyfriend. I had never used that term for any male in my life, ever. So what had changed? When had a one-night stand become not enough? Maybe it still was, maybe I was just being weak, bending my will to him. That idea didn’t sit well with me as I opened his bedroom door.
He lay there, snoring softly, the dark sheet draped dangerously low as heat instantly flooded between my legs. Chewing my lip, I was weighing if I was too tired to jump him, when he cracked an eye, smiling. “You smell divine.”
My grin widened as I went to him in bed, decision made.
Chapter 20
I awoke to Jerry in my face, shaking me. Batting him back, I glared up at him. I’m not a morning person.
“We have problems,” he said, shaking me again. I shoved him away from me
and growled.
As Jerry took a step back, Blake laughed, coming out of the shower. “I told you she isn’t a morning person,” Blake said, coming around the bed to kiss my temple. Snuggling in his embrace, I inhaled the scent of soap.
“You failed to mention violent,” Jerry said as I glared at him again, forcing him to fidget in his black pressed suit.
“Give me a minute,” Blake said to Jerry, stroking my face.
“Fine, but we need her, shit is going down,” he said, slamming the door behind him.
With a sigh, I lay my head back down on the fluffy pillows, stretching my limbs and groaning.
“You are needed, Olie,” he said softly into my ear.
“Why?” I asked, my voice muffled by the pillow.
He stroked my arm lightly. “You have been called to Logan’s grandfather’s plot.”
I groaned, rolling to my back. “Jerry can handle it.”
“He didn’t get an invitation and neither did I,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss on my lips. Heat instantly flooded my body as I leaned up to dive deeper into those sweet lips.
Pulling back, he smiled, saying, “I’m afraid I must deny you this morning.”
I pouted as he picked me up out of the bed.
…
It was too fucking early for this shit or maybe too fucking late. My days, nights, and mornings were a complete disaster with the schedule I had been keeping, and, after the amazing sex with Blake, a day off seemed to be in order, but no, not according to the head of the shifter nation, who we were still waiting on.
Tate toured the property as I sat on a headstone. “Really Olivia?” he whispered.
I didn’t bother with an answer as Mercer came from the trees. “This place is freezing.”
“It’s the magic,” I explained, idly feeling it prick along my skin under my leather jacket and jean clad legs braced wide.
Darren exited his flashy sports car, looking haggard as he made his way to join us. “Where is he?” He asked, coming to stand before me.
“Damn if I know,” I answered with a shrug, just as exhausted. The directions from Logan had been exact, wait in the center of the shifter cemetery at noon with only Tate, Mercer, Darren, and me. It truly made the man look paranoid. I would have liked having Blake and Jerry here, although perhaps it made me paranoid to want them here.
The actual piece of property, located ninety minutes outside St Ann was breathtaking. Rolling hills dotted with plots carefully hidden from the road with sweeping trees. We were all seated under a weeping willow; well, I was seated. The other three just looked uncomfortable.
“What’s the matter, boys, don’t spend much time around the truly dead?” I asked, my foul mood pressing against my barriers.
None of them dignified that with an answer. Shrugging, I looked out towards the rest of the cemetery and the crypt high on the hill. This didn’t feel like the same place as the vision I had, but looking up there now, I had the distinct impression that was where I had been.
I had just stood up about to head up there when I felt the ground beneath my feet rumble. “What the hell?” I asked looking down as the ground cracked. An ugly wail sent chills to my gut, an dreadful suspicion seeping into my thoughts.
“What’s going on?” Darren asked me, his dark eyes starting to shift.
“We walked into a trap,” I answered, holding perfectly still, as though that would stop what was crawling its undead way out of the ground.
“Trap?” Darren asked looking around as the ground beneath his feet began to shift “Logan wouldn’t have—” He stopped mid-sentence looking up at me with a mix of annoyance and disgust as a bony hand clenched around his foot. “This is disgusting.”
I nodded as an entire arm pushed out the ground, the fingers coming even with my hip. This was a hefty one, chunks of ligaments attached to rotting muscle. I rolled away from the tombstone as the other arm exploded from the dirt and watched Mercer and Tate tackle their own undead problems from a crouch.
Big and nasty came up belting unintelligible words from a jaw hanging partially down, eyes glowing deep red. He rounded on me, pulling his long legs from the broken coffin with a final snap.
“Hey there, pretty boy,” I said, smiling, “come and get me.”
He didn’t need a second invitation, launching at me with claws extended swiping wildly. Leaping back, the claws sliced through my dark turquoise t-shirt.
“You’re lucky that wasn’t my leather jacket,” I scolded. The force of the swing made it unstable as it lumbered back to find me in its sights.
“How do we kill these things?” Darren yelled, landing a solid right hook into a skeleton’s jaw.
“I don’t suppose you have a blow torch hidden in your brassiere?” Tate asked me, ducking under a wild punch.
“I don’t even know what that is,” I answered, dipping back out of range of the next swipe.
“Your bra,” Mercer answered, shooting at the skeleton head. Chunks of brain and skull plastering Tate.
“Really!?” Tate said annoyed, brushing chucks off his expensive suit.
Mercer shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?” he said, indicating the now truly lifeless body of the shifter.
“It did,” I said shocked, standing out of my crouch. Vital mistake. Big and ugly’s next swing found home, launching me across the cemetery and smashing my back and wrist against an angel statue; well, it was a statue. Rolling to the softer ground, white plaster wings sprinkled my body. I groaned.
“Ouch,” I muttered, pushing onto my knees, leaning heavily on my elbows. The ground beneath my body shook as the giant took awkward steps toward me. Fuck.
Scrambling to my feet, I used the now broken angel for support.
“Aim for the head!” Tate yelled at me, taking down another shifter. “These ones are different than the other.”
Well, no shit they were; I was still conscious. Although, to give him credit, I hadn’t thought of that.
Pulling a long blade from the holder at my back, I dodged left using the shifters own unstable thighbone as a step to give me the height I needed to slice his undead head off. Landing on my feet, I was still, waiting, holding my breath, to see if it really did work.
The snarled, skeleton head rolled down the hill to the broken angel statue the red eyes reduced to empty eye sockets. Pushing out a relieved breath, I turned to face a massive pair of jaws. This was going to be one of those days.
Honestly, I can’t say I was too upset; I like killing things. Hell, it’s probably one of the few things in life I really love. Even though they were already undead, I’d still like to think it counted toward my average.
The four of us sliced, diced, shot, and Darren half shifted, his clothing straining at the seams under his massive thighs and wider torso, to eliminate each and every threat. Towards the end of the fight, when only a few undead were still able to fight, I turned toward the crypt. My nagging subconscious making me uneasy, I thought it was my hopeful imagination that saw the white blond head of Steven in the distance. My mind blacked out and I was looking at the vile Steven close up before the connection was cut off.
I stumbled from the swift and brief moment of connection, before growling and taking off at a sprint. I wasn’t going to make it, a full football field separated me from the murderer, who had drawn us out and attempted to eliminate us, not to mention the dozen dead at his hands.
But I wasn’t alive today because I ever gave up; I pumped my legs, forcing the muscles to respond after the brutal assault moments earlier as I continued uphill. Darren caught wind of my attempt, running on all fours, loping faster than I could toward the crypt.
I was going to be more than a little ticked at him if he took my kill from me. Anger helped push me to go faster, but it was no comparison to the swiftness of the half lion in front of me. Snarling reached my ears from the crypt, violent blows sending shock waves through the ground as I tore around the side of it to find Darren holding a quickly healing gash along his
side.
He looked at me, all the anger and hatred hardly contained under the surface of those dark chocolate brown depths.
With a growl, he hefted himself off the ground, standing feet taller than me. “Your suspicions are correct, Olivia.” Brushing off the dirt from his scuffle, he looked down at the wound closing upon itself, trailing thin rivets of crimson down his side.
“Steven,” I said, following Darren’s gaze to the forest where they had retreated. I debated a moment, my body shifting forward as I thought about going after them.
Darren hefted an oversized paw on my shoulder, stopping me. Looking up at his face, he shook his head, lines of worry present on his forehead. “We are in no shape to go after them; as powerful as they are, we will need a mage of our own.”
I growled, knowing he was correct and not enjoying it. “Besides,” he said, turning back to the mess of body parts “we have to take care of this mess and with Steven’s powers, we could spend days out there and not find them.”
I groaned, which ended in a whine, hating the fact that he was right on both accounts.
Chapter 21
“Unbelievable,” Logan said, surveying the damage we had inflicted upon the shifter graveyard. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked, rounding on me, anger rolling off him in powerful waves. “And what could possibly possess you four to think that I would call a clandestine meeting out at a graveyard? How did that little nugget of information not have any of your realizing it was a trap?”
“You are such an ungrateful asshole!,” I answered, limping over to him, “You are far too absorbed in your own asshole to really understand what is happing here! One, we know Steven is the puppet master, two we kept the undead from wreaking havoc outside this graveyard, and three you are a terrible leader!” I screamed at him.
Logan growled, his caramel eyes glowing as his fangs descended in his mouth. “You will show me respect.” His beast pushed to the surface.