by Cecy Robson
Aric frowned. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Celia.”
“That’s not what I mean.” My gaze connected to his, pleading with him to understand what I meant—what he meant to me.
Liam stepped out of the car and tugged on his arm. “Aric, we gotta go, man.”
“I’m sorry. Never mind.” I sighed, feeling like a fool for keeping him from his duties, and turned back toward the house.
My foot had taken the first step inside when Aric spoke. “Celia…just tell me what you need.”
I froze. Say it…just say it. “You,” I whispered. “I need you, Aric. You’re all I ever think about.”
Aric’s response wasn’t one I expected. He bolted up the steps, dragging me to him, smashing his lips into mine. Nothing I imagined had prepared me for this. One arm wrapped around my waist possessively while his other hand tangled into my hair. The kiss was soft, yet demanding. I melted into him, kissing him back with every part of my being as my hands gripped his shoulders. He pulled me tighter, but it wasn’t tight enough. I never wanted him to let me go. His taste was sweet, warm, and seductive.
His phone rang from the pocket of his jeans. Hesitant steps ambled onto the porch. Gem cleared his throat. “Ah, do you want me to get that, Aric?”
The phone continued to ring, but Aric didn’t respond. Someone attempted to approach us, but Aric’s deep warning growl made them back away. The vibration in his throat almost pushed me over the edge. It was so sexy I could have screamed.
The warmth we shared amplified into a deep, thriving heat as Aric’s hand found my bare back. The skin-to-skin contact increased our fervor. His initial slow, soft massage turned insistent. I began to think I’d die without his touch.
Once again, his phone rang. This time, someone else was successful in approaching. I heard fumbling.
“There’s a moon on the screen,” Emme said quietly. She must have levitated it out of his pocket.
“Aric. The Elders are summoning us,” Gemini told him.
“Come on, man. We have to get out of here,” Koda urged.
Aric stopped our kiss, gently tugging my bottom lip with his teeth as he drew away. The fire had returned to his eyes, but this time it burned bright with passion.
We gasped, struggling to control our ragged breaths. “I don’t want to leave, but I have to,” Aric whispered. “I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” I whispered back.
Aric rested his head against mine as we continued to pant. He cleared his throat. “One of you will have to drive. I’m going to need a moment.”
He took a deep breath and inhaled my scent. Then he kissed my forehead and ran down the steps. I stumbled against the wall, trying to deal with what just happened. My sisters’ eyes locked on me.
Taran went insane. “Hot damn. How the hell was that?”
The heat in my body continued to scorch my veins. My heart pounded against my chest, and my unmentionables zinged. I slumped to the floor. “All kisses should be that good.”
CHAPTER 32
Shayna bounced around my room. “I knew you had it in you; I just knew it.” She pointed an accusing finger. “And you thought he didn’t like you! Omigod, you guys, like, practically swallowed each other.”
Taran’s siren grin flashed as she fanned herself. “Damn, Ceel, if he kisses you like that when we’re around, what’s he going do to you when you’re all by your lonesome?”
I stopped midway into yanking my long-sleeved tee over my head. Slowly I slipped it through, sweeping my thick hair out from under the tight fabric. Taran had a point. What was I going to do? “I don’t know.”
My sisters’ grins faded at the sight of my worried expression. Emme, who’d kept quiet, slipped off my bed and crept to my side to hold my hand. “Just do what feels right. Yes, Aric seems to really want you…physically.” She blushed. “But I’m sure he’ll be patient if you want to take things slow.”
My face heated worse than Emme’s. “I’m not sure if I want to take things slow.” I thought back to that outrageous sizzle coursing through my body, and the taste of his tongue. How his body clung to mine. The pressure of his hard form against my soft parts. His scent, his eyes, his touch…“Misha.”
Emme’s eyes widened. “Um. Don’t you mean Aric?”
A cloud of pain and torment darkened the marvelous emotions Aric’s kiss had stirred. “No. I mean Misha.” I went to the window and looked out, expecting to find Misha on our front lawn. I shoved my feet into my UGGs and barreled down the stairs.
“Dude, wait! What’s wrong?”
I didn’t bother with the porch steps and landed on our front walk in a crouch. My tigress stirred, pawing at the ground, growling. Her eyes replaced mine, and she took in our surroundings in one sweep.
“Celia…? Honey, what’s wrong?”
My head jerked back to the house. Emme clasped her hands against her mouth. Shayna and Taran exchanged glances, sensing my tigress rising to the surface.
I couldn’t mask my increasing angst. “Get the car keys. Something’s wrong.”
Shayna rushed inside, but Taran yanked the keys out of her hands when she emerged. We piled into the car. “Where’re we going?” Taran asked.
“South.”
Taran scoffed. “South where?” She pulled out of our development onto the main road. I pointed. “I don’t know. Just south, that way.”
“Dude…we’re not going back to Zhahara’s…are we?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I think Misha—” A dull ache throbbed in my chest, similar to when you heard someone you knew died. “Oh, my God. Misha’s in trouble.”
Our Tribeca bounced along the dense gravel. The wind intensified, sweeping pine needles and leaves into our path. Taran swore. “This isn’t a road; it’s a goddamn work in progress.”
Taran wasn’t kidding. White rocks kicked up, dinging our windows and side worse than those friggin’ bits of rock that flew out of construction trucks. Someone had begun to lay a foundation, but never completed the task. I dialed Aric, worried he hadn’t returned my texts. “Aric. It’s Celia. I hope you’re okay. You know how you told me to call you before I march into danger?” The increasing worry threatened to suffocate me, making it hard to speak. “Well, I’m marching into danger, so I’m calling. Please call back.”
I disconnected and ran my hand through my hair. Taran swore again when a rock chipped our front windshield. “Celia, are you sure about this?”
“I’m not sure about anything, but we’re making too much noise. I think it’s best to pull over and walk.”
“Shit! Walk where? We’re in the middle of the woods.”
Shayna played with her phone. “Koda’s not answering either.” She leaned in from the back. “They must be in deep if they’re not returning our calls. I’ve tried him four times, Liam twice, Gemini three times—”
Taran glared into the rearview mirror at her. “How do you have Gemini’s number?”
Shayna shuffled in her seat. “Ah…”
Taran clenched her jaw tighter. “Shayna, how do you have his number? Even I don’t have his damn number.”
“He, uh, gave it to me a few nights ago in case I, ah, ever needed anything.”
Behind me, Emme held the phone away from her, trying to keep Bren’s growls from rupturing her eardrums. Because that’s what was missing from my life: another pissed-off werewolf. “Why are you going after that asshole? You should have called me, goddamn it. How the hell am I supposed to track you now?”
Emme spoke reasonably. “I’m sorry we didn’t call, Bren. But Celia felt an urgency to help—”
“An asshole! Just say it, Emme. Celia felt the urge to help some master vampire asshole! Son of a bitch, you couldn’t have waited fifteen freaking minutes for me to get there?”
“We’re off Highway Eighty-nine in South Tahoe. Take a right at the white fir sapling and the first left onto a gravel road.”
“Take a right at the
white fir sapling! Are you crazy? There’s a million fu—”
Emme disconnected her call. “Bren says he’s disappointed we didn’t call him sooner. He’ll try to track us now and will hopefully join us momentarily.”
Emme missed her calling as a White House spokesperson.
“He hates me.” Taran gripped the steering wheel tight.
I cut my eyes from the road. “Who?”
“Gemini.”
I groaned. “Taran, he doesn’t. I think he’s just a little shy.”
“Do you think it’s all the swearing? Son of a bitch, is that it? I swear too goddamn much?”
“Well, dude, you could try toning it down a little.”
Shayna jumped in her seat at the sight of Taran’s death glare. “Listen, Miss I Have Every Damn Wolf Eating from My Hand, I don’t need—”
“Taran, stop the car!” I rushed out as the trees cleared and a house came into view…an empty, half-built house. Only the foundation and skeleton frame had been completed in the McMansion. There was no roof, and the second floor hadn’t been laid. I ran around the house, sniffing the air for any hint of vampiric aroma. Nothing. Nada. No trace of magic at all…except for Tahoe. The house sat on top of the hill. I trekked to the back, where I had a view of another monstrous estate situated near the edge of the lake, a few acres from where I stood. The road we’d taken must have angled back around. This estate resembled a giant Tudor…or I should say about seven Tudors pushed together. A two-acre-wide maze of hedges ran from the side of the house to the bottom of the small cliff where I stood.
Taran wiped her muddy shoes on a flat rock. “So much for Misha’s reverse speed dial. Can we go now?”
Shayna bounced to my side. “Koda just texted back. They’ve been searching the last judge’s property in wolf form, so they haven’t had their cell phones on them. He’s worried and says to stay put. He’ll locate us through my phone.” Her ponytail swung happily as she shifted her weight from side to side. “He’s so sweet. But I can just text him and tell him we don’t need them.”
My tigress eyes locked onto the back of the estate. A wood door banged open and out ran a vampire…dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform.
“Shayna…?”
“What, dude?”
My voice fell into a distressed whisper. “We need them…now.”
I barely heard the taps as Shayna’s fingers swept over her keyboard. Emme muffled a scream. Ana Clara’s long hair sailed behind her from the speed at which she ran. She tried to go through the hedge instead of around. Yellow-and-black magic sparked from the branches as she bounced off like she’d rammed a stone wall. Blood poured from her nose and from a thick gash on her head. She stumbled to her feet just as four severely infected vampires burst the hinges of the back door.
“Emme, grab her with your force!” I jumped up and down, waving my arms. “Here! Run here!”
Emme’s magic stirred. “I can’t. She’s too far. My power can’t reach her!”
We watched in horror as Ana Clara staggered into the wretched maze, the bloodlusters right behind her. “Left, goddamn it, go left!” Taran screamed. “Right. Now right!”
Ana Clara struggled even with Taran’s instructions. The first bloodluster approached, tracking her by blood. She drew closer, closer, Ana Clara screaming as she closed in.
Swoosh. Swoosh.
Shayna’s arrows found the bloodluster’s head and chest. She exploded close enough to smear Ana Clara’s back with putrid green ash. Another bloodluster neared. Shayna followed with two more arrows. One pierced an eye, the other a shoulder, but it didn’t hinder him. He pushed on, his thirst propelling his legs faster.
He tackled Ana Clara and raised a claw in the air. Shayna nailed him with an arrow through his palm and a thicker one through his temple. The infection hadn’t advanced too far. His blood spilled red, distracting the other vampires. Ana Clara crawled away, sobbing as the two vamps feasted on the other. She rushed to her feet and sprinted.
And so did I.
Emme screamed. “Celia!”
I couldn’t watch any more. I leaped off the small cliff, landing in a shift, and surfaced as far as I could into the maze. “Ana Clara! Run to my voice!” I continued shifting. The magic prevented us from crashing through the wall of hedges, but it didn’t penetrate beneath the earth. Every time I emerged, I called to her. And every time her sobs grew louder. I surfaced once more, out of breath from shifting. My heart thundered against my rib cage as I searched along the endless labyrinth of green until I finally caught sight of her.
Ana Clara tore around a bend, crying, grunting, her arms pumping wildly as her bare feet dug into the muddy ground.
“Hurry, Ana Clara. Hurry!”
The hedges twitched and crackled. Black-and-yellow mist rose into the sky. I no longer felt the sting of dark magic prick against my skin. Oh, no. The barrier had fallen.
One of the bloodlusters crashed through the thick branches between me and Ana Clara. I shifted him through the ground and kicked his head from his shoulders. Another bloodluster broke through, then another, and another.
Shit.
All the air was squeezed from my lungs as my feet left the ground. Ana Clara and I flew through the air on the wobbly wings of Emme’s force. Four bloodlusters chased us below. My head jerked to find Emme. She and my sisters were only a quarter of the way in through the maze. We moved fast. But it wasn’t fast enough. Six more infected vampires crashed through the thick field of green, heading toward my sisters.
“Run. There’s more. Run!”
Ana Clara screamed as a Zhahara-size bloodluster leaped up and yanked her out of Emme’s force. She crashed with him on top. He tore into her like a piñata, spilling her insides. I jerked my head away when two more piled on top of her. She screamed. She screamed the whole time. Until the silence announced her end.
My sisters ran, Emme dragging me behind her like a kite.
But they were too slow. Taran turned and launched a stream of lightning. The vamps leaped out of the way…and onto my sisters.
CHAPTER 33
“No!” My roars were cut off by a sharp tightening around my throat. Something yanked me free from Emme’s force. I crashed hard on the ground, struggling to breathe.
My body twisted and buckled. Each time I fought my way to my feet, I was immediately brought back down, until I finally succumbed from lack of breath.
Silver satin ballet slippers stepped into my line of vision, splattering mud against my face. “Relax your hold,” the dark-haired witch from the compound whispered quietly. “Your master doesn’t want Celia to die. Yet.”
The whip around my neck loosened enough so I could pass air, but not much. I protruded my claws and cut through the leather strap. I rolled back, only for a second whip to cut off my breathing again the moment I struggled to my knees.
My head spun from lack of oxygen, and tears blurred my vision. The whip loosened once more and my hands were roughly bound behind me. This time I was too breathless and weak to act.
So were my sisters. Mud soaked their clothes, and they bled from their mouths and noses. They must have been squashed by the weight of their bloodlusters. Zhahara had been huge. Four males, all bigger, all hungrier, all deadlier, danced eagerly from side to side, smacking their lips and drooling as they held my sisters like dolls. They couldn’t wait to eat.
Us.
Taran swore under her breath, cringing every time her vamp’s tongue extended near her jaw. Shayna kicked futilely. Emme whimpered and shut her eyes tight. A large contusion swelled across her crown. She’d banged her head. It would take time for her body to heal her and her mind to act. Time we didn’t have.
The witch’s head angled as she regarded me, her coal-colored eyes filling with hatred. More hatred than should have been possible for someone who didn’t know me. “Come, my children,” she said, her voice oddly childlike considering the darkness surrounding her. “Your master is waiting.”
Oh, great. Time t
o meet Daddy.
I was half dragged through the mud. The infected vamp holding me laughed each time I stumbled to my feet. Each time I rose, I grew stronger. Each time he yanked on his hold, I grew angrier. And each time he laughed, I knew he’d die.
And that I’d be the one to kill him.
Misha’s gut-wrenching screams made my head snap up. So did the currents of power drifting from the threshold of the demolished door. The vamp holding me hissed. “Why isn’t he dead yet?”
Yet?
The vamp tugged me harder through a large kitchen where entranced women bustled at tasks on countertops and busied themselves over simmering pots. Their eyes glazed over from hypnosis. Chunks of skin had knitted over their horribly mauled wrists and necks, perspiration giving their grotesque pallor a sickly glow. These women teetered on the edge of death. Yet the force driving their efforts compelled their frail bodies forward.
Vegetables steamed in pots, rolls baked in the oven, and lamb roasted in the rotisserie. The aroma of food would have sickened me, considering the state of the women who prepared it, yet the scent was barely noticeable over the escalating fragrance of vampiric power and Misha’s tormented bellows.
A tremendous surge of the energy caused the vampires dragging us down the dark wood-paneled corridors to pause. God, it was so strong it pressed like a wall against my chest. I coughed and gagged, desperately trying to draw a full breath as we crossed into another room.
We entered a tremendous antechamber decorated à la Museum of Natural History meets ghetto bizzaro. A chandelier fashioned from dinosaur bones and lit with candles hung from the center of the wood-beamed ceiling, illuminating the virtual gallery of ancient relics. Gaudy furniture made from animal skins and accented with leopard-fur pillows had been pushed out to create space within the two-story-high room. Stuffed animal heads from elephants, bears, wolves, to freaking zebras were fastened to the walls between the tapestries and paintings in thick brass frames. Armored knights encased in giant glass boxes stood on either side of the marble fireplace. It seemed like a stressed-out museum curator had thrown up in here…a demented, cruel, and masochistic curator.