Nightshift Bundle with Wolf Tales & Embrace The Night

by Kate Douglas

  The house grew brighter by the minute as morning light managed to filter around the shades that Merek and Chloe had drawn to keep out prying eyes. At the moment it was also keeping out the sun that would burn Luca and the other vampires in the house. Much as she’d like to torch the hell out of the terrorists, she couldn’t do that to Luca.

  The bad guys didn’t have those kinds of scruples.

  The vampire terrorist hissed and ducked away from the sunbeams, but he opened the front door while the enormous wolf launched a struggling Luca outside.

  Slashes of fire carved burns on his face. Every exposed inch of skin boiled and sizzled, and an animalistic shriek of sheer agony assaulted Chloe’s ears as he writhed in the sunlight.

  Tess bolted forward, a horrified cry on her lips. Chloe managed to hit the vampire with her flame potion before he touched her friend, and he hit the floor, rolling to try to put out the fire. As if Chloe would have made it that easy for him. Tess emptied the rest of her bullets into the werewolf, two shots to the heart and three to the head. He fell, his body contorting as his bones snapped and retracted back to human form. Chloe stayed where she was, ready to use her potions on anything that moved.

  Throwing herself on top of Luca, Tess did her best to shield him from the light, and somehow managed to pull, push, and heave him back into the house. Chloe slammed the door closed behind them. The stench of scorched, blackened flesh made her stomach turn.

  Tess’s eyes were wide, blank with utter shock as she watched her lover’s fangs protrude from his gums. “Luca? Luca!”

  He choked, his eyes little more than slits in his swollen, distorted face. “Mia diletta.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m here. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need.”

  “Leave me.” He closed his eyes and turned his face away, but not before Chloe saw his hungry gaze lock on her friend’s throat.

  “What?” A short sob racked the Normal woman, disbelief coloring her words. “No, Luca. You’re hurt. You need help.”

  Chloe put her hand on her friend’s shoulder, her heart breaking as she saw the ugly truth. One of these two was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “He needs to feed, Tess. He’d need a lot of blood to heal from this, and if you stay close, he’ll attack you and drain you. He won’t mean to, but he won’t be able to help it. Come away, honey. You need to leave him.”

  A brilliant explosion that sounded like fireworks brought her head around, and she saw Merek and Alex locked in a deadly showdown with four other Magickals. Gods, there were just so many of them. They took out two and three more seemed to be ready to take their place. An exhausted sob caught in her throat when Merek’s bloodshot gray eyes met hers.

  Chloe looked as drained as he felt. Every muscle and tendon in Merek’s body ached. His very bones ached. He’d burned through more magic in the last hour than he’d known he possessed. He was spent. Shoving that thought away, he made himself keep moving and blocked a punch by a beefy elf. He rolled his shoulder, brought his knuckles up in a quick jab to the big man’s kidneys, adding as much magic as he could to the blow. It wasn’t much, but it made the other man grunt and stagger backward into a werewolf terrorist, giving Merek precious seconds to breathe.

  He saw when things went south the moment before they did. Alex was holding his own against a warlock who was as drained as the rest of them. It was the female vampire who fucked things. Time stretched into slow motion as he watched her slam a fresh magazine into a Beretta and swing it around to point at Alex. Merek didn’t hesitate, didn’t think, just launched himself forward and prayed he made it in time. One step, two, and he was airborne, catching the wolf around waist and sending the boy crashing to the carpet.

  Merek’s body jerked as searing heat and power slammed into his back, his side, his chest, spinning him around like a puppet with broken strings. Another strike to his chest, and one to his injured leg that drove him into the floor.

  Some part of his mind knew they were bullets, that he’d been shot. More than once. But a haze swam through his consciousness, and he couldn’t seem to piece everything together. They were still in danger. He should do something, but what that was drifted just beyond his grasp.

  There was screaming, and golden flames danced in front of him, driving away the enemies. That was good. Alex stood over him, fangs bared, a roar of anguish and rage rending the air. Merek blinked in confusion as the world revolved around him. Someone was rolling him onto his back.

  “No! Please, no.” Chloe swirled before his eyes, her precious face tear-streaked. Her hands were frantic as they ripped open his shirt, but he knew she didn’t have enough magic left to stop all the bleeding. He could feel blood pumping out of him with every beat of his heart. “Don’t leave me, Merek. I need you. I love you! Please don’t leave me alone. Please!”

  He wanted to reach for her, wanted to touch her so badly, but he couldn’t make his arms move. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t warn her to run before they came for her, could only stare up into her hazel eyes. Her broken pleading trailed off into ragged weeping as she used all of her energy to try to pull bullets from his body. A body he felt disconnected from. There was no pain, no panic . . . nothing.

  It was funny. All this time, he’d worried about failing her, about failing Alex, about not being able to protect them because he couldn’t see their future. About someone else he cared for dying on him. Now, he was going to fucking die on them, and who would protect them then?

  Blackness edged into his vision, and he coughed, his mouth flooding with his own blood.

  It tasted bitter.

  14

  Chloe woke to darkness.

  It took everything she had not to scream as blind terror exploded through her. Her blood froze in her veins; her heart stopped and then jackhammered against her breastbone. The blackness closed in around her, suffocating her. She lay on her side, and her hands were bound behind her, bronze blistering her flesh. Her fingers trembled, and she fisted them tight, trying to fight down the need to gag.

  She didn’t know where she was, just that she was bronze-bound and alone in the vast, gloomy nothing.

  It was the sum of all her fears. Her stomach heaved at the thought, and she swallowed bitter bile that coated her tongue. Sweat slid down her face to burn her eyes. Tremors ran through her muscles, and she panted, her face pressed to the hard, cold floor.

  Something landed on her back, and she bucked, biting back a terrified shriek. Whatever was on her rolled away, but she knew it wasn’t gone. She could hear it breathing. She went rigid, waiting for the next nightmare to materialize. Sandpaper rasped against her left cheek, and she flinched away from the harsh sensation.

  “Prrp.” Ophelia laid a paw against her cheek, then rubbed herself down Chloe’s torso. How her familiar had gotten here, Chloe would never be able to guess. The cat crawled over her and settled against her back, vibrating with a purr. A few seconds later, the bronze shackles clanked to the metal floor.

  Chloe choked, freed, but reminded far too much of being stranded with her familiar in the forest as a child. Only this was worse, because now she knew the danger she was in, knew there were people out there counting on her to help them and not just herself. She couldn’t give in to her fears; as much as she wanted to curl up and sob as she once had, she didn’t have time for any weakness.

  Alex and Tess needed her.

  She got a vice grip on her control, pulling her injured wrists into her chest. Forcing her mind to focus on healing spells helped drag her back from the abyss. She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. Wherever she was, there were vampires and werewolves out there, and they could hear if she made too much noise.

  Swallowing hard, she forced back the darts of panic that shot through her. Memories exploded through her mind. Merek shot, bleeding out faster than she could extract the bullets and seal the wounds. A screaming and struggling Tess hauled away from Luca by a werewolf. Alex roaring, so much grief on his fa
ce it hurt to recall it. He’d left her with Merek, shooting forward to attack those who’d hurt a man they both loved. The teen’s body had frozen after no more than two steps, his muscles flexing in uncoordinated jolts as if he were struggling against himself. His eyelids fluttered, and he shook his head hard, prying them open. A vampire stood across the room, her gaze locked on Alex’s face—hypnotizing him into unconsciousness.

  Chloe had stopped healing Merek long enough to heave one of her fire canisters at the bloodsucker, but the other woman had stepped smoothly out of its path. She didn’t even lose eye contact with Alex. Merek choked, blood gushing from his mouth and nose. Energy she didn’t know she had poured into him for the spells, and she’d felt her own grip on reality, on life, begin to fade. Jerking, she’d tried to refocus on Alex, searched for him . . . and was caught by the vampire’s gaze herself.

  That was the last thing she remembered, before now.

  Patting her hands along the hollow metal floor, she tried to feel for anything that would orient her. A van? The space felt small enough for that. She fended off a wave of dizziness as the darkness assaulted her once more. A tiny part of her couldn’t believe this had happened again. Trapped in the black, scorched by bronze, those she loved most lost to her, perhaps forever. She snorted, tears stinging her eyes, hysteria rising.

  No. She was no longer a scared child. She refused to let her fears rule her, refused to let them freeze her up. She didn’t know where she was, but she knew it was nowhere she wanted to be. She didn’t know where Alex and Tess were, but she doubted it was any safer. Luca and Merek were—

  Agony poured through her like acid, and she pushed that away as well. Not now. If she survived this, there would be plenty of time for grief. Years. Decades. Centuries.

  She shuddered, but made herself complete her train of thought. As far as she knew, both men were dead. No one was coming to save them. No one was going to protect them. No one was going to get them out of this. That was her job now.

  Cracking open her senses, she tried to stretch out her magic and see if there was anyone else within reach. Nothing stirred outside the van, but there was a flurry of activity in the distance. Her ears buzzed with the life forces of many different kinds of Magickals. Mostly wolves, which only made her belly cramp tighter. She’d never felt so many wolves in one place at one time. This was not good.

  Her hand came into contact with the side of the van, and she got to her knees to try to feel around for the door. Quietly. Was the van parked on the street? In a garage? Could she scream for help? If she did, would anyone but the wolves hear her? She didn’t know so she couldn’t risk it.

  The hinges for the rear door bumped under her questing fingers, and a spurt of triumph went through her. She slid over on her knees to find the middle. If she could use her magic to unlock and ease the door open . . .

  But the doors creaked open, and a shaft of light pierced the gloom. A pale streak told her Ophelia had bolted, disappearing to the gods knew where. Chloe turned her face into the brightness, relief so huge it made her shake coursing through her body. She sent a fireball through the narrow opening, and heard an angry shout on the other side. One door whipped open, and a gun pointed at her face. Shit.

  “Are you going to behave, or am I going to have to put you back into the cuffs?”

  Blinking away the light, she focused on the man with a familiar, quiet voice. She couldn’t keep her mouth from falling open, then it snapped shut on a snarl as welcome rage rolled over her. Her fists clenched to keep from torching the treacherous asshole. “Peyton.”

  “You remember me.” He grasped her upper arm and pulled her from the van. Every muscle screamed a protest at the quick movement.

  “Hard to forget a man who helped torture you.” She jerked away from him, but he held on with disgustingly little effort. His jacket lay in a smoking heap on the cement floor, and she smirked.

  “Let’s get moving. Your friends are waiting for you.” He propelled her across a large loading dock. “We’d have moved you at the same time, but it took quite a few men to handle young Nemov. Someone trained the boy well.”

  “Detective Kingston.” As much as she’d like to fry his nerves with a spell, she managed to stop herself from following through with the thought. He was taking her to Alex and Tess, and acting rashly wouldn’t help any of them. She would need all the magic she could marshal to get them out of this. She refused to consider any other option. They would get out of this. She satisfied her ire by spitting out, “They killed him and Agent Cavalli, you know. I hope you’re happy, traitor.”

  Some emotion flickered in his eyes, but was soon gone, and his face became a smooth mask. “No, I didn’t know. This way, please, Dr. Standish.”

  Since she didn’t have a real choice, she let him lead her through a secured door and down a long, brightly lit hallway. It looked like they were in an office building, which was so ordinary it was disconcerting. They passed armed men and women who nodded to Peyton and looked her over like so much prey. She clenched her jaw, lifted her chin, and refused to cower.

  They sped up endless floors in an elevator, but there was no dial or buttons to say exactly how many. Peyton pushed her out to turn into a few interior hallways, and she lost track of where they’d gone as they wound deeper into the building. The wolf swished a keycard in front of several security panels to get them through a series of doors. She could smell the familiar scent of a laboratory, and her insides twisted tighter. If they tortured her again, she had no defenses left against telling them everything about the formula.

  Stepping into a room that was, indeed, equipped as a lab, she wasn’t surprised to see Ivan Nemov standing there with a handful of other Magickals. He looked like hell warmed over, and Chloe couldn’t summon a single scrap of sympathy. He’d sold out her research to terrorists, gotten Damien and his pregnant fiancée murdered, and abandoned his only child. She offered him a baleful stare, and he winced and glanced away.

  Toward Alex.

  She couldn’t prevent the cry that burst out, and Peyton hauled her closer when she tried to break for Alex. He was in a cage. And he wasn’t the only one. An unconscious Tess lolled against the bars in the cage next to him. So many cages. Dozens of wolves were locked into silver dog kennels, some in human form, some in animal form, but there wasn’t enough room to stand up, let alone half-shift. Shredded newspaper on the floors of the cages was the only thing between them and the silver. She winced when a wolf rolled over and yelped in pain as it brushed the bars.

  Her mouth worked for a moment before she could form a coherent sentence through the horror. “What the hell is this?”

  “Dr. Nemov’s grand experiment.” A slender man pushed away from the large lab table in the middle of the room. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Standish. I’ve heard so many good things about your work.”

  “Leonard Smith.” She didn’t need his nod of confirmation to know. What startled her was the complete lack of evil in his eyes. A man who’d orchestrated all this should have a face twisted and deformed with malice, but he just looked like a middle manager appropriate to the office building they stood in. She swallowed, pushed away the inane thoughts, and refocused on what was important. “How are so many werewolves missing and no one reported anything?”

  She knew before the words were past her lips. These weren’t registered wolves. These were Normals they’d turned into werewolves. Smith’s words rang in her mind again: Dr. Nemov’s grand experiment. Her gaze swung to Ivan. “How could you?”

  “For Jaya. For Alex,” he rasped, his Russian accent thickening. Eyes as green as Alex’s met hers. They burned with an intensity that bordered on fanatical. “Our work wasn’t going fast enough. There are too many regulations on our experiments. We were so close to a breakthrough, and it would have still meant years of verification testing. Years. We’ve already lost so many years. Every month means more of us don’t make the Change; more of us die. I already lost my wife. I won’t lose my son.
”

  The utter blankness on Alex’s face when she looked at him told her Ivan had already lost his son, whether he was alive or not. Her soul ached for the boy, but she made herself address Smith. “I won’t help you with this. It’s illegal and immoral. Dr. Nemov seems to have forgotten his oaths to medical ethics.”

  “I agree with you,” Smith responded with a benign smile. “Ivan’s work is a regrettable means to an end for me, one I don’t relish, but necessity wins out.”

  “What end could possibly be worth this?” She waved a hand at the people caged like mindless animals. At her godson and her best friend.

  “Freedom,” he said simply. “The pack leaders are ineffective. How long did they fail to get this kind of research funded? Instead of granting werewolves a modicum of independence, they sold us out to the vampires, who will be more than happy to control treatment, to make slavering dogs of our entire race.” He arched an eyebrow and spread his hands. “Deny they despise us, Dr. Standish.”

  She licked her lips, swallowed, scrambled for some logic when her mind spewed repulsion. “Vampires despise everyone, but they had the means to pay for the experiments.”

  An impatient gesture from Smith stopped anything else she might say. “Werewolves have stood apart too long, hiding behind the walls of pack lands and the hive-minded obedience of pack law. It’s time to take our own destiny in hand.”

  For the most part, she agreed with him. Right up until he got to the part about killing people and letting Ivan Change innocent Normals into wolfish lab rats. The terrorist’s face and voice were calm, his manner implacable. There would be no reasoning with this man. He was a hero in his own mind, a savior.

  Smith gave her a smile that was almost regretful. “I’m afraid Dr. Nemov has run into a wall with his work. He needs you to finish the formula.” He paused, waited for her to speak, and arched an eyebrow when she didn’t. “I understand your reticence, truly I do. However, I must have an effective treatment, so you’ll understand if I feel the need to build some safeguards into your timeline.”