Doubts clawed at the beauty of the moment. Would Kyle be able to defeat Liam when he confronted him? What would she do if Liam bested him again?
She’d tear every part of his crooked soul from his body.
Warm lips kissing along her shoulder drove away the dark murmurs. Kyle lifted his head and announced, “They’ll be coming soon.”
“I know.” Reluctantly, she stretched and stood to put on her clothes. The quiet of the desert offered an uninhibited view of the sky. How long had it been since they’d made love under the stars? She hoped it wasn’t the last time.
Within a few minutes, she was dressed and ready for the rough road ahead, and together with Kyle, they headed for their next position—hidden away inside an old rusted truck on the property. With a shotgun resting in Kyle’s palm and an arsenal close at hand, they wouldn’t have long to wait before a rain of explosions ended the silence. But they didn’t fire the first shot. A crack of gunfire in the distance announced the time had come.
“They’re here,” he said.
He grabbed her hand and offered a reassuring squeeze.
“Take this.” He handed her the .45. The bone-chilling weapon weighed down her hand. She ran her fingers over the trigger as the internal voice purred, This is the best time to strike. Kill him with his own gun.
Emma wanted to drop the weapon and bolt. She didn’t trust herself. The voice was stronger now. Much clearer. Liam was coming.
Her stomach pains were fewer, but sharper now, even after eating a bit of food at the diner. Even worse, she felt a fever coming on. Another sign of her impending doom.
“Not now,” she mumbled. “Not like this.”
“Em, what’s wrong?” He reached for her again, but she twisted away.
“He keeps talking to me in my head.” Her voice had quieted. Almost to an angry whisper.
Kyle stiffened. “Who keeps talking to you?”
“Liam wants me to kill you.” Her index finger twitched against the trigger. The weapon was ever so close. The trigger’s black indentation practically purred her name.
He doesn’t want you back, Emma, Liam reasoned in her head. You belong to me now.
“Don’t you dare give up,” Kyle growled. “You’ve hung on this long because you’re strong. You’re an alpha, Em.”
“Kyle, I—” The urge to raise the gun to his head overwhelmed her.
Suddenly, he clamped his hand over her mouth. With his right hand, he showed four digits and thrust it toward the hill in the distance. Footsteps scurried on the dirt. Brushes rustled. Closer and closer. She held her breath.
Oh, shit. There was no hiding or turning back now. Liam and his pack had made it past the first line of their defenses.
Chapter 4
Kyle removed his hand from Emma’s mouth and slowly opened the car door. The moon’s glow revealed shadows approaching the house. He’d counted four earlier, but he suspected more hid along the property’s broken buildings.
He refused to think about Emma’s behavior back in the truck. The way her body twitched. The way her gaze blackened as she looked at him. Even worse was the way her hand rested on the gun like she was eager to use it—on him. Just the thought of Em turning on him was something he couldn’t bear. Would he be able to decide between his own life and Em’s?
They waited beside the truck for less than a minute when the explosives in the house were triggered. The sky lit up, and the ground beneath them shook as debris engulfed in flames rained down on them. Emma growled and stared at the smoldering building.
Kyle cocked his shotgun and grinned. Now it’s time to take out the remaining trash. They approached the house and checked for stragglers. He tilted his nose in the air. Not much with the blanket of smoke. Before Liam’s henchmen spotted him, he caught sight of them. Like eager hyenas smelling carrion in the air, they sprinted toward him with claws raised and teeth bared. He fired twice in quick succession, throwing them back a few feet into the dirt.
But where was Liam? He wasn’t the type to hide from a good fight. That much, Kyle remembered. Had a year allowed that piece of shit to soften while he allowed innocent people to do his dirty work? Or maybe the black witch had left him with enough common sense to wait for the opportune moment.
The fire in the house heated his back. Kyle had to fall back and search the outskirts of the ranch. In the distance, he spotted a light by the stable. He hadn’t lit a lantern there when they arrived. His eyebrows lowered. An invitation. One he’d gladly accept. His grip tightened around the shotgun. He had plenty of bullets he wanted to introduce to Liam’s gut.
As they headed for the stable, Emma whispered, “What are we doing?”
“Liam is waiting for us in the stable.”
“The stable? How do you know we didn’t kill him on the road or at the ranch house?”
“Liam may be the ringleader of this madness, but unlike his rabid flunkies, he has the sense to force his prey to come to him.”
She rolled her eyes and tugged at his sleeve. “So you’re willingly heading into the snake’s den?”
He turned to Emma and pulled his arm away. She wouldn’t deny him his moment of revenge now. “I walked into that den a year ago. And in a piss poor state, I may add.”
In the moonlight, her light blue eyes reflected flecks of gray. He stroked her cheek and trailed his fingertips to her chin. “It’s been a long time coming, Em. I have to go in there. You don’t have to go in with me. I can do this alone.”
She shook her head and brushed her lips against his. He didn’t want the moment to end. The softness of her body pressed against his. The sweet scent of her hair filling his nostrils.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to be with you, but I have to do this as well,” she whispered.
Kyle kissed her palm, then turned to head toward the stable entrance. But he didn’t walk that way. Far too easy to go inside and face possible attack. Instead, he crept through one of the open windows along the side. Immediately, he caught the scent of the stable’s contents—hay mixed with the remnants of the horses that had lived there long ago.
The wood didn’t creak or give way when he climbed on the boards and angled himself into an old tack room. Emma followed him. Side by side, they stole through bales of hay, pausing once in a while to listen. But nothing stirred.
He didn’t feel fear. Matter of fact, the hunt drove him forward. He wanted to find Liam and crush him with his bare hands. They stopped suddenly as a flock of ravens burst from the rafters and escaped through an opening in the roof.
He could faintly hear Em’s rapid heartbeat. Hands shaking, she clutched the gun close, but she remained silent. He pulled up his jeans and gave her the bowie knife strapped to his leg, trading knife for gun. She had more experience with a knife anyway. She ran her finger along the blade and gave him her most sinister grin.
‘Atta girl. He gave her a thumbs-up.
They coursed through the storage room faster, searching for Liam, but the hidden nooks and crannies revealed nothing. Then out of the shadows, something—or rather someone—leaped out. A rabid wolf with open jaws and savage claws jumped him. Another one brought up the rear and stalked after Emma.
But instead of taking on her attacker, she suddenly bolted. What the fuck? Kyle couldn’t go after her with the hulking beast trying to wrestle him to the ground. With a grunt, he used one arm to keep the man’s gapping mouth from his face. Its eyes gazed past him, not seeing him as a man, but rather as a target. He angled himself away from the growing stench of decay and reached for his gun. The wolf slapped his arm after he retrieved it, and the blow knocked the gun loose, flinging it through the air and landing far out of reach.
Shit. Even worse, the man’s face began to contort as the change flowed over him. His back hunched, creating a macabre form as the wolf tried to burst forth. With a guttural cry, Kyle pulled out a second Glock, a .30, aimed for the werewolf’s throat and fired quickly.
Five pops later, the glow in the
crazed wolf’s eyes dimmed—the transformation incomplete. With a mighty heave, Kyle shoved the man off his body. He looked to the body lying on the ground and shook his head. What a waste of innocent werewolves. Most of these bastards were relentless now. They didn’t pause to make decisions or choices regarding their actions. They only had one goal: To maim and rip apart anything in their path.
He spied the gun on the floor and pocketed it. After the scuffle, he expected Em to return. But he hadn’t heard a thing. Not even a cry for help. Had she taken out the other wolf? He retraced his steps and headed in the direction she’d ran, her scent still hanging in the air.
She had a knife and knew what to do with it. What kind of trouble could she have fallen into?
On the other side of the stable, Emma sat next to the body of a werewolf she’d taken down. The walls of the empty stall swam in and out of her vision, and the stall door remained open. Nothing blocked her path. Yet she couldn’t rise to find Kyle. She didn’t want him to see her. Not like this. Never like this.
Get up, Emma. He’s close. Take the knife and kill him.
No. She refused to touch the discarded weapon.
She jabbed at the bite with her fingernails, wishing she could draw out the poison, but it was too late. The black tar of Liam’s curse clawed at her mind. The pain from the initial symptoms was much more welcome than the terror of feeling her mind slip away, falling under Liam’s control and losing the love she grasped by the fingertips and tried to hold.
You don’t need him anymore. I’ll always be there with you.
She couldn’t ignore it. The insistent voice suffocated her.
Emma rose on unsteady feet and slightly swayed. The knife lay a few feet away. The shine of the blade beckoned her to pick it up. She had to end this on her own. End the madness tormenting her by finding Liam before she ran back into Kyle.
The shadows in the stall shifted. They’d found her.
She scrambled for the knife and held it out in front of her, ready to kill. Yet the two werewolves stood in place. One of them twitched, an older woman with fists clenching and unclenching. The other one, she recalled with sadness, was one of the postmen who delivered mail in her neighborhood. Sam wasn’t a nameless soul who was posed to attack her. She knew his name and their relationship, however minor, made it all the more difficult to kill him. Their yellow eyes focused on her position. Why hadn’t they attacked?
“Come on,” she muttered. “You chicken?”
You’re one of them now, Emma.
She wiped a line of sweat from her brow. “No, I’m not. I was never yours. That’s why I’m still here.”
Her hand trembled, but she didn’t hesitate as she threw the blade at the woman, effectively killing her with a hit to the chest. The former postman rushed at her, but she was ready. She wouldn’t turn away from her obligation to set him free. He didn’t even struggle when she tackled him, but Emma could see the torture in his eyes as she throttled him. A bitter pill for her to swallow as she took his life away.
The voice in his head was silenced. Soon, mine will be too, she thought as she stormed out of the stall.
This had to end. Now.
Where the hell did she go?
Kyle had scoured the attached carriage house but couldn’t find anything. Abandoned and full of dust, old pictures with happy memories of children playing on the walls stood out in contrast to the withered wallpaper. Cobwebs covered every corner.
Had Liam reached her first? Kyle ventured back to the stable and reached the open pathway lined with stalls. He didn’t have long to wait for company as two forms came for him from the front and back. But he was ready. They burst into the air in wolf form with claws raised and teeth bared. He fired two shots into the closest one. The second werewolf was much stealthier, less eager to strike blindly. The midnight-colored wolf swerved to avoid his gunshots. Fast and vicious, the creature drove him to the ground. With its spindly claws, it gripped his shoulders and bit into his arm.
Fucking hell! The son-of-a-bitch bit him! Scrambling, he reached for his pocket knife and jabbed the beast in its side multiple times.
A sharp yip filled the air. The beast retreated, holding its side before it advanced again. This bastard might not be Liam, but Kyle was just as eager to bring it down, too. They collided again, twisting and turning as they fought for an ideal position over the other. Blood dripped on the floor from both of them, but more blood belonged to the dark wolf that had been gravely wounded in the first strike.
Kyle’s blade had bounced off the ribs, but he knew a gut shot wouldn’t self-heal fast enough. The wolf snapped at him again and again, relentless as its life force spilled on the ground. He didn’t have to wait long as their dance of death came to a close. With another stab from his pocket knife, Kyle tore his attacker open, and the werewolf collapsed at his feet.
He kicked it with his boot as its breaths grew raspy and wet. Then a glint of light blue caught his eye as the wolf blinked. Eyes that had once been the color aquamarine brightened into a sky blue. The dark coat—those eyes. So familiar, as if he’d peered into them before.
Em?
With staggered steps and a cold leaching through his body, he approached his fallen adversary and hesitated before running his fingers through the silken hair. This couldn’t be her. No. Not Emma. She wouldn’t have attacked him. No! Fury built in him as his fingertips bit into his palm. Black waves of anger clenched his stomach.
The memory of her whispered warning came at him again and again: “Liam wants me to kill you.”
“Liam!” No answer. When he bellowed the name again, a soft chuckle emerged from the far side of the stable.
His nemesis emerged from the shadows—with Emma in tow.
The breath he held rushed from his lungs. She was alive. But Liam had one hand clutching her neck, while the other gripped her arm.
A fair-haired woman clutching a white shawl over her shoulder sauntered from behind him. Almost from thin air. The black witch looked like any middle-aged woman, but her light-green eyes flashed with an unnatural fire. “Hurry up and kill this vermin,” she hissed. “I’m tired of this vendetta of yours.”
For a brief moment, Kyle considered backing away. It was too much to handle. He’d never tangled with a witch before. How could he even go up against one? After all this time, Kyle hadn’t expected memories of the pain to wash over him. Liam had changed from the night they fought. As Emma had told him earlier, wrinkles were etched on the edges of Liam’s eyes. A sprinkle of white dotted his sable-colored hair. Liam had lived twenty years before Kyle had been born, but the witch had done something to him to age him even further. She’d sapped his life, and now a much older werewolf stood before him.
Liam smirked. “You always did well when cornered.”
When Kyle stepped closer, Liam clutched Em’s throat tighter. Her face contorted in pain.
“Let her go,” Kyle growled.
“Oh, I meant her no harm. Matter of fact,” he released her, “she’s all yours.”
Emma staggered to him, holding onto her shoulder.
“Em.” When she reached him, he traced his fingertip along her cheek. Seeing her alive calmed the beast simmering within.
Liam said, “Well done, Emma. You led us right to him.”
Chapter 5
Emma’s gaze flitted to Kyle before turning to Liam. That asshole didn’t know when to quit. She spied the bowie knife she’d dropped on the floor and picked it up. Did he think he could turn Kyle against her? She’d make him feel the pain he inflicted on her.
“If Kyle doesn’t kill you, I’ll be happy to oblige.” Black dots darted in and out of her line of sight, but her target didn’t move. She balanced the knife in her hand. The weight of the blade reassured her and gave her the courage to advance on Liam. He shouldn’t have let her go so easily.
“Is it true, Em?” Kyle whispered.
She glanced back. “Are you seriously asking me this question right now?”
&
nbsp; “Because you’re pointing the blade at me and not Liam.”
Oh, God, no. Her vision faded for a moment. Then she realized she stood before Kyle, ready to plunge the knife into his heart. The blade teetered a millimeter or two from his thin shirt. Her grip on the hilt didn’t waver. All she had to do was apply force to end his life.
You belong to me now, my pet.
A tear spilled down her cheek as the witch laughed softly not far from them. “Kyle,” Emma whispered, “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
He held out his hand for the knife. With a single swipe, he could take it away. Yet he’d given her a choice. Her life depended on making the right one.
She had to choose him.
With the gentlest of touches, his palm stroked her cheek. “We’re real. We’ve always been.”
The sound of approaching boots stomping against the ground made her want to turn around, but Kyle held her firmly in place. “This’ll be over soon. I promise.”
No time left. She placed the knife in his waiting palm, and then he shoved her into the wall. Her teeth rattled from the impact, but he’d done it to save her. He wasn’t pushing her away but rather out of the way. A second later, Liam crashed into Kyle. They fell into a bale of hay. Despite the growls, snarls, and claws, Kyle kicked him off. Liam landed with a heavy thud a few feet away.
“You plan to put up a fight, eh?” Liam said with a laugh. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart so much...”
Kyle rose, his eyes gleaming bright yellow. Tufts of fur lined his face and hands. Before ramming into Liam, it was the wolf who roared. Fists flew as Kyle pummeled into Liam’s face. He didn’t pause to take a breath.
Emma tried to shake off the pain as she took in the scene. She had to help. Then she spotted the knife. The moonlight reflected against the serrated edge. Her legs gave away briefly when she rose, but after three steps, she reached the knife. Time to act.
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