by Morgan Wylie
“Yes, flower. Building.” His words didn’t make a ton of sense, and he seemed to be verging on delirium, but she understood. Poppy began touching buttons on her tablet, her fingers flying across the screen. Finding what she wanted, she jolted upright. “I got you, you bastard,” she whispered with vindication.
Mather groaned as she jostled him, doing what she needed to do. “Sorry, Mat. Almost there. Hang on.” She paused and wiped his hair off his forehead then did a few more things on the tablet. “Don’t you dare head toward that light if you see it, or I’m going to have to follow your ass and haunt you through hell if that’s where you’re going.”
“Hurry.” He coughed then groaned as the coughing pushed more blood out of his chest. The shirt she pressed there quickly saturated with crimson. “Not planning on it, brother,” Mather whispered. Poppy looked over at him, her expression confused as there was no one else nearby. She had heard of the twins having a special bond, a magical bond that even wasn’t normal for shifters, but this far from the Lair that would be unheard of. Right?
“Got it!” she blurted out then sighed with relief. In the middle of the field, a building emerged, uncloaked. Poppy jumped up and braced her arms under Mather’s. “You’re gonna have to help me a bit, big guy.” She heaved and half-lifted half-dragged him into the cellar doorway they had originally come out of before all the shit began.
Poppy hid him behind a cement wall and assessed his damage, reapplying the staunch as best she could. “You need help,” she mused out loud.
“No. I need to fight,” Mather rasped out. “I’ll heal. It missed my main artery and heart. So that’s good.” His breathing was heavy, and his eyes closed as he spoke, but his hand had gripped hers, and it didn’t feel like he was letting go anytime soon.
“Yes, that’s good,” Poppy agreed with a relieved laugh. Shifters had amazing healing properties within their body, but it usually took some time and a good amount of rest, neither of which they had at the moment. “Rest and heal all you can so we can get out of here alive.” She moved the hair out of his eyes again. As her hand settled on his shoulder, his large green orbs locked with hers, and the openness and vulnerability she saw there flayed her raw. Tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t lose you, Mather. It took too long to get you.” A hiccup escaped her throat as she tried to swallow it down.
“Not yet, flower. I plan to make you mine in every way possible as soon as we get home.” He gave her a roguish smile.
“You must be getting better to be making such plans.” She swatted his shoulder with one hand as she swiped at an escaped tear with the other.
“Love, I need you to do something for me while I heal.”
“Anything,” she replied, scooting closer to him.
“Stick your head out the crack and see where we are with the fight. Does it look like we’re winning?” Mather growled at the pain he felt when he shifted to a more slouched sitting position.
Poppy nodded and crept slowly toward the entrance they arrived through. She ventured as far as she dared without being spotted then returned to Mather. “Rylen and everyone seem to have swarmed the building and are surrounding it while they fight. It appears most of Eli’s men are down and some are running. I couldn’t see Eli.”
“Good, but shit, I should be out there.” Mather looked down at his chest and picked up the layers of materials to inspect his wound. “See already healing… faster than usual, I might add.” Mather frowned in thought but shrugged. “Give me few more minutes, and I’ll be good to go.”
“There’s no way in hell you are going back out there in just a few minutes!” Outraged at the thought, Poppy stood up and paced. “You almost died, Mat.”
“And I would do it all again. This is what I do, flower. I’m a part of this team, and that’s my family out there. You said you accepted all of me—this is part of me. Just like when you have a crazy hair-brained idea and run out into the middle of fighting men twice your size to do what you need to do. We are warriors, and for our family, for our future… we fight.” Mather’s eyes pierced hers, willing her to be on the same page.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t break eye contact, but she did stand right above him and slowly drop down to his lap, straddling his thighs.
“We fight,” she echoed before pressing her lips to his. Soft and slow, she devoured his lips, savoring his taste and the feel of his mouth on hers. It was a promise of things to come in their future after the shitstorm they were in ended. A growl erupted in Mather’s chest, part battle cry as their passion intensified, part frustration at the timing and his inability to do more. She pulled back and smiled at him. “Can I see?” she nodded toward his shirt now soaked with blood.
He tore open the ruined shirt to show her the wound. Carefully, she wiped away the excess blood with what was left of her button-up shirt. Her fingers gently caressed the tender area surrounding the torn but healing flesh. She gasped, her eyes flying to Mather’s now closed ones. His face grimaced in excruciating pain, and he breathed heavily. “Slowly, brother,” Mather whispered through gritted teeth.
Poppy’s eyes remained wide, refusing to shut at the sight before her. The wound was vibrating as the bullet painstakingly made its way out of Mather’s chest. Finally, the bullet flopped out and onto the ground, landing with a clink on the cement. Mather sighed audibly and slumped against his shoulder as he passed out. Poppy didn’t know what to do, but she wrapped the bullet into a piece of her shirt and put it in her pocket. The blood had stopped flowing; in fact, Mather’s wound had completely closed up. His flesh was pink and scarred but whole once more. Poppy searched in the rooms of the basement and found a cup of water in Alana’s former cell. She used a little to wipe her hands and put some more onto a section of Mather’s discarded shirt. She began to wipe the rest of the blood off his chest, but all she seemed to accomplish was making a smeared mess. Frustrated, she went back to the crack in the door she had closed, spying on the action outside.
She watched Enock stand with Alana cradled in his arms, and then he and Masia made their way to the building. Along the way, Alana woke up and pushed out of Enock’s arms so she could stand on her own. Alana’s fierce independence made Poppy giggle. She would definitely make a good mate for Rylen and a good female alpha for the PAC, assuming she had come into her own and wouldn’t fade away. The thought randomly stuck Poppy, and sadness enveloped her; Alana was her friend, and she wanted to get to know her more. Poppy pulled on the door, stopping as the creaking grew louder, not wanting to wake Mather. She pulled again more slowly to allow Enock entry. Masia came running toward her first and entered, breathing hard.
“Thank you! You’re all right!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around Poppy, giving her a big hug.
“So are you!” Poppy returned the hug with enthusiasm. “Mather got shot, so I’m hiding him here.” She gestured a little further down from the door.
“I’m not hiding,” Mather growled from behind her, making his way to her, slowly sliding against the wall.
“Of course, you’re not, you’re healing.” Poppy rolled her eyes.
“Enock’s coming with Alana, but she was proving difficult, then Rylen got to her,” Masia explained, pointing out the door. They all moved forward to do what they could to help.
Most all of Eli’s people had fled or were lying dead on the ground. Rylen had run to Alana and scooped her up in his arms, kissing her like they were never going to see each other, or thought they wouldn’t, again. It was raw and passionate and caused Poppy to blush while Masia, the newcomer, turned her head to look at something else, not wanting to intrude. It was rare that Rylen showed so much affection in front of the entire team, but under the circumstances, it was expected.
The sky had lightened, preparing for daybreak to arrive. The scene of the battlefield was gruesome and heartbreaking. Some members of the PAC were dragging their dead enemies over to a pile they had started near the building as other members gathered their own fallen so they co
uld do a proper burial—thankfully, that amount was much smaller. Others, still, gathered the wounded and the wounded undead—the vampires who would return to them once they had received some blood to revive them. Doc would hook them up when they returned to the Lair.
So much death. So much horror that shouldn’t have happened, all because of a mad man and his vendetta against those so different from himself he couldn’t allow them to live.
“Let’s go finish this up,” Mather instructed as he slowly hobbled to climb the few stairs that led up to the ground. Poppy and Masia followed him up to join the others.
Enock met Mather, patting him on the back. “Glad you’re still with us, man. Though we might have lost ya.”
“Me? I don’t go down that easily, I’m insulted you even suggested it,” Mather retorted with a scowl, but the vulnerability of what had almost happened shown in his eyes and conveyed what words wouldn’t at the moment.
“Good, I don’t know who I’d mop up the court with at one on one if you had… probably one of the girls,” Enock smiled, but his eyes understood the truth of the matter: it had been a close call.
Mather slugged him, but it was more for show. Rylen strode over to him and stopped right in front of him, searching his eyes before anything was said. Mather knew Rylen was assessing him with his magic, it was something he refrained from doing unless extreme situations called for it because it left Rylen momentarily vulnerable. Enock stood at Rylen’s back until he was finished. Rylen nodded then clasped Mather’s arm, pulling him in for a hug between warriors and brothers alike, clapping each other on the back, which left Mather slightly winded though he covered it with a manly cough. Watching the whole interaction with interest, Poppy rolled her eyes at the lack of open affection the men displayed and yet marveled at the depths of their care and communication without words.
“You healed faster than I expected,” Rylen acknowledged.
Mather nodded in agreement. “Luc helped. He felt closer than he should’ve been for what he was able to do.”
Finally, some answers. “So it was Luc. He pushed the bullet out of your chest? Just from his energy or the bond between you two?” Poppy asked with genuine intrigue.
“Yeah, both. I still think he was closer than the Lair. It’s never worked from that far away before,” Mather answered, his words hushed. It wasn’t a topic they discussed openly, even amongst the members of the PAC.
Rylen raised his eyes at Mather in question, but his mouth smirked in his all-knowing way. To answer his unasked question, Mather reached out and grabbed Poppy’s hand, holding it tightly within his own and drawing her close to his side. Rylen nodded with a genuine smile.
“Hey, how did you get Black Widow to send you some of her minions?” Enock asked, watching the drones, all dressed the same in black uniforms with red hourglasses in the upper right corners by their shoulders. They moved individually, but they had an eerie collective conscience about them.
“She didn’t.” Rylen’s eyes glowed with his magic and mischief. “They were guarding the lair I found Mai’s brother in, and I felt it was within my right since she had taken one of mine and tortured him and then blackmailed Mai to work against us.” Rylen looked out at the mass of conformity and shrugged. “It took some work, but I rewired them… I think. It might be temporary.” He laughed, but just then, he noticed one of the minion’s eyes glowing red, unlike everyone else’s, his head turned directly toward Rylen as if he heard him from the other side of the field.
It happened fast—but in slow motion all at the same time: Enock’s sharp inhale as he heard the whip of the object through the air and Rylen’s head swiveling to see the direct challenge and threat in the drone’s eyes as they turned from red to the blackest black, swallowing any white of the man’s orbs. Time almost stood still as Rylen’s hands whipped apart, spreading air and time itself with his power. The dagger flew straight and true; its target would have surely been hit had Rylen not intervened and slowed it down. To everyone else, the scene played out at full speed, but to Rylen, he had all the time in the world to do what needed to be done. He stopped the knife, clapping it between his hands, flipped it around, and threw it with the strength of his magic back to its sender. His hold on time released then, and he watched with pleasure as the creature’s eyes widened right before the dagger struck between them. Message sent. No one tries to kill his mate.
A collective release of breath occurred as real-time caught up with everyone and they realized what had happened. Looking from one to the next, a decision was made. “Time to get rid of the goons, I guess,” Rylen suggested, lightening the mood.
“Ya think?” Enock concurred.
But before Rylen had a chance to do anything, Black Widow’s minions disappeared en masse. All at once, they were simply gone, returned to wherever it was she must have pulled them to.
“Makes my job easier.” Rylen shrugged his shoulders, pulling Alana close to him. She would not be out of his reach until they were home, not even then, he suspected.
“Damn. She did that without a portal,” Mather noted while Enock whistled in frightened awe.
“Can we go home now?” Alana asked, leaning against Rylen’s frame. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the top of her head.
“Absolutely, love.”
“What happened to Eli? Did you take him down?” Mather asked menacingly.
“The coward ran, but I’m not worried, we’ll get him yet,” Rylen explained.
“And Lacy?” Poppy asked.
“Ran with him, but she has been stripped of her access to the Lair and her memory was wiped as to its location and secrets,” Rylen followed with a sneer, inferring he had enjoyed taking that piece from her. He smiled remembering how it happened back at the Lair.
“Bitch deserved it,” Poppy added.
“Yeah, she did,” Enock echoed.
“She deserved more—that was boss being merciful,” Mather expounded as they walked toward the vehicles.
Once all the fallen and wounded members of the PAC were taken care of, Rylen, his inner circle, and the team stood at the edge of the forest that surrounded the clearing, which now held an abandoned building and a pile of bodies.
“Such a waste.” Rylen shook his head.
“Let ‘er rip, man,” Mather encouraged.
Rylen said a few words and flung his fingers toward the pile of bodies. They ignited with nothing more than a spark, their souls being sent back to where they came from. With another set of words, Rylen began the next spell.
“Excuse me, Rylen?” Poppy interrupted. Rylen raised an eyebrow in her direction. “May I?” She held out her tablet.
Rylen shrugged and took a step back, gesturing she take the floor. Poppy smiled and opened a program on her tablet, pressing a series of buttons and tabs. A high-pitched beep sounded.
“3…2…1,” Poppy whispered before she said, “Boom.” It was followed by the biggest boom of all, causing even Rylen to duck and pull Alana with him to shield her. Mather had grabbed Poppy, pulling her back to the ground with him, but she smiled the entire way down, even laughing with glee at what she was able to do—a page she could now turn for not only their PAC but also for her and Mather. Now, to start anew. As she struggled to stand and Mather helped her up, she realized that they were all either laughing, hooting, or hollering in celebration—not for the deaths of their enemies but for their lives that would continue.
“Let’s get home. We have a life to start,” Mather kissed Poppy full on the mouth in front of everyone, which only incited more cheers from the rest, except for the “about damn time,” from Enock.
“About damn time, indeed!” Poppy smiled and kissed Mather back.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Family meeting has come to order,” Rylen announced, silencing the chatter throughout the Throne Room. “I know it’s barely been 24 hours since the Battle at the Invisible Bunker—or so Mather has been calling it—but Doc and his team have already res
tored almost all the wounded and resuscitated almost all the undead.” Claps and shouts from various members were encouraging. “Yes, all good news. We owe a lot to Doc. Give him a pat on the back when you see him.” Rylen addressed the large group all seated around the table or standing against the walls around the room. It was the largest showing of PAC members they had had in quite some time, but Rylen felt it was time to bring them all in the know as much as was safe. “Sadly, we did lose a few of our members. They will be missed, and their sacrifice was worth more than they could ever know,” Rylen lowered his head in a show of respect but also to hide the terror he felt when he saw Eli’s men gunning for Alana. Thanks to Bastion, she was saved, and for that, he would be eternally grateful to him. “They will be buried in our private lot, and tomorrow we will hold vigils for anyone who wants to pay respects.”
The room remained quiet as Rylen looked at each of them, assessing the room and taking note of all present. “On a different note, I would like to introduce you to our newest member, Masia Lotham.” He turned to where she was seated by his mate and gestured for her to stand. Masia stood to face the room and smiled. Nerves fell off her in waves, but she remained confident and unwavering. Rylen approved. “Masia—
“Please, Sir, feel free to call me Mazy.” Masia smiled and sat back down in her seat.
“Very well, Mazy, you will be training with Enock and also under Poppy in Headquarters to see what you are capable of as you learn about your gifts.”
“Thank you so much.” She practically bounced in her seat as she smiled and waved at Poppy a couple seats away from her.
Rylen’s smile was genuine as he watched his people come closer together. A throat cleared by his side; his mate Alana tilted her head in Mai’s direction, reminding him what came next. Apparently, she didn’t think he could run his own meetings. He chuckled internally at the almost instant changes he could see in his mate. He didn’t believe they were truly out of the woods with the curse that had been placed upon her—even though Alana believed it to be broken. Only time would tell as she approached her twenty-first birthday just a couple weeks away. Rylen truly hoped so, but knowing who placed the curse in the first place, he had his doubts.