Sorcha's Wolf

by Billi Jean

  Alex crouched on the rocks next to him. The demon hadn’t said a word when he’d pulled Alex and Markee from the destruction caused by the human made bomb. For that, Alex might forgive him his friendship with Sorcha.

  Now, crouched above what looked like a hundred foot drop, Alex examined the rough chasm.

  “The hole is man-made,” he observed.

  “I believe so. The magic users are reinforcing the area, especially the tunnels, with spells. You’ll need to get down—” Agni broke off suddenly and Alex tilted his head, hearing what had caused Agni alarm.

  Sorcha.

  She didn’t scream, but the curses floating up from the deep were enough to make Alex’s heart feel close to bursting.

  “You dirty, mangy son of a goat herder! You’ll never make this work. Never. Trouble will slice you in two after Alex puts your head on a spike. You—”

  Her heartfelt cry broke off abruptly leaving a small echo of her voice between him and Agni.

  “What the hell?” Agni spluttered.

  “She’s bound, or worse. I need down there,” Alex growled.

  A light floated nearer the bottom of the rocky bluff. When it did, his skin chilled and his heart felt like it stopped. Sorcha. He saw her clearly. She was spread-eagle over a circle hanging beneath him.

  “That’s Sorcha, there. Fuck, they have her on a five-pointed star. This cannot be good, man. You need to get your ass down there, knock out the mages and break the spell protecting this place from my entrance. One of those mages—hell, what are you doing?” The blond demon broke off, reaching for him when Alex turned to drop his feet over the side of the rocky chasm. “You can’t simply drop down that far and hope to survive.”

  “I’ll survive,” he growled. “I’ll kill the mages. You get your ass down there and free Sorcha as soon as I do.” He’d lived through the blast. He’d make this drop. His back was still healing, but nothing was stopping him from getting Sorcha out of here. She’d saved him, merely by existing, and he’d not let her fall to any more harm because of him.

  “Yeah? Well, you are still healing wolf, you might want to go slow. But you kill the mage casting the spell—that one—and I’ll hop down after you and make it look good, too.”

  Alex snorted, but he understood. Agni was in for the battle. Markee was too hurt. With him out of the game, Alex had Markee calling other, not so pleasant re-enforcements. The pup had argued, nearly busting open his wounds again trying to get out of bed. Markee was a good man, and after this, Alex owed him.

  “Yeah, you do that, demon,” he said, and let go of his grip, falling fast but watching where his feet headed. He landed on the structure with Sorcha in a low crouch. Her scream cut short when the circle tipped and they dropped several feet. He assessed her face, then her slim body, pissed off when the new clothing registered. They’d stripped her down.

  “Alex,” she breathed his name with such a mixture of emotions he couldn’t pull them free enough to understand why tears suddenly shown in her eyes.

  “Stay here, let me kill a few mages, then we can talk about this.”

  Her eyes rounded out then she laughed. “Silly wolf, we don’t need to talk about shit, get me free, damn it!”

  “Kill him!” a man screamed, breaking into their discussion.

  “Hold on,” he yelled and sliced the ropes at her arms. “Get your legs free.”

  “What? Are you nuts? No, no, don’t do that!” she screamed when he jumped free and pulled his broad sword. Sparks flew around him, some sort of magic he knew, but he dived out of the way of the blast and rolled, landing behind one of the black robed mages. He gutted him quickly and spun to face another tattooed man—not Zith, he registered—and deflected a burst of red sparks from the man’s hands by slicing one limb free. The man went down in a heap, huddled around his useless arm. The chanting had stopped, at least he could barely hear it, but where the man was that still kept Agni back, he couldn’t pin point.

  He quickly scanned the chamber, spotting three remaining mages and beyond them another figure—Zith. The mage had changed in ways that sent a chill down Alex’s spine and settled into his bones. Bare chested to reveal tattoos along his torso—of faces of all things—he disgusted Alex. Deep within his mind, he felt his wolf rear up, snarling and snapping. Power surged through Alex’s muscles as he allowed his wolf free. Together, neither one nor the other in control, they faced off with Zith.

  “Ah, I see you would like to seal our bargain properly, Lykae Lykae.”

  “I want what was promised,” Alex growled.

  From behind him, he heard Sorcha struggling with the ropes, the faint sounds worrying him. He paced to the left, away from the three remaining mages and towards his main target—Zith. Suddenly, he made out the sound of men running—more jackals no doubt. On his right, he registered that one of the mages chanted, a steady, even sound that Alex couldn’t catch until he slowed. This must be the mage to kill, why else was he whispering?

  “You were promised a pendant, but sadly”—Zith spread his arms wide, making wings of his black robe sand exposing more of his tattooed torso—“I found I have need of it instead. And the witch.” As he spoke, ten men burst through the archways leading into the chamber. Yellow flashed in their eyes, the sign of their jackals, as they took up positions in the room. By their sides, fierce, evil looking dogs barked and snarled. Zith raised his arm and Alex slowly comprehended that his spell aimed straight at Sorcha.

  With a yell of her name, he tried to jump in front of her, but it was too late, he heard a muffled sound and turned to see she’d fallen back, clutching the circle as it wobbled.

  Alex spun, facing Zith again, drawing a small throwing dagger. Not breaking eye contact with the bastard, he threw the knife directly at the murmuring mage. A scream filled the air—a man’s—and from the side of his vision he watched the mage crumple to the ground.

  Zith’s face contorted in rage and he threw his head back and gave a mighty battle yell.

  Wrong move, bastard.

  Alex leapt across the space and knocked him ten feet across the cavern and up against a wall. Immediately he used his sword hilt to bash the sick bastard in his tattooed face. He heard a satisfying crunch of bones, but immediately Zith used more strength than Alex had given him credit for, and tossed Alex backward enough to break out of his hold.

  In his hands, a sword appeared and with a snarl, he tried to use the too long weapon. Alex caught the blade easily, knocked the sword to the ground, and twisted to use it to pin his opponent’s hand to the ground. Just as quickly, he punched Zith several times in the kidneys. The sick bastard snarled like a beast and Alex felt his skin tingle seconds before he went flying across the chamber.

  It all happened so fast he could barely make sense that he’d had Zith in his hands and lost his opportunity to kill him. Ten feet now stood between them, filled with barking dogs and angry Jackals. Sorcha yelled his name behind him and suddenly Agni dropped next to him, sword already out to slice through the nearest men.

  “Get her out of her here, come back if you have to, but get her free.”

  Alex didn’t waste time arguing, he twisted away from a Jackal and raced to where Sorcha still struggled. Above his head, he felt something snap and the ropes nearest him broke. The massive circle tipped and she suddenly faced him. She had her hands free, but clutched the wooden cross beams so tightly he could see the whites of her knuckles.

  A Jackal hit him hard from the side, knocking him off his target and down to one knee.

  “Alex!” Sorcha’s frightened scream echoed in his head. His wolf snarled, seeking to get him to his feet and free from the man trying to take his head.

  “Fuck!” Alex tossed the man off and leapt to his feet, his sword connecting with the jackal’s in a shower of sparks. With more skill than any of the others so far, the man met each of Alex’s attacks with one of his own.

  “You’re the wolf whose been killing my men,” he snarled. Yellow and black haired, the man s
tood nearly the same height as Alex, with a reach that made his broadsword deadly.

  “If your bastard jackals weren’t out to rape women and kill me, they’d not be dead,” Alex grunted.

  The jackal lifted a lip in a snarl, revealing canines nearly as big as a Lykae. The man smelt of sweat and power, but no evil stained him. Alex would still kill him. Behind him, he heard the circle crash into the rocks and Sorcha’s short, frightened shriek. His wolf surged up and he used the power to tackle the man to the ground, holding his killing blow at the last minute. Sword to the jackal’s throat he met the man’s yellow eyes. “Stop trying to kill me and mine.”

  He left the man down. Sorcha was his main priority. She wasn’t visible, but he saw the top of the circle and the two remaining mages. Another rope snapped and he dived, barely making it to her before the entire circle swung around and toppled with a deafening crash against the side of the rocks. He jumped and landed on the edge of the circle. For a moment, their eyes met. Sorcha looked white as a ghost. The wood under his boots shuddered and with a suddenness that made Sorcha squeeze her eyes shut tight, the thing shot straight down.

  “Get them! Don’t let her go!”

  The angry shout followed them, but he caught Sorcha’s trembling body to him, trying to get her to release her death grip on the ropes. They jarred to an abrupt halt, teetering for a long, intense moment before the circle landed with a crash against the rocks.

  “Come to me, let go, sweetheart, let go.”

  He hated how she shook her head, fear dripping from her and making his wolf insane to kill someone for frightening her. The circle tipped again but halted again abruptly against the side of the chasm. He released her closed fist and sheathed his blade, quickly bending to slice the remaining rope around her ankle with a knife.

  “Did you break the potion?”

  She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut.

  “We need off this thing. Let the wood go and take my hand. Open your eyes, Sorcha. Come, trust me.”

  She opened her eyes a crack.

  “Give me your hand, sweet.”

  She nodded, fearful, but with such complete faith in her green eyes, he felt like she’d knocked him in the chest.

  The wood creaked and he knew the thing wasn’t going to last. It had jammed but if he shifted his weight, it was going to tip the frame and they’d both go down again. Above them, he heard yells and fighting. Along the sides of the chasm, he heard the sound of boots hitting rock—running soldiers.

  “We need to move, let go and grab my arm. There’s a ledge and a tunnel. We go, now.”

  They didn’t have the time for this, but he pulled her to him gently and urged her slowly onto the ledge. The shift unbalanced the circle and they tipped backwards two feet. She gasped and her hands slipped from him.

  “Damn it, hold on.”

  “I’m trying!” The fear and frustration in her tone made him smile, but he helped her to him one step at a time off the damn thing. “I hate heights, Alex,” she whispered as soon as she reached him.

  Two more ropes snapped above them. Alex stepped onto the ledge and the wooden circle made a horrible creaking noise then tumbled end over end down the rocky chasm. It fell until they couldn’t hear more than the rumble of its decent. Sorcha clutched his shirt and shuddered at the sound of it.

  Suddenly he smelt blood—her blood. “You’re hurt!”

  She nodded against his chest. “Do you have the other potion because I can’t break the poison,” she murmured.

  Weakness from Sorcha scared him more than anything he’d faced in his life. She was never weak and had never sounded so frail.

  “What did he do to you?” He hunted along her body until he found the slice on her wrist. It was deep and angry looking, seeping blood at a rapid rate. “What is this? How did he do this?”

  “A knife, spelled.”

  He tore a piece of his shirt off quickly, hearing the sound of men coming closer through the tunnels. Her wrist looked so small, he lifted it to his lips, but she stopped him with a hissed breath.

  “No, no it might be dangerous. Just bind it.”

  Nodding, he wrapped her wrist tightly and reluctantly let her arm go. “I have the real antidote. I want you to take it all. You must take the entire contents, but—” He broke off, worry attacking his mind from all angles.

  “But you’re not sure what it will do to me.”

  He nodded. “Aye, best to get you somewhere safe.”

  She gave him a peeved look and huffed out a breath. “Alex, you brought it as your back up plan—”

  “There! There he is!” The shout cut her off mid-sentence.

  Shit, no time, no time to tell her he’d rather die a million deaths than have her suffer like this. What if the antidote harmed her more?

  She took the decision from him simply by digging into his pocket and taking the vial herself. The damn witch—how she’d known where he’d stashed it was beyond him.

  “Kill them, Alex. Then we kill him.” With that, she pulled the stopper from the vial and tipped it to her lips.

  The enemy burst into the chamber and from above him, he heard Agni’s shout that Zith had escaped.

  All Alex’s plans came down to this—here and now—but everything spun too fast along paths he’d not anticipated. The only thing that was clear was that this woman was all that mattered to him now.

  He turned and took a full hit to the chest, hearing Sorcha scream his name behind him in a tone he’d never heard before—fear.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  As Sorcha watched, Alex fell backwards, a sword pinning him to the wall. The tip had embedded in his chest, and already blood pooled around the white of his shirt. With a jerk, the jackal pulled his sword free and Alex slid to the ground, as if his legs couldn’t hold him any longer.

  The next seconds burnt into her mind as time seemed to slow. She let go of her fear, her anger, all her emotions, and latched onto the antidote even now burning through the barrier in her mind. With a mental shove, she ripped the poison aside and flooded her system with the magic surrounding her. The rock beneath her feet shook as her homeland welcomed her. Power surged through her system, cleansing a path through the spell Zith had cast when he’d sliced her wrist to drain her. Welcomed warmth spread to every inch of her body.

  “Welcome, daughter.”

  The feminine voice startled her for only a moment before she opened her eyes to see the sun shining through a green canopy of trees.

  Trees?

  Alex. Where is Alex?

  All around her, the woods of her home shone bright with colour and life. One woman stood away from the forest.

  Bridget.

  Her goddess walked to her slowly. Bow slung over her shoulder, her sword strapped to her waist, the goddess moved like a warrior—strong and capable. At her side flew a black raven, its eyes holding more knowledge than any mere bird should ever possess.

  Sorcha fell to her knees, too stunned to recall the proper words of greeting.

  “Bah, who cares about that, or this kneeling stuff, up, up, you’ll make me feel odd doing that,” Bridget called, bringing Sorcha up with a hand on her arm. “You have done well, Sorcha. Your home welcomes you.”

  She stared at Bridget’s beauty and all she could think of was how much she wanted this—to have her goddess welcome her—but not, actually, right now. Now she wanted Alex—wanted him so badly she felt a dull ache spread through her chest where her heart should be beating.

  As if reading her mind, no doubt she was, Bridget grinned and crossed her arms. “You do not want a welcome?”

  Sorcha ignored that and focused on what was important. “Why am I here? Why now? All this time I needed you and now I need to go back, back to help Alex. He’s—”

  “You would argue with my timing?” Bridget tilted her blonde head. The raven landed on the arm she lifted and climbed daintily to her shoulder.

  “Well,” Sorcha suddenly realised that was exactly what she’d been
doing. She ducked her head and tried for calm when inside she burnt with the need to reach Alex.

  “You need to make choices Brightest Star. You can choose this male, make a life for yourselves or stay and kill this evil mage, losing the wolf forever.”

  Sorcha gaped at Bridget, only realising when the goddess grinned, that she knew how impossible those choices were. And how simple. “I choose Alex, now let me go back, he’s …”

  She couldn’t continue with that thought. He couldn’t be dead.

  “He is fine. You have helped him embrace his wolf and together they are hard to kill, eh?”

  “Don’t say that!”

  Bridget laughed and gripped her shoulder. “Tis only a small joke, witch. Now, we must talk before you rush back to—”

  “Is he lying there hurting?” Sorcha demanded, nearly dancing from foot to foot with impatience.

  “Ah, so you are the wise and calm leader of our coven, eh?” Bridget teased with a grin. “Time has stopped Sorcha, not slowed as it does in the Fay Realm. He knows nothing of our talk.”

  Sorcha should have been relieved, but anxiety bit at her to return. “What do you wish to talk with me about?”

  Bridget shook her head and snorted. “You will survive this battle, Sorcha, but this mage, he is an evil that will have to be dealt with. He corrupts the very land we love. The snow demon was a part of that corruption, but this mage is staining our home with his darkness. You must return to Scotland. The coven cannot remain on this far off continent any longer. It is time for you to return.”

  She wanted that—to live here, in her homeland with Alex. “I will.”

  “The entire coven, Sorcha. The move will balance the scales. When you settle with your mate, you must hunt this mage and kill him. The fight with the Death Stalkers will continue as it should, no evil such as theirs should be allowed to live, but this mage, he needs to be destroyed.”

  That would be harder. “That might be difficult, not the killing Rage part,” she pacified Bridget when the warrior frowned, “but moving my coven. I mean, we are strong, and even feared, but we are independent for the most part, and scattered throughout the land. I can’t predict if they will follow my lead here to—”