Brendan's smile widened. “News to me.”
Jen punched him a good one in the arm.
She used her knuckles like he'd taught her. He leaped back as she swung and it was a glancing blow but she'd made him flinch.
Felt good.
Brendan looked at his tiger of a sibling. On the prowl.
Girls, he thought, rubbing the red spot she'd made, his smile returning as he looked at her.
****
The Ritual of Luna
Adriana looked at Julia and thought she cleaned up pretty good. She eyed her critically, taking in the all-white ensemble. She couldn't help but connect the dots of symbolism here. Virginal lamb led to slaughter. Actually, she didn't really know about Jules' background except she was still sorta hung up on her husband. The guy had been dead, what? For-freakin'-ever. Like get over it yesterday. But, she'd hardly been able to get through talking about him to tell Adriana what her story was. Even she had to admit Julia hadn't had the greatest life. Parents dead at eight, lived with crappy and resentful relative. Soulmate husband bled out by rogue Were.
That was troubling to Adriana. Why had the Were taken out the Singer? It was an amateur's move. She couldn't understand why he'd been a target at all. Any idiot whelpling knew that a werewolf could subdue a human without killing them. Hell! One of the Were could subdue four humans. It puzzled her. Something smelled funky and she'd love to find out the cause of it. Of course, Adriana knew from experience that when she started sniffing around, her nose got slapped.
That pissed her right the hell off.
“Adi?” Julia asked, her champagne-colored hair finally free of the black hair dye and well past her shoulders again.
“Huh?” Adriana jerked her head up. She'd really been a million miles away.
“What were you thinking about?”
Lots of secret speculation. “Just distracting crap.” Partial truth.
Julia had the distinct impression that Adi had been thinking about something interesting. She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but think of Cyn. She'd have died about Julia wearing white. It just wasn't her color.
She'd been told it was symbolic.
The dress had been made for her. Actually, it had been a standard size and altered to fit her. The bodice was simple and crossed underneath her breasts, leaving the tops exposed, narrowing to her waist, where the full skirt flared at the hip and came to what Aunt Lily had called “ballerina length.” That was just above the ankle to the uninitiated. That had been her. Uh-huh. Not anymore. Cyn had seen to it. The material was some kind of chiffon, filmy and light, opaque and lovely.
Julia wasn't nervous about their ritual. Her plan had been the same all along. She had her telekinetic skills down. When the werewolves were distracted by their fighting, she'd split. The get-up was as retarded as they come for her badly hatched Escape Plan but she'd spied keys and she would use them. Couldn't she hop in a car and drive away in princess white?
Yeah, she could.
She'd miss Adi. It figured that she'd bond with a female werewolf in the Den of Iniquity. Geez.
She turned away from her reflection but couldn't help asking Adi, “You promise your brother will... beat Tony?”
Adi nodded her head enthusiastically. “He'll kick his ass.”
Julia gulped. “What if he kills him?”
Adi shrugged. “No loss for me. Besides, if he thinks he's Alpha enough to fight the big dogs, he can get all froggy and jump on the lily pad.”
Julia smiled. Adi was so like Cyn it made her heart ache. She turned away before Adi could see her expression.
But Adriana did see it.
She frowned as she followed Julia outside toward the pavilion. Unease was forming in her mind.
Something was wrong.
Adriana would be watchful. But first, she had one final chore to screw with after she settled Julia in her position within the ring of the pavilion.
*
William
William stayed upwind of the mongrels and prayed for the breeze to stay as it was. He watched the sun sink low in the sky, washing the branches a sunset color.
The trees looked like they were weeping.
Crying tears of blood.
A small smile formed on William's face at the visual analogy.
Time grew short.
He was ready.
Julia stood by herself as people began to fill a great open gazebo. It was actually ancient in its composition. Great pillars held the roof above it, a hammered copper, so green not an ounce of its original bronze color showed through. The pillars had been made of marble and the materials used were the most incongruous she'd ever seen. Here, in the middle of an old forest full of trees over one hundred years old, stood a structure that would have been more at home in Rome.
She looked at the scarred marble tiles at her feet, streaked with veins of grey and speckles of gold. The grout must have been some white color at one time, but now had a dove grey hue from age.
All eyes were upon her when Lawrence approached. Julia took a step backward, his physical presence was so overbearing, his personality the same. Mega creeper, Julia thought. And not for the first time. Goose flesh broke out on the skin of her arms, bare to the weather. It was warm enough for what she wore but in the presence of the Packmaster, it was cold.
The chill of death sunk its bite into her bones.
He ignored her unease and turned Julia in the direction of the crowd.
Like a prize. A prize breeding mule. How flattering for her.
Julia had an excellent view of the seating that was built-in all around her in a circular presentation. It rose out of the ground as an integral part of the pavilion, each seat a curved unit, higher than the last. None of the faces were friendly, all somber.
Julia guessed that some were not happy with the fighting and death.
Or... with her.
She'd never been popular.
Tony and Joseph watched the fragile beauty of the Rare One showcased in her rightful position in the pavilion, the Ritual of Luna nearly begun.
Their faces turned to the sun sinking behind the mountains, night and day balanced on the finest scale.
Finally it tipped to night and the moon winked into existence.
The glory of her fullness exerted an irresistible pull as the men changed into their otherness in unfurling brutality. Flesh and bone burst, shifted and sloughed onto the ground at their feet.
Their snouts came together, five in all. The challenge in their eyes unmet but for a few moments more.
They trod out to the pavilion, to their destiny.
Julia watched them come and her arms gripped the side rails of the great chair the Packmaster had forced her into.
Like she was royalty or something.
She guessed she was to them.
Soon, she thought.
Soon.
The feral heard the fight begin just as the female entered his prison. He swung his head in her direction as she looked around in confusion. Obviously distracted.
Normally, full moon duty on the feral would have gone to someone else... several someones for the danger factor, but she'd gotten nailed with it because of her stunt. It'd been worth it. Adriana entered through the heavy door, her eyes sweeping the cage.
Adriana panicked, where had the feral gone? Oh no! He'd escaped? Without thinking about anything... her safety, protocol, anything... Adi slapped the slot open and felt around for the alarm when a steel band of screaming pain latched on to her wrist.
Her arm was pulled through the slot with such viciousness that it dislocated her shoulder. Adi howled in warning and pain, her voice reverberating in the cloistered space.
No one came.
The wolves fought in the ritual. No werewolf was within range to assist her.
Adriana opened her eyes as tears ran down her face for the first time in her life.
She grimaced and stared into the green eyes of the red wolf.
“Sorry,” he ground out, snagging the code card off her neck with a jerk. It snapped the tether and he stood, pressing the slick thinness of it into the locking mechanism.
The door slid away with a whisper and he stepped through.
He glanced down at the female Were and hesitated... he hated he'd hurt a female. It had been frighteningly easy. And very wrong.
But a female that he knew lay beyond this point.
He turned and followed the scent of fighting, the moon lending her energy to him.
All of it.
It thrummed through his body and made his muscles align for finer dexterity in motion.
Preparing him for fighting.
His form became all wolf seamlessly, a rare transition of speed and smoothness.
He growled low in his throat.
He was ready.
William stepped out of the tree line at the same time a great red werewolf, one that he had never seen in battle or otherwise, appeared at the same time.
They stood opposite each other and their gazes locked for a swollen moment of consideration.
William sprinted to the pavilion at the same time the feral rushed toward the exact point.
Neither noticed the pair of Singers that calmly walked toward the stage.
Where blood ran like a river, dripping down steps that had been white marble but moments before.
Veins that had run grey now ran red.
Crimson with blood.
CHAPTER 25
Two of the werewolves lay dead in a pile of their own gore. Wounds so deep their bodies had been eviscerated while three others circled each other, swiping and surging froward in a dangerous game of avoidance that no one could win.
It wasn't a game, Julia wailed inside her head, feeling shock eat away at the edges of her mind.
Joseph was wounded, Tony more so. The third Were had rolled into a submissive posture when Tony went toward his throat, merciless and opportunistic. He stilled as if halted by an invisible hand and turned as Joseph did. Their noses alerted them to the new danger at hand.
Julia turned to look at what could distract them from the important task of killing each other when the biggest and scariest creature entered the stage, bigger than Tony.
Bigger than life.
Julia gasped and got up from the chair, unsteady from the trauma of the fight. Watching it play out in front of her like a surreal movie had been almost more than she could stand.
But Julia had stood it.
Joseph yelped a plaintive command, “Adi!” Even in his half wolf form, the worry for her was apparent.
Tony spared him a glance as knowledge filled eyes that were only half-wolf. Both Were stood on their hind legs, nearly seven feet. Mirroring the giant red Were that faced them.
Julia skittered behind the tall chair, her hands gripping the back until they turned white and grew numb.
The wolf looked at her and Julia felt something stir deep within her, the fear melting away as they continued to gaze at each other. She was on the edge of an epiphany when the Packmaster yelled, “The feral, I call total rights!”
What? Julia thought, her hands having fallen away from the chair.
She'd actually taken a step toward the great creature, the emerald eyes sucking her in when she heard a voice she knew so well.
“Julia!”
William. Relief poured through her, suffusing her body with renewed energy.
She snapped her head in the direction of that voice, seeking his eyes, reflective silver staring her down.
As she did pandemonium erupted all around her, the melee closing in with the sureness of the cycle of the moon.
*
Singers
Brendan saw the wolves tearing into each other and thought that for all their fierce strength they weren't the brightest bulbs in the shop. He and Jen had waltzed into the pavilion hardly noticed.
Thanks to the rabid Were and the loner vamp.
Interesting combo, those two.
Brendan scented the area, counting what the odds were when he hit on a scent he could not identify. Puzzle pieces of scent recognition sifted through his massive storage banks of finer scents.
Then he knew.
His gaze fell on Julia. Brendan felt like he'd been hit between the eyes with a two by four. All thoughts ground to a screeching halt, sucker-punched.
But he hadn't.
His head swiveled to Jen's. She didn't know.
Brendan said the words, “She's the one.” His hands trembled with the knowledge.
“What?” Jen shrieked over the noise. They didn't have time for his melodramatic crap right now. They needed to get the Singer and get out!
Jen looked into his eyes and grabbed his forearm. A pathway of emotion flowed between them and her eyes widened, her head snapping in the direction of the girl in white.
“No way,” she breathed.
“Way,” Brendan nodded.
“Shit, we needed more back up,” Jen said.
“Yeah,” Brendan agreed. He didn't correct her on her language.
They moved toward Julia, the rarest of them all. The one that was prophesied to lead their people to autonomy and freedom.
The visual of the small girl in white didn't match the version of fairy tales they'd been raised with.
A powerful Singer would be revealed. A woman. Their queen.
Brendan gulped, thinking about how many of the enemy were around them. He would have to bring out the big guns.
Julia took everything in and then her chest tightened and she searched the faces even as wolves circled the great red Were she had been mesmerized by. William came for her as wolves attempted to restrain him. It was impossible, with the distraction of the feral wolf, the vamp and then...
Julia saw the pair. A girl with strawberry blonde hair and freckles and a man with bronze hair and deep brown eyes, dusky skin that was so striking against the deep red of his hair. But it wasn't those things that caused her breath to hitch. She knew what they were instinctively.
Singers.
Like her.
Julia moved toward them. It felt like she was coming home.
William had a moment's regret that he would need to dispatch the pair of Singers, obvious relatives of each other. He stabbed a Were in the middle of its Change and the blood of the fallen made the marble slick at his feet.
He went for the Singers who had almost reached Julia. She moved to meet them.
That would be very unfortunate were they to touch one another.
Julia's eyes widened as she saw William sprint for the backs of the Singers who advanced in her direction, it would be seconds and they would meet her. She called out a warning, loyalties torn. She cared for William but these were her people, she couldn't let William hurt them.
Brendan scented the vamp and turning casually, almost too late, he flung his hand out at the soles of the vampire's feet as he sprinted for them.
His intent was clear. Killing intent.
Fire leaped and drove its heat up the legs of the vamp. That'd get his full attention. Brendan turned dismissively, his eyes already searching for the Singer.
Blood Singer royalty.
That's when the feral Were barreled into him, knocking him off his feet and crashing into one of the marble columns. There was no give to stone, Brendan realized, his bell soundly rung.
He lit this dude up too, with the last of his consciousness.
Nothing happened but he saw the Were fling away, but not before he scented him.
The recognition of what he was causing Brendan to halt in surprise, everything else falling away.
It couldn't be.
But it was.
Jen hollered, “Come on! That's the best I can do... I can't hold that sucker!” She had a hand wrapped on the Singer's wrist, huge amber-colored eyes in a small oval-shaped face stared up at him.
Holy hell, Brendan thought, maybe it's love.
He was drowning in a sea of gold.
&nbs
p; “Snap out of it!” Jen shrieked.
Right.
Brendan saw the vamp on fire and the red Were struggling against ten of his own.
The two wolves who restrained him best were tracking Brendan with their eyes.
Time to shake and bake.
Joseph broke away from the feral and bounded after Julia and the two others of her kind. But he was in full wolf form, his paws slipping on the gore of the marbled surface of the pavilion. He fell twice, then finally gained purchase. He was almost upon them when the other Singer flicked her palm at him and he was thrown backward against one of the pillars of the pavilion. A fissure formed, running from the impact of Joseph's body and climbing to the roof.
Julia ran, the manacle of the girl's hand hurting her wrist. What hurt more was the lone howl from the pavilion.
It made Julia's heart ache. She clenched her eyes tight and felt strong arms come around her, picking her up even as they jogged, the girl's hand releasing her.
She didn't look back. Visions of William on fire and the red Were struggling to get to her kept swirling in her head.
Julia didn't know why it mattered. But it did.
She gazed up into the face of the person who held her, seeing only a strong jaw and eyes trained straight ahead. She felt the heat rise from her toes and let it overwhelm her, consciousness slipping away like a leaf on the wind.
Brendan felt the Singer's weight change as it went from live to dead weight and grunted with the stress as he jogged. He was profoundly strong, as all post-puberty Singers were. But an almost full run with dead weight? Challenging-much.
“Don't fuss, brother,” Jen said, sprinting with him to keep up, a smile locked into place. “Besides, we've got company.”
Jen said it like there were some flies that needed swatting instead of fifteen Were chasing after them.
The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) Page 19