“Don't even try it. Julia is mine now. The sooner you get that, the better off you'll be. 'Cuz there's only one other result, wolf.”
“Yeah? Because in my book she's still married to me,” Jason said in a voice filled with certainty, ownership.
Scott bristled and the Combatant responded to their new King's emotional signature, stiffening in preparation.
For whatever may occur.
Scott got nose to nose with Jason, their precious cargo the only barrier between them and Jason got a lungful of Julia's fragrance and his soul cried out as his anger flared to life more strongly than ever. The male in front of him was the ignition to the fire of his emotions as a match was to timber.
“Not anymore, pal. Man-up. You're in the supernatural world now. We don't play human. Get. Over. It.”
Their eyes locked for a moment more then Scott moved away, the cascade of Julia's golden hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum out of rhythm.
Jason smiled. Supernaturals, huh? Well, the Singer had played that all wrong. It was the first rule of male anything. Don't drop your eyes from your opponent.
First.
Jason had not. And in his new world, that meant he was first.
First in battle.
First in rights.
Julia would be his. Soulmate or not.
Jason could play supernatural. Hell yeah he could.
CHAPTER 22
William
William felt the eyes of his liege on him and smiled. All hope was not lost. Even as he thought it he felt more of the Were approach to add numbers to those that were in attendance at present.
His eyes easily found Julia as she was carried off by the male Singer and he gave a telepathic order that was simple: Follow them.
And with that, the ten vampire who had belonged to Merlin, slid through the seams of the night, following the one who would change their lives. Bringing sunlight to darkness. A living sun to vampire.
Liberty for the Were.
Peace for Blood Singers.
Julia lay sleeping in the arms of the man that was meant for her as enemies closed in from all sides and dreamed about her future with the one male that truly protected her.
Yet, she did not know it.
Julia slept in her soulmate's arms and dreamed.
Her dreams were not of peace but of war.
EPILOGUE
Cyn & Adi
Cynthia groaned and rolled over, her stomach coming up through her throat in a acidic firehose of whatever she ate last. She emptied the entire thing on the dampened moss that had been her pillow moments before. When her vision cleared she took the time to open her eyes and look around. She went to move and her arms were tethered behind her back, shoulders numb to the wrist.
That was an alarm clock that the puking hadn't been.
Gawd, Cynthia thought, that freak wolf, the pig of a guy, had cold cocked her and here she was.
No Jules, no escape, just his dumb ass as company.
Cynthia should have been terrified. Yet, she wasn't, she was done. The long battle to escape, buy freedom and safety and eventually find Jules had been for nothing.
Instead, she found herself trussed up like a turkey for Thanksgiving.
When her eyes landed on Adrianna a spark of hope ignited. That was beyond awesome, maybe between their smart asses they could figure a way out.
Adi had a similar reaction but kept her lunch down with a swallowing effort that was as effective as it was gross. Her dirty blond hair hung in lank strips, her clothes covered with dirt.
Cynthia glared when she saw the smaller girl's lips had been cut by Tony's hand.
Tony came through the trees and saw the girls rousing from the hurt he'd put on them.
There was more where that came from, he thought.
Cynthia saw Tony slide through the trees, so comfortable with the surroundings her stomach fell. He was a huge guy, six-three at least, his muscles constituting their own damn zip code.
Cynthia didn't have the problems of denial that Jules had. She instinctively used the gift that Jules had given her in return when they'd come together just hours ago.
She healed herself.
Then before Tony could get to Adi, Cynthia reached out and grasped Adi's ankle with one of her long ass lanky arms.
Cynthia had never been so glad about her stature as she reversed the damage that had been vested against Adi.
Tony was incensed when the blonde Singer bitch tried to help out a female Were that needed a goddamned attitude adjustment.
In fact, he was just the Were to do it. He was no stranger to giving females what they needed to keep them in line. His thoughts touched on that sweet piece of ass he'd had when he was barely out of whelphood.
What had her name been? Tony wondered, remembering as he rushed toward the bound women.
Oh yeah, Lacey.
Tony smiled at the memory, she'd been a fighter, that one.
Adi's eyes widened as Tony's fist crashed into her temple and Cynthia, who still held fast to her ankle, puked out blood as the wound disappeared from Adi's head.
Cynthia was absorbing the injury as he caused it.
Tony couldn't have that.
“Heal this, bitch!” Tony said, giving her a brutal punch in the gut as he tore the clothes from Adi's body.
She couldn't help it, she Changed, her wolf in a panic to get away from another Were with intent to harm her. It was immediate, instinctual.
Desperate.
Adi tore the bindings from the tree, shaking the leaves from the branches as they landed like green rain on Tony as he tried to subdue Adi with the age-old trick.
Violence.
Cynthia could not stand by while this insane dickhead raped Adi. She swung her leg up and in a lucky strike that should have never found purchase, she did. The heel of her sneaker struck him in the temple as he fumbled with his own clothing, not in the least deterred by the half-formed wolf Adi had become.
Her talons, small and deadly, sprung from her fingertips and she stabbed him high and deep in his ribs.
“Let me go!” Adi said, the sound of her voice like pebbles of stone rubbing together.
Cynthia did, the healing touch unable to transfer to Tony. Adi heaved him off and tore Cynthia's bindings.
Cynthia took a step back, looking up at a girl that was now standing at just over six foot of light gray muscle and teeth.
“Shake it off, Cyn! Let's go... can ya run?” Adi asked her and Cyn stood there in semi-shock. Adi's face scrunched up, her delicate snout rippling with the movement and Cyn burst out laughing as Tony flipped over on his back, groaning.
Healing.
Adrianna turned, landing a rib-shattering kick on top of the stabbing wound.
Tony howled and Adi grabbed Cynthia. “We've go to go, this turd will wake up... and then we're in deep shit!”
Adi got down on her hands and knees like a small horse and yelled at Cynthia, “Get on! Hang on to my fur...”
This is weird as hell, Cynthia thought, leaping unsteadily onto the back of Adi.
The weregirl.
Cyn gave a giggle and realized that hysteria was the next step and clamped her damn mouth shut. She had to survive this effing mess. She pressed her face against her friend's neck and Adi leaped, running. Fueled by fear, propelled by the healing energy that Cynthia had fed her.
They ran into the deepest part of the woods.
As Tony woke he staggered to his feet, whipping his face around.
Dammit! He screamed silently, his side a throbbing nightmare. He would need to hunt. Unlike that bitch Singer, he couldn't heal shit without meat.
And blood.
He would hunt.
Then Tony would find those female dogs and cut them down. Using methods unique to him.
He smiled as he scented the wind for what would give him energy.
*
Jacqueline
Jacqueline smiled, she'd found a wonderful old homestead, falling
apart but with an adequate roof and plopped down onto a dusty mattress that was not to her liking but would do until she was able to procure more suitable accommodations.
With a flick of her graceful fingers she began a fire from nothing in the deep masonry fireplace that was centrally located in the cabin, enjoying the heat made by her abilities.
Which were many.
The Region One Singers had been foolish to dismiss her so readily. After all, she had enough royal blood to be something to reckon with on her very own.
If things had gone her way just to the smallest degree, Julia Caldwell would have been unable to Awaken before the killing dust could be laid. She would have expired, as planned, and the Combatant and all of the Regions would have been under her power. Now, Julia was in a cocoon of security laid by blood magic that even Jacqueline, with all her scheming could not undo.
However, there might be one little loophole that she could yank that would upset that delicate balance before it was fully realized.
If she could but stop the mating of her biological son and Julia, if she could halt the inevitable, then the mating of their souls would not occur, but remain unfinished.
They needed to meld body and soul.
Jacqueline knew that the consummation of their union had not yet taken place, the soul almost always melded first, then the body followed.
There was the slimmest margin of opportunity for usurpation remaining.
What to do in the ninth hour when her most trusted advisor was now in the protective grips as a Combatant? Jacqueline tapped her fingers against the dusty metal-like cage that held the mattress.
When the crashing of bodies moved through the forest Jacqueline commanded the door of the old cabin to open, the hinges squeaking in violent protest to the slamming of the wood against them.
Jacqueline saw the new Singer upon the back of the Were, her pale blond hair a horizontal flag behind her, the color standing out like a beacon against the earthen tones of the forest.
She rolled a fallen long in the path of the graceful she-wolf, nothing more than a streak of silver and at the last moment it glanced at Jacqueline, giving her eyes that were somehow like the Queen's, gold fire.
Then Adi rolled into a broken heap of pewter fur, landing with a hard thump against a trunk of a old growth fir, its sentinel gaze having seen centuries of creatures, this one no different.
Cynthia was held in the protective arms of Adi even as she hit the tree and was flung to the side.
She sobbed, crawling over to the wounded Were who had become her friend, her lungs crushed, ribs broken.
Cynthia reached out and gave her what she had.
And found her energy had dried up. Cynthia snapped her head up, looking around and found dark eyes on her face, a hand straight out and pointed at herself.
What bitch was this? Cynthia thought.
Jacqueline smiled as she smoothly Deflected the Healer's ability with the she-wolf.
It was not only the gift of her beauty that she had given Scott, but his Deflector ability as well.
She used the secondary ability now, trying to contain the Healer's raw skill. New and untrained, wild like a river running without a course.
Cynthia turned when she heard what approached from behind their position.
Tony bounded through the low brush, circumnavigating the fallen trees with ease.
Jacqueline saw him come and stopped him with a flick of her hand, her primary ability more powerful than almost all Singers.
She used that telekinetic discharge with precision and expertise, arresting his forward motion easily.
“Well, well...” Jacqueline said, shifting her gaze from the blonde Singer struggling to heal the grievous injuries Jacqueline had caused to the Were before finally appraising the huge male Were.
This was most excellent, Jacqueline thought in excitement. Look at how the pawns on her chessboard had arrived.
She was ready to play.
The time was now.
*
Slash
Slash broke the spell cast by the Rare One, shaking it off with difficulty. He had a job to do and just because she had Awoken, found her blood... whatever, didn't affect his mission.
He was to guard Cynthia Adams. It had been a directive from the First of his Packmaster.
Slash didn't get distracted by females. In fact, as unions between packs were not allowed, the one female that he wanted was untouchable anyway.
Adrianna could never be his.
He had watched her from afar since she was a whelpling, assured of her protection in part because of her brother, Joseph. But now that he'd died (under mysterious circumstances in Slash's opinion) she was vulnerable. Very. An alpha female Were was highly sought after. Fought over.
Slash knew that he'd have to suffer as one claimed her. And it wouldn't be him, that was for damn sure.
He looked around casually for the Singer, scoping for her, unconsciously looking for the pale hair. It was generally easy if he let his eyes bleed to wolf. Which he did. It would show as the palest grey, almost white to his limited spectrum of colors.
A slow panic formed as he saw no hair that came close to that almost platinum color she held.
What deepened his disquiet to a true panic was Adi being gone as well.
He began to run, dropping his clothes as he went when he noticed the one Were missing that caused his chest to constrict painfully.
Anthony Laurent was MIA.
That could mean one thing and one thing only. He was making some fucking power play. Like he had once before.
With Lacey Greene.
Slash gave a low growl as he burst his skin and became fully wolf. No half-wolf for him. He needed the moon to guide him as the night gave way to day. Finding his ward was critical.
Finding Adi would ease his heart.
If that pervert Were harmed a hair on her coat he'd kill him.
Slow, like Slash liked. Torture a familiar pastime to those who deserved it.
He came by his nickname honestly. So many thought it was because of his face.
Some knew it was his skill.
He ran toward the scent of the women, Adi's fear filling his sensitive nostrils, his wolf's spirit cringing in natural response to a female Were in peril.
He became a streak of deep chestnut, his coat having a vague red hue as the early dawn speared the forest. A streak of his red lineage calling for vengeance.
The Red Wolves were the natural warriors of the Were.
It only took a drop or two to tilt the scales in his favor.
*
Were
Lawrence stopped suddenly, a spray of dirt spreading around the claws of his feet, his chest heaving.
“What is that?” he growled.
Alan lifted his nose. “Singer... Were.”
Lawrence shifted his golden gaze to the First of another. “Which Were?”
“I don't know,” Alan said back. “One female... ah, maybe two males.”
“A female? One of ours?” Lawrence asked, eyebrows gone in his partially turned face, his snout bunching in a look of consternation.
Alan nodded once, his snout going in the direction of the former cop.
He lifted his snout at him in question and the Red wolf that had been human a few hours before growled then responded, knowing that the three would gang up on him.
That was the new order, Truman realized, all reason set aside for kicking each other's asses.
Interestingly enough, he was down with that. God knew, he'd had to hold back a temperament that was ill-suited in some respects for leading the life of cop.
When these wackjobs had changed him forever he'd felt like he was coming home.
Karl Truman also found how much he detested being told what to do.
But now a scent filled his nose that he knew.
He'd been scenting it for months.
“Cynthia Adams is the Singer,” he said in a voice that sounded so deep it was a low roar of
gravel to the others. Recognizable but unique. Primitive.
Lawrence's wolf eyes became slits. “You know this how?”
“Remember, he was after her?” Alan asked.
Lawrence gave a sharp bark of acknowledgment.
“Alright, so we have the Singer we're after and a female Were and two other males.” Lawrence looked at the other males for confirmation.
“Cynthia Adams is there,” Truman said, pointing a muscular arm covered in a light coating of red fur in the direction Alan had just scented.
Alan gave a mighty shrug, his coat undulating with the movement. “They are there.”
“It must be Adrianna,” Lawrence guessed, an unguarded female Were nearly out of the question in the woods.
The two wolves became troubled by the implications.
Truman interrupted, begging for reprimand and not giving a tin shit, “So what? What's the big damn deal?”
Lawrence was just suddenly there. “My first is unpredictable. A thing of beauty in battle, a problem with... certain circumstances.”
Karl Truman's excellent mind spun with thoughts, slowly putting together what the leader had said. Finally, unbelievably, he touched upon it. “Don't tell me that Anthony Laurent is out there, with one of your females?” He stepped closer to the pair of Weres, looking from one to the other. “That Cynthia Adams is near that... goddamned rapist?”
Alan flinched and Truman caught it. He growled.
Damn, he was loving this wolf thing. Karl felt like a new man. Or whatever the hell he was now.
“Slash is guarding Cynthia,” Alan said defensively and Karl laughed. It came out sounding like a harsh cough out of his changed body.
The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) Page 48