by Bella Jacobs
Or on the Most Wanted list for tying up a couple cops and leaving them to stew in our van while we went off to save the world.
“You’ll snap back fast.” Luke pulls on a thin, long-sleeved black shirt over his armor, which makes him blend even deeper into the night woods. “Getting back in shape is easier than getting in shape for the first time.”
“Or you could just shift yourself a set of muscles,” Cree says from his place crouched over the artillery, his cat eyes flashing yellow then silver in the darkness.
“Not the same thing,” I say, ears pricking at a sound in the near distance.
“The waves on the lake,” Kite says, reading me even better than he used to. If I harbored any hope of being able to hide things from my empath mate, they vanished last night, sometime around orgasm three or four. “The wind is picking up, but we’ll be downwind from whatever’s inside.”
“Any read on the portal’s location yet?” Dust asks, passing an obscenely large weapon over to Luke.
I nod, flexing my fingers open and closed as I shift from one foot to the other, getting my blood flowing through every nook and cranny and pulsing closer to the surface of my skin. “It’s near the water, no more than half a mile. I’ll be able to find it once we’re closer.”
I may not have been through this particular portal before, but the world on the other side belongs to me. It’s a part of who I am, lost to me for a long time, but, like the memories of my mother and father, no less mine because of it.
“Watch your feet, Wolf Boy,” Creedence says, followed by a curse from Luke.
“I can’t see shit out here,” Luke mutters. “One of you might have to hold my hand if it's still dark on the way out. Once my eyes get used to the light inside, I’ll really be useless.”
“Oh, pick me,” Creedence says. “I’ll do a partial shift and you can hold onto my tail. It’ll be fun.”
“Your tail is shorter than my thumb,” Luke observes dryly. “But thanks.”
Cree chuckles. “You’re welcome.”
“But it’s good luck, the dark moon,” Kite says, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky. “Or at least my mom always said so.”
“Then it must be true.” I slip my hand into Kite’s, but I don’t look up to the stars. I look only as far as his strong profile, that sharp nose and stubborn chin, just visible in the darkness. He’s my light. They all are.
I just hope all four of them are still burning bright come morning.
With one last silent prayer for a miracle, I point toward the water. “There. Straight through that gap in the trees. I can feel it better now.”
“Lead on, Bird Girl. We’ve got your back.” Kite squeezes my hand as Cree falls into place on my other side, with Dust and Kite following close behind. And for a moment I’m outside myself, watching our five silhouettes start through the woods, sleek and silent in the gathering night, feeling like I’m back in the story Dust shared with me that first day together at the farmhouse, back when Luke was still locked up in the basement and Creedence was a stranger and the thought of myself as a hero was laughably absurd.
But here I am, stronger than that version of myself could have imagined, not just in body or in magic, but in spirit, too.
As a girl, I imagined love as a soft, dreamy force that wrapped you up in sweet vibes and made you feel safe and cozy all over. And it is like that, sometimes. But it’s also as fierce as a mother lion defending her young, all claws and teeth and fearless, shameless, all-consuming devotion.
I will do anything for these men, and heaven help anyone who tries to hurt them.
I start through the trees, heading for the end. For Atlas.
Chapter 33
Wren
The closer we get to the portal, the more it catches at me, calling me, hooking into my ribs and dragging me down the hill, over fallen trees some industrious beaver has dragged on shore, near the water’s edge.
And then suddenly, I’m there.
Here.
To the place where it will all begin.
“You can’t be serious,” Creedence whispers.
“I am.” I lean over, staring into an antique bathtub half buried in the dirt by my feet. “It’s through here.”
“Why a bathtub?” Kite asks, distrust in his tone.
“Better than a toilet,” Luke observes, making Cree snort.
“Or a coffin,” Dust says. “My parents buried a line of coffins by the river near one of the entrances to Meadwood. Excellent for keeping humans away from that neck of the woods. They hung doll heads from the trees near another one. Also effective.”
I shiver. “I imagine.” I circle around the basin, keeping my jaw relaxed and my fingers wiggling gently, trying to pick up on any funky energy. “But I don’t think the bathtub has any meaning , at least that I can tell. And this portal isn’t used as much as the ones inside the castle.” I shake my head, propping my hands on my waist. “If I really saw those. If it wasn’t all a dream and we’re not heading into his world thinking we know things when we really know a whole lot of jack.”
Kite’s hands rest on my shoulders, sending a wave of calm through me from head to toe and back again. “Either way, we’ve got this. Just stay in the moment and take it one step at a time.”
I nod, fingers curling into fists as I scan the circle of barely-visible faces around me. “All right. I’m going. I’ll send a signal as soon as I’m inside, to make sure we still have contact. I’ll only signal again when and if it’s safe for you to follow.”
A part of me wants to ask for one last hug from each of them, one more stolen moment to hold them close and thank them for all they’ve given me, but the night isn’t getting any younger, and we agreed not to say any goodbyes.
Instead, I step forward, whisper, “Love you, see you soon,” and jump.
And then I fall and fall until I finally hit bottom with a soft oomph as I drop into a squat on the floor.
My fingertips dig into the cool gravel beneath my feet as I scan my surroundings. I’m back in the tunnels, but deeper than I was before. I send a soft pulse down our mate line of connection—I’m here—and continue to look around.
There is no light in either direction, no sign of life from the castle overhead. It is quiet and, except for the faint blue glow from the lights tucked into the rocky ceiling, dark. There are no guards in the tunnel leading uphill ahead of me, and none in the larger open space behind.
I spin slowly on the balls of my feet, staying low to the ground. There’s no cover here, nothing to seek shelter behind should I hear someone coming. It’s safer to stay small, a tiny ball of a target, until I’m absolutely sure that I…
My thoughts trail off as my eyes adjust to the gloom and I make out the bars against the far wall. There are rows and rows of them, set into at least a dozen wide gates.
Within, something softly stirs.
Checking the tunnel in both directions again, I rise quietly to my feet and pad closer, eyes narrowed as I search the darkness behind the gates. I’m still fifty feet away, maybe more, when something heavy strikes the bars—hard.
I jump, barely stifling the cry clawing its way up my throat.
My gaze darts to the right in time to see a horn jab between the bars as the creature it belongs to slams its skull into the gate from the other side with a low snort. Immediately, I flip the switch inside me, setting the shift I’ve practiced a hundred times today rippling into motion. By the time I cross to stand in front of the creature, I’m wearing Atlas’s face, his skin, even his smell, but my heart is still pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to crack a rib.
Will my disguise fool this monster? Does this thing even have the cognitive function to tell friend from foe?
Fighting to keep the horror from my face, I take in the rotted flesh on the animal’s muzzle, the dull green glow in its flat eyes, and the thick black veins swollen beneath its once white coat.
I don’t know much about unicorns—if they’re even
real or if these creatures are something Atlas had Dr. Highborn whip up in a lab for him before he drove the other man to take his own life—but I know this is an abomination. He’s taken something magical and innocent, a creature that should be sparkling on a kid-size T-shirt with glitter in its tail, and twisted it into something hideous, repellent.
And dangerous.
The rotted, dead-but-not-dead unicorn lunges for me, snapping black teeth as it jabs a now-glowing green horn at my heart. Whether I’m failing at my Atlas impression or zombie unicorns just don’t give a shit who their master is, I have no idea, but I know I don’t want any of these beasties getting out.
Even one would be hard to handle, let alone…
Glancing left then right, I do some silent calculations and come up with way too many creepy things for comfort. There have to be at least a hundred of them, maybe more. And as far as I can see, there aren’t any locks on the gates. They’re latched shut, but not secured, which means if enough of them strained to get out at the same time, they could probably make it happen.
Before I call my mates down—adding more unfamiliar smells to the unicorn’s lair—I need to neutralize the threat.
I bring my hands together, building a ball of flame between them as I move to the right side of the gate. I will the fire to burn hotter, knowing I might only have a few seconds to melt the latch before one of the monsters inside goes after me with his horn. But it’s worth the risk. If I fuse the hook and latch together in one big lump of metal, the gates should hold.
As my flame burns from orange to blue, I ease closer to the gate and the unicorn shoving his head against the bars begins to laugh.
I freeze, blood going cold as its lips peel away from its teeth and its eyes open wide, wider, until two hideous baseball-sized orbs are glowing into mine as chunks of flesh fall from its throat, its neck, its face.
My stomach turns so sharply it takes my breath away, and my fireball flickers out, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late to melt the latch, and no bars could hold this monster, anyway.
I stumble backward as Atlas oozes through the bars in a puddle of half-disintegrated unicorn flesh and reconstitutes on my side of the gate wearing a different disguise.
My eyes flick down and up, from his black boots to his flared hips and the wild hair pulled back into a messy ponytail at the back of his head, and I arch a brow. “The hair’s too long. And I wear a size ten. Those little feet are way too precious.”
A smile curves lips that I have to admit are a perfect replica of mine, and Atlas extends the ends of his boots and trims a few inches off the ponytail. “Better?”
“Not even a little bit. You can drop it. You’re not going to fool any of them, not for a second,” I say, praying I’m right and that our circle is stronger than Atlas’s illusion.
“Come with me, Wren,” he says in my voice. “It’s not too late. You haven’t done anything with those boys that can’t be undone, and then we can join together to put an end to all the suffering. Theirs included.”
I shake my head, taking another step away as he steps forward. “They aren’t suffering.”
He bares his teeth, transforming my face into something terrifying. “Oh, but they will be.”
“Threaten them all you want. Capture them, torture them, even kill them, it won’t make a difference. I will never belong to you.”
His smile spreads wider. “But what if I don’t allow them to die? What then?”
My eyes flick toward the unicorns against my will before snapping back to Atlas-wearing-my-face, and the ground seems to tilt under my feet.
“Will you be so brave when you doom your loves to an eternity as flesh-eating monsters?” Atlas confirms my suspicions, glee in his voice. “That’s one thing the movies got wrong, darling. You can’t kill the undead. Ever. Unlike diamonds, zombies truly are forever.” He laughs—my laugh, high and floaty. “Besides, I have plans for us. A getaway to a place where you won’t have to try so hard to be tough and all these big decisions will be easier. Life or death is so much simpler, don’t you think?”
Before I can respond—or shift back into my own body—he shoots across the space between us, slamming into me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs as we go soaring through the air.
I have time to realize the impact with the ground is going to hurt like hell and then I’m crashing into the dirt, skidding across the gravel as Atlas raises a fist and slams it into the side of my face.
White light explodes behind my eyes while behind their gates, the zombie unicorns begin to scream.
Chapter 34
Creedence
The vision hits like the one in the store, a stomach punch with no time to prepare for impact.
Stifling the groan crawling up my throat, I fall to my knees in the soft earth beside the portal, hands flying to clutch my head. The future is flooding through me so fast it feels like the damned thing is going to spin off.
I see Wren and Atlas. Atlas and Wren, a dance…
No, a fight. A fight somewhere far away, where she doesn’t have a chance of winning. It’s another planet, one that sustains life—at least for a little while—but not magic. If he takes her there, they’ll be just a woman and a man—a girl who weighs barely a buck twenty-five and a barrel-chested asshole with enough strength to do what he pleases with a slip of thing like her. She’ll be too weak to fight him off.
If he succeeds, if he and his monsters drive her to that galaxy far away, we’ll never see her again.
We have to go. Now. Fuck waiting for the signal.
I come back to the present with my blood rushing hot. I surge to my feet to find the others already arming their weapons and Dust stripping off his shirt in preparation for a shift.
“We saw,” Kite says, nodding over his shoulder. “You come in last. Luke and I are going in first to lay down fire, then Dust, ready to go griffin, then you. Get to Wren if you can, and get her out. We’ll meet up at the rendezvous point later.”
I stagger to one side, willing the last of the dizziness away with a curse. Kite is just trying to give me some time to pull my shit together, but I don’t want to be the last one in. I want to be down there with Wren. Now. Ten minutes ago. Atlas is going to force her to run with those things…
Whatever the hell those things were.
In the thick of the vision, I was so focused on Wren that the rest of the picture was fuzzy around the edges. There was a menacing presence, something controlled by Atlas that he would use to drive her through a portal and off planet, but my vision brain didn’t know what to make of them.
They weren’t horses exactly, but they weren’t purely monsters, either.
Thoughts racing, I watch Kite jump into the bathtub and disappear, followed by Luke. Dust grips my hand, giving it a tight squeeze—“If you’re too wiped to fight, stay here. I’ll get her out.”—and then he’s gone, too.
“Fuck that,” I mutter, my voice gravelly. “Like I’m going to let you assholes have all the fun.”
Hands curled into fists and spine electrified with pre-fight adrenaline, I jump. The fall takes forever and no time at all, space-time shrinking and stretching the way it does in the passageways between worlds. And then suddenly I’m spit out into the middle of our plan gone to shit.
I’m in an underground tunnel, dark and cavernous, echoing with screams. The walls vibrate, and my ears ring as the pounding of an approaching army draws closer, their steps so heavy the ground trembles and shakes.
I catch a flash of green light to my left and then, to the right, a glow like the northern lights flashes beneath the hooves of the monsters thrashing in their stalls along the wall.
The pounding isn’t from the boots of soldiers. It’s hooves. And those are unicorns, just like in the fairy stories but also…nothing like that at all. They’re dead, I realize, rotting inside their own skin, animated by whatever sick magic Atlas has worked to keep them moving, churning, fighting.
Feeding…
&n
bsp; I take in the bloodshot eyes, the green glow of their hooves, the sagging flesh and the bone exposed through the skin on the sicker beasts, but I don’t connect the dots until the gates fly open all at once and the monsters let out a screaming groan of hunger so ravenous it makes my soul ache.
Zombies.
The sick fuck has made himself a batch of zombie unicorns. And apparently, they’re just as keen for brains as the human kind.
Except that they weigh over a thousand pounds and have razor-sharp hooves and an enchanted horn capable of shattering any weapon forged by man.
“Run!” I shout, hauling ass past Dust, who is still in human form since this passage it too cramped for a griffin of his size. He’s pulling knives from sheaths strapped to his thighs, not yet realizing that he’s brought steel to a unicorn-horn party. Even enchanted fairy steel isn’t going to stand a chance against the herd surging toward us, and even if it would, we’re too outnumbered to stand and fight.
Running—somewhere other than down that hallway to the right, the one that leads off planet and to certain doom—is our only chance.
I grab Dust’s arm, and instantly he breaks into a sprint beside me. Sharp relief flashes through me. I can’t say I’m a fan of knowing when this man is getting a hard-on for the woman we love, but right now the mind reading is really paying off.
And if we live long enough, maybe I can figure out how to block the other stuff.
But really, that’s a worry for another day, when we’re all not about to die.
I slap Kite on my way by and scream, “Run. Follow me. Lay down cover,” to Luke, who thankfully doesn’t put up a fight, either, though he likely has no idea what’s going on.
Oh, to be vision-blind. Sounds kind of incredible right now, as hundreds of premonitions flash through my head, too fast for me to hold onto any of them.
I don’t try. There are times when it’s too late for visions to do any good, times when you have to pick a path, and run like hell.