Lycan Alpha Claim 3 (30 page)

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.

“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.

And gaining.

Brendan redoubled his efforts, sprinting. His lungs were a burning inferno, begging him to stop. But this was where it counted. This is what he'd trained for, he wasn't going to give back this precious cargo. She was the final hope for his people.

The brush crashed behind them as they reached their transport. The night's coolness had moved in and he could scent the exhaust that plumed into the air like a spiral of smoke before he saw it. Brendan instantly identified it as theirs.

The door was already flung open, Michael screamed, “They're up  your ass!”

Thanks for the clue, braniac!
Brendan thought.

He reached the open door, slid open to accommodate the Singer, shoved her into waiting arms and turned, a downward arc of talons making a breeze next to his face.

Hell! That was close. There was no fighting at close range unless Brendan had the element of surprise.

He didn't. That was long-gone. A big monster was coming for him now, half-wolf form, all the dexterity of full human shape, but the strength and speed of pure wolf form.

He was up shit creek, then Jen was there. Her face was a sweaty mask as her palm was straight out in front of her body, her arm plank-stiff.

She held back the first siege of the Were by her will alone. Her body trembled with the effort, sweat gliding down her neck and soaking her shirt.

“How long?” Brendan shouted beside her, trying to light as many on fire as he could. They all got nailed at the feet. It was a temporary measure at best, he was a Tracker, not a Pyro. The secondary ability was awesome sometimes. For deflection.

Like now, when they needed a mondo distraction.

“Get in!” she hissed.

Okay, hell... so touchy.

He saw around ten more burst out of the woods. As he got in he grabbed Jen around the waist and hauled her against him, slamming the door closed. He banged on the drivers seat, “Go!”

Rafael floored it even as the van rocked with the first Were hitting the side with enough force to partially lift the wheels off the trail.

Shit! He looked down at Jen, swiping hair away from her temple. She was totally spent.

“Can she?” Michael asked, an unconscious Singer in his lap.

“Nah!” Brendan shouted over the gnashing of teeth and talons on the exterior of the van, nails on a chalkboard of metal. “She's totally gassed!”

“Dammit!” Michael laid the Singer on the blanket at his feet and got busy. Throwing himself in the front seat his face mired in concentration... and ten vamps appeared in front of the van.

Rafael had laid on the gas but the wheels were spinning without purchase. The Were crawling over it like their own anthill. He hissed in a breath, “What the hell?”

“It's okay, it's me,” Michael said. “Just drive!”

Rafael did, even as the Were slid off the van to deal with the perceived threat of their primary enemy.

The Were attacked the vamps even as the van slid through them like ghosts. Because that's what they were. Michael had executed his tactical advantage to perfection.

He was one of their best Illusionists.

The van screamed out of the Were stronghold, spinning up dirt as it roared off. The four Singers and their treasure, barely hanging on to tenuous liberty.