Enslaved in Shadows (29 page)

             
He should thank the bastard for the curse. It had evolved over the years.
He wasn’t a shifter but a true Lycan.
His race was feared above all shifters and most immortals. There was nothing but the Gods themselves that could put a hurt on him and as they had been silent for over a millennia, well that just said it all.

             
There was a concentrated patch of red straight ahead. It meant they’d stopped there for a moment, why he didn’t care. His job was to see his cub found and extracted from the mortals who would dare to take her.
Who would even think to drain Faith? She was of his blood, his line, she wasn’t a
half-breed
as Royce suspected. She was a
full-blooded
Canidae. His genes trumped her mother’s mortal ones.

             
Fate had a funny way of picking your mate, but it was of no concern to him now.
Humans were the roaches of the earth, overpopulating the world, clouding it with its filth. His grandfather had once spoken of a time when the earth was not so dirty, not so clouded by modern things.
Draven’s people had ached for such a time to return. Knew once the land had its share of abuse, it would cleanse itself of its dirty inhabitants.
He’d strayed from his people’s law, by taking up in the mortal world. For a time he was shunned because of it.
His father would see his ways were not erroneous, but calculated. He’d integrated himself into modern society for a purpose.
Did he mean to make friends along the way? No. But that couldn’t be helped, friends were allies, and allies were needed to fight this current path he was set on.

             
His legs carried him further and faster as the trail became lit with dark reds, and bright oranges.
He was getting close.
They were going down this concrete path in the metal contraption, and it seemed they’d pulled off the road.
Did they know he was coming for them? He hoped not because he had plans. Rip into their chest and devour their hearts while they were still beating.
The thought alone had him salivating in anticipation for what was to come. He liked his meat raw.

             
Death in all forms was music to his ears.
His breathing didn’t labor as he dug deep into the pavement. His effort at finding the spot where the contraption stopped for the evening ended with result.
There was a slight curve to the beaten path and if an untrained eye wasn’t searching for it, they would have continued forward, but not the wolf. He could see the heat signatures as they trailed off and down to what looked like a small cottage.
There was smoke piping out of the brick structure. A snap of twig in the brush behind him and the wolf turned pouncing on the intruder with a fierce growl.

             
“Fuck man; get your big ass paw off my throat.
It’s us, fool.”
Royce choked out.

             
The wolf was reluctant to let the man up. His interest was on the occupants of the house not the group of the noisy herd behind him.

             
Calmly the wolf released the animal called Royce. He wasn’t going to change back to his pitiful human form.
The beast and man were both on board with that plan.
This wasn’t the time for waiting or for someone to come up with what humans called a plan.
This was much more than that. This was a personal attack on him and his skills to protect what was his. One of the most sacred laws of his kind was to protect their own.
Draven’s wolf didn’t feel he’d done that law any fucking justice at all. But now he had his chance to redeem himself.
Redemption was coming and it was in the form of his massive jaws and canines as they struck his opponents.
He was going to kill the humans. Fuck them up beyond all recognition and piss on their insides.

             
Draven’s wolf let out a fierce growl and pounced out of the woods and headed straight toward the cottage.
He knew the others who were led by Royce were following closely behind. He had to give them credit. They had fierce determination, and it wasn’t often he ran into a male with sure steady courage.
Royce wasn’t a shifter, he was something
more,
and Draven’s wolf had to give deference to that as well. The wolf knew a lot of things; more
than
he sometimes let on.
But he’d saved his mate. Royce could live, today.
He would respect him.
Man and beast coexisting in the same form. Royce’s plans aligned with his.
They didn’t really have one, but who gives a fuck what the outcome is as long as they survive and they were the victor. That in and of itself was a bona fide plan.

             
The branches were silent under his paws as he pounded towards the cottage. The forest knew to be silent beneath his feet.
The others behind him weren’t so lucky. Their feet made too much noise and the wolf in him couldn’t take their ignorance any longer. With a quick jerk of his
body,
he was facing the followers growling a warning for them to stop.

             
“He doesn’t want us to go any further; he says we are too noisy.” Royce answered so the pathetic excuse for immortals and his mate would understand why he was so angry.
His cub was there, waiting for him. He could smell her fear but underneath that fear was her determination.
His cub knew she would be rescued her resolve solidified. It was a strong sting in his nose that brought him comfort.

             
“Fuck, him.” Said the tall dark male Draven’s wolf vaguely remembered as Dietrich. If the two-legged mammal didn’t shut his
jaws,
Draven had no problem helping him.
He took a step closer to the man and got up in his face with his snout.
He sniffed him out and what came back was pure hatred.
So the other man didn’t like him.
Too fucking bad.
His human side responded. He didn’t give two shits about him either.
Draven’s claws were coming down into the man’s shoulder but Dietrich had something metal pressed under his neck the wolf hadn’t sensed.
The metal wouldn’t stop him, but it could cause issues later on.

             
“Fucking try it wolf. I’d be more than happy to take on the responsibility of stepfather and husband to Miss Sexy over there,” his head nodded in the direction of his mate who sniffed disdainfully at the air.
If he could smile right
now,
he would.
Instead,
he turned from the other male and growled one more warning before he took off into the dark.

             
The lights on the cottage suddenly went dark. There was no way they could smell him or sense him, but the lights had gone out.
If they wanted to play hide and seek then he would flush them out.
Draven sent up a fierce howl.
The trees swayed at his baying, the air grew chilly.
He shifted into half were
half-human
and crept along the edge of the drive sliding in and out of shadows. He could hear the beating of two hearts, where was the third human? Something snuck up behind him with a predator’s grace. He wasted no time as he spun around thrusting his clawed hand into the warm flesh. His hand came through on the other side. The air chilled the warmth of blood that dripped from his hand. The face of his attacker was one he did not expect to see. One he knew, one he would have never thought to be in a place mixed up with the kind of humans who lurked inside the cottage trying to hurt his cub.

* * * *

             
Jesminda gasped when she’d seen Oliver come up behind Draven as he’d snuck around the side of the house.
Bells gripped her arm holding her back.
She knew her actions were not thought out, but what did he expect her to do?
Her baby was in that house. Faith could be hurt, or worse.
But she never expected to see Oliver on the receiving end of Draven’s attack.
How did he know where they were going?
Royce and Dietrich approached the house from the side as Draven laid Oliver’s body to the ground.
Was he dead? Could you kill a vampire that way? She wasn’t sure because every legend about them wasn’t true, with small exceptions. Like aversions to sunlight. But garlic, holy water, and crosses didn’t put them under.
Jes wondered if a stake in the heart would do the trick, or better yet Draven’s clawed fist.

             
“I’m going to slide through the front door.” Bells whispered in her ear as she silently walked past Jesminda.
What the fuck was she going to do? Stand there? Not contribute?
Sure,
she was human, but damn that was her baby in there.
She watched as Bells snuck up to the house quietly, her steps quick as she glided her way to the door.
Watching her friend in action made her nervous and twitchy, envious.
She wanted to be the one to rescue her baby.
Was she even still sleeping?
Royce had put her under, but now she had been away for some length of time, what did that mean?

             
She crouched lower as the lights from the house flickered on. The lights were just off, now on?
She ducked into the brush and watched as Bells and the rest of them blended into the darkness. Bells had made it to the front door but leapt at the last minute onto the roof and watched.
A tall dark figure took a step onto the porch.
He looked left, then right, before he called out Oliver’s name.
She couldn’t see who it was. He was hidden by the shadows of the porch. It wasn’t Marcus.
The front door cracked wider and light spilled onto the porch illuminating the dark figure.
The hairs on the back of her neck and arms rose in alarm.
This man wasn’t human, he was immortal.

             
He was tall, with pale white skin, and long stringy hair.
She couldn’t tell if it was brown or black but she could see the sharp contours of his features and the thin line of his lips.
She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel them scanning the grounds as he searched for Oliver.

             
“The human’s close, I can hear her heartbeat.”
His voice slimy and hollow slid over her skin in a cold sweat. Her bones cringed, held her to her spot. Fear whispered in her ear, begged her to run. She couldn’t gather the courage or the strength.

             
“Human, if you want your bastard child to live, you will show yourself to me,” he said.
What the hell was she supposed to do? Walk out into the open? He could kill her anyway.
Should she stay in the brush?
There was a rustling next to her and a large warm hand covered her mouth.
Jesminda opened her mouth to bite down on the hand, when she realized who it was.
Royce.

             
Don’t speak, listen. Draven has her; there is no need to come out. Calm yourself.
Royce was speaking into her mind?

             
Match the beat of your heart to mine. I can mask your presence once you do.
Jesminda took calming breaths and listened to the sound of his heart as it beat against her back.
It was slow, calming, a steady reminder of how calm he always was no matter the situation. She’d never seen him show emotions on overload.
Nothing stumped him.
Royce was rock solid.
Her breathing slowed. He stood behind her and they slowly took steps back.
The dark figure on the porch put his hands on the rail and leaned over.
The moon pulled his face out of the shadows and she almost gasped.
He eyes were dead, soulless.

             
“I may not be able to sense you human or the immortal who has masked you, but make no mistake I know you are there listening to me.”
He smirked and walked down the steps to stand in front of the cabin.

             
“Shall I make her scream?
Do you want to hear your brat scream?”
He groaned out loud as if in ecstasy. “How about I make her beg for mercy? Bring her out here in the open and cut her from naval to throat. Bare her open and eat her insides right in front of you?”

             
Don’t listen! Draven has her I swear it!
Royce screamed in her head.

             
The man laughed and walked back into the house.
It was silent for a moment, eerily so. Not even the insects chirped. The immortal inside the house let out a bellow that literally shook the cottage’s very foundation. Bells balanced herself and flew to a nearby tree before the shaking could jar her.

             
That’s our cue.
Royce said, and then they were flying down the path they had come.
She didn’t see any of the others. She chanced a look to her left and saw a dark shadow on all fours barreling through the forest with a child on his back.
Faith’s head was low and she hugged Draven’s wolf form as he sped through the trees. She saw Bells following close behind, leaping lithely from branch to branch and Dietrich had Oliver slung over his shoulder running at a speed only immortals could run.