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Authors: Sable Grace

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BOOK: Before the Fall
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“Where did it go?”

Shanna twisted to her knees, peering out the windows. “There!” She yelled, pounding the rear glass. “Behind us.”


Son of a bitch!

Zach could have handled seeing just about anything in the rearview mirror except what he saw. Vampyre, no problem. Shyfter, he'd have kicked its ass.

But it was neither of those. Instead, it was the one Dark Breed that still had the ability to still his heart, the one breed responsible for his retirement from the Order.

A Lychen.

 

Chapter Three

7:42 p.m.

4 hours and 18 minutes before the fall . . .

Z
ach floored the pedal and risked another glance in the rearview. The damned Lychen was following them and showed no signs of tiring.

“Give me my gun.”

“It won't do any good.” He tugged against the cuffs. “Put your belt back on.”

She braced her hand on his shoulder. “You heard the news. That wolf has to be one of the rabid ones they were talking about. I have to shoot it.”

“Fine.” She wasn't going to believe him, anyway. She'd rather believe perfect strangers on the damned radio.

Zach shifted forward as much as he could, allowing her to grab the gun. She slid open the rear window, aimed, and fired. The Lychen stumbled, but it didn't fall. He pulled hard on his arm, bringing her around in the seat. “See? Regular bullets won't even slow it down. Now put on your seatbelt.”

The minute he heard the belt click into place he sped up, hoping that maybe she'd inflicted enough pain to cause the werewolf to lose its form.

He should've known they wouldn't get that lucky. When a Lychen caught scent of something it wanted, it could hang onto it for days. He had to do something to throw the beast off their trail.

He squinted against bright, oncoming headlights and a plan began to take route. “Hold onto something,” he shouted, before cutting the wheel sharply to the left, directly into the path of the vehicle coming right at them.

“You're going to get us killed!”

“Come on, you bastard.”

“Zach?”

The driver of the other car blared its horn. Waiting until the last possible second, Zach swerved into the ditch. The truck bounced over the embankment as a high-pitched yelp broke through the squeal of the other vehicle's brakes. Zach struggled to regain control of the pickup, and with a bone-jarring bounce, he directed the truck out of the ditch and back onto the road.

Shanna twisted in her seat. “Oh God, there's dog all over the road.”

“Good.” Zach wiped the beads of moisture from his forehead. “Never killed a Lychen with a moving vehicle before. Hopefully it'll stay dead.”

Shanna adjusted the cuff on her arm with shaking fingers. “It was a
wolf
! If you would have just stopped the truck and let me have a clear shot at it, I could have ended it right there. But no! Your insane ideas almost got us killed. Almost got someone else killed!”

He held her gaze for several seconds. “Princess, my
insane ideas
are what's going to keep you alive.”

She glared at him, tucking her gun into the front of her pants. “You really want me to believe that was a . . . I don't even know that word.”

“Lychen. Lycanthrope. Werewolf.” He aimed the vent right at his face, his temper making the truck feel like a sauna. “We have a lot of names for them. Sadly, they only have one for you.”

“Oh, really. And what might that be? ‘Bitch'? Or your favorite insulting nickname, maybe . . . ‘princess'?”

Zach smirked. “Nope. The only thing they call you, sweetheart, is
food
.”

F
ifteen minutes later, Shanna finally broke her oath of silence and thrust her finger at her window and the man striding toward them in the private airport loading area.

“Let me guess. That's your friend?”

Zach gave a slight wave to Lance through the window. “Yep.”

“Shocker.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice, but Zach ignored it. He was sick of trying to convince her that it hadn't been an average red wolf they'd splattered all over the road. If she refused to believe him, she'd believe Lance. Lance had ways of proving these things that Zach couldn't hope to replicate.

He parked the pickup, then pulled Shanna through his side after him.

She didn't protest as she stumbled to her feet beside him, her gaze locked on Lance's approach. Zach couldn't blame her for staring. Lance stuck out in Key West the way a Rolls Royce stuck out in a junk yard. Wearing a suit worth several thousand dollars, long blond hair, and perfectly polished shoes, Lance strolled toward them, a well-dressed flunky on either side of him.

“How do you know someone like that?”

“The Order.”

“Ah. Of course. He a dealer?”

“If he was, don't you think you'd know, being one of KWPD's finest and all?”

She growled something he couldn't decipher. “Where'd he get the money, then?”

“He's been around for centuries.”

“Right.”

“Ever hear of Sir Lancelot?”

Shanna gave him a light shove to let him know she wasn't taking him seriously, and Zach shrugged, pulling her toward Lance and his entourage. The fact that she was looking at the man behind the King Arthur myths would be only one of many things she was going to have trouble believing.

“Lance,” he said, holding out his hand for a shake, yanking Shanna's with him.

“Would you stop that?” she seethed.

Lance looked down at the handcuffs and grinned. “Do I want to know?”

“No.”

“Right then.” He gestured behind them where a group of people were bustling about his private jet. “She's next in line for fueling. It's the soonest I could arrange. I'd wager you have fifteen minutes, tops, to get her in the air and see how far you can get before they make you land. Soon as they get the word to upgrade national security, you'll be grounded, mate, and they'll begin evacuations.”

“Evacuations for what, exactly?” Shanna asked.

“Yeah,” Zach said. “Tell her. She won't believe me. She thinks the Dark Breed that just chased us, going sixty for twenty minutes, was your run-of-the-mill red wolf.”

Lance turned a slow gaze in Shanna's direction. “Love, Hell's opening whether you choose to believe it or not. If you like your life, I suggest you do whatever this bloke tells you to.”

Shanna let out a snort. “Do I have ‘gullible' stamped on my forehead? You're asking me to believe in
werewolves,
for God's sake.”

Lance's brow lifted inquisitively toward Zach. “Stubborn?”

“The definition.”

“Perhaps we should give the lady some proof?”

Not knowing what Lance had in mind, and not caring if it got Shanna onboard the plane without further fight, he nodded.

“Malcolm!” At Lance's bellow, a tall, lanky man dressed almost as well as Lance walked toward them. “That an Armani?”

The man looked down at his suit then back at Lance. “Yes, sir.”

“Take it off. Don't want you destroying it.”

“Sir?”

“The lady needs convincing. I'll leave that to you.”

Malcolm grinned and wasted no more time stripping bare-ass naked right there on the airstrip. Shanna gasped. “What the hell is he doing? Zach, that's indecent exposure—oh, my God!”

Malcolm's dark complexion turned black and hairy as his bones shifted and he dropped to all fours. Hands became paws. Nose became snout. His brown eyes shifted and flickered to pale yellow as they stared straight up at Shanna. Zach looked away. There were a decent number of Lychen in the Order. Ones who weren't a threat to him. Didn't matter. He still didn't like them.

Shanna tried to bolt back to her car, but her binds to Zach jerked her to her knees. She reached for her weapon, but he grabbed it first. “Give me my gun!”

“That'll do, Mal.” Lance said, touching what had become a large wolf on the back of the head.

Shanna was shaking so badly Zach had to lift her to her feet and pin her to his side to keep her from falling again.

“I'm sorry, Shanna, but you had to see for yourself that everything I told you is true.”

“H-how is that even possible?”

Zach didn't think she even realized she was clutching his hand, and he didn't try to break free of her hold. As they watched the wolf shift back into Malcolm, watched him dress, watched him walk away howling with laughter, Zach kept his arm firmly around Shanna, waiting for her to faint.

She didn't.

“Lychen,” Lance explained. “But not to worry. He's the good sort. Works for the Order.”

“But there are others out there who aren't on our side. Ones who chase cars and don't stop long enough to pant. And he was only one of thousands.” Zach pointed toward the plane. “You ready to let me take you to St. Augustine or not?”

“I-I need to sit down. Oh God, I need to sit down!”

“You can sit on the plane.” Zach looked to Lance. “It's less than an hour's flight to St. Augustine. There enough fuel for that?”

“Can't swear to it, mate. Hasn't been used in months.”

“I'll check. I just need enough to get me there. We don't have time to fuel up.”

“Needing my pilot?”

Zach shook his head. He didn't want any other passengers he'd have to worry about once they landed. “I've got it.”

It had been years since he'd flown a plane this size, but he'd manage.

“Thought so.”

When he looked down at Shanna, her eyes were wet and her nose was turning red. “You all right?”

She shook her head. “You're really being serious, aren't you?”

He nodded and squeezed her lightly. “I wish I wasn't.”

When he bent and scooped her into his arms without the smallest mutter of protest from her, he was afraid she was going into shock. He carried her to the plane and into the cockpit, settling her into the copilot's chair as Lance followed.

“Coming with us?” he asked.

“Can't. Supposed to be looking for Aphrodite's Chosen.” Lance pointed at the cuffs. “Think you can unlock her. Looks too bloody frightened to make a run for it now.”

“Got something I can use? The key's at her house.”

“I always have something, mate.”

Pulling a long, thin wand from the inside pocket of his jacket, Lance pointed it at the handcuffs, spoke a foreign word, and
bam
, the handcuffs snapped in two.

“Thanks.” Zach said.

And this time, Shanna
did
faint.

 

Chapter Four

8:05 p.m.

3 hours and 55 minutes before the fall . . .

S
hanna woke with a taste in her mouth like she'd been sucking on a dirty sock and a headache she couldn't explain. She didn't bother to open her eyes, the feel of the rumble under her bottom immediately reminding her that she was on a plane with Zach and that it must have taken off. She'd fainted. For the first time in her life, she'd freaking fainted.

And now she was on her way to St. Augustine with the man she'd once thought she would marry—kidnapped and scared out of her mind.

She'd seen a werewolf! And . . . and . . .

“What the hell
was
he?” she blurted out, remembering the icy cold spark that Lance had directed at her handcuffs a second before she'd passed out.

Finally she opened her eyes and found Zach watching her, looking all too casual and comfortable in the pilot's seat to suit her. She hadn't known he could fly a plane. Hell, there was lot about Zach she didn't know, though admittedly, he
had
tried to tell her once.

She hadn't believed him then, but after what she'd seen this morning, she wasn't so sure he was crazy anymore.

Maybe
she
was the crazy one.

“I told you. Lychen.” Lance adjusted the blanket he must have put on her while she was out, tucking it firmly beneath her chin. “How are you feeling?”

“No, not him,” she said, ignoring his question and shoving the blanket away, feeling as though she was going to suffocate beneath a panic attack. “
Lance.
What is he?”

This was all too surreal.

“Mage,” Zach said.

A small television monitor hung above her head and she stared at it as images of people fleeing crumbling buildings flashed and flickered. The ticker at the bottom of the footage read:
“Nashville, TN: Earthquake devastates city. Thousands missing and/or presumed dead. City officials blame possible destruction of city zoo for number of wild animal sightings . . .”

“Pardon?”

“Lance. He's a Mage.”

She was sorry she'd asked.

“Sort of a Witch but a lot more powerful—”

“Never mind. I don't want to know.” She pointed to the television. “Earthquakes?”

He nodded. “All with unexplainable
animal
sightings. Not sure how anyone can confuse a demon with an animal. The Lychen, maybe, but the others? Nothing animalistic about the way they look. Just the way they eat.”

She was suddenly so thirsty she could cry, but she wanted answers more than she wanted water. “W-why are they happening?”

“I've told you why.”

“Because Hell is opening?”

“The earthquakes are occurring over the weak spots of the Underworld. Nashville, Orlando. I'm guessing Egypt had a massive one as well. And likely Miami, in our area. That would explain the asshole I found this morning and the Lychen back there.”

Shanna rubbed her temples, trying to wrap her head around everything. “When is all of this supposed to happen?”

Zach held out his watch. Leaning forward, she studied the countdown timer. Watching each second tick off filled her belly with dread. “Midnight?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed. “We have to get to the fort, get you safely Below before that time arrives.”

“And what about everyone else in the world? How are these gods you believe in going to save all
them
?”

Zach held her gaze but didn't answer.

“My God.” Shanna closed her eyes, sickened by the images of all the wounded and dead she was conjuring. “How many people are going to die?”

“No idea,” Zach said matter-of-factly.

She couldn't think about that right now. She needed to clear her head, to think about something other than the images of nasty creatures clawing their way out of the earth to kill innocent people . . .

“Was he really Lancelot?” she whispered, feeling foolish for asking something so silly at that particular moment.

“Yep.”

Shanna remembered enough from English class to know the name Lancelot du Lac, and he fit the description of the seven-foot-tall blonde she'd just met at the airfield. Maybe Zach wasn't joking.


The
Lancelot
?

“He was a knight once, yes. But the Lancelot you're referring to is a storybook character. Just happens to be based on Lance DuLaque. If it weren't for his weakness for women, you'd have never heard of him.”

“Okay.”

Okay. That's it. She would accept it because right now, it made about as much sense as anything else.

Zach reached across the small space separating their seats and squeezed her knee. “It's all right, Shanna. The Order is setting up a couple of headquarters on each of the continents. The closest to here is being constructed in St. Augustine. An old fort there that they think will hold up well against attack. I'm getting you there and you'll be safe. All right?”

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“You said you're getting me there. You meant us, right?”

“I'll be reporting for duty when you're settled.”

Her palms were suddenly clammy. And her chest hurt. Why did her chest hurt? “You're going to fight them?”

He gave her a half-smile. “If I'm not too rusty.”

“This is all real, isn't it?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Okay.”

There it was again. That word of acceptance that she didn't truly feel. “Can I . . . do anything?”

She was coming out of her skin, needing to do something, anything to occupy her mind. And Zach was still so familiar to her, still so strong and beautiful and
hers,
though she held no real claim on him anymore. It wasn't his job to make her feel better. He was trying to save her life. That was far more than she could ask for.

“Shh . . .” he covered the earpiece with his hand and listened intently for several seconds. “We're being ordered to land in Daytona.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Inside the table is a key that will unlock the shelves at the back of the plane. See if there's anything you're comfortable using. When we land, I want you armed.”

“I have my gun.”

“I told you, it won't do you any good. You need silver to weaken most of them long enough to kill them.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And Shanna?”

“Hmm?” She was struggling with her seatbelt, struggling to remember how to stand the hell up.

“Drink some water. Eat a sandwich. We'll have to land in about ten minutes.”

It took Shanna what felt like an eternity to pull herself together and unlock the weapons case at the back of the plane. The water had helped, but the sandwich was sitting heavy in her stomach and she wished she hadn't forced it down. But now, the cop in her was coming alive at the sight of all the weapons in front of her. She instinctively reached for a set of knuckle rings on the lowest shelf and pocketed them, their sharp spikes stabbing her legs through the denim.

“What else am I supposed to grab?” she called out, gravity shifting as the plane dropped altitude. They must be getting close to Daytona. Shanna wished they weren't. She felt safer up here than she did on the ground, where the world wasn't
her
world anymore.

“Anything you know how to use!”

“What about you?”

“I have my own.”

She grabbed a shotgun and a box of shells, then fisted a couple of daggers and something that looked like a foot-long nail. She found the bag he'd been carrying beside the guitar case and crammed the weapons inside. “I know you said guns won't work, but I grabbed a shotgun anyway.”

“It'll work. The shells are silver.”

She worked her way back to the cockpit. “What's with the guitar?”

“What about it?”

“You never told me you played.”

“I don't.”

“Oh.” She wrung her hands together and sat down.

“It's only an hour to St. Augustine from Daytona. We should be okay, right?”

He answered with a smile that wasn't quite reflected in his eyes. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn't offer her any false promises. So he kept quiet.

Shanna realized she'd never been more afraid in her life. Not even last year when she'd had a gun pressed to her temple and a very noble stranger named Zach had distracted the perp long enough for her to take him down.

“Time to land?” she asked.

“Either that or risk being shot down by a nation in panic.”

BOOK: Before the Fall
10.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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