Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set (54 page)

He luxuriated in the cool water for some time, letting it
soothe his parched body. Finally he climbed out, shook out his wet hair, then went
to his satchel and pulled out a slice of jerky. As he was about to take a
healthy bite, he felt a sudden need to check on Shala. With an ease he took for
granted, he sent the hawk form up into the windswept sky.

The impulse hadn't particularly alarmed him; he was
accustomed to this periodic need to connect with his daughter. Ripping off a
hunk of meat with his teeth, he chewed, savoring his first taste of food in
over two days and letting his awareness idly follow the hawk's.

When the images came, he dropped the meat and shot to his
feet. His beloved Shala was in the arms of a werewolf! A second werewolf
plodded beside them. A tribesman he couldn't identify from that height lagged
behind, struggling to keep pace. Undoubtedly the hapless man had tried to come
to Shala's aid and had become a captive himself.

Farther back, he saw Lily, her breath heaving as she hurried
to catch up. For a second Tony thought she was trying to rescue Shala. But that
couldn't be. Werewolves could travel at dizzying speeds, and surely with their
keen hearing they knew she was there.

He'd just held that woman in his arms. In a vision, true,
but one so real he might as well have lived it. A cry of denial and rage
erupted from Tony's throat, the emotions so overwhelming he lost his connection
with the hawk.

He forced himself to concentrate on the bird's movements—the
flutter of wings, the shallow dip of the neck with each stroke, the wind
blowing through feathers. Soon he again saw what it saw. Lily.

With a small cry of pain, she stumbled and grabbed for her
injured foot. The werewolves paused, looking back. She inspected the injury,
then dropped her foot. Hesitating uncertainly, almost as if reconsidering, she
reached in the pocket of her jacket. Then, taking some deep breaths, she started
after the werewolves again.

Something about the gesture made Tony recall her earlier
defense of Sebastian. His conclusion clicked into place, confirmed. Lily hadn't
abandoned her king after all. She'd merely become his homing device to lead him
to the Dawn People.

His renewed hatred combined with his fear for Shala and
threatened to debilitate him, so he honed his resolve with action. Stripping
off his loincloth, he ripped clothing from the satchel. Moments later he was in
hemp breeches, clasping the belt of his hunting knife sheath around the waist.

Next he checked a small pocket on his belt for the supply of
ammonia inhalant capsules he'd put there after he'd purchased them in
Flagstaff—his only true defense against the werewolves. Reassured, he stepped
into his moccasins.

Putting his hand firmly on the hilt of his knife, Tony loped
toward the riverside trail.

He should have wondered why the spirits hadn't delivered him
from hate as they'd promised. But he didn't. His heart was so full of it he
could only imagine the pleasure he would take in killing Lily.

The desert terrain had disappeared miles back, and Beryl was
leading Lily ever higher, deeper inside the forest, into parts of the canyon
she knew like the back of her hand. Although the deliberately clumsy footfalls
of the werewolves and Shala's high, sweet voice still reached her ears, she had
no idea how far ahead they were.

On her right, Lily saw an earthen embankment where she might
get a better view. Trotting over to it, she grabbed a tree branch and hoisted
herself onto a narrow ledge that formed a foothold in the dirt. Although the
damp soil was somewhat slippery, the drought-hardened ground beneath was still
firm and supported her easily. The rising wind made the branch she was holding
insecure, so she reached for a larger one. Steadying herself, she peered
through bobbing leaves, searching for the two enormous wolfish heads.

They were about a half mile ahead, moving slowly, making a
lot of unnecessary noise. Behind them was the man she'd seen at the village.
The sky suddenly crackled with lightning. Thunder rumbled. The werewolves'
noises were momentarily lost, as was Shala's song.

Beryl undoubtedly didn't know her vision and hearing were
nearly as acute as his. Lily also suspected he'd sent out his telepathic threat
to her at the village instinctively, and had no idea she'd received it. His
ignorance would work to her advantage.

Extending her psyche, she tentatively and quickly probed
Beryl's mind. What a simple mind he had, lacking complex thought, merely
following instructions, and she easily read his intentions.

An alarmed cry left her lips. Dear God! Beryl was leading
her to the Clearing of the Black Hands.

For an instant she thought she might be sick. Images of fire
and snow, a white flowing gown, a golden-eyed raptor, flashed before her eyes.
Blood — Morgan's, Jorje's, her own — flowed thick and red. Finally the images
came to rest on Jorje's lifeless body.

Her emotions whirled around a vortex of fear. Even for the love
of Shala, could she face that fateful spot and all the memories it revived?

Just as abruptly as it had arisen, the thunder stopped, and
in its wake rang the tones of Shala's sweet song.

With trembling hands, Lily grasped the tree branch firmly
and swung off the ledge back to the ground.

The grotesque events of the night Dana Gibbs had invoked the
Shadow of Venus in Morgan's behalf were coming back to haunt her. As a werewolf
she'd had the courage born of invincibility. Did she possess even one ounce of
that courage now that she was mortal?

For Shala's sake, she hoped she did.

"You fools," Sebastian growled. "Why didn't
you keep her in your sights?"

"She was right behind us, Lord," Beryl whined.
"I never thought she'd leave the trail."

"Bah! I told you how well she knows this country."

"She'll come." This reassurance was spoken in a
human voice. "We have the girl.”

"Don't underestimate Lily, mortal," Sebastian
retorted. "It could be the end of you." He rapped his walking stick
on the ground and shook his head in annoyance. "Very well," he
finally said. "We will wait. Put the girl in the ring."

Lily pressed her body tightly against the stone wall behind
the clearing and inched along until she could see everything. The effort of
blocking her thoughts against Sebastian's continuous psychic scan was taking
its toll, but her brief foray into Beryl's mind had given her a wealth of
information beyond the location he was bound for. She knew Shala was safe, for
the time being at least, and the reason Sebastian had sent Beryl, his trusted
prince, out on that particular night. And why she hadn't sensed Sebastian's
presence since she and White Hawk had climbed down into the canyon.

Sebastian had been biding his time until it was auspicious
for the Song of Hades. Tonight the moon came close to Pluto, an aspect needed
to perform the ceremony that created werewolves. While the perfect aspect for
the Shadow of Venus occurred only once in seven years, the planet Pluto moved
slowly, and if Sebastian failed tonight, he'd have several chances before the
moon passed away. As usual, he could bide his time, although she suspected
failure wasn't something he'd considered.

Lily didn't find it coincidental that he'd selected the
Clearing of the Black Hands as a site for the ceremony. Large and relatively
free of vegetation, it had the requisite fire pit. The black stone
outcroppings, some of which jutted up several stories high, gave it a dramatic
air that would appeal to him.

Obviously, they didn't doubt she'd come. The fire was already
laid and burning steadily, waiting for more fuel. One of the eight werewolves,
whom she recognized as the omega wolfling Philippe, was walking in a circle,
cautiously sprinkling water on the dirt.

Sanctifying the ring. In preparation for me. Fingers of dread
traveled up Lily's spine.

Inside the route that Philippe traveled, sobbed Shala, her
blissful enchantment obviously gone. She climbed to her feet and started to
leave the ring. Philippe growled. She scooted back to the center.

Including Sebastian, nine werewolves were in the clearing.
Off to one side stood the mysterious man who'd accompanied them, his face again
shadowed by the limb of a tree.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the man's familiar, arrogant
expression, and though she was startled, Lily wasn't at all surprised. So
Ravenheart had found someone to accept his unholy bargain. How she wished he'd
failed. Not only would he be unaffected by the holy water, she wasn't willing
to kill another member of the Dawn People, no matter how twisted he was.

She slipped one of the bottles out of her pocket, positioned
the small knife so it would be easy to reach, then glanced up at the dark sky,
hoping the ever-increasing streaks
 
of
lightning would offer a glimpse of soaring white. Where was that filthy fowl
when she needed it? She couldn't remember ever needing help more. The creature
had come to her aid once before. Why not now?

She heard Sebastian give Philippe another instruction and
turned her attention back to him. He was wearing a maroon tuxedo and top
hat—which he kept having to secure against the blowing wind—and looked as if he
were about to attend an opera.

All signs of his encounter with the holy water were gone,
although this was to be expected, since alchemizing to human form never failed
to heal a werewolf's injuries. He did, however, stay well back as Philippe
nervously spilled the dangerous water and chanted the litany that accompanied
the drawing of the ring. During Sebastian's unusual bout with anxiety, his
psychic probe ceased. Seeking a moment's rest and praying she wouldn't regret
it, Lily dropped her mental block.

She didn't have time for regret.

With an incredible speed, Sebastian whirled. His hat flew
off his head and he made a titanic leap, landing in front of Lily. He ripped
the vial of holy water she'd been clutching in her hand and sent it soaring
over the treetops.

"So you did come, dear one," he said. "I am
pleased. I have such a treat in store."

Lily tried to fight but it was useless, and she quickly gave
up, allowing Sebastian to pin her arms to her body and carry her to the edge of
the ceremonial circle, where he deposited her.

"The Song of Hades is about to begin," he said,
adjusting the tail of his maroon waistcoat. "The child will make a
fetching werewolf, do you not agree?"

"Damn you, Sebastian, you can't do this. No one's ever
initiated a child before. She could die."

"Relax, my dear. We rarely see such robustness in
Europe. I doubt the rigors will prove too much for this healthy wild child. And
— if you will pardon my pun — you shall have a ringside seat for my little
experiment."

He was toying with her like an overfed cat might a mouse. To
test her theory, Lily took a step toward the ring. A quick sly smile crossed
his face. She returned his smile knowingly.

"Me for the girl, Sebastian. Let me take her to the
village, then I'll submit to the ceremony."

"The child would make a unique addition to the
pack." Sebastian brought his hand to his chin reflectively. "I must
think on this."

Lily knew he was posturing. She waited quietly.

 
    
The silence grew longer. And longer. Still
she didn't speak.

"You will submit willingly?" he finally asked.
"After the girl is safely in her village."

"No, Lily!" Shala cried from inside the ring.
"You can't become a werewolf again! You promised!"

Lily forced herself to ignore Shala's plea, meeting
Sebastian's eyes as only an alpha queen might do. After another span of
silence, he laughed. "You must think I am still the fool for you, Lily. I
know you will not return, so do not seek to deceive me."

"Deceive you, Lord? How could I? I’m not one of you
anymore and have lost my skill at trickery. But even if I hadn't, I couldn't
possibly be strong enough to deceive a great leader like yourself."

He laughed again. "Oh, Lily, I have missed your sugary
praise almost as much as your peppery tongue. All right." He pivoted
toward Ravenheart. "The child can go free. But I will ask the young
warrior here to take her in your stead."

Ravenheart looked stunned. "But, I—"

"You will take her!"

"Yes, yes sire, of course I will," Ravenheart
replied. He started toward the ring.

"Wait!" Lily said. "I won't agree to this
change unless you give me another promise. After the ceremony we'll leave Ebony
Canyon and never come back."

Sebastian's gaze shifted between Lily, Shala, and the
eagerly waiting Ravenheart. A werewolf's promise was bound by Law, and if Lily
extracted one, Sebastian could not go back on his word. It was a hellish
bargain, but if she saved Shala's life and protected the Dawn People it was a
bargain well worth making.

"Agreed," Sebastian replied. "Get the child,
Warrior."

Face unaccountably lit with triumph, Ravenheart entered the
circle and grabbed Shala's arm.

"I won't go!" Shala screamed, pulling back with
all her tiny might. "I won't leave Lily! I won't!"

"Shut up, girl!" Ravenheart growled. "You're
too stupid to know what's good for you."

"Don't treat her that way," Lily ordered,
crouching to Shala's level. "Come out now, Shala." She pulled the
girl to the edge of the circle and embraced her. "I'll be all right, but I
won't be coming back."

"No, Lily, p-plee-ease. I-I-I was just about to
f-forgive you. Please don't s-stay here."

"It's the only way, sweetheart. Go with Ravenheart now.
Tell Star Dancer I appreciated her kindness." Lily blinked hard and looked
away for a second. "When . . . when your father returns tell him justice
was served."