Embrace the Wind (9 page)

Zane, it must be something in addition to a paw-print. She’s flying as a wraith and I’m leaving some kind of trail, even as I bound. It may be connected to motion.

Do you see me yet?
Zane asked.

No, but I’m at least two miles north of the town now.

I’m on it. Keep looking for me. And as soon as you see me, release your cloak so I can locate you.

Bounding again, she finally saw Zane.
You’re about two hundred yards from me, northwest of my position. I’m heading straight for you. But Margetta is right on my heels.

Lose the cloak. Trust me.

Putting on as much speed as she could, she released her cloak and heard Margetta shriek behind her, the terrible triumphant sound that only wraiths could make.

Olivia touched down and bounded in Zane’s direction.

Margetta was thirty feet away … twenty …

As she soared, Zane flew like a comet toward her, closing the distance between. She prepared her cloaking frequency, knowing the only way either of them would survive was to disappear while in midair the moment he caught her.

She heard a strange whirring sound and realized Margetta was winding up her battle frequency.

Oh, God.

~

Zane caught Olivia in her wolf form and felt her cloaking vibration flow over him in the exact same moment. He knew Margetta was about to release her battle frequency, so he shifted direction abruptly, shooting straight up. He glanced down at the same time and watched a red streak of deadly power flow where he’d just been.

She’d missed them completely, thank the Goddess.

At the same time, Margetta flew in the same direction as her frequency, clearly unable to see them.

Olivia began shifting in his arms. He kept making loose adjustments to his hold on her, allowing for the shift to happen, but careful she didn’t slip from his grasp and fall to earth. She might be able to bound away from various objects, but as far as he knew, she couldn’t levitate.

The Ancient Fae’s curses once more filled the air, along with several piercing wraith shrieks.

“Damn you, Zane,” she shouted. “I know you’re there, even though I can’t see you. Did that shifter-bitch help you escape from my camp at the Dead Zone? Well, you got lucky. That’s all. I suppose she’s your blood rose as well, but damn all the Elf Lords to hell, I’ll have your head and hers before two nights have come and gone.”

Zane stayed in one location at least fifty yards from the screeching wraith. Because Olivia was no longer leaving a paw-mark or a motion trail that Margetta could detect, the Ancient Fae wouldn’t be able to see her.

She held onto Zane’s neck, trembling. She remained silent, however, her attention focused on Margetta as well.

In her wraith form, the Ancient Fae looked sinister with her dark lips and yellow fangs. He wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, but he wouldn’t have given away his position for all the Nine Realms.

Margetta shifted direction suddenly, flying in quick erratic movements back to the street. As she neared the Elf Lords Hideaway, she let out a shrill whistle.

Zane began moving slowly toward the street as well. He could feel Olivia’s cloaking vibration and knew they were safe, that the Ancient Fae couldn’t see them.

Margetta rose high in the air and flew in a westerly direction. Zane watched as those troops that she’d kept away from the battle joined her, all heading no doubt back to Angler’s Cliff and the Dead Zone.

He took deep steadying breaths and held Olivia close. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her feet perched on one of his boots, both arms now fixed around his neck.

Well, that was close,
she pathed at last.

He patted her back.
You did great.

So did you.

He’d have to keep Olivia with him, at least until he’d forced the Ancient Fae out of Swanicott. He wanted Olivia safe, of course. But she’d also proved her worth in battle twice and he’d be a fool not to make use of her. And now that Margetta knew Olivia was a shifter of great power, some if not all her attention would turn toward Olivia, either with the intent to destroy her or to capture her.

He kept his gaze fixed on the horizon as he watched Margetta and her wraith-pairs getting smaller and smaller, until they finally disappeared.

Both he and Olivia had come within a hair’s breadth of meeting the Goddess in the afterlife. If Margetta’s hand-blast had hit either of them, the power of her battle-frequency would have thrown them straight into the ground and they’d both be dead.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “She’s gone. You’re safe.”

He felt her sigh deeply, but she still clung to him. “We almost bought it.”

He wouldn’t deny the truth. “Yes. You’re right. By a gremlin’s tit, I think.” He shuddered. The strange thought went through his head that though he’d only met Olivia this very night, she’d already become someone he feared losing.

Slowly, he levitated in the direction of the main street, flying up and over the last building in the row. A troll clean-up crew had arrived to haul away the corpses. Several of his Guardsmen were binding up the surviving wraith-pairs, getting them ready for transport to Bergisson Realm. Once there, Mastyr Ethan and his bonded blood rose, Samantha, would work to sever the bonds.

When he released Olivia, she left him saying she wanted to check in at the bar to make sure everyone was okay.

He held onto her for a moment, just long enough that she turned to him and met his gaze. “Everything okay?” she asked, a crease between her brows.

He nodded slowly, stunned by just how much he felt driven to keep her pinned to his side.

Finally, he released her.

With his gaze moving constantly, always on the lookout for the enemy, he contacted Chase. Zane asked for a quick update and Chase told him all was quiet in the north.

He felt a measure of relief, since dawn was coming. He needed the night to end.

Sawyer offered the same report, which set his mind at ease.

One of the Invictus wraiths shrieked in pain and his gaze turned toward him. He’d bound a pretty female troll to him who kept snarling at any who got close to her. Once Realm-folk entered the wraith-bond, they became vicious killers, something no doubt this woman had never been in the course of her life.

He had little pity for the wraiths because most had chosen to follow in Margetta’s army. The Invictus had killed thousands of Realm-folk in Swanicott alone over the decades. And he didn’t want to think about just how many this wraith had bitten and drained all by himself.

He hated wraiths, despite all the good-natured wraiths he’d known in the well-protected Wraith Colony. Over the centuries, there had been so many Invictus depredations -- entire families murdered, communities destroyed -- that he was long past sympathy. Maybe one day that would change for him.

For now, however, he kept his Guardsmen from doing injury to the captured wraiths, but he offered no succor beyond that.

A new rumble of motorcycles sounded down the street, heading his direction from the north.

Zane turned and recognized the lead vampire, Ely, a lesser mastyr who he knew well. He was a detective working the drugged out areas of Helms Watch in the south. Zane’s realm was like all the others, battling poverty in places and the drug trade that preyed on the poor.

When Ely backed in his bike, Zane drew close. The mastyr was at least six-four and had served for decades in the Vampire Guard during the prior century. He’d only resigned when the need for investigative law enforcement grew with the introduction of cocaine into Swanicott.

Still sitting on his bike, along with his crew, Ely said, “Looks like you saw some action.” He pulled off his gloves and put them in his front storage compartment.

“We did.”

“Anything we can do?”

Zane shook his head. “No, we’re just wrapping up, waiting for a collection team from Bergisson. But I should warn you that the Ancient Fae was here with a couple dozen wraith-pairs.”

“No, shit?”

Ely was a beefy warrior, with tattoos on both bare shoulders, his muscles ripped and corded. He wore a leather vest, jeans, and heavy black boots with a few silver skulls punched through the leather. He’d given up his long, Guardsman hair, but still kept it shoulder length.

The brother was badass.

He slid his leg over, then nodded to his crew. Only then, did the rest of the men follow suit. Several of his buddies were shifters and as always, leadership and pecking order was an important part of the health of the group.

“Good to see you, Zane. We should set up a time for poker soon.”

Zane nodded. Something bothered him, though, as Ely and his crew disappeared into the bar. But he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He glanced into the night skies, wondering if he should prepare for another attack.

His phone rang. He kept his gaze aloft as he drew the phone to his ear. “Hey, Short Stuff. What’s cookin’?”

“Heard from Chase that you had the bitch from hell out at the Elf Lords Hideaway. Is that true?”

“Way too true, but she’s hightailed it now. And have there been any reports of more wraiths escaping from the island colony?” The unbonded wraiths his Guard had captured tonight were discontented kids from Wraith Island, sick of living a secluded life apart from the realm mainland.

“No, not a single one, thank the Goddess,” Marian said. The island was self-patrolled and the governing wraiths had several ways of detecting if any of their people had left the colony. Still, any number of determined wraiths found a way of leaving despite the local government’s efforts. “But, Mastyr, now I need to know if the rumors are true. Is your new woman really a blood rose?”

The moment Marian spoke the words, Zane remembered why it had bothered him that Ely had headed into the bar.

Olivia was in there.

“Olivia. Holy fuck.” Until bonded, a blood rose was fair game and apparently, she’d fall for any mastyr who made a play for her.

He put his phone away as he sprinted toward the entrance and just in time. Ely had his woman pinned to the wall, feeling her up with everyone staring and apparently ready for a show.

Zane’s fangs made a quick appearance and he roared his rage.

~

Clouds had filled Olivia’s mind, and her body was on fire. The vampire, clearly a mastyr, had her pressed up against the wall and was sucking on her neck and teasing her breast.

Come on,
she pathed,
Bite me. Bite me hard.

She felt the man pull back just a little, getting ready to do exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She moaned, knowing he would strike next.

But suddenly, he flew away from her and all hell broke loose.

She stood just inside the hallway to the bathrooms and thank God for that because her mind cleared. She put a hand to her mouth. She’d almost let another mastyr vampire drink from her and do anything else he wanted.

Zane. Oh, shit!

He’d found them locked together and now battled the vampire. What was his name? How pathetic that she could barely remember. It was something that sounded Biblical.

“Ely, you motherfucker!” Zane shouted.

Right. Ely.

The bikers had quickly pushed chairs and tables out of the way to give the men some space. She already knew the bar enjoyed the occasional drunken brawl but this was two powerful, mastyr vampires. Would there even be a bar left when they were done?

And the Elf Lords Hideaway was smallish by any standard.

Zane and Ely locked in combat. Zane pushed away and threw a punch, hitting Ely square in the jaw. He flew back into a couple of bar stools then launched himself at Zane, head down, while levitating. He struck Zane square in the chest.

Zane slammed against the bar wall. But these vampires were incredibly tough and Zane shoved Ely away but followed with three quick punches to Ely’s chin. His head snapped back each time.

Both men bared fangs.

The bikers cheered and shouted, keeping the men going.

Zane bit into Ely’s arm.

Ely roared, then popped a fist against Zane’s ear.

Zane flew back, his face red with rage and pain. He had blood on his mouth.

The men circled for a few seconds, which gave Olivia just enough time to come to her senses. What she felt emanating from both men was an absolute, irrational, battle-to-the-death mindset.

This wouldn’t be just a brawl; one of these two vampires would die tonight.

As the men started battling again, Olivia did the only thing she could think of. She shifted and began to race around the room, bounding from the top of one wall to the floor, and over again, waiting for the moment the men drew apart even a couple of feet.

When they did, and with just enough space between them, she launched herself at Zane’s chest, caught him hard and took him down to the floor on his back. She growled in his face and when he made a move to get up, she caught his throat in her teeth and pressed hard enough to break skin. At the same time, she shouted within his mind,
Stop, Zane, and I mean now, or I’ll take a chunk out of your throat that will require hours to heal.
She sank her teeth a little deeper for effect. Blood oozed.

“Let me go!” he shouted hoarsely, the words mangled because of her hold on his throat. “That bastard needs to die.” With each word, she bit down harder, his blood now flowing into her mouth.

Ease down, Mastyr. I’m not going anywhere.

Finally, he relaxed. But she wasn’t fool enough to trust him, at least not yet.

Talk to me, Zane. Come on.

What returned was a vampire growl. The man was still caught in his lizard-brain state, so she stayed exactly where she was.

Just breathe, Zane, and I’ll talk. I love your body. Have I told you that? Maybe it’s a shifter thing, but when I look at you something happens inside me. I turn hot as hell and my veins flow as though on fire. I want your hands on me, but I can’t shift yet because you’re caught up in this thing. So let it go, then I’ll shift for you and you can feel my breasts, feel the wet warmth between my legs. Just think about it, focus on your cock penetrating me deeply, sinking into all that beautiful heat.