Her Lion Guard 2 (Paranormal Shifter Romance) (5 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Mary-Lou spent the time left before the ritual sleeping.

It was not how Mary-Lou wanted to spend the day, but her body left her little choice: Between her own insomnia and all of the morning’s excitement, she had to allow herself some rest. The fact that sleeping allowed her to miss more of Jonas’ frustrated pacing and worried hovering was an added bonus.

Jonas woke her up at about ten. The bedroom had been dark and Mary-Lou – disorientated. It took  her a  good five minutes to remember what had happened, what was about to happen. After that, she took an hour to ready herself: To take a shower, eat – to calm her mind and ready her body for yet another supernatural event.

Five minutes before midnight, Mary-Lou and her entire pack made their way up the staircase that led to the building’s flat roof. It had been decided that performing the ceremony in the house was simply too risky: What if the moon moved during the ritual and moonlight no longer touched Mary-Lou? What if the spirit was malevolent and they had to escape? The empty roof bathed in transparent, silver light was much better of a spot than any one room.

“Lucky it’s the full moon,” Cara whispered – they were to be quiet, less they wake their neighbors and expose the whole thing.
y would think we are nuts
, Mary-Lou thought with a sigh. Who in their right mind went to moonlit roofs to summon spirits, after all?

“No clouds out tonight, either,” Sasha offered. Mary-Lou glanced up, green eyes glinting silver as the moon reflected in their depths. “Yes,” she murmured, “Lucky indeed.”

Mary-Lou took a seat in the middle of the roof, surrounded by her pack in all four directions. Jonas offered her the knife, hand trembling only slightly as he watched her grasp the blade with an open palm. The cut was shallow, bled but a few fat, burgundy drops against Mary-Lou’s pale flesh. “Now,” Sasha whispered and Mary-Lou began, voice low and steady as she called to the one that was to offer her salvation.

“Gloria,” she said, “Gloria,” and the night darkened.

“Gloria,” she repeated, swaying  as light buzzed, burned against her skin. The last time, the one that mattered, was a strangled cry of the woman’s name – the last of its vowels eaten away by silver-tinted blackness.

Glo..ri..a.

Something –
someone
smiled. Mary-Lou lost herself in beauty, in the warmth of a soft embrace.

Jonas watched Mary-Lou, his entire being focused on his mate’s shivering body. His hands were fisted at his sides, muscles tense with worry as Mary-Lou trembled in a pool of transparent light. What was happening? How was he to know if all was as it should be, if something was wrong?

He should have prepared better for this. He should have pressed Rowfer into staying, into helping him help
her
.  There was no excuse for his negligence; nothing on this earth should have kept Jonas from putting Mary-Lou’s well-being first and foremost.

Certainly not Wiley Turbo.

Jonas shook off memories tainted by Wiley’s malicious idiocy, unwilling to spend any more time on someone as undeserving of his attention as the corrupt Wolf. Wiley had his chance to change, to bow his head in the face of justice and face retribution. He had let it pass. Jonas had no further obligation to the arrogant man, and would not fail his mate further by thinking of him while something beyond their understanding played havoc on Mary-Lou’s mind.

“Do you think she is alright?” Cara whispered. The fox’s face was a patchwork of black and white, her skin glinting bone-white where her features did not spill inky shadows. Jonas evaded sharp hazel eyes, unwilling to burden the girl with his worries.

“Yes,” he said instead, because it was what she wanted to hear – because it was what he wanted to be true.  Cara nodded, lips thinning. She dropped her gaze from Jonas, from Mary-Lou’s insensate figure.

Jonas closed his eyes. This – this was unbearable. When will it all end?

“Jonas,” Sasha’s voice cut through the quiet desperation of the moment. Anger edged the man’s tone, weighted the air around him with darkness that had nothing to do with the absence of light.

Jonas knew what –
whom
– his eyes would find before he raised his gaze.

“Wiley.”

It was not to end yet.

Wiley took in the spectacle before him, disgusted amusement stretching his lips in a sharp grin. How perfect – the human was a witch, too. Her death will be sweet indeed.

Scaling the building had left Wiley a bit winded – a bit high on adrenaline and the pure, directionless lust that the full moon inspired in their kind. Wiley’s eyes glistened red, the shadows within them edged with silver. How fortunate, indeed, to have it all end tonight.

“Wiley.”

The Wolf shifted his bloody gaze from the woman, from where it belonged, to Jonas. The Lion Shifter stood but a few steps from him: His shoulders squared and his chin rose up, muscled hands tipped with claws where they trembled at his sides. Something in Wiley ached to see the man he had once called brother regard him with hate, with anger so potent it dimmed his eyes. How his mother would cry, his sister suffer, had they lived to see it all turn out like this.

Wiley shook his head. There was no time for reminiscence, and none ever more for regret. He could not live a life split between two – had already chosen the wolf, chosen
life
and
law
over the weakness that was his human side. Jonas had chosen differently; whether he lived or died was no longer Wiley’s – no longer the Wolf’s problem.

“I told you,” the Wolf smiled, wide and open and purposefully goading, “That I would come to collect her, didn’t I?”

“What are you on about?” Jonas snapped. “Wiley, the match is over! You didn’t win.”

“Ah, but I didn’t lose either, did I?” Wiley staggered forward, just a few steps. He would not risk more with the Snake’s eyes fastened on his throat, the Fox growling nearby. Not yet. The Wolf smirked; he would, however, antagonize them a bit further. 

“Did you think you would win, Jonas?” Pityweighted Wiley’s voice, the sound mocking as it slid between the Wolf’s sharp, sharp teeth, “
You
, who owe your very life to me? You thought you could take
me
, cub?” The last of Wiley’s words were a growl, his anger very much real. To think that Jonas had forsaken him, forgotten his debt – and for what? For
what
? This measly, broken human and a ragged pack that would collapse at the first obstacle, overrun him at the first opportunity? The Wolf howled, forgetting the purpose of his visit for a brief, senseless moment.

“I never wanted to fight you, Wiley,” Jonas was saying, voice underlain with instinctual distress. The bond may be gone, their pack destroyed, but Jonas Edwards was not one to forget friends easily. Neither was Wiley.

No, Wiley did not forget.

“It was not my first choice, either,” the Wolf laughed, the sound hollow and dark. “Kinda hoped you would turn tail and run. It is, after all, what you do
best
.”

Neither did he forgive.

Jonas, bless his stupid, do-gooder heart, actually stepped back. Actually thought about Wiley’s words, tried to find absent meaning twisted in their depths. If Wiley was a better man, he would have explained – would have told Jonas the truth of his presence, faced him fairly and away from his family.

Wiley was far from a good man.

The Wolf struck quickly – before Jonas could respond, before the pain of Wiley’s words could be replaced by indignation. Jonas was not prepared for the assault, could do nothing but grab Wiley as the man hurled past him and toward Mary-Lou. They fell together, snarling and tearing at each other with single-minded ferociousness. Wiley grinned through the pain of Jonas’ claws, eyes bleeding red as the lust for battle overtook his mind. Had the Lion cub not crossed him thus, had he not joined forces with those Wiley had sworn to hunt until the day he died, the Wolf would have been delighted at the opportunity to play with one of his own strength. It was not often that he met another of his caliber, an alpha worth his time. Even on such occasions, friendly sparring was far from Wiley’s mind; the need to overtake, dominate,
kill
too strong to ignore. But with Jonas – it would have been different with Jonas.

Yet it was not. Wiley found the thought most displeasing. For this, too, the human wench would pay.

Howls and growls shook  the night as Wiley’s pack descended upon the roof. Their job was simple – keep the Snake and Fox distracted while Wiley took care of Jonas and then, Mary-Lou. With the fight six to two, the task was easily accomplished. Wiley grinned with satisfaction even as blood poured from a deep gash against his forehead, burning as it seeped into his left eye. The fight had taken them to the very ledge of the roof, a path that may have seemed random to the Lion Shifter but had been very much planned on Wiley’s part.

“Sorry, Jay,” the Wolf growled at the wild-eyed man beneath him, “But I have no time for you tonight.”

Wiley rammed a powerful fist in the very center of Jonas’ chest before the Lion Shifter could so much as snarl back. The hit would have but winded the man, stalled him for mere moments – if it had not also slammed him backwards, straight into the metal railing. Had Jonas been human, the impact would have shattered his spine, cracked his skull and spilled his brains against the moonlit roof. As it was, the Lion Shifter lost consciousness, horror tightening his face moments before darkness took over his mind. Jonas knew what was to happen, what had happened. Wiley smirked; good.

Wiley let Jonas’ body collapse where it would, blood-lust receding as his focus returned to the plan at hand. Violence still raged around him, the Snake and Fox fighting back to back against four wild-eyed Wolves. Wiley sought out the two missing members of his pack, snorting in disgust to find a scarred woman cowering over the fallen body of a gray wolf not far from where he stood. Wiley kicked her in passing, growling as she let out a mournful whine. Pathetic. Had he more time, he would have taught the weaklings a lesson.

The human had fallen motionless at some point during the short skirmish. Wiley studied her limp body: His eyes traveled up her bared neck, catching on the mating marks there. The Wolf wondered what it would feel like to put his own teeth there – not to Mark, no, but to
tear
, to chew through skin and muscle and bone. Wiley licked his lips, tasting phantom blood on his tongue.

Wiley ignored the disconcerting slackness of Mary-Lou’s face, the empty eyes with which she regarded all and everything around her. The girl was easy to pick up, to sling over a broad shoulder – and so he did, pleased to encounter no resistance. Had she been this compliant before… well, she would have been dead sooner. The Wolf howled in triumph, steps picking up speed until he was running across the roof. He did not forget to wave jauntily at the remnants of Mary-Lou’s pack just before he swung off the ledge. Their angry screams had him laughing the entire way down.

Wiley landed in a crouch, muscles tensing briefly as flesh smacked against stone. His body absorbed the impact, and he was quickly off and running again. A large, black jeep waited for him by the curb. It was parked mere meters from the front of Mary-Lou’s apartment – Wiley smirked at the appropriate presumptuousness of his men. He set Mary-Lou on the ground as to open the back door.

It was his first mistake of the night.

Mary-Lou whimpered in displeasure. The brightness, the warmth around her was receding – too early, much too early for what she needed, what her mind needed to heal. She grasped at the presence of Gloria within her, held on tightly even as it slipped through her fingers like so much sand.

No, darling, no
, her mind whispered, urgent and hard,
You must wake up.
Mary-Lou shook her head; no, not yet, not yet –

Mary-Lou, you must wake up!

Mary-Lou came to with a start. She blinked against the sudden darkness, the change of scenery – this, where was she?

“What—” Mary-Lou gasped, voice rising in a helpless scream as a bloody hand clamped over her lips.

“Shut up,” someone – Wiley! It was Wiley! – growled in her ear. Mary-Lou kicked at the man, bit at the flesh pressed against her mouth until her teeth tore skin. The Wolf snarled, gripped her tight enough to bruise. “Fucking bitch,” he spit out. Seconds later, Mary-Lou found herself pushed in the backseat of a car, head smacking hard against the opposite door. She shook dizziness away, groped for the door’s handle – just to have it wrench open beneath her fingers, another body pushing hers further inside. A female Wolf had just entered the car, jaw blood-slicked and eyes fierce. She grasped Mary-Lou’s wrists in one of hers, dragging the disorientated human into her lap and caging her between her thighs.

“The others?” Wiley growled. The woman shook her head.

“Fucking Snake Shifted. It’s hell up there.” She quieted, hand tightening around Mary-Lou until the human gasped in pain. “Tony’s dead,” the woman finally ground  out. Wiley cursed, nails scratching paint off the car as he slammed the door shut.

“Keep the bitch still,” he ordered from the front. The rumble of engine, the squeal of tires, and the car swerved onto the road and sped into the night.