Logan's Acadian Wolves (46 page)

Logan’s clothes were off as the airboat hit the bank. Man to wolf, he’d morphed to his beast. Wynter. He smelled her blood and couldn’t contain the rage. Tearing through the brush, he rammed into the flimsy door. Vampire. His mate. He growled, saliva dripping from his lips, and lunged.

At first, Étienne thought he’d heard Fiona returning, but quickly surmised it was an animal. As the menacing wolf crashed through the door, he clutched Wynter’s shoulders and wrapped a muscular arm around her neck. He glared at Logan, daring him to come closer. Grateful that Fiona had taken the frozen blood, he’d have to abandon the rest of the bags. His bargaining chip for his escape was thankfully still breathing, albeit on her way to death. Still, he dangled her in front of the Alpha.

“Good dog,” he jeered. “That’s right. Look what I’ve got here.”

Logan hit the floor frozen as he watched the vampire lift Wynter into the air by her throat
. His vision. Oh Goddess, no.
He heard and smelled Dimitri and Jake approaching and barked, warning them not to proceed.

“Amazing how responsive animals are when given the proper motivation? Look at your mate. Like a docile puppy,” he whispered in Wynter’s ear.

Wynter’s eyes flew open. She recognized the three wolves before her but was unable to speak. As the life drained from her body, she wished she could tell Logan one more time that she loved him, but she couldn’t utter even a hushed word. Struggling, she mouthed, ‘I love you’. Tears fell from her eyes. She hoped he’d find another mate someday, be happy. There was nothing he could do. Even if the vampire released her, she was dying.

Logan transformed to man. His eyes bored into the demon that held his mate.

“Give her to me now,” he demanded. Logan recognized the vampire as the one from the club with Devereoux, yet he let no hint of recollection show on his face. A shadow of doubt crept into his head. Just how far was Devereoux involved in this mess?

“What makes you think that’s going to happen, wolf? I’ve got Dr. Ryan. I plan to walk out of here, get on that boat…”

“And what boat might that be? My boat?”

“Fiona…she’s waiting,” he stammered.

“She’s gone.” The chinks in the vampire’s arrogant armor became apparent. Fiona must have betrayed him as well.

“Liar!” Étienne screamed.

“Jake, take Zeke, go after her. She can’t have gone far,” Logan commanded.

The walls closed in around the vampire. Choices dwindling, he’d have to fight his way out of the cabin and take the Alpha’s boat to shore. How hard could it be to get out of this godforsaken swamp, anyway? Fiona would surely be waiting for him. Without his brilliant mind, she’d never get what she wanted from the virus.

“My mate. Give her to me now, and I’ll grant you mercy.” Logan’s cold voice resonated throughout the cabin. Dimitri lowered his head.

“I’ll give her to you,” he smiled. The lilt of his voice wavered in preparation for what he was about to do.

Étienne was a great fighter, he thought. A mere wolf could not challenge him. Wynter’s blood had charged his system. He’d created her, and her special blood now ran through him, making him stronger than any supernatural. As soon as he tasted the Alpha’s blood, the lupine vitality would flow into his veins making him nearly invincible.

Logan tensed in preparation, waiting on the vampire to drop Wynter. He’d show mercy all right. He’d stake him quickly as opposed to tearing him apart limb by limb and then decapitating him.

“Mine,” he growled.

“Not anymore.” Before Logan could charge, Étienne extended a large claw. As if slitting the throat of a farm animal, he slashed it across Wynter’s throat. Her eyes bulged right before he tossed her to the floor.

“No!” Logan screamed. As he leapt into the air, he transformed into wolf. Flying directly at the vampire, he lodged his teeth into the vampire’s neck.

Étienne flailed at the wolf, digging his claws up into Logan’s gut. Eviscerating the Alpha, he tore open the fur. Blood sprayed onto the floor. An enormous burn flared inside Logan yet he refused to release the vampire. He’d killed his mate. No death or torture would appease the revenge he sought. No matter what pain he felt, he’d kill him.

Dimitri transformed to human, scooping Wynter into his arms.

“Wynter, please, oh Goddess,” he cried at the sight.

Her pale skin was split open laterally, exposing her trachea’s cartilage. He frantically pinched the skin together. Tearing a swathe of cloth from her shirt, he applied pressure to the wound. A sob escaped his lips as he realized it was too late. Logan would never recover from her death, nor would he. Helplessly, he continued to try to stop the bleeding as her heartbeat slowed.

Logan saw Dimitri out of the corner of his eye with his mate. The vision of Wynter dying played out before him. As the vampire shoved his hand up further into his abdomen, he summoned every power he’d been given as Alpha. Strength. Perseverance. Domination. Logan concentrated, focusing his powerful jaw muscles and forced them downward. The crushing pressure sliced through the tendons and muscled tissue, tearing at the vampire’s carotid. Wrenching backward, his beast broke away taking the dark flesh with him.

Blood spewed wildly as the vampire stumbled forward, still attempting to leave the cabin. Logan, gravely injured, shifted back to human. Enraged beyond reason, Logan lunged onto Étienne’s back wrapping his arm around his already wounded neck. With every ounce of energy he had left, he pressed his knee into Étienne’s back, forcing him onto the floor. With a final twist of his arms, he snapped the vampire’s neck. Fighting for breath, Logan’s beast was unsatisfied. He’d show no mercy. As the vampire’s remains twitched on the ground, his eyes searched the room. Stretching to reach the broken chair, he tore off a shard and drove it into Étienne’s heart.

Logan roared in agony, turning to Dimitri. While the shift had healed the gaping hole in his abdomen, his heart felt as if it had been decimated. The grief on Dimitri’s face confirmed what he’d already known. Wynter was dead. He dropped to the floor on his hands and knees, sobbing. Taking her into his arms, Logan gently cradled his mate.

Fiona leapt from the boat. A few more feet and she’d drive to safety. She knew they were hot on her trail, but she also knew that she was still a few steps ahead of them, as always. Stupid wolves. They always assumed that mere muscle would allow them to lead. Maybe she’d never win a physical challenge, but it was just a matter of time before she had every last wolf begging at her feet. Revenge would be sweet. She’d infect them all with the virus. Then she’d be their savior, whether they liked it or not.

Fiona grabbed the laptop bag and hoisted the small cryo-freezer onto the dirt. Heavy as it was, she only had about a hundred feet to travel through the brush before she reached the small clearing. Shoving the boat adrift with her foot, she set out on her journey. Her eyes darted from side to side. It was quiet. Too quiet, she noted. Not even a cricket could be heard. But she kept on her path, only fifty more feet and she’d be at the car.

With a whoosh, branches split before her eyes. It was dark but she could make out a figure in the moonlight. She sniffed. Vampire. Adrenaline rushed as her mind raced. Had Étienne created more vampires and not told her? He’d been privy to the car’s location. She fought to calm her nerves. Why should she fear a vampire? She’d killed many of them while Étienne watched. This was just one more. She crouched in the brush, tore off a stiff branch and began to whittle it into a sharp stake with her claws.

The tall masculine shadow deliberately and confidently tramped toward her until the light of his eyes became apparent. She gasped at the sight of the ancient one. Léopold Devereoux. No, not him. How could he have found her? Like a frightened rabbit, she froze in the darkness, awaiting his approach, hoping he wouldn’t see her.

“Ah, I found you,” his smooth voice called into the crisp night air. Nearly at her feet, the dark angel loomed. His beautiful but deadly presence resounded in the forest like a drum roll before an execution.

“Petite louve, I smell it. The putrid stink of your evil permeates the air. So familiar am I with the scent,” he told her. “You like a chase, no? I assure you this is one you’ll not win.”

With preternatural speed, he flew to Fiona, snatching her up by her throat. He allowed her feet to remain on the ground as he shook her like a dog with its toy.

“You like to play with vampires? My vampires,” he growled. With a flick, he threw her onto the damp earth.

Fiona rebounded, crab-walking backwards, dragging her bottom along the dirt.

“No, Étienne, he came to me freely,” she claimed.

“He cannot come to you freely, because he belongs to me,” Léopold explained coldly, brushing a weed from his coat sleeve. “And for this you shall die. The only decision to be made is if I should kill you myself? Or perhaps I should let your own tear you to shreds? Such choices.”

Léopold smiled casually as the two large male wolves, Jake and Zeke, padded forward. He carefully considered his decision as Fiona sat before him awaiting her fate. His lovely little Dr. Ryan had been tortured by her and Étienne. That alone would have been enough to warrant her death. But the little bitch had gone and killed a wolf using his vampires to do it.

With a glance to the mud, he’d chosen. Oh how he hated to get his new leather shoes soiled.

“The research, the samples. You’ll never get them,” she stalled, pushing onto her feet.

“You are a devilish schemer aren’t you?” he laughed. “A shame you have no discipline. But don’t worry your pretty little head. I plan to rectify that right now.”

Léopold rushed forward, yanking her upward. He tore open her collar, exposing her long neck. The moonlight glinted off his white fangs right before they pierced her flesh. Her legs flailed, kicking into the night. Neither Jake nor Zeke moved one inch to intervene. Throwing his head backwards, he spat her blood into the grass and tossed her to the wolves.

Her body flinched as she stole looks between the wolves right before they attacked. Barely a scream could be heard as they ripped her flesh until she was no more.

Léopold retrieved a crisp white handkerchief and dabbed at his chin. How he hated messy killings. But responsibility and duty drove his actions. Meting out punishment was never easy, but he watched in pleasure as the wolves executed their own. She’d been a blight who’d caused quite enough trouble. Like the virus she sought to propagate, she’d been eradicated.

As Jake transformed in front of him, he gave Léopold a nod in acknowledgement. Not sure what to make of the vampire, he and Zeke got to work, disposing of Fiona’s remains. After they’d fed the alligators, Jake snatched up the laptop so he could give it to Logan.

Léopold strode over to the cooler and flipping it open, saw bags of blood. He tore them open and quickly surmised that it belonged to the Alpha’s mate. As he emptied the last of the crimson fluid into the swamp, a hint of dread registered. He sniffed out into the bayou. So much fresher than the samples, it permeated his olfactory senses, exciting unadulterated rage. Wynter’s blood. The call of death sang into the night.

“I can save her,” Léopold uttered softly. He watched as the grieving Alpha rocked his mate. Like an animal that had lost one of his own, the wolf refused to release the body.

Dimitri leaned against the wall, his head in his hands. Unlike the Alpha, who was utterly despondent, he peered over to the imposing vampire.

“Devereoux, you need to get outta here. Wyn, she’s…” Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

Although wolves were generally immortal, lethal wounds to the neck effectively killed them. While Wynter’s heartbeat was faint, she’d be dead within minutes and shifting was no longer an option. Nothing could be done. As the minutes ticked by, Dimitri had watched his Alpha care for his mate, tell her he loved her. Last words. Last caresses.

“But I can save her, wolf,” Léopold persisted.

Logan slowly lifted his head and caught sight of the vampire standing in the doorway. “What?” he choked.

“Alpha, you know my blood can heal wolves.” Léopold proceeded cautiously. The Alpha, immersed in his bereavement, could attack.

“She’s too far gone; you and I both know that. I can barely hear her heartbeat. The rattle in her lungs has stopped. Please,” Logan begged, tears streaming from his eyes. His voice broke into a cry. “I need to say goodbye. She’s going to leave me. My mate…he killed her.”

“Please listen,” Léopold pleaded. “Think about how vampires are created. In the final moments of our deaths, when the soul teeters between the planes of both the living and the dead, one can be snatched from death’s grip, born anew. Wynter, she rests in the thin veil that separates us from the other side. You must let me try.”

Logan considered Devereoux’s explanation. He’d never in his long life heard of a vampire giving their gift to a wolf. He knew that when they created their own, the child belonged to the sire. Wynter would never want to belong to any other man but him. After the scene in the club, Léopold was far from her favorite person. How would she feel about accepting his blood into her body, taking him on as her sire? Yet, selfishly, Logan carefully weighed the offer. He loved Wynter so much; needed his mate alive. How far would he go to save her?