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Authors: Tracey H. Kitts

Sex Symbol (31 page)

BOOK: Sex Symbol
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Before he could respond, I heard an awful sound that let me know someone had finally made a move. Maxwell dove toward Eramus and I gasped as he leapt out of the way. He hadn’t missed him entirely though. A long scratch was visible on Eramus’ ribs. Maxwell had drawn first blood. Eramus backhanded him, sending Maxwell flying as he yelped like an injured dog.

The gathered werewolves stepped back to allow them more room. Was it just me or did they look afraid to even touch their leader? Maxwell stood up slowly and I realized his shoulder was dislocated.

Holy shit. Had one hit from Eramus really done that much damage? My confidence in surviving the night began to soar and the frantic beating of my heart slowed just a bit.

Maxwell jammed his shoulder into place with a crunch and I suddenly felt sick again.

“Is that it?” he growled.

Maxwell leapt at him again, and Eramus opened up a gash across his chest. Maxwell was now bleeding badly, but he continued to fight. Having to watch didn’t bother me as much as I’d expected. Maybe it was because Eramus was winning. Or maybe the werewolf blood mixed in my veins had weakened the effects of the violence.

All things considered I felt I was handling things pretty well. That is until Eramus jammed his claws into Maxwell’s chest and tore out his heart.

I screamed like someone had just been killed in front of me because…well, they had. It was awful. Eramus held the heart high and the crowd roared their approval. That is, all except me.

Maxwell had to die. I knew that going in. But that didn’t make it any easier to watch. No way was I prepared to witness what happened next either. Eramus flung the heart toward the pack. Someone jumped up and caught it in their mouth!

I fought the urge to be sick as Eramus turned to me and I did my best to ask a question with my eyes. Would we be all right now? Tears blurred my vision. Not because I mourned for Maxwell, but because I could feel the violent energy of the pack growing. I feared we would not be allowed to leave as Crazy Wolf had promised.

There was silence all around, only broken by the sounds of growls and gnashing of teeth from the crowd. Maxwell hadn’t had time to turn back to human as he’d fallen to the ground. His body lay at Eramus’ clawed feet.

The crowd drew closer to us and Crazy Wolf pushed me behind him.

“Get her out of here,” Eramus yelled.

He must have been talking to Oz, because that’s who pulled me by the arm and back several feet through the crowd.

Though my vision was blurred with tears, I watched as the crowd closed in on Eramus, knowing that I couldn’t save him. I had never felt so helpless in my life.

I tried to pull free from Oz, but he put his arm around my waist and lifted me up, carrying me further into the woods.

“No,” he said. “There is another way. He’s not alone.”

Crazy Wolf moved to stand at his side and that was the last I saw as a wall of werewolves leapt toward them.

“Come on then!” Eramus yelled. “Those who take his side will share his fate. I’ll have your trophies as well!”

Ozzy had pulled me all the way back to the semi-safety of the trees.

“What? What does that mean? What’s he talking about?”

“Their skin.”

“What?!”

Ozzy swung up onto one of the lower limbs of a tree before reaching back down for me. “Do you think you can make it?”

I swung myself up with less effort than I’d expected. Maybe if I survived all this I’d get used to my extra strength.

As Oz and I crouched on the branch he asked, “Does Eramus have other skins in his house?”

I remembered the ones in his room, one of which had belonged to the werewolf who turned him. “Yes.”

“Then he’ll add these to his collection. That’s what he’s saying.” Oz started climbing higher as he spoke and I tried to ignore the sounds of chaos coming from the clearing. “It’s a great insult for a werewolf to be killed so quickly that they can’t transform back to human. That’s what it represents when you take their skin. It says that you took them down so fast that they weren’t even a challenge.”

“Oh.”

Well, I guess that made sense. As we reached the upper branches I saw that Ozzy had several weapons here. High-powered rifles strapped down to the branches as well as a few other guns. He handed me a shotgun.

“Aim this at anything that comes close to the tree and blow it to hell.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Put a silver bullet in anything that isn’t Eramus.”

“Don’t shoot Crazy Wolf,” I said quickly.

“Fine. Anything that isn’t Eramus or Crazy Wolf. There’s extra ammunition in that pouch above your head. If I yell, you hand it to me. Got it?”

I nodded my agreement, but truthfully I felt numb. Ozzy on the other hand seemed about as excited as I’d ever seen him while I was scarcely aware of the fighting that had broken out around me. Shrieks echoed through the night, as sounds of tearing flesh reached my ears. I couldn’t tell who was winning, but I could see Eramus cutting a bloody trail through the others.

Shots rang out and several werewolves fell dead in their tracks thanks to Oz. I was so afraid that he’d accidentally hit Eramus that I found it hard to watch. However, I couldn’t turn away. What if these were his last moments and I didn’t have the courage to look? This was all too much for me. It was as if my emotions were shutting down. The only part that didn’t feel completely numb was my heart, because it ached at the thought of losing Eramus.

Just when my hands had stopped shaking, I heard an awful howl. Instinctively I knew it was Eramus. Through the connection we now shared, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was hurt.

“Are there silver bullets in this gun?” I asked, holding up the shotgun.

“Yes.”

Ozzy didn’t look at me, but fired another shot into the crowd as he spoke. Another werewolf bit the dust.

“Where are the extra rounds?”

“In the second bag.”

Before he could react to my question further, I leapt down from the tree. I hit the ground with a rolling dive, flinging the ammo bag over my shoulder. I hadn’t even been aware that I could do something like that, but there would be time to be impressed with myself later. My only concern was getting to Eramus. If I couldn’t transform and tear them apart with claws and teeth, then I would use the shotgun and my bare hands.

I ran back to the clearing in time to see Eramus throw a smaller wolf to the ground and tear out his throat. The injury to his side looked deeper and I assumed this attacker had made it so. I held the gun tightly; however, I was frozen to the spot. This was only the second time I had seen Eramus transformed and the first time I had seen him fight as a werewolf. He was terrifying.

I could see Crazy Wolf close by, leaving a trail of broken bodies in his wake. The way he crushed those who stood in his way was brutal to say the least. But it was nothing to compare with Eramus’ tactics. Those who attacked him directly, he tore apart.

I had never seen anything like it and stood rooted to the spot until someone jumped in front of me. Mrs. Morrison knocked me flat of my ass before I could react.

“See, this is why a half-blood will never be a threat to a true werewolf,” she drawled. Her face was now lengthening and her hands were grotesquely deformed. She didn’t look big and bad like the men had when they turned. She just looked ugly.

I rose to my feet and shoved the barrel of the gun underneath her nose with reflexes that stunned me. Her eyes widened just before I pulled the trigger, splattering those nearby with bone fragments and brain matter.

I looked up as Eramus slashed his way through two more wolves before I came to my senses.

“What are you doing out here?” he yelled.

“I can’t leave you here, Eramus. If we die, we die together.”

Not waiting for his answer I charged into the crowd, screaming a battle cry that reflected all the horror I felt. I shot the first werewolf who charged me. I reloaded with my newfound speed and cut down four more, blasting their legs from beneath them, leaving Eramus to finish them off. I shot anyone who attacked me or Eramus, hoping like hell that my aim was true and I didn’t hit anyone on our side by accident. It wasn’t as if the good guys were clearly labeled. If they made a move to hurt either of us, it was their ass.

Crazy Wolf moved to my other side as a shot rang out so close it made my ears ring. Ozzy was still watching out for me from the trees. It was complete and utter chaos. All I could do was scream as I continued to fire into the oncoming werewolves. Several more came at me, and I shot them like they were nothing. All I could think about was saving Eramus and getting out of there alive.

For the next several minutes I lost all control. Maybe it was the werewolf blood taking over. I don’t know. All I did know for sure was that these people were trying to kill the man I loved and I’d be damned if I let them. I had lost too much in my life, been hurt too often to turn my back on the one man I trusted. The one man I knew wouldn’t have left me to fend for myself. I had no choice but to stay by his side. He would have done no less for me.

Several minutes later as the smoke cleared and the growling subsided, I realized we’d won. I looked around to find Eramus and was once again struck with fear. After all that had just happened you’d think the sight of my boyfriend would have been a comfort. But in his werewolf form and covered with blood, he was terrifying.

He fell to one knee and I cried out, running toward him, dismissing all thoughts of fear. This was my Eramus and he was hurt.

He looked down at me, because even from his knees he was taller. Despite my best effort, I trembled. He was losing a lot of blood. A cold knot of dread began to form in the pit of my stomach. What if he died anyway? What if after all of this it wasn’t enough?

Eramus reached out, putting his large clawed hand on my shoulder.

I found it difficult to meet his eyes, but forced myself to do so. If he was dying, I didn’t want all of my fears to show. His muzzle was covered with blood from all he’d had to tear his way through. There were lots of claw marks over his body, but he stopped me when I tried to examine them.

“It’s all right, Lucy,” he said as softly as his deep voice would allow. “They’ll heal.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

I fell into his arms, not caring anymore about the blood. I needed to be close to him. To know that we had survived this.

“It’s all right,” he repeated. “We’re still here. We made it.”

Later I would probably have nightmares about what I’d seen tonight. But at that moment I was grateful for even the possibility of sleeping again. We were alive!

Ozzy was back in the clearing now with us, surveying the damage. Apparently we hadn’t killed everyone as I’d thought. But between us we came awfully close.

“There were over two hundred werewolves here tonight and not enough bodies to account for them,” Oz said.

“Some of them ran,” Crazy Wolf said.

He looked pretty banged up too, but not terribly so. The werewolves who had survived appeared to have been on our side. I’d guess there were maybe thirty or so.

“Guess you’re not left with much of a pack to run,” Crazy Wolf said. “Maxwell was sick. In the few years he had been our leader, he’d managed to corrupt the pack so much, I doubt anyone normal could have saved it, no matter how good their intentions.”

“You can help me rebuild it then,” Eramus said.

By that I took it that he wanted Crazy Wolf to remain second in command. Still in wolf form, Crazy Wolf smiled as he nodded his acceptance.

“Does anyone know where Maxwell is?” Crazy Wolf asked.

I pointed to the place where the former leader had fallen. Eramus rose and the three of them started walking toward his body.

“What are you going to do?” I called.

“Follow through on his threat,” Ozzy said, gesturing toward Eramus.

Realizing they meant to skin Maxwell, I fainted.

Chapter Thirty-One
Rest for the wicked

I awoke to the sound of running water. I was facedown on my bed, but had no idea how I’d gotten there. My last memory was of Ozzy, Eramus and Crazy Wolf about to relieve Maxwell of his fur. Just the thought made me feel sick.

“I’m sorry about the sheet,” Eramus said.

I rolled over to find him standing in the bathroom doorway, completely naked. Tonight wasn’t turning out so badly after all. He smiled, seeming to understand what had caught my attention.

“You were covered in blood so I took one of the spare sheets from the linen closet and put it over the bed. I hope you don’t mind.”

I sat up slowly and ran my hand over the sheet in question. “No. It’s an old one. Besides, I’d rather get blood on a sheet than my new comforter.”

He laughed. “Spoken like a true decorator.”

“No,” I corrected, “like a woman.”

“I thought you might like a bath.” His voice was soft and there was a kindness there I could not resist.

I rose slowly, making sure I was steady on my feet before trying to go further.

“Need help?”

He was already standing beside me when I answered, “No, I got it. What happened?”

“Um…when we went to skin Maxwell, you fainted.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything you had to see tonight. For everything you had to do.” He indicated my bloody clothes as he spoke. “I never meant for this to happen.”

I reached up and took his face in my hands. “None of us did. This was all Maxwell’s fault.”

“And that Morrison woman. She seemed to have a hand in quite a bit of it.”

I sat on the closed toilet seat and started removing my shoes. “Is it wicked of me to be glad I shot her?”

Eramus laughed as he adjusted the water. “No. She tried her best to ruin your life. Then when that didn’t appear to be working, she tried to kill you. I’d say you’re completely justified if you wanted to piss on her corpse.”

I tossed my boots onto the floor. “I’ll pass on the corpse pissing, but I’m glad I shot the bitch.”

As I noticed his size again I was glad I’d put in a garden tub. It was one of those things I’d second-guessed during the remodeling. But if Eramus intended to join me, which I figured he did, we’d need the space. He turned around and caught me smiling.

BOOK: Sex Symbol
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