Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2) (27 page)

BOOK: Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2)
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When her fist made connection with his jaw, she knew it was time to move in for the kill. She rushed him, putting all her weight into her attack. As he stumbled into the wall, he smacked his head off a stud.

With brutal efficiency she tore at his throat with her teeth. Blood spurted, coating her mouth. She felt his life ebbing away with each pound of his weakening heart.

Amidst the thrill of the kill, the throbbing ache in her stomach was a mild nuisance. She dismissed it along with the other nagging pains she’d accumulated.

The ache blossomed into excruciating agony.

D died with a vicious smile as his hand released its death grip on the knife he’d embedded into her stomach. He’d managed to yank the knife down and tear a gaping wound into her flesh. She stared at the handle, trying to comprehend the sight. It’d been part of the cutlery set she’d used with her meal. He must have grabbed it early on when she’d shoved him to the floor.

Furious that he’d gotten in one last hit before dying she jerked it from her flesh and hurled it at the wall. The knife slammed into the stud. The handle quivered from the force of her throw.

She ripped off her torn shirt and used it to wipe away the seeping blood around her ragged flesh. For another race, it would’ve been best to leave the knife in her side. Her accelerated healing would work against her, though. She shuddered at the thought of tearing the blade out of her gut after she’d healed around it.

Before the blood obscured her view, she saw the two-inch gash from her belly button down. Sylvia balled up the shirt and applied pressure to her stomach hoping to stanch the flow, at least until the healing started. She glanced down at D’s body and almost gave into the temptation to kick him.

Lousy son of a…

She stalked towards the door, which he’d been kind enough to leave open, and went to find a bathroom. The chain stopped her short and almost choked her as the collar dug into her throat. She’d forgotten about it. Anger and rage boiling over, she reversed direction and stomped to the bed. Not stopping to think, she slammed her fists into the bed frame again and again.

The satisfying crack of metal breaking finally stopped her. Panting heavily, she removed the chain from the broken and twisted steel.

Letting the links trail behind her, she cursed her stupidity as she pressed harder into her gut wound. Pounding on the bed had caused her stomach to bleed profusely. Judging from her now wobbly walk, she couldn’t afford to lose any more.

The effort costing her dearly, she forced one foot in front of the other as she weaved toward the kitchen. A phone, she needed a phone. Call a mage, teleport her to a hospital. Stitches wouldn’t help, but a blood transfusion would hit the spot right about now.

In the kitchen she leaned heavily against the wall before stumbling to the counter. Strength waning, she glanced around for a phone. If he only had a cell phone, she was screwed. Energy was in short supply now. A return trip to the bedroom to frisk his dead body wasn’t possible. She rested her head on the counter for a moment and stared at the blood she’d streaked on the clean white surface.

White. Red. White. Red.

The urge to shut her eyes, rest for a while and simply forget whispered to her. Told her the pain would go away if she slept for a while. Just a small snooze. Her eyes fluttered down, and she almost gave in.

Panic assaulted her and demanded she open her eyes.

Don’t sleep! Don’t give up!

How long would she be out cold? Would she wake from it?

Derek didn’t know she was fine.

Or as fine as I can be with a gaping hole in my stomach
, she thought wryly.

Prying her eyes open, she turned her head slowly and saw what she had missed in her first once-over of the kitchen – a phone hidden under the top cupboards. She flung her arm out to snag the cord and pull it towards her. The handset clattered onto the countertop, and she knocked the phone off its hook.

Hazy fog drifted through her mind. A number pad, each square so precise with bright white numbers. She touched one of the little squares, changing the white to red. Blinking at the colours, she tried to make sense of them.

Why did she need a phone? Didn’t she have a cell? What was so important about
this
phone?

A strident beeping cut through the fog, and she latched onto the noise, a lifeline in the sea of pain. Derek, she had to call Derek. She couldn’t remember why. Just knew she had to call him. While her mind couldn’t recall his number, her fingers knew it by heart. She never used speed dial to call him, liked the intimacy of knowing his phone number.

“What?” Derek’s voice drifted to her.

She didn’t have the energy to grab the phone and lift it to her ear.

Tried to tell him where she was, except she didn’t know. Wanted to say she was safe, but the words wouldn’t come out.

She whispered, “Derek…” as her world dimmed.

She tried. Tried so hard to stay conscious.

Blood loss pulled her down into the darkness.

Distantly she heard her mate yell her name as she slumped to the floor.

Chapter Thirty-Three


Get Markus on
the phone!” Derek yelled to Zmitro. He turned to Isaac. “Get one of our tech guys on the phone. Trace this damn call. It’s Sylvia, but she’s not answering me.”

He paced the sitting room floor, fear and frustration consuming him. He ignored the chatter from his Deltas, trusting them to carry out his orders. If there was any pushback, he knew they could handle it.

Derek tried again to locate Sylvia through the Alpha link and the flickering lifemate bond. A hazy impression of her outside of the city. Somewhere north. Nothing concrete, though, and he was ready to rip someone’s head off.

A faint tingle of energy washed over him. Pinpointing the magic was simple, and he strode over to the couch seconds before Markus appeared. In other circumstances, he would’ve enjoyed the startled curse from his friend. Rarely did anything rattle Markus, and he’d given up trying years ago. Now, his mind was too preoccupied to care.

“Sylvia called. She’s not answering me, but I’m having the tech guys trace the call. Once they have the location, I want you to teleport me there.”

“If I don’t know the area, I can’t teleport you there. You know that,” Markus stated.

“Then find a portal through Fae. I don’t care how you do it. Just do it,” Derek demanded.

Shocked gasps came from Heather and Kurt, unable to believe he’d issued an order to this mage. Normally he would’ve been polite, would’ve demanded nicely and pretended to give the option of refusing.

Today, he didn’t care.

Either Markus obeyed him, or they would come to blows.

“Easy, my friend,” Markus said calmly as he clapped Derek on the shoulder.

The subtle pressure warned him Markus would only let him push so far. He grunted and backed down. His friend would do everything he could to help, even bending or breaking the rules.

“We’ll wait until we get confirmation on her location. Then we’ll discuss how to get to her. I have a few mages we can take with us. They’ll be able to help with the porting of your people if need be.” Derek nodded, recognizing the truth in Markus’ words.

“We’ve got her!” Isaac yelled. “The techs have traced the call, and they’re mass texting us the GPS coordinates.”

Every cell phone in the room went off as they received the information. Heart pounding, Derek checked the text message, hoping he’d recognize the area. Disbelieving, he read the text three times before it sank in.

She was near the town of Timmins, close to the compound. The kidnapper must’ve purchased or rented a house near his work.

“Markus, you able to get us back there?” As long as he was within a few kilometers, he’d be able to shift to wolf form and sniff out Sylvia. Her scent was embedded in his soul. He’d find her.

“Of course. I studied the area before we left,” Markus replied. “I’ll contact the other mages who were with us. Victor and Jackson can port two other people each, so choose who’s coming. I’ll take just you, Derek.  It’ll allow me to port her out with you.”

“Zmitro, Isaac, Emma, and Davis, you’re with us. The rest of you stay here.” He saw the disappointment in the other Deltas and understood their frustration at being left behind.

If pep talks were a part of his nature, he would’ve given them one. However, he was more likely than not to growl and tell them to deal with it, so he kept quiet.

A polite knock at the front door had Nadia scurrying to answer it. Derek’s back was to the entrance, but he didn’t need to turn to know Victor and Jackson had appeared. He was familiar with both their scents.

Without wasting any time, Markus gave them a quick rundown. Nodding, they walked over to the smaller group of werewolves waiting for their transportation. Derek was about to give the go-ahead for the ports when Nadia pushed a backpack into his hands.

“To hold everyone’s clothes once you’re there, boss,” she said, her expression solemn and drawn with worry.

Derek leaned over and gave Nadia a quick hug, “We’ll get her back.”

He slung the backpack over one shoulder.

He nodded to Markus, signaling his readiness. A familiar and distasteful prickle of energy washed over him. He stoically suffered through it, keeping his mind focused on Sylvia. The past twenty-four hours without her had been hell. She’d be alright though. She had to be. Sylvia had already proven her fortitude in surviving everything the scientists had done to her. One insane fucker wouldn’t beat her.

Derek blinked and gained his bearings. He listened for any nearby sounds. Nothing reached his ears except for movement from the small group with him. Markus’ teleportation spell had landed them at the compound clearing.

The dilapidated shack was even worse than before. In fact, it wasn’t recognizable as a shack at all, as the roof had flown through the air, landing several meters from the massive chasm in the ground. The rickety walls sprawled in the dirt with chunks of woods haphazardly strewn about. The site of destruction stirred up his anger.

Hadn’t Sylvia gone through enough?

Stripping quickly, he stuffed his clothes into the backpack and left it on the ground. The other pack members also removed their clothes. Once they’d filled the backpack, Derek handed it to Victor. He felt a small, petty thrill of satisfaction making Victor the pack mule. He still hadn’t forgiven the mage and was doubtful he would. Maybe in a few hundred years.

With a sneer at Victor, he embraced the change. Bones snapped and realigned, muscles ripped and reformed, and fur coated his now four-legged body. Taking a moment to orient himself, he sniffed the air to pick up Sylvia’s scent. He moved away from the hole, which still carried her lingering scent, then sneezed to clear his nose.

“The road is this way.” Markus took the lead with Derek on his heels.

Weaving between the trees crowding the overgrown path, they soon found the gravel road. Glancing over, Derek saw his pack emerging from the forest. Immediately they all sniffed the air, trying to find Sylvia’s scent.

A deep inhale picked up a faint trail heading to the right. Knowing the rest would follow, he loped off and became a blur of dark gray fur.

Forest soon gave way to barely tamed wilderness, and gravel changed to asphalt as they neared the small town. The houses had an abandoned feel to them, wild grass overtaking the lawns and leaves coating the ground. Some had lights still blazing even in the bright afternoon daylight, as if no one bothered turning them off before they left. Several had cars parked in the driveway with leaves piled high on the roof and windshield.

The compound had used this town. Its workers had lived here to avoid nosy neighbours. A small corner store with a gas station and an On The Run Tim Horton’s were suspiciously empty. No attendant behind the counter and the closed sign turned.

Deserted.

Anyone not part of the compound had probably fled after the raid. News must have travelled. He briefly wondered if they’d relocated to another town, another compound, as the Coterie had evidence this wasn’t the only experimental facility.

He dismissed it from his mind as Sylvia’s scent grew stronger. There! An older, 1950s style house with green siding and gray trim set further back from the road. Blinds drawn, with no movement inside. A black mini-coup sat in the driveway, no leaves lingering on it. Proof someone had used it recently.

Sniffing around it, he confirmed Sylvia had been in the car
.
He also confirmed the kidnapper had been with her. Derek growled, wanting to rip the bastard apart.

Moving at a dead run towards the house, he smashed into an invisible shield. He flew backwards, landed on his back and skidded a few more feet. Picking himself up, he shook his body, checking for any damage. He’d forgotten about the mage shield dampening Sylvia’s location. Looks like it also kept out unwanted guests

Cocking his head to the side, he glared at Markus.

“Yes, yes,” the mage said promptly. “If you’d waited a moment, I would’ve taken the shield down before you tried to kill yourself. Stand back. It could be trapped.”

Derek sat on his haunches and watched as Markus tested the shielding. Magic slithered over his fur, making it stand on end. A low growl rumbled in his chest, one he wasn’t able to contain, as he forced himself to stay still. He didn’t want to distract the mage, since it could cause the magic to go wild. Only once had he seen wild magic when he was a young boy, and it’d destroyed a small town.

“Ah, good, it’s relatively weak and no traps are weaved into it. Give me a sec and I’ll have it dismantled.” Markus’ eyes glowed bright.

He went through a few motions, muttered a few words to gather energy then released it. The glow in his eyes faded, and he dropped his hands. A slight nod from Markus was all Derek needed.

Racing to the door, he slammed into it with his shoulder, trying to break the wood. A loud crack echoed as it shuddered in its frame. The door stayed firmly shut, though.

“Holy shit, Derek, let me open the door before you break your bones.” Markus rushed to his side then muttered, “Damn impatient moron.”

Derek curled his lip, exposing his teeth at Markus who blatantly ignored him while he probed the door. He wanted to do everything in his power to save Sylvia, to be her knight in shining armour, not wait for someone else to help. His gaze drifted over to the side window, and he wondered how hard he’d need to hit it in order to break the glass. The click of the lock spared him from finding out. A slow creak signaled the door opening.

He chuffed Markus a thank you, shouldered his friend out of the way and padded through the entrance.

Check the rooms, secure the house. I have a bead on Sylvia.
Derek sent the mental command to his packmates. He didn’t bother trying to communicate with the mages, as they would follow their own protocols. As long as they stayed out of his way, he didn’t care what they did. They were back-up.

Loping down the narrow hallway, knocking over a side table as he went, he found a small room filled with Sylvia’s scent… and her blood. His heart stopped as the coppery smell assaulted his sensitive nose. Eyes roving the room, he noted the destroyed walls, the ruined mattress, a shattered plate on the floor and the body. He padded to the body, relief flooding him as he saw it was a male.

A quick sniff confirmed his identity – the kidnapper. Resisting the urge to piss on him, he turned and followed the heavenly scent of his mate.

The trail led him to a small kitchen. A gleaming stainless steel fridge and stove dominated the room, making it appear even smaller. Cupboards lined one wall and the sink was situated under a double-pane window.

Thoughts scattered when he glanced at the floor. His beautiful Sylvia was sprawled on the cold tile, blood pooling around her. His sensitive hearing picked up her beating heart and the faint rasp of her breath. Nearly crying with joy, he changed forms and knelt beside her.

“Derek.” Sylvia’s eyes fluttered open. “I killed him. I killed the bastard.”

The savage satisfaction in her voice made him smile. She’d vanquished her own dragon.

“Markus!” he bellowed.

She may have destroyed her enemy, but she wasn’t safe yet. A quick once-over showed him the ragged wound in her stomach. She’d stanched the bleeding, but judging from her pallor, she’d lost a lot of blood.

A hand clasped his shoulder, and before he could blink, Markus teleported them to one of the downtown hospitals that dealt with werewolves. Nurses rushed towards them, asking questions and assessing the situation.

A gurney appeared, and Derek gently placed Sylvia on it. One of the nurses wheeled it into the nearby emergency waiting room. Not surprisingly, after a courtesy once-over, the doctors left to tend to the more seriously wounded. She didn’t require stitches, as the wound was already healing, just a few bags of blood.

“Alpha.” He turned to see a small pretty blonde nurse holding out a robe.

He’d forgotten about his nakedness. Accepting the robe, he nodded curtly and shrugged it on. It was tight in the shoulders and barely reached mid-thigh, but at least he was halfway decent.

Attention focused on Sylvia, he watched as the nurse poked an IV into her inner wrist and taped it into place. The bag of blood hung from the pole and dripped down the tube. The needle itself was coated in silver to stop the body from rejecting it while she healed.

She moaned in pain and reached for the irritation. Derek moved to her side and caught her hand before she could remove the IV.

“Stop. It’s there to help you.” His voice was low but no less commanding. While he hated pushing his Alpha authority into his words, he saw no other choice. Tying her down wasn’t an option, and she needed to leave the IV alone.

Smoothing her hair, he finally noticed dried blood on her mouth and chin. He couldn’t see any cuts, and a quick sniff told him it wasn’t hers. Not wanting her to wake with that bastard’s blood on her, he walked to the bathroom to wet a washcloth.

Gently, lovingly, he wiped away the evidence of her victory. He had to rinse the cloth a few times before he’d finished cleaning her face. Smiling, he bent over and placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth then on the tip of her nose. It amazed him that this fierce, passionate woman was his, and she wanted to be with him.

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