Tethers (26 page)

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Authors: Claire Farrell

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Tethers
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The fight was deadly, but neither party seemed ready to lose. Every time I thought I had a clean shot at the wendigo, the pair would roll over, and I would barely avoid stabbing Icarus instead.

Phoenix almost managed to strike the wendigo, but it rolled out of Icarus’s grasp and ran off, limping.

“Ever feel like we’re the ones being driven somewhere?” I shouted at Phoenix as we made the chase with Icarus.

He grinned at me and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Enjoy the hunt instead of worrying so much!”

But a few minutes later, I almost tripped over a werewolf’s body. “Oh, my God!” I cried. “Phoenix!”

He joined me with Icarus, who sniffed his
packmate’s
body and let out a howl of rage. He dashed off, ignoring his own injuries.

“Wait,” Phoenix said. “He’s not hurt. There’s no blood.” He made a sound of surprise as he felt for a heartbeat. “There’s this, though.” He pulled at something and held it into the air. It was very familiar.

“A tranquilising dart?” I said. “What the hell is going on?”

He rose to his feet and flung the dart away in disgust. “Somebody doesn’t want us to catch the wendigo, Ava.”

“Then we had better hurry up and piss them off properly,” I snapped, irritated beyond measure. A mindless wendigo that couldn’t bear its own hunger was one thing; to actually want the creature to feast on innocent people was another.

“Be careful,” Phoenix said as we hurried after Icarus. “If they’re so desperate, we could be next to be hit.”

“We broadcasted this plan,” I said. “This wendigo’s master had to have known we were being here. Whoever it is might just be hunting
us
, Phoenix.”

His expression hardened. “We’re not so easy to kill.”

We passed yet another sleeping werewolf, soon followed by another.

“There might be more than one wendigo out here,” I said. “We could be led right into their den.”

“We’ll just have to kill them all,” he said coldly, and he was no longer Phoenix the kindly fae prince and Senate member. He was a fae hunter, a seeker of justice. I had watched him mete out that justice on his own mother without pity. I could only imagine what was going through his mind after finding out that we were being played.

For some reason, the anger rejuvenated me. I had been exhausted, but I hunted with fresh vigour. If we found the wendigo, we might actually find who had put the werewolves to sleep instead of helping us catch the real monster.

“We should have gotten the witch to make the bloody werewolves invisible,” I grumbled after a few minutes.

“Too hard, according to Ari. Maybe we’ll find somebody to teach her for next time.”

“‘Next time,’ he says,” I called out with an exaggerated groan.

Phoenix looked back at me with a beautiful smile, and my heart sang a little.

We soon found the wendigo again—or perhaps it found us. We came upon it shortly before Icarus did. We tried to corner it, but it kept trying to jump over our heads. When Phoenix managed to slice its undercarriage with his sword during one jump, the wendigo stopped trying. With blood seeping from the wound, the wendigo grew desperate to escape, but Icarus was furious. He moved sharply, catching the wendigo whenever it tried to run. The wendigo avoided the fight, but it was clear we had to be the aggressors.

I moved out of its line of sight, hoping to catch the creature off guard, but on high alert, it refused to keep its back turned to any of us for long. Phoenix impatiently dove in and tripped the creature with his sword, barely avoiding getting sliced open again. As though encouraged, Icarus flung himself at the wendigo, and the pair fought again. From the viciousness of the bites, I could tell it was a fight to the death.

Still, we couldn’t get a clean strike at the creature’s spine. To avoid the claws, Icarus kept trying to pin the wendigo by holding on to the back of its neck. When he pinned the creature, he used his weight to hold the animal down, leaving us with no room to make the killing strike.

Icarus shook the wendigo like a cat shaking a mouse. Although it appeared weakened, it still fought back, managing to slice at Icarus enough to loosen his bite. Phoenix flung another glass kylie into the air. Frightened, the wendigo sprang backward out of its path. It moved closer to me, and I ducked under its grasping claws. It moved on all fours and made to pounce again, but I sidestepped and kicked it right in the head. Dazed, it shook itself and dove out of the way as Icarus attacked again. For one of the few times in my life, I wished I were carrying a larger weapon.

Thinking clearly for a moment, I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled hard. Taking my cue, Phoenix repeated the action, and I hoped a werewolf was awake and close by to help. We were taking way too much time and energy trying to block the wendigo—it was time to finish the battle.

Phoenix shouted something unintelligible and wielded his sword to distract the wendigo. I jabbed with my blade to force the wendigo back. Icarus blindsided the wendigo, somehow tripping it and pinning the creature without using his entire weight. With his great big jaws, he flung the wendigo around. Dazed and stunned, the creature lay still long enough for Icarus to manoeuvre its form to make it easy for Phoenix to stab it. But as Phoenix moved in to join Icarus, a whizzing sound drew my attention. Before my brain could connect the sound to the cause, Icarus stiffened then collapsed to the ground in a slumber.

Chapter Twenty

When I turned around in horror, the paragon was standing there, a tranquiliser gun in hand. I wasn’t even surprised.

“Come,” Regis said to the wendigo. The creature obeyed, moving away from us and closer to the paragon. Regis was no demon.
So what the hell did he do to earn his place as a wendigo’s master?

I made to run at the paragon while he was sneering at Phoenix. But as soon as I took a step, Phoenix bellowed at me to stop.

“No, Ava! We can’t kill a paragon. Not even you. It’ll provoke a war.”

Damn stupid rules.
For a moment, I didn’t care if an army came. The paragon deserved to be punished for his crimes. “I’m not part of the Senate,” I said. “I’m part of something bigger.” And the Eleven spoke with me.

The paragon pointed the gun at me. “Don’t move,” he said, but there was a brief look of surprise in his eyes.

“You’re a murderer,” I spat.

“Aren’t we all? Like the werewolves who’ll so tragically turn on their biggest supporters. And the Senate who’ll panic at your deaths and execute the werewolves by morning.” He made a low whistle through his teeth that drew the wendigo’s attention. “Kill them both.”

The wendigo limped forward, but a movement behind the paragon drew my attention.

A woman dressed all in black had managed to slink behind the paragon unnoticed. He finally heard a movement and turned, but she karate-chopped his throat, wrapped her arms around his neck, and with a loud snap, broke his neck.

I stared, speechless, as the paragon’s body slumped to the ground. I hadn’t expected
that
.

The woman dropped her hood, revealing golden curls, and stretched. “Oh, that felt glorious.”

“You’re not supposed to kill paragons,” I said flatly.

She turned her curious gaze on me. “Well, as
I’m
a paragon, those rules don’t apply to me. Watch out!”

I turned in time to see the wendigo bearing down on me. I bent to one knee to avoid its claws then crouched lower to avoid its back legs. With one jump, I was back on my feet behind the creature. Phoenix impaled it on his sword, barely missing the spine. I sank my dagger into the creature, finishing the job. The animal loosed an unholy screech then crumpled. I was almost certain I saw something dark leave the body, and for an instant, I wondered if I could have cleansed the creature instead. But then I recalled the human it had once been had willingly eaten its family to gain the power a demon would afford it, and I decided almost dying myself wouldn’t have been worth saving a human that terrible.

“Rosa,” Phoenix was saying, looking completely baffled.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d see me again so soon.” Her voice sounded flirty, but a hard glint sparkled in her eye. “But promises are promises.”

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded, finding my voice again. “Thanks for the help and all, but who the hell are you? And how did you happen to be here tonight?”

A smile curved her lips. “I followed you. Well, technically, I’ve been following Phoenix.”

“Since I left?” he asked. “You came here after me?”

“Home just wasn’t any fun after all the fae went away,” she said with a playful pout. “Besides, I needed to make sure you’d keep your word.”

“What word? What’s she on about, Phoenix?” I asked crossly. I bloody well hated secrets.

“I’ve been asking Phoenix for a little help,” she said. “Although he agreed, he wasn’t keen, but as he can see, he needed me. Now he owes me a favour. So the werewolves better be ready when I need them. I dealt with this fool, so he won’t be bothering you again. Do we still have a deal, Phoenix?”

He refused to look at either of us. “Yes,” he said in a low voice.

“Excellent. I’ll have to clean up the body, but feel free to tell your Senate that there’s been a few changes. I’ll be the one they deal with from now on. And instead of the werewolves, however many other wendigo he has hidden away will die. The werewolves are no longer at risk as long as they remain a part of my army should I need them. Do you understand?”

Phoenix nodded, but he didn’t look pleased.

“Oh, come on,” she said softly. “We may have to work together soon. No point looking so glum. It’s over. The werewolves are safe, and I did what you couldn’t: killed the paragon who threatened them.”

I breathed heavily, dying to ask more questions yet wanting to gather as much information as I could from the reactions of the pair in front of me.

Rosa nodded at the prone werewolf. “I’m sure the sleeping dogs will wake soon. She can watch over him while you and I get rid of the body. Let’s be quick. We have a lot to catch up on, and I hear you have the
best
nightlife here.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Phoenix shook his head, and the look in his eye told me to listen, for a change.

When the two left, carrying the body of the paragon, I sat next to Icarus and used the walkie-talkie to let the others know the wendigo was dead. Shay organised a search for the missing werewolves in the meantime. Phoenix didn’t get back in time to help, but I stayed with the werewolves as they were transported back to base camp.

It had been a very long night. Val was feeling okay, but I was pretty sure she should have gotten stitches. Still, I didn’t want to argue with a pissed-off hellhound, half or no.

“Where’s Phoenix?” Peter asked as he shared a flask of tea with me.

“He had something to do,” I said.

“Must have been important if he left the werewolves alone to do it.”

“I don’t ask questions.” When he shot me a bemused look, I amended my words with, “Okay, I do ask, but I don’t get any answers. So we’re both in the dark.”

“I’m just glad the wendigo is dead,” he said. “The idea of it being human once makes my skin crawl.”

“Can you imagine? What kind of person would invite that darkness into their soul?”

He sighed. “I dunno. You heading home soon?”

“I was going to wait until the werewolves woke. They did so much of the work that it feels a bit shitty to leave them out here.”

“Well, you did say that Phoenix warned they would go crazy when they woke up from a tranquilised sleep. It’s better that we’re keeping our distance.”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you hurt or anything?”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

He leaned back. “Yeah, it really has.”

“Ava!” Val called from the ambulance nearby. “Is your phone switched off?”

I checked my pockets and groaned. “I must have dropped it out there.”

“Carl’s been calling you. Esther’s hurt. She needs to get to the clinic.”

“What’s happening?”

“She had some kind of a seizure. She’s bleeding from her nose and ears. But the shifters are back outside the cul-de-sac. They might not know it’s there, but they know it’s somewhere close by, and they’re in some kind of a frenzy.”

Damnit.
When Phoenix warned them off me, they must have shifted their focus back to Esther instead.

Quinn lifted her head from bandaging her injured partner. “Esther’s hurt?”

“We need to get her past the shifters and to the clinic. Any ideas?” I asked.

She nodded toward the ambulance. “We could try stealing that.”

Peter was already in the driver’s seat before I could answer.

“Okay,” I said. “I guess we’re stealing ambulances now.”

***

Quinn’s human partner distracted the paramedics long enough for us to steal the ambulance. Val sat in the back with Quinn in case we were stopped. Her gaping shoulder wound would fool anyone past base camp into thinking that we were genuinely taking her to the clinic. I didn’t tell Shay or anyone else in case the shifters somehow got wind of the plan first. The ambulance was fast and packed with medical equipment. After thinking about it, it really did seem like a safe bet.

Peter was getting too much of a kick from blasting the sirens. “It’ll freak out the shifters,” he explained. “Their hearing will work against them with this shit carrying on.”

“It’s bothering me, too,” I said. “But at least we’re less likely to crash into the back of something. Why do you keep veering to the left?”

“You try driving something this big for the first time,” he snapped back.

“We might not make it in time,” I said. “If Carl is this worried…”

“Anka and Margie will give her something to help in the meantime,” he said calmly.

“Of all the nights for this to happen…”

“There’s no right time for something like this,” he said. “And there’s no sense in you wondering what if all the time. She’s not been well, and with the stress and everything else, something was bound to give eventually.”

“I didn’t think it would be her life!” I hadn’t meant to sound so emotional, but I was terrified. Esther was already weak, and if the shifters attacked the ambulance, we were all screwed. The ambulance was basically leading them right to our hiding place, but the surprise might give us enough time to get back out and past the waiting shifters. But they were probably half-demented; they likely wouldn’t even care if we knocked them down. And that didn’t sound like a terrible idea when I thought of them waiting for Esther to show.

“At least we can say our lives aren’t boring.” Peter was babbling, trying to draw me out of my own head.

“I’d give anything to be bored,” I said. “I swear, I will never complain of being bored again if Esther makes it through this.”

“Carl called the emergency services for help,” he said in a low voice. “None ever came. We have to be ready to fight our way past the shifters, Ava.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” I said with a growl. I banged on the partition behind me. “Val, Hulk out!”

“I do not ‘Hulk out,’” she grumbled, but the van seemed unbalanced for a second, as if adjusting to her new size.

“Quinn, be careful of the doors. The shifters might make a grab for them.”

“I’m ready,” she said firmly. “Just get us to Esther and then head for the clinic. We’ll do the rest.”

We soon made it to the cul-de-sac after driving at top speed. As we passed, a dozen shifters wandering around near the cul-de-sac stopped what they were doing and stared at us, looking confused. They seemed to realise what was happening when we were almost inside. Their looks of confusion as they chased after us only for us to disappear were comical.

“Maybe I owe the witch an apology and a thank you,” I said, jumping out of the ambulance before it came to a dead stop.

Carl was already carrying Esther out of Anka’s house. The shifter was unconscious, and her blood was all over him. His face was white, but he was dead calm, calmer than I had ever seen him.

“We’ll take her,” I told him.

He shook his head. “I’m coming with you.”

“The shifters—”

“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “I’m going with her.”

I took one look at his determined face and nodded. I helped him put her in the back of the ambulance. He agreed to sit up next to Peter because of the lack of room. I sat in the back with Esther, Val, and Quinn, who looked horrified by Esther’s appearance.

The ambulance jerked out of the cul-de-sac in a hurry, as Peter likely hoped to confuse the shifters a second time. It didn’t work. They raced after us immediately. One, a falcon, flew over us as if keeping track of our path. One hulking male gripped the doors of the ambulance and leapt up to ride with us. He ripped at one door with a growl, pulling it wide open. He reached inside, but Quinn slammed the door shut, catching his hand. He howled in fury then punched on the doors.

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