The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) (27 page)

BOOK: The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance))
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“How can we trust your word?” Mia pointed a violet painted nail at her. “You’re a known normal lover. Michael was it?”

She sucked in a breath. Fury boiled through her veins. Cian placed his hand on the small of her back, rubbing small soothing circles into the flesh.

“Because I was with her that night.” Cian’s voice cracked through the room. Her knees shook; it was a surprise no one noticed them clacking together. She leaned slightly into him.

The voices started back up again. There were cries of shock, and confusion, but mostly anger. The ceiling rattled with the high-pitched vibrations of so much noise.

“Enough!” Edlyn made her way to shaky feet. “We shall investigate this matter further. Until then there is to be no retaliation.”

“NO! You’ll believe a witch’s word over mine?” Mia was not only shaking from anger, but something else, something deeper and more powerful. This wasn’t just anger; it was primal and debilitating pain.

Eve frowned remembering her own pain when Michael had died.

“I demand justice for her.”

“Sit down, Mia,” Iah snarled and exposed the bright ivory of large fangs.

“Screw you! Screw everyone one of you delegates. I won’t take this mortal’s word over what I saw last night. If you won’t give me justice, then I’ll do it myself. Who’s with me?” She turned, holding out an arm. The heavy silver armband she wore and power radiating off her, reminded Eve of the Valkyrie’s of legend. A maiden warrior of death.

A small band of vamps, Weres, and even one witch toward the front of the room, jumped to their feet.

“Good,” she smiled.

“Weres step down,” Lootah growled, gray fur ripping from his forearms and face. “I don’t care what you do, Mia, but my cubs go nowhere.”

Two Weres surrounding Mia dropped their heads and began to tremble. A third stood defiant, head held high. Low rumbling vibrations coming from the back of his throat.

“Surely he doesn’t mean to challenge Lootah right now?” Celeste breathed, casting a worried glance to her sisters.

Eve was spellbound. She couldn’t rip her gaze away from the train wreck unraveling before her. The gatherings had always been peaceful, a promise of mending the past and looking toward the future. Everything was falling apart before her eyes.

A sinking feeling of despair filled the pit of her stomach.

The room overflowed with kinetic energy, a whipping, lashing torrent of rising anger. The pink haired, punked out Were hissed and crouched into a fighting stance, transforming instantly to grizzly. A massive ten-foot bear replaced the man.

Lootah turned fully wolf, jumping onto the table, yellow fangs exposed and dripping saliva. Muzzle pulled back, an angry snarl twisting his face. Lootah should have looked puny compared to the bear, but he was the alpha and the entire room knew it. It was the way he carried himself. Head high, tail sticking straight up like the handle of a pitchfork.

The bear charged, burly body crashing against the table. The other delegates scattered. Everyone knew better than to interfere in pack business. You didn’t do it. Period.

Lootah, for all his age, was spry and agile. Gracefully sailing over the bear’s head and snapping his fanged jaws into the bear’s furry hind leg.

The bear howled, manically swiping his paw through the air and twisting around, but his bulk brought him crashing to the ground. Lootah moved so fast, Eve hadn’t even seen it. One second he was piercing the thick hide of the bear, the next his taloned paw was pressed against the bear’s throat, muzzle mere inches from a life-sustaining artery.

Lootah transformed his head to man. It was unsettling to see the head of a man on the body of the wolf.

“You will listen to me!”

She waited on bated breath. The rise and fall of the bear’s chest and tension still flowing from out his body made her think he might try to attack again, but in the end the bear conceded, shifting to man and turning his head aside. Shamed.

In the end size had been no match for speed. Lootah still had many years left as delegate. And Eve could only hope that whoever challenged him for alpha dominance in the future, and won, would have as keen a mind as he did.

“He may have authority over the Weres, but he does not decide our fate!” A gothed out vamp--wearing a spiked collar and black face paint--yelled, crowding closer to Mia’s side. Several other vamps, who’d earlier been sitting, now stood and gathered around the lone female figure.

Edlyn held up her hands, the amethyst amulet hanging around her neck began to glow deepest purple. “Please brethren, heed Lootah. Do not ride into the night with your fury and hate and sever the weakest ties we have to our human counterparts.”

Vampires and Weres both, stood. A shuffling mass of bodies coalesced into one tight unit of discontent and angst. Fury was so evident in the faces of some, that they began to push and claw at those not of their kind.

Eve’s heart picked up in cadence, pounding like a solid block of stone against her chest, threatening to rip a hole. Cian sidled close. The body heat off her sisters crowded her from behind. Things were getting ugly. And the sad truth was that in some ways she sympathized with the self-disgust of cowing to those inferior to them. Could the normals not see that it was the supers, and not human words of war or death, that kept the so-called thieving murderers in line?

Iah nodded, his obsidian hair swinging behind his back. “The witch is wise. Knowing what we know, we can only pray the death is satisfactory to the normals and that they will not choose to rescind the order of peace. We broke the pact first.” The melodic strains of his Egyptian accent filled the room with a mesmerizing resonance. 

“Pathetic!” Mia spat, “is this what we’ve become? A pack of mindless drones, willing to take handouts from the normals?” her voice cracked and she took a deep breath. “I won’t. I can’t do it anymore.”

Iah clenched his jaw, pain glittering in the depths of shadow filled eyes. “If you leave now, you will be dishonored and an outcast. A pariah to the clan. You’ll have no name. Is that what you want?”

Eve wanted to cry. Mia had snarled at her sure, but the woman was grief stricken, anyone short of a blind man could see that. What she felt Eve understood keenly. This was the loss of a lover, and her madness would make the decision.

Tears that refused to fall glistened in the vampire’s eyes. “I do.”

With those words bedlam exploded. It was like a dam had broken loose. Monsters who’d bottled up all that hatred toward their lot suddenly had a figure to emulate, model themselves after. Those that had barely towed the lines of polite society before, now wanted war. Dominance.

Weres turned on witches. Witches on vamps.

She cursed and gripped her amulet. “C’mon now! We need to leave.” A jetting stream of ruby light shot from her amulet, encasing all four of them in an iridescent lined shield.

No matter how much she might sympathize, and in some ways revile the normals, she was in no mood to be drawn into a battle that was sure to leave her a bruised and bloody mess.

Rumors of another Great War had been around for centuries. Everyone was always gloom and doom when it came to the supernatural state of affairs. But this gave her a sickening feeling of anguish in the pit of her stomach.

Everywhere they looked shuffling, shifting bodies pounded in on them, attempting to draw them in. Hands grabbed for her, but bounced back when they touched the shield. Bursts and crackles of searing orange light shot out from Tamryn’s fingers. One shot hit a werepanther square in its nose. It howled and screamed that frightening mix of human and monster that only a panther could make.

She stumbled several times, knocking into Cian’s back. He turned, but didn’t stop, and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her along faster and faster. Eve panted. The panic seized up her throat and her ability to breathe correctly. She was sweating; droplets stung her eyes, making her lose her focus and concentration. The shield protecting them from the melee grew thinner and thinner. Soon anyone and everyone could overtake them.

She happened to glance to her left and noticed a bright shock of gleaming red hair. Her eyes widened, remembering the specter of the man standing next to the demon the other night. She stopped, nearly knocking Cian to the ground. Tamryn and Celeste barreled into her from behind with loud muffled oaths. Her heart jerked violently in her chest. Between one blink and the next, he, it--whatever it was--was gone.  

Cian bellowed. The part of the shield he’d stood under fractured, and a vampire managed to pierce his arms with bramble thick claws. He slammed his fist into the brunette’s nose. A crimson geyser exploded on impact.

He turned and grabbed Eve’s hand, and with his mass, created a thin path for them to run through and out of. Cool wind slapped them in the face, bringing instant tears to her eyes. She glanced back for a split second, expecting to see the red devil behind them.

“C’mon, Eve!”

That was all the reminder she needed. Fire scorched her lungs, every muscle in her body bloated with adrenaline as she pumped her legs faster and harder than before.

“Run faster,” he yelled, practically throwing Tamryn and Celeste ahead of him, bringing up the rear.

She wanted to stop. Scream. But she didn’t. Bloodlust would soon set in with the creatures. She was mindless, her feet running, but her mind empty. Black. All she knew was they had to get away. Fast.

Finally they reached the safety of cabs and humans. Ironic, that suddenly she felt safer around the normals than she did with her own kind.

“I gotta stop,” she croaked, halting immediately and bending over. Palms flat against her knees and sucking in air like it was mother’s milk.

Cian stopped, but didn’t struggle for air at all. That beautiful body of his in perfect physical shape.

He shoved his fingers through his hair and glanced back. “Okay. A taxi then.”

“Thank the goddess,” Tamryn groaned, holding onto her side and wincing.

Celeste was completely white around the mouth and could only nod her approval.

Cian signaled for a cab and when one pulled up, everyone clamored in, sitting back with a sigh and a groan.

 

 

Cian paid the fare. None of the sisters had cash on them. Neither did he really. So he’d pulled an old trick and paid with essence. The money looked real, felt real, but by tomorrow morning would be nothing more than a memory.

Eve kissed her sisters goodbye on the stoop and then turned when they headed inside, rolling her neck from side to side with a tired hound dog expression.

They walked in silence. Abandoned streets echoed with the sounds of their footsteps. The darkened sky glittered with the light of a trillion white jewels, like a glittering sea of diamonds. The night uncharacteristically fog free.

“Thanks for being there tonight, Cian,” she whispered so low he even had a hard time catching it.

He nodded, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Tonight had been a numbing terror for him. So many bodies. Hands reaching, clamoring, clawing. Reaching out like some apparition of a Hollywood horror. Then there’d been the scent, that unique odor of death and every nerve in his body screamed to get her out of there, out before the strike of midnight. Gone. Gone before Frenzy could reach her.

He closed his eyes, sick at heart. Nightmares of this day would stay with him forever.

“Goddess I hope the delegates got it under control. Especially Mia. I’ve never seen this happen before.” He opened his eyes as she kicked at a pebble with the toe of her boot. She was distant, faraway, and remembering. “I’m sure everything will be alright by tomorrow,” she murmured more to herself than him.

“You really think so?” he drawled.

She twisted her lips and shrugged. “No. I don’t.” She shook her head and continued to speak without blinking. “It all felt surreal, like I was watching a vision, or a premonition of what’s to come. It scared the crap out of me.”

Finally, she blinked--several times--then gave a slight shake and glanced at him, as if recalling where she was and with whom. She flashed him a weak smile and took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about something else.”

He nodded, but the thoughts were never far from his heart, not only the violence of tonight, but the very real fact that Eve was in mortal danger. Time was running out and he didn’t know how to stop the falling grains of sand. He couldn’t stop this. The knowledge was a ripping, clawing wash of despair, rage, and self-loathing.

She frowned, eyeing him, somehow aware of his inner turmoil. Not right now. He wouldn’t allow himself to spoil these last moments with her. Not like this. So he plastered on a fake grin and said, “Like what?”

Eve stopped walking and turned toward him with an unspoken question in her eyes. She placed her hand against his chest and smiled, really smiled, one of those smiles that come from deep within, a pureness of soul.

He stepped closer, nearly crowding her. Welcoming flutters of heat wrapped around him, pulling him even closer. How could she do that? This woman, who with the power of one glance could bring him to his knees.

She lifted a dark brow, peering deeply into his eyes. “A strange man visited me in the shop a few days ago.”

BOOK: The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance))
9.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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