Chapter 16 #2
But I fell on him, no control over my hunger for vengeance. I lost myself to it, pummeling my fists into his face over and over again, forgetting to breathe, forgetting everything beyond my rage.
Lance Forest poisoned my life in many ways, always a thorn in my side. Always threatened the people I cared about.
Not anymore.
I kept beating him, fucking up his face, his blood spraying, his body going limp. And it wasn’t enough. Like me, he had built-in shifter strength, a degree of self-healing that would eventually put him back on his feet if I didn’t finish the job properly.
Where he failed to break my neck, I succeeded. He went limp, blood pooling under his ruined head.
I sat on his chest, catching my breath, staring down at the mess.
I felt nothing, not even relief. Only emptiness—the kind that sidestepped numbness.
Lance was dead and that was it. No fireworks, no ceremony, nothing but the metallic stench of his blood and the violent sounds of the horde closing in on us.
Getting to my feet, in need of ointment and a hot bath, I finally came back to myself.
Daria’s was on her knees beside Joe’s ashes, head bowed.
Shit.
Basil stared at me, mouth hanging open.
“We have to move,” I wheezed, standing there stark bollock naked and sore as hell. “The horde…”
“Joseph…” Daria whispered. “My dear friend. Too many friends lost.”
“Daria, we have to—”
Her head snapped up. “Move. Yes. We have to move. Yes. I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t fight with you.” She was back on her feet.
“Not your fight,” I answered. “I’m sorry about Joe.”
“Grieving can wait. Come, fae. I will carry you.”
Basil didn’t argue, climbing onto Daria’s back. Silently, she followed me along the dirt path, the two of us breaking into a jog. I worked through the pain, picking up my pace.
Lance is dead, I told myself, still feeling absolutely nothing.
Lance. Is. Dead.
Maybe one day I would celebrate. Maybe one day it would feel less anti-climactic. He didn’t suffer enough. He didn’t scream enough. I didn’t hurt him enough. God, he deserved so much worse than what he got.
“Interesting,” the voice of Dawn came from behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see the possessed biter again.
What I saw jolted me to a stop, got my body turning, my hackles rising.
Lance was back on his feet, his swollen eyes tainted pink, that damn smoke coiling around his body like a pink python.
Behind him, hundreds of Dawn-infested eyes lit up the night.
“I see nothing but the failures of life on this planet,” Dawn said, its voice twinned with Lance’s. Distorted, not as clear, but still creepy. “Where is the unity? Why do you not fight together? Too late now. You killed him, his body is mine. But your world is strange. Your world is losing.”
Enough of this shit. I couldn’t take anymore of Lance’s reanimated corpse or the proximity of the biters. Let Dawn say whatever the fuck it wanted. We were out of here.
I used the last of my energy to shift and get some good distance quickly, tearing off into the night with the vamp. I’d pay the physical price later.
The horde made its horrific noises while Dawn cackled. Those sounds echoed around us, even after gaining decent distance on the fuckers.
After about five miles, my body finally gave up. I shifted to human in the middle of a country road close to a windmill, rolling onto my back.
“What is it?” Daria asked, taking my hand. “Are you spent?”
“Yeah…”
“How long do you need?”
“Give me… Fuck. Maybe ten minutes. Give me ten minutes.”
“I can heal…” Basil struggled to say. “I can heal you.”
He was in no state to be healing anyone.
“It’s alright,” I replied. “I’ll be fine.”
“We can shelter in the windmill,” Daria suggested. “I will check it first.” She carried Basil away.
“Ori?” I tried reaching out to him, my pain and exhaustion too much of a blocker.
Damn. I just wanted to hear his voice.
Daria returned. I sensed her bristle, saw her pupils dilate.
Ah, shit. What now?
“Wolves,” she whispered. “Your wolves.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Can‘t you smell them?”
As soon as she said it, I picked up their familiar scents, the remainder of my fury softening. “James? Paige?”
I saw them coming down the road in wolf forms. James, my beta and pack engineer was brown-furred. Paige, the pack’s medic, was a soft blonde.
What a sight for sore eyes, some of my tension easing.
My people. They were really here.
Both of them shifted to human at the same time, jogging the last few feet.
Three naked werewolves, a vampire, and a fae all gathered on a road—there had to be a joke in there somewhere.
“Oh my God,” Paige said in her Irish lilt, the back of her hand on my forehead
“What happened?” James asked, his ninety-percent perky voice cracking. “Look at the state of you. Come on. We’ve got a safe space where Paige can treat your wounds.”
Paige nodded, her pale blue eyes shining.
“Then we’ll talk,” James added, his nostrils flaring in response to the distant sounds of the horde.
I passed out five minutes into the journey to this safe place, falling into a dream about Orion.
Nothing steamy, nothing more than holding him on my bed, back at my Haven flat.
And it meant the world.
No. The universe.