“How could she have known?”
The sunset that the witch’s darkness obscured had brought the night, the natural darkness that would have signified the beginning of the end of his day with Mark.
Would he ever find out what the morning would have brought?
Caster had envisioned waking cocooned in Mark’s warm embrace.
He would have suggested they have breakfast together, where they would talk about nothing, each doing their best to ignore the change in their circumstances.
Instead, it was this. Trapped in a mansion that closed in on him by the minute, unable to do anything about it. Where the fuck was Marcus?
“It feels a little convenient.” Damien’s low voice startled him, and he only restrained himself from jumping.
He’d moved to the conference room’s shattered floor-to-ceiling windows, needing to keep an eye on the enemy outside.
The Made-Vampires surrounding them had since gone quiet, as if they too waited.
“How so?” Even with his back to him, his awareness found Mark on the opposite end engaged in a hushed conversation with his brother, Ben, and Edie.
“How could she have known?”
He faced Damien, unsure of the direction of his cousin’s inquiry. “That Mark was here? Bastian—”
Damien shook his head. “No. That we would be unprotected.”
Shame, foreign and unwanted, crawled through his belly. How had he not thought of it?
“You think someone in the house?” He glanced at those congregated in the broken space, glass littering the floor, the furniture broken beyond repair. “I trust everyone in this room.”
“Yeah, me too. I mean, someone who is not here. Someone who may have left just before. Perhaps last night?”
Who would even think of betraying him? But he could see Damien’s point. The thought that he’d left Mark alone with a traitor in his house didn’t sit well with the anger already threatening to explode outward. But who would bear the brunt of that anger if not himself? “Maybe.”
Damien shrugged, his calm attitude in the middle of immense danger something Caster had grown to accept and respect, even if it was fucking annoying. “I’ll have Julian working on that as soon as we get out of here. We’ll know soon enough.”
“What is taking Marcus so long?”
His cousin’s snort had him turning away from the mess of darkness outside the window. “Don’t tell me you have doubts?”
“No.” Only Damien would make him feel so defensive.
He smiled. “You seem tense, Caster. You OK?”
“I will kick your ass, right here, right now.”
His smile grew. “I wish you would.” He blew out a breath, his smile retreating into an uncharacteristic frown. “I could use some outlet for all this energy.” He shook his head. “This is only the beginning, Caster, and our future doesn’t seem too bright.”
“Yeah.”
Comfortable silence settled between them, but this time there was a weight around it, a gravity that threatened to pull him into the void of his emotions.
Damien didn’t need to say it, and Caster didn’t need to hear it.
His presence was all the support he would need.
Its comfort and reliable strength allowed him to find the peace he needed to organize his thoughts.
The hushed conversations from the others in the room added to the pressure of his overwhelming duty.
A burden Damien and Riley had promised to help him shoulder.
Lost in the pressure of everything he would need to do to deserve the trust the others in the room bestowed on him, it took a second to sense the energetic shift.
Silence replaced the comfort of hushed tones.
This silence wasn’t comfortable. It was loud in its warning.
He glanced at Damien, caution invading his cousin’s usual calm expression.
He turned to face the others and caught Riley’s gaze. His friend hushed his question with a small shake of the head and a raised finger. They’re here.
Marcus?
Riley nodded. It was clear from their expression that the message delivered to his mind had been broadcast to everyone’s mind. Riley was the only person he knew who could do that.
Why are we being quiet? Mark asked in the shared mind space Riley had created.
Whatever they’re doing is distracting the witch enough that her spell is weakening.
Riley said. I am going to breach the wall of magic around us, and we can’t let her dead army hear us.
If they do, she will. He looked at Caster and then Damien.
Be ready to kill the moment the protective wall goes away.
He didn’t need to tell him twice.
Shouldn’t we be in wolf-form? Mark asked, and Caster could see his desire to transform.
Riley shook his head. Not yet. Follow my lead.
He closed his eyes, and the familiar Latin chant indicating the wording of a spell filled the space. His immense power filled the room for a millisecond, and then it was gone, the deafening screeching of Ethel’s army replacing it.
Now.
Caster didn’t wait for Riley’s emphatic direction, nor did Damien.
Each had two of those dark, dead things in their grip, in the second it took for the witch’s barrier to come down.
The creatures, once man, once vampire, now unrecognizable, thrashed in his grip.
His claws ripped through their heads, decapitating each in one smooth motion.
He heard the growls behind him, drowning the sounds of the screeching creatures as they made quick work of Ethel’s creations.
Even decapitated, the dead Made-Vampires thrashed at them, unyielding to death, but their efforts wouldn’t survive Riley’s power. A single touch on every creature they put down dissolved their bodies into ash, the stench of death staining his home forever.
The sound of a similar battle reached his ears from the other end of his property. He looked behind him to catch sight of Mark’s magnificent animal, the other two wolves still caught in the uncertainty of the transformation.
His party raced towards the sound only to stop short.
Hundreds of those Made-Vampires littered the area, dying by the dozen as Julian, Marcus, and Dean, who had remained in human form, tore them to shreds.
Three witches battled Ethel for control, the purity of the energy leaving their outstretched hands dissipating in the darkness she weaved around herself.
She laughed, her cackle as deafening as the shrieks from her army, unaffected by the immense power in the safety of her dark bubble. She flicked her wrist, sending all three witches flying across the compound to the once pristine forest around the property.
Her army diminished to a few stragglers, but she didn’t seem fazed.
“I can always make more.” Even more disturbing than the ease with which she’d infiltrated his mind was the extent of her power.
She was a slip of a girl, her flowing dark hair, darker than the magic around her, her pretty features, the distinct quality of Water Witches enhanced by the confidence of her smile.
It had been a mistake to underestimate her.
The power she flaunted was a close match to the power Riley contained.
Its effects tore at his skin, prickled his senses, but it was her comfort with its darkness that terrified him beyond words.
He heard Mark’s growl somewhere behind him, and he glanced at the Prime Alpha, who nodded his agreement. Mark advanced, Caster and Dean stood in his path, their combined strength the only thing holding him away from the futility of his goal.