Chapter 59
Mark struggled against the immovable wall that was his brother and Caster. His growls grew louder the longer the witch smiled her contempt. Why were they doing this? She was right there. His jaw ached with the product of his imagined vengeance, but try as he might, he couldn’t move past them.
Dean’s influence invaded his mind, commanding his wolf to calm down. The struggle, the tension in his muscles, eased the longer the Prime Alpha commanded his wolf, but his human side fought his brother.
Fine. Transform then.
His wolf retreated to a mind he was losing control of, obeying the Prime Alpha in an instant. He was now trapped between Caster and Dean, each with a bruising grip on either arm.
“Hello there, my beautiful wolf.” Ethel’s voice was too calm, given the state of her army. “I’ve been waiting for you. Remember me?”
Mark tried to push past Dean and Caster, his frustration growing when his enormous efforts proved fruitless.
“You must. It hasn’t been that long, has it?” She continued to speak, her demeanor too calm for someone surrounded by powerful enemies.
Why wasn’t anyone attacking her?
She has a barrier of strong dark magic protecting her. Caster spoke into his mind. Look at me.
It took enormous effort to draw his attention away from the witch who’d taken everything from him.
Take a breath.
There was no ignoring the earnest command in Caster’s tone. The air invading his lungs was thick with the stench of death, causing him to gag.
Do you feel it? Her power?
He could only nod.
That’s why.
She was not devoid of fear after all.
Dean maintained his grip on Mark even as he bestowed his undivided attention on the witch. “What do you want?”
“Give him to me, and I’ll stop.” She stared at Mark as she replied, her power now that he was aware of it threatening in its intent.
“Stop what?” Riley stepped forward, his power matching hers in intensity, but devoid of the toxicity.
She waved a hand over the green lawn littered with her dead army. “This. I’ll stop the killing.”
The silence persisted for what seemed an eternity. If he thought it would help, if he believed her for a second, Mark would give himself up. But that meant leaving Caster, and he couldn’t live with that, couldn’t imagine an existence without him.
Caster’s momentary squeeze of his arm signaled he’d heard that thought. But when he glanced in his direction, concrete determination aimed at the witch was all he saw.
Ethel’s sigh was dramatic. “Fine.” Her smile made her seem no older than a teenager as she held out her hand, but the voice that came out of her was otherworldly, deep, and male.
It shattered the silence with tremendous force as she chanted in a language that didn’t sound like a language at all, but a series of growls.
Her eyes rolled back into her head, the same dark void on her army’s faces replacing them.
The ground shook, and the screeching from her dead army returned.
Mark couldn’t contain his gasp as the Made-Vampires they had vanquished rose from the ashes.
The chorus of screeching and the witch’s chant mingled with shouts from the others as the battle they thought they’d won resumed with renewed earnestness.
Mark had two of the dead things in his hands, calling on all the strength from both sides of him as he ripped their heads from their shoulders.
The lawn was a whirlwind of movement, but their efforts, even as they dispatched their enemy with efficient precision, proved futile, the longer the witch continued her chant.
For every dead Made-Vampire they killed, two more rose from the dead, and they seemed to grow in strength with each resurrection.
The current one in his hand was proving harder to kill, but Mark wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of everything he wanted, and everything now included a life with Caster.
Several rounds of killing the undying zapped at his strength, and he stopped with the latest one in his grip.
He glanced at Caster, who dispatched two more with quick, sharp movements.
He should transform, but Dean’s presence in his mind still held his animal at bay.
The witch’s army did nothing to fight back.
It seemed all they could do was die and come back, and even in the midst of a thrill only a quick kill could provide, he was thankful they lacked bite.
“That’s enough!” Riley’s shout rose above the battle, above the witch’s chant to fill the space with his power before Caster pulled him out of its path.
Energy singed the hairs on his arm as he stepped away with seconds to spare, Riley’s attack landing with a satisfying blast against the witch’s barrier.
The impact pushed her out of its confines, within reach of his vengeance, but she was too quick.
She held out her hand, her dark power meeting the second blast of energy from Riley with the tremendous clap of thunder, the shockwave it generated pushing Mark off balance.
Her darkness blanketing the normal night grew thicker, obscuring stars.
She turned to him with the menace of evil in her annoyed expression and hurled the next ball of darkness his way.
Caster was a blur of movement before he could even react, his immense speed reducing the moment to a slowed-down theatre of events as he pushed him out of the way.
In the second it took for normal speed to return, he was falling into Dean’s chest, and Caster was on his knees.
He glanced at the witch, ready to exact his revenge, his wolf defying his brother’s will as he transformed faster than he ever had, and leaped at her. But the witch dissolved into nothingness, and he missed his mark.
He was back in human form in time to meet Caster’s eyes as the witch’s magic took hold. Caster fell face-first into the death-stained ground, and his heart shattered back into the individual pieces held together by duct tape before he’d met Caster. Only now, even the duct tape was gone.