7. Mébh
Gray steeredme through the crowd with his large hand wrapped around my entire forearm. He clutched me tightly, possessively. My Wolf loved it.
I was taking in every inch of the old subway station and the sound of the warm-up band on the makeshift stage at the end of the platform. I couldn’t believe I was actually attending a supernatural concert, no less in one of Portland’s abandoned subway platforms. I was still slightly shocked Gray had agreed to take me despite saying no after the tarot card reading, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
The tarot reading had been absolutely fascinating. Usually werewolves weren’t fans of witches like Ophelia. Magic was unnatural and therefore untrustworthy. My hackles had risen initially upon entering Ophelia’s lobby, but I’d been able to calm my Wolf thanks to my experience being around Madelyn. Ophelia reminded me a lot of her.
Though cryptic, the cards had basically said Gray had everything he needed to return his missing memories. I had to wonder, if he had what he needed, why hadn’t he been able to return his memories yet? Only time would tell.
When the witch asked if I’d wanted to pull a card, I couldn’t resist, and my heart just about burst out of my chest when I saw I’d picked a card called The Lovers. It was so poetic since I was literally there with my fated mate. But based on Ophelia’s explanation, it wasn’t as simple as two people falling in love. It was about balanced choices between the mind and heart. I knew with my mind and with my heart that Gray was mine and I was choosing him. He would obviously take some more convincing to get there. But he was my fated mate, so he had to get there, right?
I looked around the dilapidated old subway station more closely, focusing on the finer details in an effort to distract myself. It hadn’t been used since the fifties, most likely. Anything of value had long since been stripped and graffiti was all over the place. However, the building’s stonework was eerily beautiful and ornate, from a bygone turn-of-the-century era.
Luckily for me, there was no age limit since it was a supernatural event; nobody cared that I wasn’t over twenty-one. We’d entered through a hidden stairwell located under an arbitrary metal door in the sidewalk in a downtown alley. It was guarded by two vampires who opened it for us after Gray mentioned the band and Ophelia’s name. We followed the stairs down to this level.
There was a drug deal going on in the corner by the old train platform turned stage, and many beings had a drink in hand from the makeshift bar by the entrance. Gray helped me down onto the old subway tracks, and we joined the crowd of supernatural creatures ready to hear Incubus play.
The band’s name made me wonder if the whole band were a mix of supernaturals or all incubi... and why did they go by Incubus in that case and not Incubi? Who knew?
Gray halted us at the back of the crowd and continued sweeping the area like a security guard. I wished he’d taken me up front or let me join the mosh pit. I’d never been to a concert before, human or supernatural, and I wanted a better fucking view than the back, at least. “Can’t we go up closer to the front?”
“No,” he growled in my ear. His warm palm still gripped my arm. “Watch from where I say, or we leave.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. I did not want him to mist us away.
There was tension in the air as everyone waited, listening to the current band on stage, and chatting pleasantly with the friends they had come with. It was fascinating for me to watch, just like at the supernatural bar. I smelled sex everywhere and quickly realized from the sensual way a group of females walked by us, they had to be succubi like that bartender. There were males who smelled similar scattered around, they had to be incubi. The band had to be of the species by the numbers of succubi and incubi here. There were also groups of witches about, and tons of vampires. Like before at the bar, there were a few other scents that vexed me. Also, like the bar, I scented no other werewolves. I wasn’t surrounded by the pack, and it felt slightly liberating. I could do what I wanted, and nobody would gossip about it the next day at breakfast.
Speaking of pack, though, I scanned behind us and noticed two familiar faces leaning back against one of the old pylons that held up the underground between the crisscrossing train tracks. Chef Henry was easily recognizable with his height and long, wild curls. He was sporting a pair of swords—one sticking up behind each shoulder. Xander, a Polaris Clan member whom I’d seen multiple times at the pack, was with him. His long blond hair was French braided back. The sides of his head were shaved, giving him a punk vibe. He had an axe strapped to his hip bearing markings that looked Viking in origin, only adding to his look. Both wore all black battle attire—leather pants and long sleeves, not Polaris’s usual uniform. They did not look like they were here for a concert. They stood away from the crowd and instead looked like they were watching it intently.
“I know those two vampires.” I gestured in their direction.
“Who?” Gray asked, pausing his own sweep of the crowd to look where I’d indicated.
“Those two there,” I said, trying to point subtly. “They are both members of Polaris, but Henry has been working as the chef for my werewolf pack. Xander visits a lot.”
Henry was mated to my cousin Faelen, as well as another she-wolf named Ember. Mates were normally two supernaturals, but the three of them were the first triad in existence. By some magical happenstance, Ember had become pregnant with twins when the three mated. Madelyn had insisted both Faelen and Henry had each fathered a pup, and Henry’s child would be the first hybrid vampire werewolf ever. Vampires were dead; they couldn’t reproduce. This was a true miracle, and something Gabriel had informed the pack had to be kept secret from all other supernaturals. This, unfortunately, included Gray.
I didn’t want to endanger Ember and the pups by saying anything about them, not in a public space full of supernatural creatures that could overhear and bring trouble. You never knew who could be listening to your conversation. I’d learned that the hard way within the pack. Once I’d been overheard telling a suck buddy—that’s a buddy you traded oral with—what I wanted to do to his dick at the next opportunity, and holy moon was I in trouble when word reached Molly who still thought I was some innocent child. I was fourteen at the time.
“They look like they are searching for someone.” Gray’s eyes narrowed and shifted to silver. After a pause, he confirmed his own suspicion. “They’re searching for a target. Someone they mean to kill from a hit list.”
“What?” I shook my head in confusion. “How on earth do you know all that?”
“I used my gift and spied into their minds,” he replied sardonically.
“Wait, that’s your gift? You can read minds?” Was his eyes shifting to silver an indicator of him using his powers?
“I prefer to call it spying. I only get flashes of what they are thinking.” He shrugged, looking completely unapologetic, like it wasn’t a breach of someone’s privacy.
I suddenly realized he could be listening in on my thoughts at any point. “Have you used it on me?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know the answer.
He swiveled back to look at me and cocked his head to the side. “You’re unbelievably difficult to read.”
That meant he had tried to spy into my mind. I wasn’t sure if I should be yelling at him for trying or just be happy he couldn’t actually read my thoughts.
“That’s not exactly an answer,” I said, but it was all the answer I would be getting.
Gray was focusing on the two vampires again, silver flashing in his eyes. “This is about revenge for Henry,” he explained. “Something to do with a previous blood slave turned mate, Ember, and getting back at every vampire who bit and used her.”
“Oh shit,” I gasped, my hands flying up to cover my mouth in shock. Henry was seeking revenge on every vampire who had fed from Ember when she was enslaved. “Okay, I have to admit that is oddly romantic, but Henry shouldn’t be here, not with Ember p—” I just caught myself before I said too much. “He shouldn’t be leaving his mates,” I hastily corrected.
Gray didn’t seem to notice my word fumble. He continued staring at the two Polaris vamps as he spied on them.
“Gabriel won’t like this.” Had I been within pack territory, I would have mind linked to the Alpha to report, but Henry was safe from my narking for now. I sent a prayer up to the Moon Goddess that they stayed safe from harm while they were up to their irresponsible vigilante work.
Henry was suddenly in motion, pulling his swords from their sheaths behind his shoulders. Xander had his axe in hand. The two of them disappeared, using their shadow-walking abilities.
“Where did they go?” I asked.
“They found their target,” Gray stated, an odd note of excitement in his tone.
The risks Henry was taking worried me for Faelen and Ember’s sake. Werewolves tended to follow their mates to the grave. At least all the stories I had heard growing up—when I thought matehood was a fairytale—said it was that way. Having found my own mate, the idea of Gray being injured made my Wolf growl angrily, and I couldn’t even fathom worse.
I wondered if Faelen knew about Henry and Xander’s exploits. I made a mental note to ask him as soon as I could. Maybe that would be better than alerting Gabriel right away?
A witch came up to Gray just then, distracting me from my thoughts, with her blonde ringlets and large bosoms practically bouncing.
“Gray! I didn’t know you were an Incubus fan!” She touched him with familiarity, and my Wolf and I bristled.
“Corin,” Gray said by way of greeting, in a deadpan rumble.
“Hey, maybe we can chill after this. Sabrina said you two had such a fun time that night.” She bit her lip as lust shone in her eyes. The innuendo was clear.
It was only then she seemed to notice me standing right next to him. “Oh, I am good if she joins too. The more the merrier.” She winked at me.
I nearly snarled in disgust and felt my eyes tingle as they shifted color. My Wolf was furious as hell and wanted to tear into this witch for trying to steal my mate right out from under my snout, never mind suggesting a three-way. I didn’t share.
“Another time,” Gray snapped, his words cutting without question. He was still watching the crowd and paying little attention to the suggestive witch. His disinterest was the only thing that kept me from clawing the witch’s face off.
She pouted briefly. “You know where to find me,” she said breathily as she turned and flicked her hair off her shoulders.
I waited until she was out of earshot before rounding on him. “You slept with her friend, I take it?”
“Yes.” He replied honestly and met my eyes. “I informed you I went to a witch seeking to return my memories. Sex was her price for trying. Not that it resulted in much besides me learning Earth-side magic couldn’t undo demonic mind meddling.” He scowled and went back to scanning the crowd.
“So you just slept with her for information?” I snapped.
He glanced back in my direction. “No, I enjoyed it too.”
I gasped, scandalized, while my Wolf howled internally with jealousy. “Is this a normal thing for you?” I practically spat.
His stormy-gray eyes landed on me again. “Yes, I like to fuck. I feel the most alive when having sex, and I don’t do relationships or monogamy.”
My eyes practically bugged out of my head as I stared up at him. My mate was a freaking womanizer who didn’t do relationships. Was this why he was avoiding me at all costs sexually and saying it was a mistake when I kissed him? I could see the longing in his eyes and felt his hard-on when we woke up this morning. It wasn’t fair that he was so cavalier with all these other stupid supernaturals and yet not me, his fated mate! Relationships aside, a fated mate was more. It was deeper. It was the other half of one’s soul and it was forever binding. Was that why he was running scared and had been so intent on returning me to the pack? Well, he would just have to get over it. We were meant to be together.
The woodsy scent of other werewolves met my nose, and I froze, completely distracted. There were no prominent werewolf packs with territory in Portland. This group of weres were most likely from a small rural area but had probably traveled into town just for the concert.
Suddenly, I had to find them.
I’d never met werewolves outside the pack and had to find out if they knew anything about my mother. Most likely she died after leaving the pack behind. Lone wolves didn’t survive long; we needed a pack to thrive. I didn’t fool myself into believing she was happy being forced into an arranged marriage with mine and Molly’s father, and forced to breed as soon as possible by Luke, our previous Alpha. But when I was a little girl, I had stupidly said prayers to the Moon Goddess that my mother had survived and found a new, better pack to live with. I dreamed of the day she would return for me, love me, and rescue me from the same forced marriage fate. After she left, nobody in my pack would tell me what happened. I needed to take this opportunity to ask outside the pack for information.
I spun on my heel and slunk off, sliding through the crush of bodies, following my nose in search of the three werewolves. Two males and one female. Could the female possibly even be my mother?
I always figured if I ever scented her, I would recognize her instantly, like a deeply ingrained memory from my infancy . . . but I didn’t recognize this she-wolf’s scent.
It didn’t take me long to locate the group, but when I did, my heart sank. The female was tall and brown-haired, with hazel eyes—nothing like me.
Did I really expect to locate my mother randomly at a concert?
No.
But my heart sank just the same as my stupid, fleeting hope was crushed.
The three weres had been talking animatedly to one another, but they fell silent and eyed me as I approached and stopped.
“Do any of you know a werewolf by the name of Mhari McKay?” I asked, unable to keep the hopefulness out of my tone.
The three glanced at one another. I could tell they were mind linking.
After a moment, the female replied with a shake of her head, “No, sorry, we’ve never heard that name before.”
My shoulders sagged.
I knew it had been a long shot.
“Thanks,” I said softly and started to turn around, but one of the males had moved and was now blocking my path.
“What’s the rush, sweetheart?” He smelled heavily of alcohol and grease. My Wolf hated it and I nearly retched in my mouth.
I pivoted to the side, seeking to get around him, and found the other male in my way. Behind me, the female closed in. I was encircled by the three of them. My heart sped up, and my Wolf bristled, feeling trapped. I was getting angry, and my slumbering rage awakened. Fight-or-flight mode was about to be tripped if I wasn’t careful.
I backed up a step, and the female grabbed my shoulders from behind. “Are you here alone, little one? Ain’t no pack rules here,” she whispered in my ear as fear shot through me.
Rogues.
These three were rogue wolves, a set that could survive together but had no pack ties and usually had been kicked out of a pack in the first place for misconduct.
Panic set in, my Wolf growling within me and vying for control.
There was a deep snarl from directly behind us and the scent of burning wood filled my nose.
Gray.
“You’re going to let her go and leave this concert right now if you value your lives,” he rumbled quietly, but no less seriously. The threat hung heavy in the air.
I’d never seen werewolves scatter so fast.
A clawed hand settled on the back of my neck, and I felt the heat of him as he stood behind me. “What do you think you were doing sneaking away from me like that, princess?” His words rumbled in my ear, and the possessiveness of his grip had me trembling slightly.
“I just wanted to ask those werewolves a question!” I snarled back, the rage beginning to spiral as my Wolf struggled against the confines of her cage.
“And was getting kidnapped part of your plan?” He growled angrily. “You didn’t see inside their heads. At the crap they were planning to do to you.”
I turned around and Gray’s hand dropped away to form a fist at his side. He was absolutely seething, his fangs and claws out, teeth sharp, silver eyes ablaze, and horns beginning to lengthen as his body shook.
“Getting kidnapped was not my plan! They were rogue wolves, too crazy for a pack!”
“Obviously,” he said on a low snarl.
“It’s not my fault,” I growled around my fangs.
“Debatable.”
My Wolf forced herself out, and a snarl escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
Gray looked heavenward for a moment and then sighed. “It’s okay. You are safe, Mébh. Can you tell me three things you smell?”
I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to let the rage out. Normally, I would have screamed back, but his question caught me off guard. Logically, I knew he was just trying to calm me or help me calm myself, but for the first time in my life, I was okay with someone stepping in other than my sister.
Inhaling, I drew scents into my nose and replied before thinking. “I smell a bonfire, coconut soap, and a lavender fabric softener.”
Gray glanced down at himself and sniffed. I felt like I might die of embarrassment. All three scents were directly on him, and though there were any number of other scents from the area, the ones I picked out first were all his.
“So, me?” He grinned cockily, and I wanted to punch him.
My Wolf sighed. She wasn’t embarrassed that she enjoyed every scent attached to him. The important part was that she calmed and stopped fighting for control. The rage simmered and slowly slipped away to the back of my mind. It was still always there and ready to resurface at a moment’s notice, especially after I was triggered.
My fangs and claws retracted. “I’m sorry I ditched you. It won’t happen again,” I promised.
His silver eyes narrowed. “If I could actually see into your mind to know if you are genuine or not, it would be a hell of a lot easier to trust your words.”
“I promise,” I assured him. “I won’t leave your side again. I just want to see the concert.”
“Fine. But we are going back to the edge of the crowd,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
“But—”
“No.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the stage, which was quite a bit closer now. The warm-up band had finished and left the stage.
I turned and started trudging further away, with Gray right behind me, but then suddenly all the lights went down. “Welcome to Portland’s Old Subway!” could be heard over the loudspeakers. “The Silverton Clan is proud to bring you”—there was a pause in the announcement for greater effect—“Incubus!”
The crowd went wild, roaring with noise. I was immediately swept up in the excitement and adrenaline and stopped in my tracks to look back toward the stage and cheer. Gray reluctantly stopped and stood beside me, clearly giving up on trying to get us to the back of the crowd. I smiled to myself at that.
The band came out and grabbed their instruments, each doing a test riff or two. Then the drummer started a beat, and the rest joined in, and I was entranced by the music from the first chord.
Alternative rock.
I felt the music pulsing through me like never before. There was something magical about live music. I didn’t know the words to the songs, like the majority of the screaming succubi and incubi did, but I was definitely downloading all of Incubus’s albums as soon as I got a new cell phone.
Several more songs later, I had lost track of time and space, having too much fun listening to the music. Gray was suddenly alert beside me and glaring through the crowd with silver eyes flashing. Tension rolled off him.
“What is it?” I demanded, disliking the distraction from the concert.
“Demons,” he rumbled. “We have to go. Now.”
“What?” I asked, not wanting to believe him. “Why would there be demons here?” I searched the crowd frantically, hoping he was wrong as my Wolf began to stir with my nerves and anger spiking.
Then I saw them.
An armored demon with small stag horns on his forehead was stalking through the crowd toward us from the left. I recognized the armor; it was the same as the attacking demons from Polaris headquarters, but the sash was black, not green. There were two others. One demon with large four-point deer horns stood guarding the entrance to the stairwell—our exit was effectively blocked. The third demon had small antelope horns and was trying to cut through the crowd behind us. They had us almost surrounded already.
“Can’t you mist us out of here?” I asked, turning to Gray in desperation.
“No,” he bit out. “The power of misting is rooted to the sky. I cannot travel this deep underground.”
Well, shit.
“That would have been helpful to know ahead of time,” I snapped, feeling the rage and immediately seeking an outlet. “How the fuck do you travel between dimensions, then?”
“There was a reason I said no to this concert originally, and dimension hopping isn’t underground,” he snarled back.
I rolled my eyes, and he snarled again, much to my satisfaction. As much as I wanted to keep raging at him, we had to find a way out of here. To our right, where the makeshift stage ended, the platform didn’t stop. It narrowed into a small service walk that went off into the darkness of the old subway tunnels beyond the crowd.
“What about that way?” I pointed.
Gray grabbed my hand without a word and began pulling me through the crowd of creatures toward the tunnel entrance. I didn’t even get a second to appreciate the feeling of his big hand enveloping mine while the simmering rage coiled within, ready to strike at the next opportunity.
The demons immediately understood we were making a break for it, and the two in the crowd tried to move faster and head us off. I held my breath as we reached the edge of the crowd and slid into the total darkness of the old tunnels.
“Run,” Gray commanded, and let go of my hand.
I started running without complaint, my heart racing in my chest with each loud, echoing footfall. I struggled to see in the complete blackness of the tunnel, even with my supernatural vision. It was difficult trying to avoid tripping over any fallen debris and the old, decrepit tracks themselves. We were moving steadily downward, going deeper underground, the opposite of the direction we needed to go to mist out.
My Wolf yowled angrily, and I struggled to hold off the inevitable activation of fight-or-flight mode—my Wolf would just take me over.
Then the unmistakable sound of footfalls pounding in the distance met my ears. The demons were pursuing us into the old tunnels.
My blood pounded in my ears as my Wolf yowled again, lurching against the confines of her “cage.” Gray began running faster, and I struggled to keep up with him while fighting my Wolf internally.
My fangs and claws begin to grow as my eyes tingled, indicating their color shift.
No!
I couldn’t lose control. Not now.
The sounds of footsteps following were growing louder; the demons were somehow gaining on us.
I felt trapped.
Trapped by the crowd behind us.
Trapped by the demons stalking us.
Trapped by the very earth I usually loved to run on with four paws.
I was panting and out of breath, and I was outright struggling to keep my Wolf from taking over now.
“What’s . . . the plan . . . exactly?” I gasped out between breaths.
“Find another exit,” Gray replied, sounding hardly winded.
Another exit? We were in miles of old underground tunnels that had mostly been decommissioned and closed off from the street level. Finding an exit we could actually escape through might prove to be challenging. And what if we encountered a cave in? What if we couldn’t get out? What if those demons got ahold of Gray? What would they do?
My Wolf surged, and I barely held onto the reins. Fight-or-flight mode activated as my rage spiraled out of control. I struggled to remember how to calm my rising Wolf.
Inhale through the nose.
Exhale through the mouth.
It wasn’t helping; she was still fighting madly.
Through the gloom, I could see there was a big, cavernous space coming up. Possibly another old subway station?
“This way,” Gray’s deep voice commanded as we entered it, and he pulled me toward the edge of the old platform. He grabbed my waist and set me on the higher ground, hauling himself out of the track pit a moment later. He grabbed my hand again and pulled me along.
We only made it a few paces before I could hear the demons’ steps echoing around the empty stone-walled station. This one was even more decrepit than the one we came from, with tiles crumbling from the walls and garbage strewn all over the steps on each side of the platform.
Gray dragged me to the right toward a staircase. We made it up the flight of stairs to the next level. We were greeted with what had been another staircase up to street level, but large boulders now filled the space.
“Fuck,” Gray snapped as we came to an abrupt halt and stared at the exit that was no longer an option.
I was suddenly grabbed around the middle, dragged back, and forced from Gray’s grip.
I snarled as my Wolf successfully ripped control out of my hands. I was unceremoniously forced to the back of my mind.
Gray spun and growled, showing his razor-like teeth and fangs, sharpening features, and his silver eyes. He looked furious.
“That was a mistake,” he rumbled in a deadly calm voice.
He jerked his right hand up and then downward, and a blue light erupted in the darkness. He pulled a sword from thin air, and blue flames licked up the blade, seeming to come from Gray himself. His horns were slowly growing and lengthening, his tail appeared behind him, and his muscles began to bulge, his shift tearing over him.
I lost sight of him as another demon, the one with antelope horns, got between Gray and me. Gray swung his flaming blade at the demon, but the creep blocked, wielding a non-burning sword of his own.
I was dragged further away toward where the deer-horned demon stood, having just reached the platform. This male was clearly the one in charge. I could only watch, a spectator in my own body, as my Wolf ruled now. My body began to change shape as my Wolf initiated my shift—thank the gods. At least in wolf form, she might be able to do some damage.
“She’s shifting!” the demon who held me yelled. He tried first to keep his grip around my middle, but my Wolf smartly wriggled, kicked, and flailed. I felt my arm smack into the demon’s face and heard a satisfying crunch. He groaned and awkwardly adjusted his grip to my shoulder, which abruptly started reforming with a pop, lengthening, and growing slippery black fur that had him struggling to keep his hand on me.
Gray was suddenly there, slashing the sword through the demon’s arm. He no longer had the ability to grip me at all. With a furious snarl, the demon faltered and fell, clutching his now useless stump.
The demon with the large deer horns was running toward us, raising both hands in a show of innocence and yelling something, but I had little ability to home in and listen to his words while my Wolf ruled.
Gray brandished his flaming sword and wrapped an arm protectively around my still-shifting form. He picked me up, pulled me in against him, and my nose was suddenly full of the smell of a bonfire. My Wolf chuffed happily as the world dissolved around us and I knew we were safe. He had managed to mist us out.