Chapter Twenty-five #2
“I propose that the three of you remain in the tunnels. When anyone comes down here to check on us, you can kill them. You can hide in the tunnels, picking them off one by one. When it becomes too dangerous, you can slip into the different buildings and pick off the stragglers. Once darkness falls, you’ll be able to slip away without anyone the wiser. ”
None of the vampires react outwardly, the three of them so still when they stare at me that it’s creepy.
I don’t even think they’re breathing. I listen carefully, but I can’t pick up even an echo of their heartbeats.
The myth that vampires don’t have a heartbeat is bullshit.
They’re just very good at slowing it down and muffling the sound, enabling them to sneak up on their prey.
His smile is slow to form, his fangs flashing in my direction, and he dips his head. “It would be our pleasure.”
I repress a shudder at the malicious gleam in his eyes, and I’m very grateful not to be on the receiving end of his anger.
It takes some shuffling, minor arguments over picking teams. A few of the supernaturals are displeased to be paired with other species, but they can suck it up. This is the only way that works without sacrificing anyone.
We gather everyone together, confirming everyone is aware of their part in the plan, and I note the vampires have already disappeared, their movements so silent that no one saw them depart.
That’s not freaky at all.
The witch guides us toward the back entrance, the passageway leading to a store in the middle of town. Dante and Garth are at the front, waiting by the hidden door. They’re listening to noises above us, their heads cocked much like their animal counterparts.
They’re different than the people of Kyperian. They’re more connected to their beast, like it is truly a part of them. Anyone who loses control in Kyperian is often sent to be reconditioned. Those who return are never the same, jumping at their own shadows, looking at everyone else suspiciously.
Even as teenagers, when our beasts first emerge, we’re collared.
The only time we’re allowed to shift is in a controlled class setting. When we can prove that we are in charge, we’re allowed to leave without our collars. The practice is so commonplace that I didn’t realize it was the council’s way of breaking our animals and conditioning them to obey.
Here, while their freedom might be restricted by their laws and alphas, they are not collared or imprisoned. Their beasts aren’t stripped from them if they disobey. Their creatures feel…alive. They’re powerful in a way that I didn’t think possible.
Not that anyone in Kyperian is weak.
Our beasts are the most dangerous in the world, descended from some of the most ancient and powerful bloodlines. Too bad the council has beaten down everyone so much that they don’t realize the power they hold.
Garth’s intense blue eyes lock onto mine, as if he can sense me watching.
I don’t even pretend that I wasn’t staring…
and a pleased smile brightens his expression.
I don’t have a chance to smile back before Dante and Garth turn and ram their shoulders into the cellar doors, not even bothering with the locks first. The hinges don’t stand a chance.
Wood splinters, and the door disintegrates under their combined strength.
Swearing erupts above my head, feet thunder along the floor, and magic sparks in the air. I don’t hesitate to charge up the wobbly wooden steps, easily able to dodge Tyler as he tries to block my way. Bellamy is faster, catching me around the waist and snatching me off my feet.
Before I can protest, he deposits me on my feet, then presses a single finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. I open my mouth to question him, but he’s already gone, stealthily disappearing up the steps. I huff in annoyance…then freeze when blood spills down like a waterfall.
The curtain of red streams down the stairs, dripping from one step to the next, and I’m unable to turn away as the bright red liquid relentlessly cascades closer and closer.
Air stalls in my lungs, then I’m charging up the stairs, footsteps splashing in the blood.
Just as I reach the top, I stop dead.
My brain had conjured up the image of Dante, Garth, and Bellamy being torn apart, dying as I waited below.
Body parts are strewn around the room. When I don’t recognize any of the many, many limbs, the crushing weight on my chest eases a fraction.
We’re standing in some type of old mercantile. A few groceries are scattered about the room, but most of the items resemble weeds, plants, books, and a few broken crystals. Bellamy is near the front of the store, stomping on the skull of a man who was reaching for the door.
He’s decorated with blood and gore, his face twisted in a snarl, his silver eyes swirling with his dragon, and I swear scales ripple under his skin before melting away. He doesn’t stop pounding on his opponent until the skull audibly cracks, splattering him and the area with brain matter.
Okay, then.
A few anger management issues, but I can’t fault the results of his method.
A thump comes from behind a large counter, and I hastily step toward it, grimacing when my shoes squelch loudly.
I grab my knife, then carefully lean over the top…
and can only blink when I see Dante nearly twisting a guy’s head off his shoulders, just a few ligaments keeping it attached.
Opposite him is Garth, shifted into his massive wolf form… chewing on a femur?
The beast instantly spots me, and his menacing fangs flash in a bloody, macabre smile.
His teeth are nearly as long as my fingers.
I don’t move, knowing better than to run in the presence of a shifter.
I wait for my wolf to rise at the threat.
Instead, she waits with her ears cocked, her tail wagging.
Fucking psychopath!
The black beast doesn’t attack but promptly drops the bone onto the counter with a meaty thud and a squish of blood. He waits expectantly, glancing at me, then back to the bone. When I don’t move, his eyes narrow and he nudges the femur toward me with his nose.
That’s when I realize it’s a…present?
My insides melt, my wolf woofing in pleasure, and a smile breaks across my face. “Aren’t you the sweetest?!”
I don’t hesitate to lean over and kiss him on his bloody snout.
His fur is so thick that it’s fluffy, and I’m absolutely delighted, my fingers twitching to sink into the ruff of his neck. The beast instantly stills at the touch of my lips, as if afraid to scare me away.
Silly beast.
I pull back only slightly, giving in to the temptation to scratch him lightly behind the ear. “Good boy.”
I’m a shifter, I know there is a human resting beneath the fur and claws, but that’s not who I’m talking to right now.
His bright blue eyes are all beast, the man nowhere to be seen.
The wolf lunges forward, his haunches flexing, and his front paws land on the counter.
Before I have time to pull back, he swipes his tongue across my face, then flashes me a cheeky, very toothy grin.
Hands clamp down on my hips, ready to yank me back, but I refuse to budge. I sputter and laugh at the rough texture of his tongue, pulling away long enough to swipe the slobber with my shoulder.
“Sneaky beast,” I mumble, my mock glare only lasting for a second before a big grin takes over my face. “Are you ready to fuck some shit up?”
His teeth snap together twice, his snout pulled back with menacing glee, and his tail wags adorably. The hands on my hips slowly tug me backward, and I glance over my shoulder to see Tyler staring at Garth with wide eyes, his expression grim.
He doesn’t stop dragging me until I’m pressed against his chest, facing the opposite direction.
I bit my lip to hold back my amusement at their dramatics.
The rest of the shifters slowly emerge from the basement tunnel, already in their animal forms, their eyes wide at the slaughter. Instead of being wary of the carnage, tension leaves them as they witness the gore painting the shop, a few of them appearing eager to cause mischief.
A couple of the other supernaturals aren’t so enthusiastic, but two of them specifically eye the slaughter askance, tiptoeing away from the puddles of gore. I narrow my eyes on the two fae, confused and a little suspicious at their reaction to a little blood after everything they endured.
The fae are normally fastidious creatures, but they don’t hesitate to get bloody or seek retribution when they take offense at something. The only other fae in the group is slumped between two wizards, but even he side-eyes the other fae.
I wish I could say that it’s a trauma response, but the way they edge away from the rest of the group, like we carry a stench, is very telling. A young witch joins them, her nose stuck in the air, as though she’s too good to involve herself in the matters of lesser beings.
The three are so self-important that they won’t hesitate to sacrifice anyone else if it means they will survive. None of them are as run-down as the rest of the group, and I wouldn’t put it past them to betray the others if it meant they would be spared.
My hands curl into fists, and it’s only Tyler’s grip on me that prevents me from confronting them.
Dante strides toward the back of the building, cracks the door, then searches the alley. After a moment, he pulls back and nods the all clear. The paranormals are silent as they shuffle into position. It’s not long before they depart two by two.
Though he doesn’t shift, Bellamy joins the other shifters on their mission. My insides twist at letting him out of my sight. While he hasn’t done anything overt to threaten me, I don’t trust him yet.
He’s Orion.
After everything I’ve endured, I doubt I’ll ever be able to let go of my fears.
He glances at me, a muscle jumping in his jaw, then his eyes narrow, as if warning me not to run, a silent vow that he will hunt me down.