Chapter 9
Shane
I hated that I was actually compelled to do as he said.
The scream had been Sorcha, and there was no way I’d leave her at the mercy of whoever was attacking the estate.
I fought the hold on my mind and body, my wolf raging until sweat covered my skin and ran down the groove of my spine.
I slapped my palms against the mirrored closet door and fought to get to my feet.
Pain ripped through my head. Staggering, I made it to the door.
Not giving a shit about my nakedness, I yanked it open.
My skull felt like it was going to explode as I stepped out of the room, but, no matter my discomfort, I wouldn’t stay hidden in a fucking bedroom like a weak-assed coward while Sor and Bal were in danger.
Holding on to the bannister, I dragged myself to the top of the curved staircase. The need to head back to the bedroom almost overwhelmed me, but the further away I got, the more the pain in my head receded. By the time I’d hit the bottom step, I was upright and able to take a full stride.
I knew better than to panic and run blindly into an unknown situation.
I inhaled. Bal’s scent still lingered, but it was drowned out by a bunch of scents that I didn’t know.
I heard the sound of wood and glass splintering somewhere towards the back of the castle.
Glancing around, I looked for a weapon. There were none in this part of the castle, but I knew where there were some.
Many, in fact. Silently, I made my way through the dim corridors to the main doors.
The foyer had dozens of old swords, lances and axes displayed on the walls.
It didn’t matter if they were sharp or not.
I could easily kill with them. I’d been forced to use all kinds of weapons in the fight rings of the prison.
With as little noise as possible, I unhooked a sword from its display stand and, on silent feet, headed to the back of the old castle.
This was a part of Bal’s home that I’d never wandered through before.
It was dark, but it might as well have been lit like a beacon.
My sight was better than ever, and the sound of unfamiliar voices carried clearly.
My wolf growled, though I kept the sound contained.
They definitely weren’t voices I recognised, and I’d heard all of the guards that patrolled the castle and estate.
Fuck, had the gunshots been a distraction? Instinct told me they were. I padded along the corridor, pressing myself up against the wall and listening to what was being said.
“Where the fuck is it?”
“The map said it was here. Right fucking here. I don’t understand.”
“Search the wall again. It has to be here. We can’t go back without Hamilton.”
I lowered into a squatting position. My wolf rumbled, his desire for violence clear.
Gently, I placed the sword on the floor and straightened.
He was right. I didn't need a weapon. I was a monster now. Some kind of half-shift seemed to be favoured by my body, so instead of worrying about my inability to fully shift, I let my bones stretch. Blood coursed through my veins. Immediately, the stench of the intruder's scent sharpened, and my top lip curled. These strangers shouldn’t be in Bal’s home.
Savage anger rolled through me. My claws grew, my vision turning red. I stepped into the corridor beyond.
All the intruders continued to search the wall, unaware of the predator stalking them.
“Shit, we’ve been screwed,” one of them said, panic evident in his voice.
“No shit, Sherlock! That moron clearly didn’t have a clue. The boss is gonna have a field day with his sweet arse.”
The other one huffed, then froze. His attention shot to me, and his eyes widened.
He swung his gun in my direction, but he wasn’t quick enough.
With a bellow of rage, I swiped my razor-sharp claws at his neck.
His head rolled, bouncing against the floor, his blood a fountain that painted the walls red.
The sight briefly shocked me. As a wolf shifter, I could cleave open a throat with claws in a partial shift, but it would take more than one swipe to decapitate someone.
I raised my gaze and grinned at my enemy. Maybe being a shifter vampire wouldn’t be so bad.
“Get in here now! And bring guns. Lots of them!” one yelled into his mouthpiece.
“What the fuck are you?” whispered another, his eyes almost bugging out of his head.
Answering wasn’t necessary. I was the monster that went bump in the night, and the scent of my kill was like sweet nectar.
I licked my lips, let out an almighty roar and leapt.
This time, I drove my clawed hand through his chest wall.
Grabbing his beating heart, I ripped it out.
Saliva rushed into my mouth. Blood. Life.
I studied the organ and opened my maw. Then a voice in my head stopped me.
Bal didn’t want me to carry another’s scent.
I snarled and threw the heart down. I didn’t either.
Sudden burning pain ripped into my back.
I howled as that pain exploded through my chest. More gunshots rattled my eardrums, but the shock was momentary.
It was a mere second before I spun and charged at the ten or so Mades firing silver bullets at me.
I could feel the effects of the poisonous metal slowing me, but it was gone quickly, as if my body had just brushed it off.
I hit the yelling group of attackers and killed two instantly.
The next moment, I had my teeth embedded in another’s neck.
Not to feed, but to destroy. I howled as my wolf lent me more strength, his glee at shedding the blood of our enemies infecting me.
I needed more. I sprinted down the corridors chasing their scents.
They split up, but I followed the strongest scent into the kitchen.
The thud of several knives hitting my chest and abdomen registered just before the pain did. Still, I hunted, determined to catch my prey. I wanted them dead. I wouldn’t drink from them, but I would destroy them for invading my home…Bal’s home, and for threatening Sorcha.
It took me less than two minutes to end the three heavily armed soldiers.
That's what they were, soldiers. They were kitted out in dark uniforms and bulletproof vests, with weapons belts and state-of-the-art communication devices. I stood over my kills. I spat blood from my mouth. It was bitter and tasted foul...like death. I’d ripped out their throats with my fangs but the taste of them was disgusting.
Nothing like Balthzar’s. Pain flared in my stomach reminding me I’d been injured.
I looked down and scowled at the knives still embedded in my flesh.
Snarling, I plucked them out and dropped them on the marble floor.
“Shit!”
Slowly, I spun around to face the owner of that shaky voice.
A vampire in his late twenties, or at least that’s how he looked, stood just inside the broken back door.
His face and scent were familiar, but I didn’t care; his weapon was trained on me.
And the need to kill, to protect was all I could think about.
My wolf urged me forward, and I attacked.
An enemy was an enemy. He had a gun, and it was pointed at me.
We barrelled through the kitchen door, and I slammed him into the ground.
It was then that I realised slamming my claws into his chest hadn’t worked.
He had a stab-proof vest on. Gods only knew what it was made of because my claws were embedded in it, not his chest. He grunted, and his eyes changed to a deep red, his fangs growing right before his muscles bunched.
I expected the strike to my chest and managed to twist enough that he only punctured my side.
It wasn’t enough to slow me down, though.
Blood seeped from the back of his head where I’d rammed him into the floor, and my stomach growled at the coppery scent.
I wanted it. No matter how much my brain told me I didn’t want anyone’s but Bal’s, my body and my instincts were taking over.
I could hear his heart pounding and blood rushing through his veins.
Even the scent of his fury and confusion was sharp as he stabbed me over and over.
The sting of his blade hardly registered, only the deep, tearing hunger and need to feel his blood rush over my tongue.
“Shane! Stop!”
Before I could sink my teeth into the raging vampire beneath me, I was flying through the air.
It wasn’t until my back slammed through the kitchen wall, exploding bits of brick and plaster everywhere, that I registered it was Bal yelling at me.
I landed on the oak floor of the kitchen, but before the pain could incapacitate me, I snarled and flipped up to my feet, heedless of the blood pouring from my body.
My eyes found his, and I snarled. My fury spiked as a groan came from my enemy.
He was trying to get off the floor. He had invaded our home…
“Enemy,” I managed to snarl around my fangs.
Bal stood in front of the vampire, and that only incited my rage. He was protecting an enemy...from me.
“Shane, look at me. Not him.”
I did.
“This is Elliot. You know him, he’s on my team and is Dav’s mate. He’s not an enemy.”
I shook my head, trying to process his words. He had smelled different from the others. He was also dressed differently… My stomach growled. But he was blood. I gave a low and vicious rumble and fixed my eyes on my prey.
“Elliot. Leave. Now.” Bal’s words were calm and commanding, just like they had been with me. Jealousy ripped at my chest, and I took a step forward. I’d get rid of this vampire. He wasn’t worthy of Bal’s protection, and he wouldn’t take what was mine…
Elliot scrambled to his feet and walked backwards, his eyes on me. I watched him, ready to sprint past Bal.
“Shane!” Bal’s voice was sharp, and I felt that familiar pressure pushing down on my brain. I shoved it aside, my eyes still fixed on Elliot. Gods, I was so damned hungry, and disgusting blood coated my tongue. It was foul, and this vampire’s would taste sweeter…
“Shane?” The sound of that sweet voice snapped me out of my fixation.