17. Viktor
Viktor
Hearing my own howl from someone else’s throat was a new step of surreal in a night that had been almost nothing but surreal.
Still, it was a smart move from Daire. Or my wolf in his head, whoever had decided on it. Both, since I knew better than anyone that being a werewolf wasn’t like having two personalities.
We ran through the woods, and suddenly I was the liability, because Daire as my wolf was quick and agile, even though he seemed to be bigger than Daire himself. My wolf, I supposed, so even if it was coming from him, it was still me.
Too bad I didn’t think he was suited to fighting, because I knew that body could do some major damage to witches.
Would his bite turn them? An interesting conundrum, and I wasn’t entirely sure about the answer. It should, since he was sort of a werewolf. And yet, in fact, he was not.
I doubted they wanted to try being bitten to find out, and more than that, I was sure biting people wouldn’t be in Daire’s immediate instincts.
My wolf might change that, though . . .
He definitely wanted to take a chunk out of a few witches. All of them, maybe.
They had accepted Ermengarde murdering her own son, so as far as I was concerned, Daire was the only redeemable one of the lot.
Not that I was looking forward to convincing the pack of that.
They’d been hard pressed enough to accept Tristan, and he was one of us now. Daire wasn’t getting the bite. I wasn’t even sure it would work on him, given that he was sort of a werewolf already. Maybe like most witches, he would just die.
Crashing through the woods on two legs, I couldn’t hear if the pack was coming. Wolves were quieter than humans, and more than that, my human ears, while my wolf was literally busy being someone else’s body, weren’t all that good.
What I could hear, unfortunately, was SUVs zooming their way up the road toward the pack settlement.
It was the last thing the pack needed, those damned witches coming back.
On the other hand, once they had the pack’s attention focused on them, they were likely to flee again.
They really didn’t like to fight us in person because while their magic was certainly a threat to us, we were harder to kill than they were.
A werewolf could be half gutted and survive, as long as they didn’t die immediately.
One little bite and a witch was down for the count.
I turned my head for long enough to get a glimpse of car windshield through the trees. Dammit, they were close enough to see. I hoped the previous spell was still in effect, and they couldn’t see us, or at least we were slightly obscured, but I wasn’t going to count on it.
Trusting in my safety wasn’t something I’d ever done, and that caution had never let me down.
I was still alive, after all.
I’d just turned back to look ahead so I didn’t do something ridiculous like crash into a tree when I heard it.
The first howl that wasn’t from Daire’s throat. My throat? Whatever.
Behind me, I heard the screech of tires on gravel as the nearest SUV slammed on their brakes. Clearly, the witches didn’t want to see the pack any more than they’d ever wanted that.
Still, I didn’t think Ermengarde would stop urging them on. They’d been in the middle of this spell, and I thought she was pretty damned invested in it. In making herself a witchwolf, no doubt.
For my part, I was glad there was no chance it would work, and if I thought she was going to succeed for even a moment, I’d swallow my own tongue to keep it from happening. My wolf would never be inside that monster, in any way other than my claws ripping at her organs.
I would eat her heart under the full moon and howl my victory to any who would hear.
Daire started to slow down, and for a second I worried he was too confident about the pack’s intervention. Or maybe he was tired, because even with my wolf, he was still Daire, and I didn’t think he had a lot of practice running. Or a lot of interest in it.
But then I could hear it.
The wolves in the trees.
The pack was coming.
I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but with Daire slowing down and curving into me, I was reminded that this issue was far from over.
When Aleks came striding out of the woods, firmly in his human skin and wearing his usual work clothes, he did a double take. “Viktor . . . and Viktor. What the fuck is going on?”
Right, because they didn’t know, so this was even more strange for them. As far as they knew, they were literally seeing two of me.
Daire, meanwhile, had angled himself all the way behind me, and he was letting out a low continual whine, like he was a dog who expected someone to roll up a newspaper and start smacking him, and not a full-grown wolf who could and would snap their fingers off for the audacity of attempted animal abuse.
Before I could even think long enough to start a sentence explaining why there were two of me, or where I’d gone, or what had happened, things got even more strange.
Drew, whom I’d been carrying without even thinking about it, started to get heavier in my arms.
I stared down at him for a second, and that was long enough for the whole world to go topsy-turvy, as Drew, my innocent brother’s little raccoon friend, turned into a .
. . a man? Sort of. A boy, maybe. He was even shorter than Daire and twig-thin, with warm brown-red skin, long, perfectly straight, inky black hair and the deepest brown eyes I’d ever seen.
He coughed once, clearing his throat, and then tugging on my hand, trying to get me moving again. “We have to go. The witches are coming. Please. They’ll kill you like they killed my parents. Please!”
There were tears in his dark eyes, and he looked up at me like me getting killed by the witches was the very worst thing he could think of.
It was like a blow to the belly, that look.
Without a thought, I nodded to him, then looked up at Aleks.
“The witches are following us. Let’s get back to the compound and more safety, and I’ll explain everything.
” I turned to look at Daire, still cowering behind my legs, but staring at Drew like he was both shocking and fascinating. “You too. Come on.”