Kresley started screaming. “Snakes! Snakes!” She was swatting at herself again. “Snakes!”
“You bitch!” Lucan screamed. “I want to see Adrian. Bring him here.”
She laughed. “You think Adrian will come because you demand he come?” More laughter. “If you wish to stop her pain, claim her, Knight. Make her yours, then she will belong to us, too. Then, we will allow her the pleasure of peace…and she will be your little pet for eternity.” Evil laughter. “And ours. I’ll give you some time to think it over.” She shifted back to snake form.
Lucan tried to set Kresley aside and lunge for the sword Jag had given him, where it leaned on the wall, but it was too late. Litha was back on Kresley’s arm, and Kresley was screaming so insanely, he was sure hotel security would be knocking on the door any minute.
Lucan grabbed his phone, as he struggled to pull Kresley close, and dialed Marisol. No answer. He wanted to scream like Kresley. What happened to "he wasn’t alone"? He felt really damn alone right about now. He flung the phone across the room. Buried his head in Kresley’s neck and squeezed his eyes shut.
Fear gripped his heart, familiar fear, that same fear that had led him to the edge of poor judgment once before. How long could her heart handle this? How long could he bare watching her endure this pain.
***
There could be only one Healer – or two, in the case of the twins, the future healers, whom Marisol had been mentoring. And they were born Healers, born into a bloodline of Angels. She was created, sentenced for crimes of her past. She’d known her time was limited in this realm when they had appeared, knew she would soon be forced to depart. That she would have to leave behind the love of her life, Rock. And that she must accept this destiny bravely, as bravely as the Knights lived and fought.
She stood on the porch at the ranch house, watching as the dark-haired, twins walked toward her – she'd come to seek them out. In her arms she cradled her most precious possession, The Book of Knowledge, knowing she must soon give it up. Only a Healer could read its pages, and many were simply blank to her when they should not be. She was fading, her abilities with her, and Kresley was suffering for it. Her chest squeezed as the twenty-year-old brothers, Jacob and Jared, stepped to the top of the porch. They were young, only twenty, long lives ahead of them.
Tears fell from her eyes as she said, “I need your help reading the book. I need … to save Kresley and Lucan.”
***
Dampness clung to Lucan’s cheeks. A mixture of Kresley’s tears and perhaps his own. He didn’t know. He knew nothing but the hurt in her. It hurt him. It hurt so damn bad.
“Lucan.” His head snapped up, and he saw green eyes, raven hair, a white dress. An angel? How long had he been rocking Kresley? How long had she endured this pain?
“Marisol?” She touched his head, and a calming warmth spread through him– his mind became clearer, his fear faded.
“Marisol.” This time it wasn’t a question.
“Hold her arm steady,” she said.
“I don’t want to overdose her. She just had an injection.”
She gave him a reprimanding look and inserted the needle. “Never question your Healer.” She tossed the empty syringe aside. “Now, we wait.”
“What was that?”
“Your serum,” she said. “The one you worked on to save the unmated Knights. It is supposed to suppress the Beast’s control, right?”
“Yes,” he said, hope fading. “But it never worked. I tried and –"
“Laura found your notes. She’s made it work, but only for a few hours at a time. It’s not a permanent answer, but it stops her pain and ends this manipulative game the Demons are playing.” Marisol smiled. “Laura has ordered you back to the ranch to help her perfect your serum so we can save the unmated Knights.” Kresley let out a sigh and went limp, the medication clearly taking effect. The bracelets seemed to squeal, sharp, animal-like, and then slid off her wrists and faded away. Lucan grabbed Kresley, checked her breathing, checked her pulse.
She blinked up at him. “Lucan?”
He kissed her, hugged her. Turned to Marisol and hugged her. “Thank you, Healer. And thank Laura.”
“Don’t thank me or Laura,” Marisol said as he eased his hold on her. “You did this. And thanks to your serum, many Knights will have an extended chance at salvation. You did this, Lucan. Your medicine, your ability to save lives. Keep working on it. Perfect it.”
She looked at Kresley, who was becoming more coherent by the minute, and then withdrew another syringe. “This one is from the Book of Knowledge."
Lucan stared at the thick, blood-like serum. “Is that–?"
"A mixture of Jacob and Jared’s blood,” she confirmed. “It is written in the book that ‘the Twins will defeat the twins.’” She went on to quote, “‘With the blood of the twin healers, the beast will defeat the serpents, so that man will be victorious.' In other words. When you mate, the Guardians will try and claim Kresley through your bond. Your beast is empowered by the twin’s blood and will defeat them. Your mating will bind your beast and then you will be free.”
She injected Kresley’s arm, ran a palm over the injection site, a light spraying from her fingers. Marisol relaxed and looked at Lucan. “Mating for you will not be like that of other Knights. It will be a painful struggle between your beast and the Guardians, against them claiming Kresly, but worth it – joyous success in the end.” She touched his face; calming warmth spread across his jaw. “Let's go home so you can claim your mate, Knight.” She touched his face. “We miss you both.”
She touched their arms and the three of them shimmered out of the room. Lucan found himself alone with Kresley, on top of his old bed inside the main Jaguar Ranch house. He hugged Kresley tightly to him, the mate who had truly healed him. The mate he could finally claim – if she would have him. If she would dare open her heart and let him inside.
“I love you, Kresley,” he whispered. “I love you so very much.”
And he would face whatever pain Marisol spoke of a million times over to save Kresley.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Of course, Prince Risen wasn’t answering his phone again, and she didn’t know Jag’s number. She was trying to help them save Cullen and that ring, but they were making that a tough task.
Tara took the stairs to the vacant subway leading to the underground warehouse where Nick’s rebels were headquartered, having slipped from the hotel room when the chaos had begun with the Guardians' attacking Kresley.
She feared for Kresley, of course, but there was nothing she could do. There were many people there to look after Kresley, and someone had to help Cullen and protect the ring. Not that Jag and the Fae weren’t worthy opponents to the wolves. They were, indeed. But according to the coven, there were a good twenty wolves holding Sheila and her family captive. It was up to the coven to ensure Cullen didn’t give up that ring.
And she had a plan. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing. Once she gave the word, the coven would gather for a spell casting, ready to seal off the warehouse. The coven knew a spell that would contain anyone inside for as long as the coven could hold the magic–which wouldn’t be long. It was a complicated piece of magic, difficult to pull off at all – let alone for any length of time. But she had to make sure everyone else was out safely first, and that they had a way of dealing with the wolves once they were sealed inside.
Tara rounded the final corner leading to the warehouse when Prince Risen appeared in her path. She ran smack into his big body, and he had to steady her to keep her from falling.
“Why are you here?” he demanded.
She ground her teeth. “If you answered your phone for once, you would know.” She explained the coven spell.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And I should trust you why?”
Jag orbed to their side. “We need to move now. We can’t wait on the others. Cullen has entered the warehouse, and Nick has guns to the hostages
' head. Cullen might be able to handle them on his own, but I, for one, am not willing to take that chance. Nick might well take out a hostage to try and contain Cullen’s actions. And killing even one of the hostages is unacceptable. We'll take out the gunmen, and let Cullen scorch the rest of them."
“Agreed,” Prince Risen said.
“There are three of them and only two of you,” Tara said. “You'd have to get rid of all three guns at once.”
“We'll manage,” Jag said and handed her the phone. “Memory ID 1 – Call Des and explain what’s going on.” Tara didn’t have time to argue. Jag and Prince Risen disappeared.
She dialed Des, and he answered quickly. She explained the situation, and then gave him the number for the coven member who was on standby for the spell. She hung up before he had a chance to question her.
There were teenage boys in that warehouse, boys close to the same age as her brother. Kids shouldn’t be involved in this. Her brother might not survive this – her chest tightened – probably hadn’t survived this, but those boys in that warehouse were going to survive. She took off running.
***
Inside the dingy warehouse, filth surrounding them, Sheila and her two sons lined up a few feet from Cullen, guns pointed at their heads. He’d worked centuries to give his wolves lives to be proud of, and this is what these rebels had reverted to? Dirt? Grime? Using innocent humans who could not defend themselves for personal gain? It disgusted him.
He did not look at the humans; instead, he focused on Nick who stood directly across from him. He could smell the humans' fear; he did not need to see it as well. He could also smell the fear of the wolves holding the guns to their heads. They were afraid he would destroy them and rightfully so. If it were not for his fear that a bullet would hit one of the humans, he would kill the rebels and be done with it.
“If I die,” Nick stated flatly, “they’ve been instructed to kill all the humans immediately.”
Sheila sobbed. One of her kids called out. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay.”
“I’m going to enjoy killing you, immensely,” Cullen said coldly.
“You’ll be dreaming that dream in the grave,” Nick promised. “Here’s how this is going down. You take off the ring and toss it over here. If you don’t, one of Sheila’s kids dies. Should I kill one now? So you know I’m serious?”
Cullen contemplated his options. He had the skill to take out the three wolves fairly instantaneously. But not Nick at the same time. So if the hostages survived without random gunfire hitting any of them, Nick could still kill them. Then again, Cullen was pretty damn pissed. Maybe he could take out all four at once. It seemed he had no option but to try.
He steeled himself to act when an explosion of activity took place. Jag and Prince Risen appeared a platform, the weapons ripped from two of the wolves' hands, freeing the mother and one boy. Cullen immediately destroyed the disarmed wolves, imagining a fire bullet expanding in their chests. They crumbled to the ground. The Prince disappeared with the two hostages as Jag reached for the third wolf, and they exchanged blows. The boy that the wolf had been holding panicked and took off running rather than waiting for rescue. He stumbled and fell to the ground, an easy target.
Nick immediately turned to the boy and pointed a gun, daring Cullen to kill him when he might well pull the trigger and take the boy with him. Then, out of nowhere, Tara appeared, materializing out of thin air and throwing herself on top of the boy. Cullen reacted instinctively. He exploded fire in Nick’s chest, killing him, but any joy he might derivedfrom that was forgotten as he rushed for Tara.
He grabbed her and pulled her to her feet as Jag grabbed the boy and disappeared. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“There are worse things than death,” she said, tilting her chin up in defiance a moment before the Prince appeared next to them and clasped their arms, orbing them to the outside of the building.
Cullen blinked the parking lot into view and forced himself to let go of Tara. He’d never met anyone like her, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. A group of Knights awaited, ready for attack. From there, a whirlwind of activity took place. The coven locked down the building, and with the help of the Knights, the rebel wolves were rounded up.
***
It was hours later when Cullen once again stood outside the warehouse with Jag and Prince Risen by his side.
Jag had offered to covertly place several Knights within his staff to help fend off a potential attack from Adrian, but Cullen respectfully declined the offer, at least for the time being. This was a new relationship between wolves and Knights, and time would see it develop, as they both vowed to make the Council a success.
Jag shook each of their hands. “A few of my Knights will remain here for the rest of the week, but if you need them longer, simply let me know. Otherwise, I’ll see you both when the Council convenes.” He turned to Prince Risen. “I understand from Salvador you protected my Knight.” He inclined his head. “I am in your debt.” He didn’t wait for a reply.
He orbed away, leaving Cullen and Risen. “I’d say the Council is off to a good start,” Prince Risen said.
“Perhaps,” Cullen said. “But I don’t like secrets, Fae. You kept far too many from me.”
“Nor do I, Wolf,” Prince Risen said. “Nonetheless, secrets are sometimes necessary.”
“Secrets do not build trust,” he countered.
“What wins your trust, Wolf? Sacrifice? Blood? Submission? You have much to face in the future. Perhaps you should decide how you will judge those around you. But remember that you must be willing to be judged by your own standards.”
Those words didn’t sit well–not well at all. Not with Tara on his mind. Had he been fair to her? He wasn’t sure he liked the answer to that question. The Prince seemed to read his mind, “She left me a voice mail. She's resigned from the Council and is leaving town.”
“Leaving?” he asked, knowing he meant Tara. “When?”
“Tonight.”
“I need to go,” he said, already reaching in his pocket for his car keys. He needed to see her before she left.
***
Nervous that Adrian would show himself, Tara finished packing a small bag and headed for the door of her apartment. She would send movers for the rest of her things, because she couldn’t escape this city fast enough. She needed time to heal, to regroup and recover – to mourn her brother.
She pulled the door open to find Adrian leaning on the wall. “Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Why do you care?” she challenged. “You can find me anywhere."
“I’ve already found you.”
She stepped into the hall, let the door shut. This was public. Or some-what public. It felt safer. She tried to pass him. He held her arm. A shiver raced down her spine as he said, “He’s not dead . .. yet.”
She wanted to believe that and he knew that. He enjoyed her discomfort, her fear. Her pain. She could see it in his eyes. “What do you want from me this time?”
“He stays with me,” Adrian said. “Then one day you will grant me a favor, nice and proper, and I’ll consider releasing him.” He yanked her toward him, his lips going to her ear. “One day when you least expect it, I will find you again.” He disappeared.
She sucked in a breath. Not if I find you first. Because that was her new mission in life. Find a way to destroy Adrian. She forced herself to walk, reminding herself that her taxi would soon arrive.
When she reached the street to find it waiting, she didn’t look back as she climbed inside. The car started to pull away. A loud pounding sounded on the roof and they halted.
“What the—"
She rolled down the window and suck in a breath. “Cullen.” Handsome, cold-hearted Cullen.
“You resigned from the Council? Leaving town?”
“How did you know?”
“Prince Risen.”
A fine time for Risen to choose to check his messages. “It’s for the best.”
“Stay.”
“No.”
“I’ll help you find your brother. We’ll find him together.”
“Everything you do is to protect the pack. I’m not a part of that. I can’t be. And you could never trust me, anyway.”
“I’d like to try.”
Try. The truth was, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Only that she was going to make Adrian pay.
“Don’t. Don’t try.” She reached for the window controls, spoke to the driver. “Go, please.” Then to Cullen. “Goodbye, Cullen.”
They pulled away, and she looked behind her, saw him standing where the cab had once been, staring after her. But he’d get over it, over whatever drew him to her. Had she stayed, she wasn’t sure she would have done the same with him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lucan held Kresley as she slept, and the comfort of his familiar, faded brown comforter and wood-paneled room surrounded him with hope that this really would be home again. She’d slept for several hours, an aftereffect of the earlier sedative he’d given her.
Jag had returned with news of the hostages' safety, and Des had come in with a few smart remarks that amounted to a showing of support. And as much as he wanted Kresley to wake up, he was content to hold her, to know she was safe.
“I love you, too,” Kresley murmured in his arms, as if she were responding to the confession he’d made hours before. The words traveled to his heart, wrapped him in warm satisfaction. But she was still in a daze, still barely awake. He did not dare hope she meant them, yet he did dare – dared with all his soul.
He slid his hands into her hair; he loved the silky texture, the fiery red that matched her personality when angry, but so contrasted with the softness of her many other moods.
“Kresley, sweetheart, wake up,” he said, trying to control how she woke, limit her disorientation.
She blinked up at him, lashes fluttering with the effort. She cast him a groggily sweet look with those beautiful green eyes. “I like it when you call me that.”