Heart of the Wolf, page 23
part #9 of True Mates Generations Series
“Evan!” Her rage began to bubble when she realized he was totally limp, his head lolling back as Joanie walked closer. “What did you do to him?”
“Your little brat wouldn’t stop screaming his head off,” she complained. “Don’t worry, a little sleeping potion never hurt anyone.”
“I’m going to kill—”
“Shut up, both of you,” the main mage said.
“But, Krogan—”
“Let’s stop the theatrics.” Krogan turned back to Isabelle. “There’s your precious boy. Now, hand over the dagger.”
“No, I want him first.”
“I can kill him with the snap of my fingers.” Krogan’s voice was cold and emotionless. “Do you think I care for this child? I have no other use for him.”
Isabelle gritted her teeth. “But you need the dagger. Once your plan succeeds, you’ll kill him, and all of us, anyway. Just let me have this last night with my son.” Her own words made her want to vomit, but this was part of their plan. And the cue for the next part.
“Mother!”
They all turned to the doorway that led to the stairwell. Ransom stepped out, his arm around her father, a knife to his throat.
“Ransom?” Joanie’s voice shook. “Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me.” He dragged Grant with him as he shuffled forward. “I have him, Mother. See? Grant Anderson. He’s here.”
Joanie’s expression turned from shock to disbelief, until finally, her lips curled up. “Oh, Ransom! I knew you wouldn’t betray me. Darling boy, come here.”
He moved closer, keeping the knife pointed at his hostage’s throat. Isabelle could see the sick pleasure on Joanie’s face, and it made her stomach curdle.
“What the hell are you doing, woman?” Krogan groused. “We’re supposed to get the dagger! You can have your stupid revenge later!”
“When?” Joanie cried. “I’ve waited thirty goddamn years for revenge. You had so much power, and yet this one thing you couldn’t do for me. You kept me waiting, dangling Grant Anderson in front of me like a carrot on a stick. Well, no more. I don’t care about your stupid dagger!”
“Woman …” The mage warned. His followers moved forward, but he held them back. “Be reasonable, Caroline. Soon, they’ll all be dead, even Anderson.”
“Dead? Ha! Death would be too good for him.” Her teeth bared. “I want him to suffer. For every humiliation and indignity I’ve had to go through because of him!”
“That’s right, Mother,” Ransom said. “We’ll make him suffer. For what he did. Now, why don’t you hand Evan over to Isabelle, and we can get our revenge?”
Joanie laughed. “Oh no, Ransom! Can’t you see how perfect this is? How we can make him really pay for what he did?” Her eyes widened as she stared at Isabelle. “What better way to make Grant Anderson suffer than to hurt his precious baby girl and grandson, right in front of his very eyes while he can’t do anything to help them.”
The bile rising from her stomach made Isabelle’s throat burn. “You’re insane.”
“Shut up, you whore!” Joanie pointed the knife at her. “You’ll pay for your father’s sins.”
“Insolent bitch!” Krogan screamed at Joanie. “You’re ruining plans that were set in motion centuries ago for your petty revenge?” Hateful red eyes turned to Isabelle. “I’ll kill every last one of you here until you give me the dagger!” He advanced toward her. “I’ll—” He stopped short. “What’s going on?”
Isabelle’s heart pounded in her chest. Shadows began to creep around them like dark curling waves, filling every crack of light. Then, one by one, they appeared—Marc Delacroix and two of his relatives, plus Julianna, Duncan, Astrid, Zac, and Cross.
“You damned dirty dogs!” Krogan screamed. “Kill the child now, you bitch!”
Ransom let go of her father, and together, they lunged at Joanie. She screamed and tossed Evan in the air.
“Evan!” Isabelle shouted as she watched her son fly up in an arc toward the edge of the building. “No!”
It all happened so fast. Her wolf ripped out of her body, leaping forward. It sailed over Grant and Ransom as they landed on Joanie, hurtling toward the edge of the building. But they were still too far. Too slow. Isabelle screamed as she watched her son nearing the edge of the building and—
Poof.
A female figure appeared out of nowhere, arms outstretched as she caught Evan like a linebacker intercepting a football. But her son’s momentum made her teeter back, so Isabelle’s wolf stretched forward as far as it could, jaw opening up and teeth snagging on the woman’s shirt and pulled, sending them rolling backward.
Isabelle blinked. What the hell happened?
“Isabelle, you’re crushing me,” a pained groan said from somewhere underneath her.
The wolf rolled to its side, a sleeping Evan protected against the chest of the woman and the cage of her arms. It blinked at the woman who had been pinned under them.
“Phew!” Astrid stood up and glanced down at Evan with a tender smile. “Glad I caught this one right on time.”
Oh God. She had almost forgotten Astrid was a hybrid and had similar powers to Cross, albeit a limited range. She must have seen Evan flying off and transported herself just in time to catch him.
Isabelle quickly transformed back, and the first thing she did was embrace Astrid. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you for saving him.”
Astrid smiled at her. “Thank you for catching me. But, we’re not done yet.”
“I—Oh no! The dagger!” She must have dropped it when she shifted. But where was it?
It was pure chaos all around them. Wolves and witches were battling the mages. She saw Delacroix deftly weave in and out of the shadows as he dodged a mage who could throw balls of lightning. One of his witch cousins was using the shadows around them to contain a mage in a dark fog, while Julianna’s wolf was ripping into another’s throat.
“Get him to safety,” she told Astrid, then retraced her steps. There it was! The dagger was on the ground, the green jewel glinting even in the darkness. She dashed toward it, practically diving at it, but it was too late. A gray, ashen hand snatched it seconds before her.
“Finally!” Krogan held the dagger up in triumph. “Now we can fully revive the master!” He took something out of his pocket and smashed his hand onto the dagger. It dripped with something sticky and red, then he disappeared.
“No!” Isabelle scrambled forward, but he was gone. “Goddammit!” Her chest tightened, and tears clung between her lashes.
“Isabelle?”
She turned around. “Papa!” Flinging herself at him, she cried into his chest. “Papa, I’m sorry. I dropped the dagger when I went after Evan and—”
“Shh … shh, sweetheart, you did good.”
“But the dagger—”
“Evan is safe,” he said. “That’s all that matters. We always knew there was a possibility that they would get the dagger, and Evan’s life would always come first.”
“But what about the mages? And Magus Aurelius?”
“We’ll get them.” There was pure determination in his eyes. “I know it.”
“Isabelle.”
Her father’s arms loosened and fell to his sides before she turned. Ransom was staring at her, white as a sheet. “Evan’s fine. He’s—”
He snatched her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “I thought I’d lost you. Lost you both.”
God, his scent was so comforting right now, so she let him hold her. “I’m fine.”
Cross came up to them from behind Ransom. “We have to get a move on. I—” The hybrid’s eyes bulged as he realized she was naked. Glancing briefly at her, he waved his hands, and a shirt and loose pants appeared on her body. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Krogan must have had some of Reed’s blood, which allowed him to teleport using the dagger. He’s probably back at Lake Hope.”
“What’s the situation there?” her father asked.
“According to Dad, not so great.” His dark blond brows snapped together. “There’s no counter spell for the dome, and unless someone from the inside can stop the mages powering it like we did in Central Park, we can’t get rid of it. But,” he paused for a breath. “Seems they haven’t quite completed the required number of Lycans and humans yet, so they keep switching it on and off as they’re gathering more sacrifices. Dad’s waiting for an opening so he can slip in with a small group and turn it off.”
“We can’t just sit around and wait, though,” Grant said. “But also, the plan was to stage a full-scale attack should the mages get their hands on the dagger.” It was risky, but they knew it would have to be done.
“It’s all my fault,” Isabelle said. “I—”
“No one’s blaming you, sweetheart,” Grant assured her. “Besides, they would have done anything to get the dagger, and Evan might have been killed.”
“Let’s go get those bastards,” Ransom growled. “We can’t let them win.”
“Gather everyone,” Cross instructed. “I’ll be back in a sec.” He turned to Isabelle. “Your grandfather Noah, Gunnar and my Uncle Jackson and his wolves are ready to be transported to Lake Hope. I can bring Evan to their home in West Virginia, and Lily can take care of him. It’s safe and has all the protections.”
“Yes, please do. Where—”
“Here you go!” Astrid had already come up to them, Evan in her arms.
“Oh, baby,” she cried as she took him. She kissed his forehead. “I love you. Stay safe.” Her heart was wrenching as she handed him over to Cross, but she knew it was the right choice. The hybrid took him and disappeared.
“He’ll be fine,” Astrid whispered. “We sent Annaliese there too. Lily will take good care of them.”
She knew that, but she couldn’t help the tightness curling in her chest. “We need to stop these mages.”
Her father went off to see to everyone. They had some mage prisoners and dead bodies to take care of, plus a few minor injuries on their side, not to mention, Joanie. One of the members of the Lycan Security Force had taken her away in cuffs, strangely silent as she kept her head down and refused to look at anyone.
Isabelle watched Ransom as he stared after his mother. God, the expression of anguish on his face made her want to reach out and comfort him, but she was too scared. Instead, she stood next to him. Both remained silent, the tension between them stretched tight like a rubber band.
“Ready?” Cross reappeared moments later. Everyone was assembled around the helipad. “Hold hands, everyone.”
Her father took her left hand. On her right, Ransom cautiously took the other one.
“He said to hold hands,” he murmured.
She nodded, but kept her lips shut tight as she tried her hardest to ignore the rough, warm texture of his large hand around hers. The coldness of Cross’s magic wrapped around her, and she closed her eyes. Half a second later, the asphalt that was under her bare feet was now replaced with grass. When she opened her eyes, her Lycan senses adjusted to the darkness.
“It’s just over there,” Cross said, pointing to the ridge on their left. He touched his ear and winced. “Okay, gotcha, Lizzie,” he said into the communicator. Lizzie and the rest of her IT team were sitting in a van somewhere nearby, forwarding orders from Lucas and Mika and giving intel. “Dad’s already in. The dome is being dismantled as we speak.”
“Let’s move out,” her father ordered, and they all marched to follow him over the hill, trudging up until they reached the top and were able to look down.
“Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle!” Julianna burst out. “What the hell—”
Isabelle could see why her sister looked astounded. Up ahead of them, a humungous red dome made of pure light was stretched over a massive field. However, it was slowly shrinking, revealing hundreds of people under it. They all stood in neat rows, unmoving, like they were hypnotized.
“It’s the necklace,” Astrid explained. “They must have used Reed’s blood to supercharge it so they could control the humans and Lycans.”
Thunder broke through the silence in the air. But it wasn’t thunder. No, it was Lycans—hundreds of them—racing into the field from the east side.
“We need to go now.” The muscles under her father’s cheeks were already shifting, and his eyes glowed with his wolf. “They’ll need our help.”
“You know the plan,” Astrid reminded them. “I'll remain in human form and work as support to coordinate the fight and take anyone injured to safety.” She turned to Zac. “I love you, baby. Go get ’em!”
“Love you back.” With a savage growl, Zac shifted into his brown-blond wolf.
“You better get back to me in one piece, MacDougal,” Julianna said to Duncan as she was ripping off her shirt.
“Och, darlin’, don’t I always?” Her brother-in-law laughed and kissed his mate full on the mouth.
Her and Ransom’s gazes crashed, but she quickly turned away. There were more important things now, and they would have to save whatever it was that needed to be said for later. Quickly, she shifted into her wolf. While she was in tune with her Lycan side, she hadn’t really shifted this much since she was a teenager and learning to control her wolf. It was kind of freeing in a way. Her wolf was gorgeous, with glossy black fur and brown patches on its legs and belly. She told herself when this was all over, she would spend more time shifting. Her wolf liked the sound of that.
Fully transformed, she dashed into the fray with her companions. Up ahead, she could see that the red dome was gone and replaced with a dark, shadowy fog. Moving over five hundred people was simply not feasible, even with Daric and Cross working non-stop, not to mention, if any of the humans were to escape before they were doused with a forgetting potion, they could reveal their secrets. So they had decided to keep them where they were and put a protective shadow barrier around them, care of another of Delacroix’s witch relatives, so the mages would not be able to reach them for whatever ritual Magus Aurelius planned.
The Lycan forces were still outnumbered based on the surveillance they had conducted. The mages and their human troop numbers combined were over two thousand, while the Lycans and the witches and warlocks were three to four hundred. However, the idea was to draw the enemies into two different spots away from the hostages so they could put the next stage of their plan into action.
Isabelle had little experience fighting, but she did have the advantage of being a wolf, plus her super speed. Her wolf ran head on toward a group of humans, growling at them and dodging the bullets they shot at her. She could sense Ransom’s wolf beside her, following in her steps, then overtook her as he leapt at the group. Her wolf was miffed that it didn’t get there first, but nevertheless jumped right in, ripping and tearing at everything it could get its teeth and claws on.
A buzzing, piercing sound made her flinch. But neither the mages nor the humans noticed because it was set at a frequency only wolves could hear. That was the signal.
The wolves and their allies spread out into two groups, then began to retreat in separate directions. The humans and mages, seemingly energized by their enemies’ retreat, pressed on, not realizing that they were moving farther and farther away from their main encampment.
There was another buzzing sound—three short bursts instead of a long one this time, and Isabelle knew that was the signal to disperse. The wolves scattered away, as the humans and mages remained clumped together.
There was silence for about two seconds, which was broken with a loud, high-pitched screech, followed by a second one. The wind picked up around them, and then whipped furiously as the screeches became louder.
Isabelle looked up and gasped. Though she’d seen Sebastian Creed’s dragon once or twice while growing up, she’d never seen it quite like this. It looked menacing as it soared overhead, its giant golden wings flapping rhythmically to keep it afloat. Even more frightening was the sight of a second dragon—King Karim of Zhobghadi. His dragon was silver, but just as terrifying as Creed’s. The two colossal creatures swung in arcs around each other, then separated, heading toward the two groups of humans and mages. The humungous claws and gigantic mouths razed through the crowds, crushing through the mass of enemies. Many escaped, but the Lycans and witches were able to easily pick off the stragglers.
Isabelle was about to join in when she saw something in the distance. Near the shadow dome, a beam of yellow light burst out, shooting straight up into the sky. The atmosphere grew thick and crackled with electricity as a metallic tang wafted into her wolf’s nose. What the hell was that?
A hand touched her wolf’s flank. A human hand. For a second, she thought it was Cross, but it wasn’t. This man had cropped blond hair and a shorter, leaner build. Amber eyes gazed into hers.
“Remember me, Isabelle?” He smiled at her weakly. “We used to play at your house in Long Island when we were kids. I’m Gunnar.”
Gunnar Jonasson. Cross’s younger brother. But what was he doing here?
“You should come with me. Now.” He stretched his neck as his limbs began to grow, and white fur sprouted on his body. Red eyes bored into her, and the albino wolf swung its head, signaling for Isabelle to follow him.
What is going on? Still, she trotted after him, her gut instinct telling her this was right. Moments later, she realized they were running in the direction of the yellow light. It had grown even brighter now, and as they drew closer to the source, she gasped. A group of mages were gathered, the yellow beam shooting out from their circle. Immense power rippled from them, making the air smell thick, like smoke.
The albino wolf yowled to catch her attention and motioned with its head again. About twenty feet away from the circle of mages was a white table where a naked, dark-haired man lay prone on top, bloody and bruised. A large glass bowl was next to the table, catching the blood slowly dripping from the man’s neck. Three mages stood guard over him.
Gunnar had transformed back to his human form. Isabelle followed suit, pushing her wolf away until she gained control of their body. “Is he—”
