Banewolf (Dark Siren Book 2) (27 page)

“It’s about time…you got here.” York forced his eyes open, but things were still dark, not leaving much to see. But Rhane was there. They had the chance to say goodbye. “Man…this hurts.” The pressure of a cough built,
and York prepared himself for the agony that would immediately follow. But this time more than pain accompanied the cough. Hot liquid spurted from his mouth, wetting both sides of his face. Rhane, looking about as freaked out as York had ever seen him, squeezed his hand.

“Easy,” Rhane said. Both his mind and heart were racing. York wasn’t dead.
The damage wasn’t too great for him to heal. But he knew from experience that taking away mortal injuries sapped nearly all of his strength. And the regenerative ability wasn’t like pushing a magic reset button. The wounds would be gone, but York’s body would still need time to recover from shock. He wouldn’t be strong enough to get himself out of the manor, and Rhane would be too weak to carry them both. But removing the spear without healing the wound would certainly kill York. The blood silver had done its work.

“Just keep still,” he said as York moved again.
There was another way. He just had to think of it.

“Don’t have much…of a choice…you idiot.”

“That’s right. Keep calling me names.”

York coughed again, expelling more blood. Rhane started to feel panicky.
Think.

A rafter from an upper floor crashed through the basement ceiling, but got caught in a cross section of debris. It swung in a pendulum of motion far too close for comfort, likely to drop on their heads at any moment. Rhane swore. The rafter fell. He covered York’s body as best he could and hoped nothing hit the spear and caused more damage. But the beam crashed harmlessly to the ground, showering them with a hail of cinders.

As Rhane lifted himself again, he spotted a dark object taking shelter nearby. It was Bailen.

York followed
his gaze. “Yeah…he’s an idiot too…wouldn’t leave.” In truth, he had been grateful for the canine’s resolve to stay at his side. Bailen was limping. One paw held tenderly off the floor, he took several steps toward them. York wondered what had happened.

Rhane choked out another swear. The situation was hopeless. Now he had Bailen to worry about too. York was his best friend…had been since the day he’d saved
Rhane from river serpents, rescuing him from the underground lair. Their path together couldn’t end like this.

Seeing so much fear
in Rhane’s expression, seeing the helplessness in his eyes was too much for York. A surge of strength fed his limbs, and he struggled to sit up. “You’re thinking too much. Just pull it out. I’ll be okay. I promise. Get us out of here.”

“I told you to stay still.” Placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder, Rhane eased York back down. “That’s a fucking order.”

Still limping, Bailen made his way toward them at a quickened pace, picking though flames and fallen debris. More cracks rippled across the comprised ceiling, popping like muted gunfire. And then a second explosion ripped through the basement.

#

Kali remained outside, watching anxiously for Rhane and the others. It had been too long since he and River had gone inside. Just when Kali thought she would buckle beneath the weight of her worry, the front door opened. Only River emerged. Rion was cradled safely in his arms, but he looked bad. As River hurried closer, her eyes made out the copious amount of blood soaking their clothing. More blood poured from between Rion’s fingers from the hand latched around his throat. His skin was pale, his face drawn tight with pain.

“Oh my god, Rion!”

His eyes followed the sound of her voice but took another long moment to focus. He smiled weakly. His voice was a whisper. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Don’t do that,” Kali said. “
Don’t try to make me feel better.”

River lowered him to the ground and covered the young kin’s hand with his. “Let go. Save your strength. I will keep pressure on the wou
nd.” Rion obeyed, and paled even more as River pressed down on his throat.

Rion needed a doctor, but she was pretty sure the kin didn’t see those sorts of professionals. She fixed
a worried eye on River. “Where’s Rhane?”

“He is still inside.”

Gabriel stood nearby, red eyes deliberating every detail of the scene before him. “Hopefully, he has not remained within the eastern wing.” He moved closer, studying Rion’s injuries without direct comment. “That part of the structure will collapse at any moment.”

Knowing it was a crazy thing to ask, Kali did so any way. Maybe her plea would appeal to Cal. “Will you help him?”

“For anyone inside, survival is highly unlikely. To go in there would be suicide.”

As if to emphasize Gabriel’s words, anot
her explosion erupted. Chunks of burning wood blasted off the roof and walls, hurtling toward them like asteroids. Then the manor’s roof buckled and rippled inward.

“Get down!”

She’d heard Orrin’s shout, but couldn’t move. He pulled her beneath him, used his body to shield her from the chaos that rained down around them. When he let her up, the first thing she did was check on Rion. River still kneeled beside him. His white hair was in complete disarray. Though he sat perfectly motionless, River gritted his teeth. His face contorted as if under strain.

At first, Kali didn’t understand why. Then she saw flames burning the very clothing from River’s back. She yelled for Orrin. The big kin sprang into action, putting the fire out with his bare hands. Through it all, River never let go, never ceased keeping pressure on Rion’s wound.

“The fire is out,” Orrin said softly.

River gave him an odd look. “Thank you.”

Orrin blinked. “You are welcome.” He pointed behind them. “The fire in the manor also no longer burns.”

“Did you do that?” River asked, his cool eyes observing Kali.

Squirming underneath his icy gaze and the others who watched her, she shook her head. “No.” She looked around. “Where’s Ander?”

#

Rhane heard the roar of the ceiling giving in, followed by the walls and floor caving beneath its damaged weight. Debris seemed to come from all directions. There was no more time to think. He bit his arm, savagely tearing through dermis and muscle with his teeth. When enough of his blood flowed, he grabbed the spear and yanked it from York’s chest in one fluid motion. The wound began to heal instantly as his blood poured down his arm and into York’s chest.

But the fire was on top of them. He smelled skin
burning and knew it was his. White fur slowly rippled across his forearms, but healing York had weakened him. The transformation wasn’t happening fast enough.

Then the fire stopped advancing. It was a mystery Rhane thought he would worry about later. He was wrong.

Banewolf would be a shield from the collapse of the manor. Rhane only had to finish the transition and get everyone in position. Reaching out to pull Bailen beneath him, he was shocked when his fingers touched human flesh. Rhane looked back. A teenage boy…kneeled on the basement floor. His eyes were gray like Kalista’s. His skin was dark, tanned like Rhane’s. Concentration was inscribed deeply on the boy’s face. Rhane knew it was he who held the fire at bay.

The rafters groaned. They c
ould take no more of the strain.
No.
The beams snapped outward.
No.
Rhane was too weak. The wolf would not emerge before the collapse. Bailen and York would be killed.

The boy’s eyes
had closed. It didn’t seem as if he realized what was happening. Rhane snatched him to his side. Covering Bailen and York as well as possible, he braced for impact that didn’t come. As he looked up, he could have cried with relief. Ander had caught the falling rafters, supporting more than a ton of burning weight on his shoulders. There was no sign of the pain it must have caused him.

Sadness crushed the brief reprieve
of joy in Rhane’s heart. “Thank you, brother,” he said just before his mouth disappeared. Ander inclined his head slowly. Then the kindred’s body folded beneath the massive burden. And Rhane saw only darkness as the manor came down around them.

Daylight tickled Rhane’s eyelids, dragging him from a troubled slumber. His dreams were filled with ash, blood, and loss. Real life didn’t differ much from the dream. The smell of
soot was strong in the air. And so was the smell of blood. He sensed the loss before meeting York’s solemn stare that confirmed it.

From the position of the sun, Rhane guessed he’d been out for less than three hours. He pushed himself upright, exhaling a breath as he did so to make the transition easier. Large blisters covered most of his arms and shoulders. He could only imagine what his back must have looked like.

“Easy there, big guy,” York said softly.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, he felt another presence in the room. His eyes found Bailen and returned the canine’s quiet appraisal. Bailen had become more of a mystery than ever.

“I saw him too.”

Rhane didn’t shift his gaze away. “Yeah.”

“He looked like you.”

“He looks like Kalista.”

“We’re not going to tell her about this are we?”

“No.”

York was silent for a long moment. It wasn’t just Bailen on his mind. Rion, Warren, Ander…He didn’t know where to start. Luckily, Rhane did.

“Did we find War?”

“He’s gone.”

“And Ander?”

“Gabriel helped dig everyone out.” York swallowed the rising bitterness. Anguish creased Rhane’s features. “Ander didn’t make it.”

“He died well.”

“He saved our asses.”

Rhane nodded, feeling only
anger where gratitude should have been. “Yeah.”

“And so did Bailen.”

“Yeah.” Rhane steadied himself before asking the next question. He stared at the floor and took a deep breath, needing to be prepared for the answer, and held completely still as if moving might have changed the outcome. “What of Rion?”

“He’s…hanging on.” York shook his head. “The
thing that attacked him, she didn’t just slit his throat. She filled the wound with her blood. The toxins in it are preventing him from healing. It doesn’t look good.”

Hit with a surge of adrenalin fueled by fires of rage, Rhane stood up from the bed. Anger made up for any strength he lacked. He strode over to the closet. Everything he pulled out was black: thick cargos, a long sleeved shirt, a hoodie, and a leather jacket. He dressed in everything except the jacket, tossing it on the bed.

A forty by twenty-eight inch painting of a kneeling priest hid a large safe recessed into the wall. Inside the safe was a small armory. After keying in the combination, he pressed his thumb to the access pad. The safe opened with a click.

“You’re not going to help Rion first?” York’s tone said he disapproved.

“If I heal Rion, I won’t have anything left to save War.” In addition to the Desert Eagle and its custom-made extended magazine, Rhane slid a 10mm Glock 20 into the second holster. He filled every pocket with extra ammo. “He’s tough. He’ll understand.”

York knew Rhane was right. Warren was gone and the trail to find him was disappearing by the second. By method of triage, Rion was still alive to fight for his life. War’s actual fate was yet to be revealed. But everyone knew he was in serious trouble. They all felt it. Still, someone had to speak for Rion. “You won’t forgive yourself if he doesn’t make it.”

With a mirthless laugh, Rhane shrugged into the leather jacket. “I’ll add it to the damn list.” Then he strapped Bellefuron’s scabbard between his shoulder blades and walked out the door.

York followed him down the hall to where Rion was resting. The boy’s
original room was in a part of the manor destroyed by the fire. Orrin sat at the edge of a huge bed occupied by Rion’s small form. Matthias was close by. Not seeing Kalista with them, Rhane began to wonder.

Rion’s eyes fluttered open as Rhane approached the bedside. He greeted
him weakly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Rhane echoed and grasped the boy’s hand.

Rion licked his lips. They were chapped and ashen like the rest of his skin. Dark blotches tinged his cheeks. “Sorry about this.”

Rhane frowned. “Are you trying to piss me off? Don’t apologize for anything.”

“She took the computer…the finished program.”

“We’ll deal with that later.”

Rion mustered a grin. “I made a backup.”

“That’s good, Rion. You did well.”

The boy squinted, considering him with eyes covered in a thin milky film. “Looks like you’re geared up for a hunt…Are you going to get Warren now?”

He knew he’d said he wouldn’t. Knew that he shouldn’t. It would compromise the mission. But Rhane couldn’t leave him like this. Feeling York’s intense stare,
he opened a shallow cut on his left hand. Lowering his forehead to Rion’s, they embraced as kinsmen. And with his blood flowing into the jagged wound that had nearly split the boy in two, he willed the remainder of his healing strength to Rion and damned the consequences. He would save them both.

In a few seconds, Rion’s eyes cleared. His skin
regained some of its color. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“Don’t mention it.” Moving back, Rhane let sternness deepen his voice. “I leave you with one order, Rion. Hear it.”

The boy came to rapt attention, lifting his head from the pillows.

“Don’t die.” He squeezed Rion’s hand. Jerking his body up slightly from the bed, Rhane repeated the order. “Do not die.”

“I think I can handle that.”