Sealed With a Curse (WG 1) (12 page)

A vamp scrambled to retrieve them following a small gesture from Misha. Shayna grinned upon feeling the weight of the ancient swords in her hands. “Cool.”

“I fear they are not as sharp as they once were,” Misha said slowly.

Shayna’s blue eyes sparkled. “Don’t worry. I’ll make them work.”

We headed into the foyer when an oh-too-familiar voice boomed from behind the thick doors.

“I’m not asking for an audience,” Aric growled. “I’m telling you, he
will
see me!”

The wide wooden doors crashed open, and my big,
badass wolf stormed through, flanked by the wolves from the club, a few unfamiliar
weres
, and oh, yeah, the blond she-wolf with the Victoria Beckham bob. I don’t know who was more shocked, them or us.

Oh, crap.

“Son of a
bitch
,” Taran muttered when she noticed Gemini.

I’d forgotten about Blondie, but she remembered me. Her eyes glared almost as fiercely as Aric’s when she saw me.

Almost.

Aric stalked toward me. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t wait for me to answer and fixed his scowl on Misha. “What is
she
doing here?”

For the first time since our arrival, Misha actually smiled. Although I wished I could say it lacked any malice. He snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “Celia is a friend. She is considering helping me in my quest to prove my innocence.”

I’d never seen a wolf implode. But I almost did then.

Aric grabbed my arm and yanked me from Misha’s grasp.

And that’s when all hell broke loose….

C
HAPTER 10

Everything happened at once. Emme screamed as werebeasts and vampires collided like a herd of angry buffalo. Growls and hisses erupted in a furious staccato, rattling the windows, framed paintings, and crystal chandelier. The she-wolf’s fist jetted toward my face. I ducked. She would have nailed Aric in the chest had Misha not tackled him
through
the wall and into the library. I shot after them, but the she-wolf seized my waist and launched me across the foyer. The bones of my back cracked when I bounced off the opposite wall. My ears rang, but not loudly enough to muffle a high-pitched squeal, the crunching of plaster, and the demolition of furniture.

I landed hard on my knees, more pissed than hurt, ready to rumble. I pushed off the floor and stomped toward the she-bitch, momentarily stunned by her appearance.

She lay near the massive hole Misha had made with Aric’s body. Her short blond bob stood on its ends, tips smoking. Taran must have jolted her with lightning in retaliation for taking me for a ride.

Sadly, she didn’t seem happy with her new look. “Ugly
freak
,” she spat. “This is all your fault!” She clambered to her feet and heaved a Victorian hall stand at me.

She misjudged my speed.

She also misjudged my sword-wielding sister.

Shayna leaped into the air and spun with ballerina elegance befitting her thin frame. Light reflected off her swords as she used her gift to transform the dull blades into deadly sharp weapons. With a piercing
whoosh
she sliced through the giant stand like a sheet of paper. Two perfectly even pieces crashed to the floor as she landed on one knee, arms outstretched. She twirled the swords as she rose, her tense muscles screeching for action. “
Don’t touch my sister!
” she hissed.

A small smirk found its way to my lips. Luke Skywalker could suck it. He had nothing on Shayna.

Frustration and rage pervaded the blond wolf’s bellow as she bounded toward Shayna. I leaped in front of my sister, believing one good toss deserved another. My fingers grasped the wolf’s crispy hair and pant leg as she pounced. Her screams wafted throughout the foyer as I pitched her through the large oak doors and into the great outdoors. Blondie’s butt dug a straight line across Misha’s meticulous lawn. Good thing that tall aspen was there to deflect her skid; otherwise the little cutie might have kept going.

My feet barely made a sound as I barreled toward her. She charged, her features contorted with fury, her hot breath visible in the cold night air. She snarled. I roared. The moment we connected we hammered blow after blow.

My strength surprised her; so did my ruthless strikes to her face and stomach. She’d learned to fight. Raised
on tough inner-city streets, I’d learned to survive. Her aggressive offense quickly changed to defensive blocks and retreats. I wanted to knock her out, furious she’d put her hands on me. Despite my anger, I allowed her to draw back. The fight riled my beast, yet that didn’t mean I’d allow her to kill.

This time.

I slammed into the crushing embrace of a werebear, his grip fracturing at least one of my ribs. This time I couldn’t silence my shrieks.

“Do you want to take her?” the bear growled.

The she-wolf’s eager grin widened. She stopped smiling when I broke the bear’s nose and cheekbones with my rapid head butts. The bear dropped me with a spew of curses and a crapload of negative comments about my mother.

The moment my feet touched the cold ground I
shifted
down and behind him. He pivoted around as I surfaced, his lids peeling back when my fist met his groin. Other than a little gurgle, no sound escaped.

I finished breaking to the surface. My hands held my broken rib as I fractured his left knee with my foot. He collapsed, gripping his man parts, and threw up.

Children obviously weren’t in his foreseeable future.

I lunged at the wolf, angry as all hell that she would have attacked me had I not broken out of the bear’s viselike grip. I may have fought dirty, but she was a dirty fighter. We fell onto a wrought-iron table set. I punched her a few times in the face before another wolf hauled me off by the hair. I rammed my elbows wildly and broke
her
ribs before picking up a chair and knocking her into Misha’s wooded property.

I tossed the chair aside and returned to face Blondie.
She backed away, hands up in surrender and blood dripping down to her skimpy designer blouse. I kept her in my sights, debating whether to knock her out, but Emme’s screams had me bolting back to the house.

God, I was furious. Bloodlust plagued Tahoe. How the hell had
we
become the enemy? I needed to help my sisters and find Aric.

Something hard whipped me across the legs as I leaped toward the entrance. I crash-landed on the stone steps. The sharp edges sliced me across the breasts and shins and knocked the air from my lungs in a painful rush. My fractured rib slid torturously beneath my skin, but if I wanted to live, I needed to move. Fast.

I flipped onto my back, holding tight to my side. Pieces of wood lay by my feet. It seemed Blondie had found a nice thick branch to hurl against my legs. My eyes trailed from her soiled black dress pants to the sharp, pointy shard of wood she aimed at my heart. I rolled out of the way and kicked her in the skull. She shook her head and struck again, but my next blow to her noggin made a snapping sound and ass-planted her onto the walkway. I yanked her up by her skimpy shirt and rammed my finger into her chest with each word I growled. “You’re. Pissing. Me. Off!”

Granted, I was beyond pissed from the moment I saw her touching Aric. But she didn’t need to know that. Besides, my tigress preferred to intimidate at every given opportunity. Especially when someone tried to kill us.

I
shifted
her underground and jetted into the house. My ribs hollered in protest as I dove onto the floor to avoid the sizzling
were
Taran shot overhead with her lightning. “Eat shit, Snoopy!” she yelled from down the hall.

Emme stood in the center of the demolished foyer, next to what remained of the chandelier. She fought to separate Liam and a vampire using the full potency of her
force
. Liam’s growls cut amid the escalating chaos, rattling the chandelier’s crystals and Emme’s fragile nerves. His muscles tightened beneath his torn shirt, geared to
change
and release his beast.

The vampire snapped her vicious fangs, impatient to bite. “I can already taste your blood, mutt,” she sneered. From her knife-length nails hung the shredded pieces of Liam’s shirt.

Their shared hatred thickened the air, making it hard for me to catch my breath. One of them was going to die. I knew it. And apparently so did Emme. Sweat glistened on her brow, and her fair skin deepened to red. The opposing forces circled each other, but neither could get through Emme’s power. They thrashed and beat against her hold, ready to draw blood.

Emme’s strength wouldn’t last much longer, but she wasn’t in immediate danger. Shayna was. She balanced on an oval table in the great room, splattered with blood, her swords at the ready. Three enormous werewolves in their powerful beast forms circled her with fangs bared. She shifted her weight from side to side, her long, sleek ponytail whirling behind her. Determination strengthened her pixie face. She wouldn’t allow them to take her down.

And neither would I.
Time to come out and play, baby.

Like a ripple of water flowing across my skin, my tigress emerged, tripling my petite stature into an awesome body of dense muscle, fur, and razor-sharp claws.

My T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers fell in tattered threads at my colossal paws. The
change
didn’t typically hurt, but
my injuries caused the already sore areas to stretch painfully and my broken rib to separate further. I collapsed, struggling to push past the relentless stabbing at my side.

I forced myself onto all fours, but not before a five-hundred-pound red wolf lunged past me and jetted toward Shayna.

Fear for Shayna turned to shock as he struck the other wolves like a mighty sledgehammer to a set of bowling pins. The wolves rolled away, their claws scratching against the stone floors as they quickly scurried to their feet and attacked once more. But the red wolf’s deep rumble forced them back. The others exchanged glances and snarled, yet none appeared willing to take on the herculean wolf.

The red wolf communicated to his pack through thunderous growls in alternating pitches and subtle twitches of his body. I didn’t speak wolf, but I understood him to mean, “Back the
fuck
up.
Now!
”

The wolves slowly abandoned their target. They paused to glower at me before hustling to the back of the house, where Aric and Misha continued their supernatural smack-down.

The red wolf turned his back to face Shayna. His body
changed
. Fur retracted and bones and tendons contorted, transforming the limber figure of a beast into the formidable body of a man. A sea of black satin hair spilled over rock-hard muscle and rust-colored skin. The wolf disappeared. In his place stood the gargantuan Koda.

Shayna slowly lowered her swords, her jaw falling open with an audible pop. Koda gripped her waist and gently lowered her to the floor with as much effort as it
took to hold a pen. He kept his hands at her hips and twirled her caringly, sniffing at the bloodstains and examining her for injuries. Shayna appraised him, too.

Just not in the same way.

Her already wide eyes narrowly missed falling out of their sockets once they headed south of Koda’s waist. Koda’s thick brows set with concern. “Did they hurt you?”

Shayna shook her head, but didn’t say anything. I couldn’t blame her. Koda’s butt cheeks were tight enough to crush wood with a single clench. I couldn’t imagine the frontal view was any less impressive.

“Son of a bitch!”

My paws tore down the hall toward the sounds of Taran’s not-so-ladylike insults. I skidded into the immense kitchen, where she stood on the countertop, gripping a cabinet door to keep her balance in her damned platform pumps. More wolves had arrived. Taran jolted them with lightning as they neared, but her strikes weren’t as effective. The wolves yelped and twitched, yet continued to advance. Taran was almost out of juice. But she wasn’t out of attitude.

She slumped a little when she saw me and shot the wolves a siren grin. “You’re so screwed,” she declared. “My sister is going to
kick your asses
!”

There were many moments throughout our lives when I wanted to slap the snot out of Taran. This was one of them.

The wolves’ hackles collectively rose as they set their diabolic sights on me. They moved as a single unit away from Taran and toward their newest prey.

Thanks, Taran.

A black-and-tan wolf leaped on me. An avalanche of blasted bedrock wouldn’t have rammed me as hard as he did. He aimed his bear-trap fangs at my jugular. My claws dug into his shoulders, keeping him from making confetti out of my throat.

In the wild, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. A tigress could shred through the hide of a wolf like packing foam. But this wasn’t the wild, and he was no mere wolf. Four hundred–plus pounds of abominable lupine threw me around like a dead squirrel. My claws and teeth appeared to have little effect. Unlike the students in the alley, this guy had seen his share of combat.

“Get ’em, Celia. Show these bitches what you’re made of!”

Taran didn’t get it. The most I could do was continue to dig my claws and fangs and use the wolf as a shield against his pack. He wasn’t, however, a willing participant. His claws scratched and pressed into my chest with the bulk of his weight while the others continued to pound against him to get at me. Their frustrated growls and impatient hunger for battle terrified me, and my stomach lurched from the wolf’s blood dripping down my throat. I needed to get him off me, but the floor wasn’t thick enough to
shift
across. If I tried to
shift
down, I’d land in Misha’s basement and damage my already battered ribs, allowing the wolf to easily finish me.

“What are you doing, Celia?” Taran screamed. “Beat them shitless and let’s get the hell out of here!”

Taran missed her calling as a motivational speaker.

I tried to use the wolf’s momentum to roll us into his buddies, but my bones ached brutally and my muscles begged to stop moving. We banged into a butcher block stacked with kitchenware. Plates, glasses, and a few pans
kerplunk
ed, banged, and shattered onto the floor as we shoved our way through it.