Shadowed Threads (11 page)

“Liam, it’s me, Rylee. I’m going to take you home.” I kept my voice even and as soothing as I could.

The growl eased off and a black nose emerged from the heavy underbrush followed by a grey muzzle, grey head and huge golden eyes. The werewolf stared up at me, his wolf body dwarfing Alex’s by at least a hundred and fifty pounds.

Staring into his eyes, I knew only one thing.

This was not O’Shea.

I yanked my sword out and slid into a crouch, holding the blade steady. “Who are you? And don’t you for one fucking second try to tell me you don’t understand.”

The werewolf tipped its head to one side and then withdrew into the bush, disappearing as if he never had been there. I glanced at Alex, not wanting to take my eyes from the werewolf in front of me. Alex’s eyes were wide and he pointed with one claw at the bush. “Old man wolf. Not Boss.”

His explanation was a little belated, since I’d already figured out it wasn’t O’Shea.

There was a rustle in the bush, the sounds of a person’s steps cracking branches underfoot as a tall, grey-haired man emerged from where the wolf had peered only moments before. “You must be his mate, yes?”

At first I thought he meant Alex. “No, I’m not Alex’s mate.”

“Rylee is Alex’s Boss,” Alex said, his tongue lolling out as he grinned up at the grey-haired man.

“And she shall teach the submissive to stand.” He murmured, smiling at me. “No, I meant the black wolf who hunts the witches. He is your mate. He waits for you.”

Chills swept through me, my body twitching with the desire to run after O’Shea. I couldn’t deny it, we were bound, he and I, had been for years.

“Yes, I am.”

“I am Peter. Your mate waits for you in the north, near the wolf stone. The witches are almost on him, you must hurry.”

I slid my sword back into its sheath, Tracked the Beast and found with a sigh of relief that he hadn’t yet stirred from where we’d left him. He must have been pinned under the rig. Yay for big-ass trucks.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. How far is this wolf stone?”

“Twenty-five miles northeast. Stay on this path, it will take you most of the way there.” His golden eyes traced over my body. “And when you are ready to know the truth behind him, come back to me. I will share with you the legend of what he is becoming.”

With those words, he melted back into the bush, without a sound.

I spun and ran down the path, grateful at least that we wouldn’t be slogging through the forest. The legend of what O’Shea was becoming? Wasn’t he just a werewolf?

What was I missing?

I shook it off, no point in freaking out about something that I wasn’t sure would even matter in a few hours. Twenty-five miles, the Beast on my ass, O’Shea dealing with witches. All bad, so very, very bad. And we were running straight toward it with open eyes.

Chapter 14

S
weat stung my
eyes, the run taking more out of me than I thought it would have. The combination of lined pants, slippery footing, and packing all my weapons made the distance seem twice as far, regardless of all the training I did. The day was waning, and I knew that we were getting close to sunset. Close to Berget’s supposed death sentence. Still, though, her threads were sweet and happy. Vibrant and without fear, not even that small glimmer of uncertainty I’d felt earlier. She was fine. Faris was a fucking liar.

I sent a thread out to Track a werewolf, again pushing the feel of Alex aside. There were three ways I was being pulled. To the north and then there were two werewolves to the east.

O’Shea was being hunted by witches though. I Tracked for a group of witches and hit a bingo. They surrounded one of the werewolves to the east of me. The path didn’t take us that way, so I jogged into the bush, pushing my way through the dense foliage. Alex helped, breaking branches with his paws and mouth with a vigor that told me he had no idea this was a salvage.

“You having fun, buddy?” I panted, hopping over a downed log.

Alex leapt it beside me, curling his paws tight to his body, as if he were an Olympic jumping horse.

“Alex funny!” He bolted ahead, tucking his tail under his butt and scooting around in a mad dash. Yeah, he didn’t have a clue.

“Alex, this is serious.” I could feel the witches, and they were less than a quarter mile away. The werewolf I was Tracking, the one that had to be O’Shea, was full of rage and bloodlust. And maybe even a little bit of fear. Shit.

“Alex, O’Shea is in trouble. Witches, like Milly, are going to kill him. We have to stop them. Got it?”

Alex’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head. “No kill Boss.” After that, he stayed close to me, peering into the woods, cocking his head from time to time. Once focused, he was actually pretty good back up. The deal was just trying to get him to focus.

“Rylee, Alex hears.” He grabbed at my leg, slowing me down.

“What?”

“Bad witches. Talking bad to Boss.”

I let out a slow breath, running my hands over my weapons, the comfort of having them easing some of my anxiety. I had to assume these witches we were going to be facing would know about my Immunity. So we had to take care of them fast. I could still so easily feel the crunch of cannon balls slamming into my body from the last time I’d been attacked by a group of witches. Rather unpleasant all around and not something I was keen to repeat.

I pulled my crossbow from my back and slid a bolt into the channel. More and more, this was turning out to be the best addition to my repertoire in a long time. We crept the last two hundred feet until we reached a clearing that sat on the edge of a frozen creek, a huge stone jammed into the middle of the ground. It did look like the nose of a wolf tipped to howl at the moon, the base of the neck buried into the ground. Around the stone stood four witches, and two more lay still on the ground, the snow around them bright crimson instead of white.

A massive black wolf stood with his back to the stone, hackles standing up, pale golden eyes narrowed, and a deep snarl erupting from his mouth in a continuous stream as spit dripped off his canines. Shit, he was intimidating, and I’d been dealing with the Beast for the last few days.

I Tracked O’Shea and felt the faintest of flickers now that we were this close to him. His eyes drifted to mine, and I gave him the slightest of nods. I lifted the crossbow, aimed at the closest witch’s head and pulled the trigger. The witch dropped without a sound, giving me a chance to reload and shoot a second witch in the base of the neck. That one, a woman, gave a gurgled screech and went down to her knees with a thump. The remaining witches, two men, spun toward me. I lowered the crossbow and pulled my swords free.

“You have a choice, you can either leave now and I won’t gut you like the fuckers you are, or you can stay and I’ll feed what’s left of you to my boys.”

Alex hopped around beside me, claws scrabbling on the frozen ground. “Witchy fuckers.”

They said nothing, just raised their hands. The snow from the trees and the ground lifted into a swirling vortex, effectively blinding me.

“Tricky, very tricky,” I grumbled.

I went to my belly, flattening myself out as lightning danced amongst the vortex. Alex mimicked me, army crawling forward. “Follow Alex.”

We shimmied along the ground and Alex led me to the first witch. From my belly, I slashed upward, my blade sliding into his groin, slicing his leg three quarters of the way off. He fell backwards, and the swirling vortex faded as he screamed for help from his friend in what sounded like French. I crawled the few feet up and over him, driving my sword through his heart, silencing his screams.

The swirling snow fell still, and the last witch standing stared around him. His eyes were not wide with fear as I’d thought. They were full of rage. He screamed a death spell at us, and I rolled over Alex to take the brunt of it, feeling the black aura dissipate over my skin. I stood up, gave the witch a smile.

“You done?”

“What are you?” His accent was heavy, laden with deep French undertones.

“Does it matter? You’re trying to kill my wolf. Which puts you in a piss-poor position when it comes to us getting along.” I stepped toward him and he stepped back.

“I may leave, but I will come back—”

O’Shea hit him from behind, teeth snapping closed over the screaming witch’s neck. There was the sharp snap of bones breaking, and silence reigned. O’Shea dropped the witch, then glared up at me. Very slowly, he backed away. I Tracked him, felt nothing that was O’Shea.

What if Milly had been telling me the truth? What if O’Shea was completely gone?

“Liam.” I went to my knees and reached out to him. “Liam, please.”

He snarled at me, and then the snarl left his lips as his nose lifted to the breeze. From my knees, he stood over me, dwarfing me with his bulk, his black fur rippling in the wind.

With no response to me, he spun and loped away, back into the forest.

I bowed my head, fought the loss that kept me on my knees.

The cold seeped into me, even through my lined pants, but I didn’t move. I knew the Beast was on the move again; we maybe had half an hour before he was on us. Maybe.

Thirty minutes to do what? Liam wasn’t responding, was maybe gone completely. I lifted my head and looked at the sky. The sun had set and the final glow of the day was fading. Berget was still alive, though I felt a sudden confusion off her, she wasn’t afraid. Faris had lied to me, though I wasn’t sure any of it mattered. With a deep sigh, I pulled myself to my feet and slid my swords from their sheaths. We, I, would have to make a stand here against the Beast and hope to all that was holy that I could maim him bad enough. Fuck, just thinking about how I was going to have to lop off each limb while somehow keeping my own body intact—

The shattering inside my head, the burst of pain and the threads of Berget’s life untangling in a flurry of emotions froze me in place. Stunned, I felt her heart slow as her life slipped away, felt her breathing ease a sudden shard of fear piercing her as the last of her life faded. I tried to hang onto her threads, as if my will alone would keep her alive.

“NOOOOOOOO!” I grabbed my head, fell to the ground, could barely connect the animal noises I was making with the person I knew myself to be.

This was not happening.

I couldn’t have lost her, not like this, not without even trying. Not when Faris had tried to warn me, had tried to get me to help her.

What had I done?

The wolf stood on the edge of the clearing, feeling the woman’s pain as if it was his own. Why should he care that a human was hurting? She wasn’t a witch, so he wouldn’t kill her, but her pain should be of no concern of his.

Her screams echoed through the air as if she’d been wounded, as if her life blood leaked out onto the snow. He paused, smelling the air again, trying to discern who she was, what she was.

Mate. Rylee.

He didn’t question the voice, only knew that it was right, and so he obeyed it. Stepping back into the clearing, he moved toward the woman, his heart thumping with anticipation. How could a human be his mate?

On her knees, she was bent forward, rocking with whatever pain it was that clung to her. The wolf sniffed the air, didn’t smell her blood. That didn’t make any sense. The scent of another wolf snapped his head around and he glared at the half creature in front of him.

“Alex no hurt,” the half creature said, and the words made sense, which disturbed the wolf even more. He snarled at the creature, and the submissive fell to his belly, putting his paws over his head. That would do; he would prove no fight for the wolf. His eyes flickered over the clearing and the bodies strewn about. More witches would come. But for now he couldn’t leave, not with the woman, his mate, inconsolable.

There was nothing the wolf could do for the woman but stay by her side until the pain passed, until the hurt was gone. With a heavy sigh, he felt something twist inside of him at the sight of her tears, her strange eyes clouded with whatever wounded her.

He carefully curled his body around her, sheltering her from the biting wind that coursed through the trees as night fell.

And for the first time since he’d been freed from the witch, he felt at peace.

This was his mate, his heart.

She was his home.

Warmth surrounded me, and the world went black with dark fur. A heavy head lay across the back of my shoulders and a low-pitched whine broke through my own keening. Distantly, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew that O’Shea had come back, had somehow known who I was. But a part of me had almost hoped it was the Beast. Let him have me, let him tear me apart.

For the second time in my life, I’d failed Berget, failed her completely. In the instant of her death, I was thrown back to losing her the first time, the guilt compounded by years of blaming myself and now … now to know that I’d had a chance to go and find her. To bring her home. I’d known she was alive for weeks, but I’d avoided going after her because I’d been afraid that what I could offer her wouldn’t be good enough. That she would be in danger if I brought her into my life.

And now she was dead. I couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t stop the sobs that erupted out of me. There was no reason, no way to take back what I’d done. No way to make it right. Her death lay squarely on my shoulders; Faris was wrong, I didn’t blame him. I blamed me.

Berget’s death was my fault.

O’Shea let out a low warning growl, one I could feel through my bones. I lifted my head to see a man standing on the edge of the clearing. He limped toward us, his one arm at a bad angle, his face swollen and cut. His blue eyes pierced me through to my heart. I let out a groan and buried my face. Faris had tried to tell me, to help me save her.

“I tried, on my own, to stay her death.” His voice reached me, but I could tell he’d stopped moving.

“Did you come to gloat?” I could barely muster up the strength to speak, to lift my head and look at him.