The Claimed (29 page)

“It is I who am honored to be your friend. To live and fight by your side.” He bit back his fear that he would die by Ryan’s side as well.

Ryan clapped him on the back and gestured in the direction of the house. “Go inside with the others, Christopher. Let us keep you safe as we were charged to do.”

He knew better than to protest. That would only keep
Ryan from completing the protection for their clan, especially the children of the cadre members secreted within the compound. With a final hug, he hurried indoors, getting a lay of the land so that he could protect those within should the perimeter be breached.

The children and remaining family members of his cadre were secured in his library, and some of their more powerful parents were at its entrances, guarding the room. As he had with his cadre members, he bestowed upon each of the parents a bit of his power to strengthen them until he was almost light-headed from the exercise.

With his father and his men likely speeding their way toward the compound, he had little time to waste. Hurrying to his room, he stripped and headed to the spa in his bathroom. It was fed from the tide table beneath his home and the liquid was alive with energy. But that alone was not enough.

As he sat in the waters, he stretched out his arms and pulled in the free-floating energies in the air around him, soaking up every bit of vitality from the charged particles in the air surrounding him. Little by little his core warmed and became heavy with the forces of life until he felt restored.

Exiting the waters, he dried off and dressed in black from head to toe to camouflage himself in the dark night until he made his appearance. One which he hoped would disorient his father’s warriors long enough for him to take some of them out of commission and improve the odds.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and dispatched what he hoped would not be one last good-bye.

“I love you, Victoria.”

She had just finished explaining to her cadre when she felt it, passing over her like a summer breeze. The kiss of his energy, alive and powerful even with the distance separating them.

It distracted her for a moment, prompting her newest cadre member Catalina to ask, “Is everything all right, Quinchu?”

Bracing a hand against the flutters in her core, she continued with her request. “I need Hunters who will fight beside me. Beside Christopher and his people.”

The half-a-dozen warriors gathered before her exchanged worried glances, clearly undecided, but then Catalina stepped up.

“I will fight, Quinchu,” she said, dipping her head and saluting.

Of all of them, she had not expected Mike’s widow to be the first to volunteer. She more than most had reason to hate the Dark Ones.

She laid her hand on Catalina’s shoulder. “I am honored by your loyalty.”

“If it will keep anyone else from losing a loved one as I did, it is worth the sacrifice,” Catalina said, rising notches in Victoria’s esteem.

A second later, another of her cadre stepped forward. Billy, the youngest of all her warriors. Just twenty, he had only just discovered his true affinity, but his powers were strong due to his youth.

After he stepped shoulder to shoulder with Catalina, she likewise thanked him and immediately thereafter, the remainder of her cadre took up positions beside their two comrades and offered to call their mates to assist.

Victoria wasn’t sure if it was shame or honor that drove the rest, and at that point, didn’t much care. With their help they might not only save Christopher and his people, but also secure her clan’s future.

She started at the far end and was about to gift each of them with a portion of her power when a knock came at the door. She sensed their energies even before she opened it to let them in.

Rafael entered, followed by Adam and Bobbie Bruno. Behind them were several of the mates her cadre members had summoned with mental entreaties.

“Forgive me, Quinchu. I was not available when you called,” Rafael said, not that it really explained why he had been off the grid for so long. A frisson of unease traveled through her yet again, but she contained her hesitation and inclined her head in the direction of the cadre.

His lips thinned into a tight slash at her near dismissal, but she had more to worry about than his pique.

Facing Adam and Bobbie, she shook their hands and thanked them for coming.

“Don’t thank me yet, Victoria. I do not know how I can help someone like Christopher,” he said, but that earned an elbow from his wife.

“Adam seems to forget that I was a ‘someone’ once and not so readily accepted by the Light Ones either,” Bobbie reminded.

“You were at least a Hybrid,” he challenged, earning him another forceful poke.

“It did not take you long to develop Hunter arrogance, did it?” Bobbie warned, and despite the teasing tone of her voice, there was no doubt his wife would not put up with such self-importance in her husband.

To his credit, Adam chuckled and shook his head. He circled his arm around his wife’s waist. “I’m sorry. I’ve been hanging around the other Quinchus too much. Present company excluded.”

With a dip of her head, she acknowledged the compliment, but then had to press forward as time was growing short. “Christopher believes his father will attack tonight to stop us from uniting our clans and energies.”

Bobbie and Adam shared a worried look. “I don’t know how we can help. We don’t have a cadre and my parents—”

“Will not send their people. Neither would mine, so I have not asked. But there is a way you can help—with your energy.”

At his confused look, she urged them to walk back with her toward her cadre and the mates who had lined up beside them. She demonstrated, laying her hands on her first cadre member and gifting him with a little of her life force.

Understanding her request, he copied her actions, charging each of her people with additional power until they arrived at Catalina. There Victoria paused and peered at the other woman intently.

Misinterpreting, Catalina said, “Have I displeased, Quinchu?”

Victoria quickly reassured her. “Not at all, Catalina. But I need something special from you.”

A furrow formed between her brown-blonde brows as Catalina considered her request. “What can I provide that is special?”

Victoria explained. “We are of a like height and general build and coloring. I would like to borrow a bit of
your life force. I need to become you so that Christopher will not be distracted when I fight by his side.”

With a quick inclination of her head, Catalina replied, “I would be honored to share my life force with you.”

Turning to Adam, Victoria asked, “Will you gift me afterward so that I may maintain Catalina’s form for as long as possible?”

“I will,” he confirmed.

Returning her attention to Catalina, she took hold of the other woman’s hands. “Relax. Open your core to me.”

Catalina closed her eyes and little by little the tension left her body and Victoria reached in, sending a seeking probe of energy until she connected with the heart of Catalina’s life force and sipped a soupçon of it. She returned her power with that taste and concentrated it, holding it in her own center before she discharged it out along the pathways in her body.

Because of their physical similarities, it took little energy to assume Catalina’s form, although there was some discomfort from the shift of muscle and bone as well as an expansion of her density since Catalina was a little broader through the shoulders and hips.

As the pain of the morphing fled, she faced Adam in her new form. He peered at her intently, as if searching for any signs of Victoria, but finding none. Shaking his head, he laid his hands on her shoulders. Heat and an intense vibration erupted at that spot as their life forces clashed for a moment, fighting for dominance, before she let down her guard. Only a heartbeat passed before the stream of his power flowed through her, refilling her center, continuing to fuel her until her head was swimming, nearly drunk on his power. It was so pure and strong, it was almost overwhelming.

“Adam,” she cried out, and he broke the connection and stumbled back, virtually falling into his wife’s arms.

“Should I be jealous?” Bobbie said with an arch of her brow as she supported Adam.

Victoria shook her head, righting herself. “No, not at all. It was just more energy than I expected. Thank you, Adam.”

He nodded weakly and said, “I hope you are right about Christopher and his people.” Shooting a glance at her cadre members and their mates, he added, “I would not want to lose so many lives for nothing.”

“I hope so, too, Adam,” Victoria agreed.

C
hristopher stood by Ryan, finalizing their plans. From low on the beach came the sudden drone of immense power. They both looked down and watched as at least three dozen bodies materialized along the shoreline. The warriors lined up in a neat phalanx, their red and blue auras stained with murkiness from the pox, identifying them as Shadow Hunters.

A brighter blur of light sped to their side and took shape beside them with a flash. The form’s aura was brighter, a testament to its power, but deeply contaminated by the darkling threads of the pox.

Alexander. Even in the faint moonlight he recognized his father’s energy.

“I’m surprised he came himself,” Ryan muttered from beside him.

“As am I,” Christopher confirmed. He had not expected his father to sully his hands in battle. His presence there could mean only one thing.

“He means this to be a fight to the death, Ry.”

“Then it shall be his death, Quinchu.”

Christopher had hoped to avoid this kind of challenge. It was why he had left the clan, taking his followers with him. His father was still a young man, barely past the start of his last triad with much life left to him. At least another fifty to sixty years.

But no longer, if his father insisted on going through with this confrontation. Christopher had too much to live for to allow his father to steal his vitality.

Alexander raised his hands and seemed to be summoning the skies above him. A glow erupted at his palms, but instead of creating deadly orbs of power, with a wave of his hands he sent the energy across the skies, creating a shield that extended from his men up to the rear of the house.

While shields such as this one were normally used to hide Hunter activities from prying human eyes, this shield was different. He could tell from the shimmer of the energy threads along the field. This barrier would not only hide, but also make it harder for anyone to escape the battle. It was much like the grounding line tethering Maya, and any Hunters coming in contact with the shield would lose a bit of their power. Power that would be funneled back to the creator of the defense. Only a huge explosion of power could break such a force field, risking both the creator and the person attacking the barrier.

But his father, lazy as always, had failed to consider one thing—Alexander had left the back portion of the shield sitting along knee-deep water.

Christopher intended to capitalize on that.

Although Ryan was urging him inside, Christopher
broke free of his friend and raised his hands. He shot out lines of energy to the water behind his father’s men and became one with the liquid that was his affinity. With a jerk of his hands, he whipped up the waves and pulled them forward, sending a low tidal surge toward the rear of the phalanx. The force of the waves he created sent a number of men tumbling against the Hunters in front of them, who struggled to maintain their footing.

Like a conductor directing an orchestra, Christopher moved his arms and sent the waves rolling back and forth, then sideways, unsettling even more of his father’s men, but in his core he experienced the drain on his life force. It was taking too much energy to manipulate such a large body of water.

He broke the connection, intending to recover the vitality at his core, and in that instant, a mortar of energy landed barely a foot away, driving him backward and creating a wide crater in the lawn in front of him.

Ryan and another of his cadre members leaped to his defense, offering protection as one of his father’s warriors lobbed another orb of power toward him.

“Get inside, Christopher. You’re our last line of defense for the women and children,” Ryan pleaded, backing him up toward the house as he kept up a defensive posture, conserving his energy.

Alexander’s men were still battling the shifting waters Christopher had created along the sand, but they were able to shoot off-balance shots of energy. His cadre members were holding their ground, knowing that it was imperative for them to keep their positions.

“Force them to waste their power before you attack,” he instructed Ryan, and backpedaled toward the house,
not that he intended to be sidelined inside the structure. But as long as Ryan believed he was there, his friend would fight more efficiently without worrying about his well-being.

Christopher pivoted and raced for the house, aiming for one of his cadre members. When he reached the man, he commanded, “Go help Ryan.”

Once the man had charged forward, Christopher took his position on the highest spot of ground close to the house and surveyed the battlefield. His father was still maintaining the shield, apparently hoping to prevent the retreat of Christopher and his people from the area. Of the three dozen or so Hunters who had appeared on the shoreline, at least four had either been swept away or sucked into the slurry of sand created by the pull of the waters.