“No,” she said again, the depths of her stubbornness more apparent than ever.
“If you don’t, they’ll kill you.”
“No.”
Done arguing, Riley stripped the rest of the way and shifted into his wolf form, his bones readjusting, fur sprouting from his pores. He was so used to doing this, it felt more like stretching after a nap than actually becoming something new.
He clamped his teeth on Mary Ann’s arm, as gently as he could, which wasn’t much, and forced her to climb onto his back.
Another arrow soared overhead, just missing her.
Hold on tight, he commanded, speaking into her mind as he bounded from the living room.
“O…kay,” she said, her teeth chattering.
He was a stupid idiot fool. She needed what little warmth her clothes would offer, but he couldn’t pull a shirt over her injury and he couldn’t afford to carry the material in his mouth. Currently his teeth were the only weapon he had.
He really could have used Tucker just then. Words he’d never thought to entertain. But an illusion or two would have seriously come in handy.
Left with no other choice, Riley raced out the back door, bursting through the hollowed plywood without pause. He zigzagged off the porch, making himself a harder target to lock onto, and good thing. Arrows rained.
How many witches were out there? More than Jennifer and Marie, he knew that much.
“Hurt,” Mary Ann said.
I know, sweetheart. He pushed the words into her head. I’d take your pain into my own body if I could.
An arrow homed in on him and lodged in his front left leg. He snarled at the pain, but didn’t slow and didn’t dare stumble. Mary Ann would have fallen, and he couldn’t allow that. Gravel bit into his paws, making everything worse. A quick search of the area, and he saw eleven auras. All orange, and all faint. They must have bespelled themselves, hoping to hide from him. Well, their spell hadn’t worked fully.
He narrowed his focus on the one farthest from the others and closed in. A blur of motion, never slowing, he raced past the witch and chomped her between his jaws, dragging her along. She struggled against him, but still he didn’t slow. Kept moving, taking both females farther and farther away. Careful, so careful.
Drain her, he commanded Mary Ann. Now!
She must have obeyed, because the witch’s struggles tapered off…stopped completely. She became a limp rag in his mouth, and he spit her out. Still he didn’t slow.
Any better?
“A little.”
He’d get her somewhere safe and doctor her himself. Then, the hunt would begin. No more letting the witches and the fae chase while he and Mary Ann ran. That had been his biggest mistake, and one he wouldn’t make again.
The hunters were about to become the prey.
EIGHTEEN
TUCKER PERCHED ON THE highest limb of an oak and watched as the wolf absconded with Mary Ann. They left a trail of blood a blind man would spot. The wolf was unsteady and weaving, and Mary Ann limp as a noodle. She wouldn’t last much longer.
The wolf read auras, but Tucker knew the siren’s call of death. No question, Mary Ann was even then swimming out to greet the lyrical grim reaper, and nothing would stop her.
The witch’s aim had been true. Her arrow had sliced through the ward preventing Mary Ann from receiving a mortal wound. The location alone was damaging, but the blood loss would be more so.
Wards worked—until they were closed. Or burned away. Or any number of other painful things. Some people opted to get a ward to protect their wards, so that something like this could never happen, but not many went that route. What if someone gave you a ward you didn’t want? ’Cause yeah. Being held down and inked with all kinds of badness never happened.
Tucker would have snickered at his sarcasm, considering he’d told Mary Ann how ugly it was, but he was too afraid it’d sound like a sob. Only pansy-assed babies sobbed. He wasn’t a pansy-assed baby.
He was a liar.
He hadn’t been completely honest with Mary Ann. Oh, he’d run from Vlad after stabbing Aden all right—but he’d run after he’d “chatted” with the guy. Bastard had threatened him with a few wards of his own if he didn’t man up and do as he was told.
Man up. Funny, coming from a guy who looked more monster than man while he hid in the shadows, but whatever.
Until yesterday, Tucker hadn’t exactly followed the former king’s orders. He’d helped Mary Ann rather than hurt her.
He liked her. More than he should, and more than was wise.
Why’d she have to let the wolf stick around?
Tucker would have continued to resist Vlad if she’d kicked the wolf to the curb.
Because, when he and Mary Ann were alone, he was fine. A halfway decent individual. Dirty-minded, maybe, but who wasn’t? Then Riley had shown up, and boom. Vlad had made another move, and Tucker had lost the battle.
Poor Mary Ann. She was an unwanted casualty.
Tucker waited as the witches who’d just annihilated her congregated under his tree. Red Robed Bitches, that’s what he called them. They were glaring up at him, pissed that they’d failed and blaming him. Even though he hadn’t been the one to freaking fail.
“You said we’d have the pair cornered if we waited until they were inside the house,” the blonde in charge said. Marie, he thought was her name. She was a pretty thing but vicious in her determination.
Having rifled through Mary Ann’s things, he’d found the address she’d tried so hard to hide. Had known exactly where she would go, if not when. So, he’d cast an illusion when she and the wolf left the café and followed them. “That’s when I thought you were competent,” he replied. “Why didn’t you give chase?”
“And risk a draining?”
“Again I’m struck by the words thought you were competent.”
They spat expletives at him.
He shoved from the branch and fell…fell…and landed on his feet. In the center of the RRBs now, he spun, his arms splayed wide, his vibe all about daring them to try something with him.
He really wanted them to try something with him.
He deserved punishment, but then, so did they. Only difference was, he knew he deserved it. They’d be the first to tell you how righteous their cause, how they were on the holy path, blah, blah, blah.
They had lost Mary Ann’s trail after Riley warded her, but they hadn’t lost Tucker’s. Apparently they’d magically locked onto him, too, but Riley had refused to ward him, so there you go. Because of Riley’s refusal, they’d never really lost the girl. Tucker would not take the blame for that.
The fae had been trailing Mary Ann and Tucker, as well. They would have been here, extracting their pound of flesh like the witches, only the witches had…politely asked them to leave, sending the other race home to their mamas.
After that, Tucker had thrown the witches an illusion—one of Mary Ann and Riley talking, arguing, tossing out names and info Tucker had pulled out of his ass—hoping to send the little RRBs running in a thousand different directions. Of course, that’s when Vlad had called him.
Tucker…my Tucker…
Just. Like. That.
Everything had changed.
Tucker…
He shuddered as that eerie, commanding voice continued to shove its way into his head, leading him around like a puppet on a string. Wasn’t difficult to do, either. The darkest part of Tucker’s nature—the part that enjoyed verbally ripping his little brother to pieces, kicking puppies, fist fighting his friends, cheating on his girlfriend, watching the girl pregnant with his baby lose the respect of her family—that part craved the vampire’s guidance.