“Yes,” Jaden sneered, baring his fangs. “She can outfight you, because I taught her to. I’m never going back, LaSalle. And neither are you.”
Without his knife, the decapitation was quick but gruesome. Necessary, though, to end any vampire. Later, he would burn the body if he had time. A strange sound behind him slowly penetrated the bloody haze in which he was ensconced, crouching over LaSalle’s body and drinking in shallow little sips of air. The rage was as dark as anything he’d ever experienced, fueled as it was by the memories of his torment. The scars on his back burned as if fresh.
Lyra. I have to help Lyra. This isn’t finished.
Jaden rose and turned, and was greeted by an unexpected sight. Lyra stood over the corpses of the other Ptolemy, a bloodied dagger in her hand. She was a little battered, but there was something incredibly triumphant about her, like a pagan goddess of war. The oddity of her even having a dagger was quickly explained when he realized that they were no longer alone. A small group of werewolves had joined them, Simon and Dorien among them.
All the wolves were looking at him.
Jaden said nothing, simply walked to Lyra and held out his hand. She placed the dagger in it without a single question, and he turned to finish severing the head of the Ptolemy whose throat he had torn out, just to be sure.
“The bodies should be burned,” he said flatly as he returned, handing the dagger to Dorien. The fury receded, leaving an odd numbness in its place. It was hard to fathom that a short time ago, he’d been as happy as he could remember being. The Ptolemy had managed to spoil even that. It seemed they were destined to ruin everything good in Jaden’s life no matter what he did.
“We know. We’ll take care of it,” Dorien said. He was as somber as Jaden had seen the man, and he wondered, dully, if the wolves would use the attack as an excuse to run him off. He would have to let them. Right now, he had no fight left in him. But when one of the other wolves spoke, a shorter, barrel-chested man who looked as though he’d seen plenty of fights, his words were far from anything Jaden expected.
“You didn’t run. You defended Lyra,” he said. The man had the audacity to sound surprised. Jaden wanted to snap, but he managed to hold back. That was the anger still in his system, not what was called for now.
“I did,” Jaden said. “But she did a hell of a job defending herself.”
He saw the smile, small but unmistakable, that curved her lips. It went a long way toward calming what remained of his rage. The rest vanished the moment the wolf who had addressed him stepped forward with his hand extended. It took Jaden a moment to register the expression the man wore, since it was one he saw so rarely.
Gratitude.
Jaden, dumbfounded for one of the few times in his long life, accepted the hand being offered and shook it.
“I was wrong about you. You defended a fellow wolf, and our home. For that, you have my thanks.”
“I—you’re welcome,” Jaden stammered, even more shocked when the other wolves came forward to repeat the gesture. Simon was the last in line, and he gave a curt nod before shaking hands too.
“I told Lyra I’d be watching you. Looks like not all vampires are without honor. From now on, as far as we’re concerned, you’re welcome here.”
Jaden looked around at each of their faces, seeing the simple truth echoed over and over again. He had shed blood for them. He had acted in defense of Lyra, and of their home. So they, in turn, had decided to accept him. Jaden couldn’t help but feel the weight of the honor. These wolves must think poorly of his kind indeed to assume he would leave Lyra to the mercy of these vampire killers.
But since plenty of vampires were much like these Ptolemy, he supposed he couldn’t blame Simon and the others for the bad impression.
“What the hell were they doing here?” Dorien wondered aloud, prodding one of them with his toe. “All these years, we’ve barely seen a one of your kind. Now we’re some kind of tourist attraction.”
Lyra caught his eye, gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. She was right—it might not go over as well if they knew he was the one who had drawn the Ptolemy here, however unwittingly. Still, he thought it was odd the intruders had found him deep in werewolf country, of all places. Had he been followed from Tipton? That prospect didn’t seem likely, and he’d been careful.
A puzzle, and one he needed to sort out. Putting innocents in danger because the Ptolemy refused to give up their claim on an entire bloodline was unacceptable to him. Just as lying about the danger was no longer acceptable, no matter whether the truth hurt him or not.
“They were here because of me,” he admitted. “I was a slave of their queen for a very long time. She hasn’t quite gotten over the fact that I, and my blood brothers and sisters, are no longer under her purview.”
“Will there be more of them, do you think?” Simon asked, his expression unreadable.
Jaden shrugged. “Not sure. This lot won’t be reporting back, at least. Beyond that, I couldn’t say.” He looked at Dorien. “I’m sorry I seem to have brought them here. I had no idea I was being tracked.”
Dorien looked at his colleagues and grunted. “Not worried. A few stragglers here and there is just good practice for my men. Not often we get to rip into actual vamps. These don’t seem to have caused much trouble, even with you outnumbered.” He paused, looked at his daughter who seemed no worse for wear despite the blood. Then he shook his head wonderingly.
“Never thought I’d tell a wolf and a vamp that they make a good team, but you two are going to prove me wrong. This is some carnage. And I mean that in a good way.”
“You’re not kidding,” the stocky one said, dropping a wink at Lyra. “I may have to conscript the both of you into the guard. That’d cause a stir!”
You have no idea, Jaden thought. He caught Lyra’s eye, hoping to see a smile. But instead, she looked troubled and turned her head away. Still, Jaden gave a short laugh as the men chuckled. He suddenly realized that nothing about them was what he had expected. He was used to subversion, secrecy, and vampires who were more interested in covering their own asses than being heroes, though his experience being mainly with the Ptolemy had a lot to do with that, he supposed. The philosophy, the attitude of these wolves was… different.
They might be as rough as they’d been painted among vampires. But that was not all they were. Of course, expecting them to bless the romantic pairing of a wolf and a vampire was probably a bridge too far. Probably.
Wasn’t it?
“Come on. We’ll light these bastards up and then all go back to my house for a drink,” Dorien said. There were nods of agreement as Dorien retrieved a lighter from his pocket. “I want to hear the story from the two of you, and no leaving out any of the gore. This should be a good one.”
The barrel-chested one grinned at Jaden. “It’ll be a dry evening for you, Jaden, unless you can stomach a beer. I might be impressed, but I’m still not volunteering to open a vein.”
“I’ll manage with a beer,” Jaden said with a smile, feeling off-balance, but in a surprisingly pleasant way.
Lyra sidled up beside him as the burning began, the vampire corpses vanishing seconds after they were lit. The flames danced in her troubled eyes.
“What do you know?” she said. “Kill a few Ptolemy and you’re golden.” She sounded more weary than happy, which surprised him. Jaden thought she’d be pleased that they’d done so well. And from what he had been able to see, her technique was excellent. If she kept that kind of focus, she would already be a surprise that most werewolves wouldn’t see coming. For Eric, it would take more, simply because of his size and particular fixation on killing her, but Jaden was encouraged. Taking down Ptolemy was no small thing.
Here she stood, however, looking defeated. He wondered if he would ever understand her.
“If only everything in life were so easy,” he said. She knew what he meant, and he saw any sign of emotion in her eyes quickly shuttered.
“I’m impressed. You fought well,” he added, low enough that only she could hear it. “They know it too,” he added, jerking his head toward the other wolves.
“Yeah, that’s… that’s good, I’m glad.” She sounded anything but, but Jaden hardly knew how to respond. Something was wrong, that much was obvious.
“You’re going to join everyone, right? Stay up and share our tale of bloody derring-do?”
It was no surprise when Lyra shook her head no. He took a deep breath, frustrated by his inability to see what was truly wrong. Mind-reading mortals was often annoying, but the gift would have come in handy here among the wolves.
“Look, Lyra, don’t be a hero. If you’re sick or hurt, we need to get you to a doctor. Your pack must have one of those.”
“No, I’m neither. I swear,” she said firmly. Then she seemed to deflate a little, slumping as though all the fight had gone out of her. “I think I just need some sleep. I don’t… I really just don’t feel well.” She put a hand to her head and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m going to head back. You have fun with the boys. You’ve earned it. I’m glad they’ve decided to like you, though. I really am.” She looked so tired, and so uncharacteristically defeated, that Jaden barely restrained himself from putting his arms around her.
Instead, he had to stand there and watch her walk away, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time.
Chapter SIXTEEN
THE END of the night was bad.
Morning was worse.
Lyra stood beneath the spray, feeling more like a ghost than a werewolf. Last night had been a rough one, a swing from one extreme to the other. Today, she felt colorless, washed out. It shouldn’t be that way. She and Jaden had had mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex! Awesome! Her father and the higher-ups of the pack guard thought she and Jaden made a great team, and had actually acknowledged that she’d kicked some vampire ass! Super-duper!
