~ Penny sat on the edge of her bed, waiting. To say she was nervous was an understatement. Twisting her fingers in her lap, she tried to keep her mind clear, breathing even. She thought about mixing an herb relaxer, but then she couldn't get herself to move. The only part of her that moved were her fingers, and her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. Lochlan was taking an uncomfortably long time getting to her room. He had told her to wait there, and she had been waiting for a while.
Black came in first. He rested his head on her lap, looking up with his warm, gold eyes. Her fingers buried themselves into the black silk of his pelt. His warmth was reassuring to her. A minute later, Lochlan came to stand at the door.
"Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." Penny kicked off her shoes before lying down on the bed. "Can he stay with me?" Penny asked when Black walked away.
In response, he jumped up, stepping over her to lie on the other side. Penny
~Every day they tested the limits of their boundaries, and every day their boundaries grew wider and wider. Lochlan could now go on running without dragging Penny along. Not that he minded, but he had some issues he needed to deal with. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't change Penny. Even more so with the fact that he had almost killed her. Penny didn't hold it against him, but he held it against himself. Lochlan stopped running, looking out over the cliff at the silvery green forest, which spanned miles in front of him. This was the back section of the mountain; it led to denser areas where the natives lived. The mountain was a barrier between them and the people in the city. His chest was growing tight, a sign that he was approaching the maximum distance he could be away from Penny. She’d be feeling the same. Lochlan rubbed the area of his chest over his heart. He felt a stirring in his mind, a ghost of a question asked without words
~"Well, now we know why Barabbas didn't bother having you lynched." That comment came from Marx. Lochlan pulled down his shirt, grimacing. The pain had his entire body throbbing. Through the gaping hole at the top of the stairs, he could see dawn creeping in; the sun turning the sky a warm glow of oranges and yellows and blues. It had only been a few hours since Sven’s men kidnapped Penny. He didn't know exactly where the manor was located, but he hoped they had gotten there in time. Penny had taken something. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't think they could save her. His chest was tight, panic trying to set in around the pain. As the poison tore him apart, the pain kept him together. It held his sanity in place. Wherever she was now, she was so far away their link was silent. He felt the void, like a piece of him was missing. Lochlan hoped Pe
~ Shea found Marx on the roof of Lochlan's house. From the front, all you could see were trees spread out without much of a view. "Expecting company?" she asked, going to stand beside him. She hadn't seen her surrogate father in almost five years. With her being on the run, and him being a recluse, this was a reunion long overdue. "They don't need to come back here," Marx's voice sounded distant. It was a simple, cold fact. They had dealt the death blow. Shea knew Marx suspected they had meant the poison for him. Poison was personal. And whoever made it went through a hell of a lot to make sure it was undetectable, which made it incurable. They could do nothing for Lochlan now, but minimize his pain, and wait for the inevitable. "I haven't had a good hard fight in a
~Lochlan was barely holding on. His breathing was erratic and his pulse was irregular. Marx had an all-night vigil, watching him, hoping he would wake up. It was the most painful experience, watching someone you love suffering on their deathbed. He thought about ending it, about putting Lochlan out of his suffering, but he couldn't. Marx hoped some miracle would happen. He wanted to rage, break things. Hunt down Sven and do what he should have done years ago. But he had made a promise. On her deathbed, Celeste had made him promise he wouldn't live a life full of hate, narrowed by vengeance. As she lay bleeding and dying in his arms, he had made the promise. Now Sven had taken someone else he loved. Lochlan was closer to a son for him than any of the others. To see him like this... Marx left to take a walk to the cliffs. When he needed to clear his head,
~The Mountain was getting crowded. Outside of the seven who stayed inside the house, there were nine others camped out in the woods in tents. Bryan, Zack, Nico, and his mate had finally turned up with the good news that the word was spreading like wildfire. Marx thought back to Penny, and how such a minor situation could link to such a big conspiracy. Everything was unraveling faster than he could piece the madness together. There were things they still didn't know, like Penny's purpose. It was a unanimous consensus that she had to be a part of all this. How big a part… Shea was off helping to figure that out. He could hear laughter ringing in the night. That had never happened here before; such a large gathering of werewolves. They hunted, cooking over open fire pits, sipping beer and swapping stories. It was like an impromptu family reunion. Mar
~Halfway into the second week, eighteen werewolves were camping out in the woods. The warning Marx had given about a coming attack was being heeded. Daniel had all tents strategically placed, with watchers being sent out in a rotation to monitor the Mountain. Marx warned them about the boundary ofthe back range of the Mountain. The natives could sense that the population of werewolves had increased, and they would already have measures in place. If any werewolf strayed, they’d be killed. Shea and Daniel oversaw everything as Marx kept his distance. Being the perpetual pessimist that he was, he placed no stock in any plan that didn't involve them packing their thingsand leaving as fast as possible. Putting as much distance between them, the Mountain, and whatever Sven was planning. From what he could tell, most of the werewolves had never bee
~By sunset the following day, none of them had come to their senses. Martha, with the help of Shea, set up for the ceremony at the front of the house. It was the only open space big enough for the massive circle they made, lined off with stones. Between each stone, Shea half-buried candlesticks right around. Marx had hoped at least half of them would have backed out and made a run for it. Who would have blamed them? Instead, he was stuck with a group of mostly untrained werewolves and the heavy task of being their Alpha. Uncomfortable was how it felt, standing in the middle of the circle. Everyone watched as Martha painted old rune symbols across his torso, placing a single mark on his forehead. While she did so, she mumbled a bunch of strange words, the flickering lights of the candles playing over her face. He had expected the ritual to be simple. No more than maybe five minutes long, tops. It tur
~Three more werewolves arrived during their time in Lochlan's room. Marx had changed none of them, but they made their pledge. Now he had fifty-nine marks; his pack was growing. It would have been one thing had it been Moon Magic, Earth Magic, or even an Alchemist Rite. They would have welcomed any other magic over Shadow Magic. Added to that Sven was looking for, and had already possibly found, the portal to Lansguard. Its sealing kept the surviving werewolves and vampires safe. It kept the humans safe. The Order of Shadows, according to Celeste, had been on a mad charge for power. To gain this power, they needed souls. The events of the cleansing she had described were harrowing. Opening the portal wouldn't just let Sven go through. It was a two-way street. The earth had billions of souls the Order
~ Marx stood looking at the carbonated lump that used to be four people he knew. Four people he loved. Ava, Lochlan, Zack, and Dempsey. Around him, the grass had grown again. The earth showed no signs of the battle that raged there. Mother earth had healed, but he had not. None of the others had. The world was safe, but a gap remained in their hearts that could never be filled. Around the base of the carbon memorial, laid fresh flowers. Every day for the past six months, Martha came with a new bouquet. Today was no different. He arrived as she did. “You came,” she had said to him when she saw him. In her hands, she had more than a dozen bulbs of tulips. Her summer dress fluttered in the breeze, strands of her now brown hair escaping her ponytail. The smile she gave him out shunned the sun, and Marx, for the life
~Marx was leading the last assault; one meant to be a distraction. Ava moved her palm away from the wound on her side. Bleeding still felt strange to her. Martha was the only one with whom she could go into details about her plans. “Penny has the last rune. All she has to do is plant it on him. When she does, we have only a few minutes to get our part done,” she said to Martha. “What is our part?” “I’m going to use you like an amplifier. I know how it sounds and yes, it is dangerous. For me more than you.” “Then we can’t do it,” Martha said. “If you’re going to get hurt—” “I have a contingency for that as well.” “Ava—” She
~Rea and Cale launched direct attacks on Kunz while Ava tried to unravel his protections. Each layer she pulled apart revealed another was more entrenched and more intricate than the one preceding it. She almost got another layer undone when she heard Cale shout— “Look out.” Ava had enough time to react, the death rune crackling through the air towards her. She split the force in half, saving herself by a hair. In the duel that ensued, Cale made the ultimate sacrifice. Rea tried to stop him as he ran straight for Kunz. Ava threw up a rune between Cale and the King; it was too late. Like dust, Cale disappeared. A self-satisfied smile lifted the side of Kunz’s lips. “Come now Avana. You cannot hope to defeat me. Even with all the knowledge at your disposal, I have spent years perfecting my craft.”
~They came through using three portals. Cale and Rea helped Ava to create one large enough to transport all of their forces. On the other side, they emerged on the field of battle in Hedgewood. The ground was scarred black. Trees toppled over and uprooted. It looked like a nuclear weapon went off, turning black everything in its path. The familiarity of the scene had an itch running down Marx’s spine. This place was either where they would claim victory or where he would walk over the corpses of the people he loved. He brushed his somber thoughts aside. Victory was their only option. To Ava, who stood on his right, Marx said, “Your handy work?” “I may have caused a patch here and there.” She bobbed her head from side to side. It was such a human gesture Marx found he had an urge to smile. He allowed his amu
~ Storming Hedgewood had to wait. Ava’s ‘problem’ required a second’s more thought. So close to the end, Marx was growing impatient. They needed to strike while they could and delays after delays were shifting the advantage square into the enemy’s hands. He folded his arms across his chest, keeping his face void of his emotions as he listened to Ava. “He has layers of protection wrapped around him like a shawl,” she was telling them as they stood inside the lobby of Anax Corp. Having the conversation on the outside felt too open. While they conversed, the last of the civilians and the injured were being ushered to the safety of the Mountain. Those left behind were there to fight. Marx found he was itching to fight. Ava continued. “We got through three of them before we had to retreat.” “Kunz spent years perfectin
~The sky was a battlefield. Above Pentorium, spreading out for miles, the shadows fought amongst themselves. Those made from the spirits of dead vampires clashing against those created from werewolves. Marx had control of the latter. It was surreal watching it all unfold. Anabella came to stand by Marx as he stood gazing up at the result of his power. Power he would never have dreamed of having. Explaining to the others what he could do would have paled compared to the scene unfolding over their heads. “This is what Sven wanted from her,” Anabella said about Sven and his sister, Marx’s mate, Celeste. “And when he couldn’t take it, he planned to break the seal on the portal.” “I can’t imagine having that man’s thoughts inside my head,” Marx said. “I rather
~Vescovi’s head throbbed as if a drummer band was marching across his forehead. Making his way through the tunnel with his men, a blast came out of nowhere, knocking them down and rendering them unconscious. He woke up in a crumpled heap with his men, all in various stages of recovery. It took him several tries to get to his feet and stay there, the drumming in his head growing louder with each movement. Walking straight was a task, but it was urgent that they get to Xavier and the others. They were delayed enough as it was getting the remaining civilians under Anax Corp ready for transport to the Mountain. Pentorium was under an evacuation order. He paused when he saw that the panel leading out of the tunnels was open. It was plausible that Xavier had left it like that since it was their way in and out, but Vescovi could not ignore the prickle at
~Martha moved to run to Nico as a shadow took possession of his body. Four steps in his direction, she stopped. Nico faced her direction, his eyes twin pools of swirling mist. The thing inside of him had his lips turn up in a smirk. With hot tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, Martha clutched her fingers into tight fists. The words came from the pits of her stomach. The ground under her feet undulated, rippling with energy as she spoke them. Nico charged in her direction, his face twisted in rage. Martha held up her hand, palm open, continuing the chant, repeating it with fervor and a new understanding. Death fueled shadow magic. Hate. Anger. All the dark things that sullied the world. The spell was the most powerful she had ever attempted since Ava infused the revenant soul with hers. She had to release control to it. Allow the magic to ru
~Martha couldn’t breathe, her anxiety tightening her chest. Through her link with Nico, she could feel his growing distress. It urged her to move faster as she sprinted through the hidden tunnels leading down into the subway. Back at Anax Corp, Vescovi was assembling a team, a process that was taking longer than was comfortable with her. Nico and the others needed immediate help. Communications, already spotty, had gone dead. Not a single response, only the constant frying of static. Unable to stand around doing nothing while the man she loved probably laid gutted and dying, Martha snuck off when no one was looking. None of the others knew what she was planning to do. If they did, they would have tried to stop her. She was the passive one. The one who chose not to fight. For a werewolf, her reliance on that part of herself never went past her prim