All Chapters of The Pack's Emissary: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Havermouth, Present Time“Before we put these on,” Samuel looked at the gloves. “Ember and Toby, you should have some blood. If you would not mind?” He looked at Jules and Harry. “I don’t want to weaken myself donating before putting the gloves on, but if Jules could donate to them both, and perhaps drink from one of the witches to renew his strength…?”Harry looked dubious, but Jules stepped forward. “It makes sense, my love,” he said to Harry. “Both Ember and Toby are, well,” he grimaced apologetically at the two. “A little worse for the wear. A bit of blood should help improve their strength, and these gloves seem like a pretty raw deal…”“Okay,” Harry ceded reluctantly. “I guess I can see the sense behind it. I’ll go find you someone to eat afterward, however,” they stepped out into the hallway.Jules sat on the bed at Ember’s knees and patted the bed beside him. “Sit down Toby.”“Shit,” Toby sighed heavily but crossed to sit on the mattress beside him. “I hate this sort of shit.”

Havermouth, Present TimeHavermouth was being invaded. The streets were filled with zombies, Van Helsings and Mer. Both groups seemed to be primarily occupied with fighting each other, but they were not averse to dragging Talen’s group into the fray. The zombies were still driven by hunger, and the armored Mer offered little appeal when an easier-accessed food source was available.With Tom carrying Greg, and Dan Connery, that left Cameron, Talen, and Meguitte to defend their group. Cameron had only one usable arm to do it with, Talen was weakening steadily due to the extensive and terrible burns, and whilst Meguitte was recovering from her shock over the attack on Connery, she was far from focused.The zombies were not so much of a threat - although Talen did feel bad for their deaths knowing that they were still very much people, and people who had been torn from their lives and families, mutilated with the skull caps that seemed to replace parts of their skulls, and infected with a

Havermouth, Present TimeToby was brand new to being a dragon and did not even know the basics of shifting. He had transformed once into a dragon and had not left the ground when he had done so. The gloves meant that a full transformation was not possible, and so even that little experience in shifting was useless.It was necessary therefore, before they could take off and fight for the Emissary, to teach Toby to open his wings, and to take off. They took the man out through the witch’s kitchen, to the rear yard and there, Ember set about trying to teach Toby something that came instinctual to their kind.Samuel left the instructions to Ember knowing that she was better at such things, and stood guard, in case the witch’s ward failed, and a zombie or Mer soldier made it onto the property. Ember had succeeded in getting Toby to open his wings, and the delighted man stood opening and closing them whilst craning his head to look over his shoulder to see where they went."And suddenly my

Havermouth, Present TimeMagic was in its very nature an invisible thing. You did not see a spell cast, but rather the effects of the spell once it found its victim. Therefore, the warlock Leighton appeared to do very little other than stand with his hands pressed to the surface of the ward, the energy blowing back his hair and causing sweat to break out on his forehead, but Samuel could FEEL the power, and see the reaction of the ward, its opaque surface shifting like water, areas clearing so that the dragons caught brief glimpses of the witches below scurrying about like ants as they tried to reinforce their magic by scattering herbs and arcane objects, and drawing runes on the bitumen.Samuel’s memories of the gloves were still fragmented, but he could recall the power they had given him – not just increased speed, strength, and stamina, but also a magic that was unnatural to him. He could feel a similar magic burning through his veins towards his heart and brain, poisoning as it b

Havermouth, Present TimeRhett and Heath did not speak as they wound their way through the streets of Havermouth. There was little opportunity to talk, slinking through the shadows, down the little alleyways between houses, and cutting through back gardens, but there was also a heavy sense of silence between them so that Rhett knew that even if they had been able, they both would have been too lost in their thoughts. Or lost in their worries, would be more accurate.They had searched the area around the smoke thoroughly, even venturing into the still-burning buildings. There had been no sign of Aislen. And no response to their mental calls for their mate. An icy fist of dread had a tight grip on Rhett’s heart. Why was she not answering? She had to be unconscious or…They would know if she had died. He refused to believe otherwise.Had Leighton found her first? What would Leighton do if he had found Aislen? He still struggled to see Leighton as dangerous, whatever mental voodoo the man