Semua Bab The Pack's Emissary: Bab 161 - Bab 170

Havermouth, Present Time“I’m fine, my darling, truly, cross my heart,” Connery pressed the heel of his hand to his chest earnestly. Meguitte narrowed her eyes at him with suspicion. He was still paler than normally, with shadows pressed deep into his under eyes.“Have a sandwich and a cup of tea,” the werewolf Diana insisted offering both from a tray. She was going around the lower floor exchanging food and drinks for blood, and Meguitte sent her a side-eye. “I won’t take his blood,” Diana added hastily. “I can see that he can’t spare it. Perhaps you could, though?”“Me?” Meguitte was astonished by the suggestion.“It won’t take more than ten minutes, and I’m very gentle, I promise.”“It’s not that,” Meguitte explained. “I’m just… not an ordinary vampire. I have none of their normal powers.”“All blood is good blood at the moment,” Diana had sensed surrender and was preparing the kit.Meguitte sat next to Connery and rolled up her sleeve.He smiled at her. “How generous you are my be

Havermouth, Present Time“You’re doing great,” Heath was breathless. He and Rhett had run, dragging with them several screaming witches. They had been pursued, by Mer, by zombies, by the few Van Helsing soldiers who had survived, but they’d been able to put some distance between them with help from the dragons in the sky. It had been very weird to see the dragons sending bolts of lighting and fire to hold off pursuit. One of them had done something that had made the earth beneath Heath’s feet tremble with a clap of thunder that had his ears still ringing.The timing had been perfect. They’d headed towards Leighton’s warehouse, and just as he’d started to debate which warehouse was likely, the door of the Stock Feed and Animal Supplies warehouse had opened revealing Phillip Salem. When he’d entered and seen Aislen on her hands and knees in a clearing within the filthy warehouse, he had not known whether to be relieved or despairing. The warehouse was so precarious a place for his mate

Havermouth, Present TimeAislen was looking down at a chessboard. She was holding a little statuette of Verina in her hand. She shook as she set it down on her side of the board and looked up at the woman who sat across from her. This time, the handmaiden or goddess, whatever she was, wore gold. Not some cheap and tacky replica, or some misleading named yellow, but true gold.An elaborate metal headdress began on her forehead, framing her face and covering her hair, continuing from just below her chin to spread over her shoulders and down her chest. The dress was made of fine chain link that draped like material, clinging to her curvaceous body, before dripping away into the aether that crept around their feet. Her lips were painted gold, and so were her eyelids and eyebrows. Golden rings encircled her fingers, and her wrists and arms were heavy with bracelets and cuffs. The tips of her fingers were dipped in gold.She was magnificent and regal and there was a formality to the way tha

Havermouth, Present TimeMeguitte placed herself between Leighton and the spell trap. She wanted his attention focused on her and away from where Mercy was hidden behind a fragile illusion and the longer that she kept it to the center of the room, the better.She had felt the shift of power when he’d used it outside the hospital and wondered what he had done. It had to have been a significant magic for her to feel the shiver of it cross her skin standing the fine hairs on end like static electricity. Good, she thought. There was a limit to how much magic any witch or warlock could use. It took effort and tired the user. The more Leighton exerted himself elsewhere, the better.And then she thought about the injured people and began to fret as to those she knew below. Sigrid and Talen had gone, she comforted herself, but she could not recall if she had seen Harry leave. And had they let the other vampires know?She stood with her heart pounding heavily in dread.“Meguitte!” The call was

Havermouth, Present TimeLyric watched Niarthen with a heavy weight on her heart. He had always been honest with her that it was unlikely the Mer would make peace, but she had been hopeful, and she could tell that under his apparent pessimism, he had been too – if mainly because he had not wanted to disappoint her and had understood that as someone who had come so recently from the land, she had some loyalty to it and its people.The betrayal from above and the siren Priestesses' efforts to kill Leighton had stung Niarthen’s pride and his faith in his people. The disaster that had resulted had caused an even deeper wound. However, Niarthen’s helplessness hurt her mate the most. She could see it in the way he stood, the line of his shoulders, the lift of his chin.Sapphire’s death was another blow as Niarthen had held hopes of rehabilitating her. Lyric had been relieved when Sigrid had killed her. She was almost certain that the Mer woman had been using some sort of power to entrance N