ONE
I
COULDN’T SHUT OUT the screams. Darkness surrounded me. A
terrible weight pressed into my chest, making me struggle for each
breath as I lay drowning in my own blood. I sat up with a gasp,
blinking into the shadows.
The screaming had
stopped. The room became still, flooded with silence. I took a
couple of painful swallows, trying to moisten my parched mouth. It
took me a moment to realize that the screams had been my own, each
cry clawing my throat until it was raw. I brought my hands up to my
chest. My fingers moved along the surface of my shirt. The fabric
was smooth, with no sign of rips or tears from the crossbow bolts.
I couldn’t see well in the dim light, but I could tell this shirt
wasn’t mine, or rather, wasn’t Shay’s borrowed sweater—the one I’d
been wearing the night everything changed.
A blur of images
rushed through my head. A blanket of snow. A dark forest. The
pounding of drums. Howls calling me to the union.
The union. My blood
grew cold. I’d run from my own destiny.
I’d run from Ren.
The thought of the Bane alpha made my chest tighten, but when I
dropped my face into my hands, another figure replaced him. A boy
on his knees, blindfolded and bound, alone in the
forest.
Shay.
I could hear his
voice, feel the brush of his hands on my cheek as I’d slipped in
and out of consciousness. What had happened? He’d left me alone in
the dark for so long. . . . I was still alone. But
where?
My eyes adjusted to
the low light of the room. The cloudy skies filtered sunlight
through tall leaded windows stretching the length of the opposite
wall, tingeing pale shadows with a rose-hued gleam as I scanned the
room for an exit, finding a tall oak door to the right of the bed.
Ten, maybe fifteen feet from where I sat.
I managed to slow my
breathing, but my heart was still pounding. Swinging my legs over
the edge of the bed, I tentatively put weight on my feet. I had no
trouble standing and felt each muscle spring back to life, coiled
and taut, ready for anything.
I’d be able to
fight, and kill, if I had to.
The sound of booted
footsteps reached my ears. The knob turned and the door swung
inward to reveal a man I’d seen only once before. He had thick
hair, deep brown like the color of black coffee. The contours of
his face were cut at strong, chiseled angles, slightly worn with
lines and covered with the shadow of several days of unshaven,
salt-and-pepper stubble—neglected but still appealing.
I’d last seen his
face seconds before he coldcocked me with the pommel of his sword.
My canines sharpened as a growl rumbled deep in my
chest.
He opened his mouth
to speak, but I shifted into a wolf, crouching low, snarling at
him. I kept my fangs in plain view, a steady growl rolling out of
my throat. I had two options: tear him to pieces or bolt past him.
I was guessing I had only a few seconds to pick one.
His hand went to his
waist, pushing back his long leather duster to rest on the hilt of
a long, curving saber.
A fight it is.
My muscles quivered
as I hunched down, angling for his throat.
“Wait.” He moved his
hand off the hilt, lifting his palms in an attempt to pacify
me.
I froze, stunned by
the gesture and a little irked at his presumption. I wouldn’t be
calmed that easily. After a quick snap of my fangs, I risked a
glance toward the hall at his back.
“You don’t want to
do that,” he said, stepping into my line of sight.
I answered with a
growl.
And you don’t want to find out what I’m capable of when
I’m cornered.
“I understand the
impulse,” he continued, folding his arms over his chest, the sword
in its scabbard. “You might get past me. Then you’ll run into a
security detail at the end of the hall. And if you get past
them—which I think you probably could, given that you’re an
alpha—you’ll hit a larger group of guards at any of the
exits.”
“Given that you’re an alpha.” How does he know who I
am?
Still growling, I
backed off, throwing a glance over my shoulder at the tall windows.
I could easily smash through them. It would hurt, but as long as it
wasn’t too high a drop, I’d survive.
“Not an option,” he
said, glancing at the windows.
What is this guy? A mind reader?
“That’s at least a
fifty-foot drop onto solid marble.” He took a step forward. I
backed up again. “And no one here wants to see you get
hurt.”
The growl died in my
throat.
His voice dropped
low and he spoke slowly. “If you’d shift back into human form, we
could talk.”
I gnashed my teeth,
frustrated, sidling along the floor. But we both knew I was feeling
less sure of myself by the minute.
“If you try to run,”
he continued, “we’ll be forced to kill you.”
He’d said it so
calmly that it took a moment for me to process the
words.
I let out a sharp
bark of protest that turned to dark laughter as I shifted into
human form.
“I thought no one
here wanted to hurt me.”
One corner of his
mouth crinkled. “We don’t. Calla, I’m Monroe.”
He took a step
forward.
“Stay where you
are,” I said, flashing my canines.
He didn’t come any
closer.
“You haven’t tried
to kill me yet,” I replied, still scanning the room for anything
that would give me a tactical advantage. “But that doesn’t mean I
can trust you. If I see that steel hanging from your belt move an
inch, you lose an arm.”
He
nodded.
Questions pounded in
my skull, making my head ache. The sensation of breathlessness
threatened to overwhelm me again. I couldn’t afford to panic. I
also couldn’t afford to show any weakness.
Memories stirred
deep within me, swirling beneath my skin and raising gooseflesh
along my arms. Cries of pain echoed in my head. I shivered, seeing
wraiths ooze around me like nebulous shadows while succubi screamed
overhead. My blood went icy.
“Monroe! The boy is over here!”
“Where is
Shay?”
I choked on his
name, terror welling up in my throat as I waited for Monroe’s
response.
Snatches from the
past flitted through my mind, a blur of images that wouldn’t stay
in focus. I struggled with the memories, trying to catch them and
hold them in place so that I could make sense of what had happened,
how I’d gotten here. I remembered racing through narrow halls,
realizing we’d been cornered, and finding our way into the library
at Rowan Estate. Shay’s uncle, Bosque Mar, eroding my outrage with
doubts about what was happening to us.
Shay’s fingers clutched my hand so tightly it hurt. “Tell
me who you really are.”
“I’m your uncle,” Bosque said calmly, walking toward us.
“Your own flesh and blood.”
“Who are the Keepers?” Shay asked.
“Others like me, who want only to protect you. To help
you,” Bosque replied. “Shay, you are not like other children. You
have untapped abilities that you cannot begin to imagine. I can
show you who you truly are. Teach you to use the power you
have.”
“If you’re so invested in helping Shay, why was he the
sacrifice at my union?” I pushed Shay behind me, shielding him from
Bosque.
Bosque shook his head. “Another tragic misunderstanding. A
test, Calla, of your loyalty to our noble cause. I thought we
offered you the best of educations, but perhaps you aren’t familiar
with Abraham’s trial with his son Isaac? Isn’t the sacrifice of one
you love the ultimate gauge of your faith? Do you really believe we
wanted Shay to die at your hands? We’ve asked you to be his
protector.”
I began to shake. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Bosque smiled, and it almost looked kind. “After
all you’ve been through, have you no trust in your masters? You
would never have been made to harm Shay—another kill would have
been provided in his place at the last moment. I understand such a
test may seem too terrible to be fair, too much to ask of you and
Renier. Perhaps you are too young to have faced such a
trial.”
I balled my hands
into fists so Monroe wouldn’t see them shaking. I could hear the
screams of succubi and incubi, hear the hissing chimeras and the
shuffling gait of those horrible, desiccated creatures that had
crawled out of the portraits lining Rowan Estate’s
walls.
“Where is he?” I
asked again, grinding my teeth. “I swear if you don’t tell
me—”
“He’s in our care,”
Monroe said calmly.
There was that half
smirk again. I couldn’t puzzle out this man’s reserved but
confident demeanor.
I wasn’t sure what
“care” meant in this case. Keeping my fangs bared, I edged across
the room, waiting for Monroe to make a move. Even as I watched him,
blurry images of the past wavered before my eyes like
watercolors.
Cold metal encircling my arms. The click of locks and the
sudden absence of weight from my wrists. The warmth of a gentle
touch rubbing away the icy chill on my skin.
“Why isn’t she awake yet?” Shay asked. “You promised she
wouldn’t be hurt.”
“She’ll be fine,” Monroe said. “The enchantment from the
bolts acts like a heavy sedative; it will take some time to wear
off.”
I tried to speak, to move, but my eyelids were so heavy,
the darkness of slumber pulling me beneath its surface
again.
“If we can reach an
agreement, I’ll take you to him,” Monroe continued.
“An agreement?” I
was right about not wanting to show weakness. If I was making any
sort of deal with a Searcher, it had to be on my
terms.
“Yes,” he said,
risking a step toward me. When I didn’t protest, he began to smile.
He wasn’t being deceptive—I didn’t catch the scent of fear—but his
smile was chased away by something else. Pain?
“We need you,
Calla.”
My confusion buzzed
more loudly, forcing me to shake it off like a pesky swarm of
flies. I had to appear confident, not distracted by his strange
behavior.
“Who exactly is
‘we’? And what do you need me for?”
My anger had
dissolved, but I concentrated on keeping my canines razor sharp. I
didn’t want Monroe to forget for one minute who he was dealing
with. I was still an alpha—I needed to remember that as much as he
needed to see it. That strength was the only thing I had going for
me right now.
“My people,” he
said, vaguely gesturing behind him toward whatever lay beyond the
door. “The Searchers.”
“You’re their
leader?” I frowned.
He looked strong but
grizzled—like someone who never got as much sleep as he really
needed.
“I’m a leader,” he said. “I head up the Haldis team; we
run operations out of the Denver outpost.”
“Let’s talk about your friends in
Denver.”
Somewhere in the
recesses of my mind, Lumine, my mistress, smiled and a Searcher
screamed.
I crossed my arms
over my chest so I wouldn’t shudder. “Okay.”
“But it’s not just
my team that needs your help,” he continued, turning suddenly to
pace in front of the door. “We all do. Everything has changed; we
don’t have any time to waste.”
He ran his hands
through his dark hair as he spoke. I considered bolting—he was
clearly distracted—but something about his manner mesmerized me,
enough so that I didn’t know if escape was what I really wanted
anymore.
“You might be our
only chance. I don’t think the Scion can do this alone. You might
be the final part of the equation. The tipping point.”
“The tipping point
of what?”
“This war. You can
end it.”
War. The word set my
blood boiling. I was glad for it; the heat coursing through my
veins made me feel stronger. This war was the one I’d been raised
to fight.
“We need you to join
us, Calla.”
I could barely hear
him. I was trapped in a red fog—thoughts of the violence that
consumed so much of my life filled my being.
The Witches’ War.
I’d served the
Keepers in their battles against the Searchers since I could cut
flesh with my teeth. I’d hunted for them. I’d killed for
them.
My eyes focused on
Monroe. I’d killed his people. How
could he possibly want me to join them?
As if sensing my
wariness, he froze in place. He didn’t speak but clasped his hands
behind his back, watching me, waiting for me to speak.
I swallowed, forcing
steadiness into my voice. “You want me to fight for
you.”
“Not just you,” he
said. I could tell he was fighting to control his words as well. He
seemed desperate to flood the air between us with his thoughts.
“But you’re the key. You’re an alpha, a leader. That’s what we
need. It’s what we’ve always needed.”
“I don’t
understand.”
His eyes were so
bright as he spoke I didn’t know whether to be afraid or
fascinated. “The Guardians, Calla. Your pack. We need you to bring
them over to us. To fight with us.”
It felt like the
floor had dropped out beneath me and I was falling. I wanted to
believe what he was saying, because wasn’t this the very thing I’d
hoped for?
A way to free my pack.
Yes. Yes, it was.
Even now my heart was racing with the thought of returning to Vail,
of finding my packmates. Of getting back to Ren. I could take them
all away from the Keepers. To something else. Something
better.
But the Searchers
were my enemies . . . I could only tread carefully if I made a pact
with them. I decided to play up my reluctance.
“I don’t know if
that’s possible. . . .”
“But it is!” Monroe
lurched forward as if to grab my hands, a mad glint in his
eyes.
I leapt back,
shifting into wolf form, and snapped at his fingers.
“I’m sorry.” He
shook his head. “There’s so much you don’t know.”
I shifted back. His
face was etched with deep lines. Haunted, full of
secrets.
“No sudden moves,
Monroe.” I took slow steps toward him, extending my hand, warding
off another approach. “I’m interested, but I’m not convinced that
you know what you’re asking of me.”
“I do.” He looked
away, almost flinching at his own words. “I’m asking you to risk
everything.”
“And why would I do
that?” I asked.
I already knew the
answer. I’d risked everything to save Shay. And I’d do it again in
a heartbeat if it meant I could get back to my packmates. If I
could save them.
He stepped back and
extended his arm, clearing my path to the open door.
“Freedom.”