lightning witch 02 - lightning legacy (11 page)

BOOK: lightning witch 02 - lightning legacy
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Distantly I heard my cell phone ring, but clearly some thoughtful, yet misguided person took it out to let me heal. I pulled myself to my feet and made my way on unsteady feet to the door. I smelled of burnt feathers and charred plastic. I cared little. I had to find Delaney. Surely she was stopped by Mark, who had downstairs duty. Either that or she incapacitated him. I slowly made my way down the mountain of stairs. I could finally give the order to kill that piece of shit Reid. Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would go there and do it myself. My mouth watered and my cock stiffened at the thought of it.

At the bottom of the stairs, just off to the left, I heard the rumble of several members of the pack. But I veered right to the sound of one muffled voice. I’d no idea why my instinct told me to go this way, but I had learned to trust it. I felt a chill run up my back. I heard a lone voice coming from just ahead of me. Clearly the person was trying to be quiet. I didn't know why this seemed odd to me, but my hackles were most definitely raised. I strained to hear the person's voice.

"Mitch will be up in a few hours. He hurt her and I wasn't okay with it. I helped her get out. I don't know where she went." I knew the voice, and the betrayal stung. The hurt was overshadowed by pure rage. I’d hurt Delaney, and the thought of what I’d done to her turned me on. I pushed the memories out and tried to focus on Mark's voice.

"Because she was kind to me when she had no reason to be, and she took the pain that was meant for me." His tone held a note of pain. Pain that was meant for him? I knew she couldn't have gotten out by herself. I would kill him for this. My vision was wavering from clear to fogged by the red of rage. There was a pause in the conversation. Then a thought hit me, who could he be talking to? Could more of my pack be against me than I thought? I needed to let this play out, so even though it went against everything my beast was screaming, I did not interrupt the conversation.

In a tone so low I had to strain to hear, Mark said, “No. All I can say is she’s not in Atlanta. I can’t talk though. Mitch will be conscious in a number of hours. I did what I could to help her.” I assumed he hung up because I didn’t hear anything else. I waited a few heartbeats and walked into the room.

“Mark.” I had to fight to make my voice even. It came out forced the best I could manage considering I was nearly choking on rage.

He jumped at the sound of my voice. It was obvious I rattled him. Good. He looked at me and his eyes went wide. The beast inside me riled at the sight of his discomfort.

“You seem surprised to see me,” I quipped.

“Oh, no I’m sorry, I was just startled,” he replied calmly. While the words were true, his calm was feigned.

“Fill me in. I don’t recall what happened after that bitch put me out,” I spat the words. I was pissed and I was only a hair away from losing it completely. But I needed to get as much information from him as I could. I did not want him to think I heard him.

"My memory is a bit fuzzy as well. I heard some thuds and moans and thought she had given herself to you, so I settled down. I must have dozed off because the next thing I heard were footsteps coming down the stairs. I thought it was you until I scented her, but she rushed me and sent a jolt through me. I nearly pissed myself. I woke up and she was gone. When I went to check on you, you were badly burned and not healing well, so I set in the protocol. I gathered the pack and sent a small group to track her down. I haven't heard from them yet." His tone was even. Too even, as though he was forcing it.

“Also, um, sir. I have not heard from either of the guards.” Now, these words he was stuttering over.

“What? Have you accessed the security footage?” I was almost afraid to ask. Then the scent in the air changed. It became metallic and sweet. I breathed it in deeply. Fear. I shuddered at the tantalizing scent. My eyes slid shut for a brief moment. Mark must have been convinced that I hadn’t heard him because this was the first time since I entered the room that he exhibited this amount of fear. I blinked and peered over at him. I knew my eyes had begun to glow at his uneasy expression.

“Um, well, no I’d not gotten there yet. But, I’ll do it now.” He nearly tripped over the words. I waited, unmoving. I didn’t dare look at the screen. I had a sinking feeling I knew who he was on the phone with and it only enraged me more. He turned and the look on his face was confirmation enough.

I turned to the wall at my back and punched a hole in it. There was no pain, there was only the pleasure of destruction.
Everything is falling apart.
I needed to kill something. I was unraveling and I was losing control. I’d suspected that Reid was gone after the conversation I overheard, but hadn’t wanted to believe it. My vision was hazing and I knew the beast was throwing itself at the sides of its cage.

I felt arms pulling on my shoulders. The touch seemed to help clear my vision slightly. I realized that I felt soft flesh beneath my now curling claws. I blinked rapidly to aid my vision and felt throbbing under my fingertips. Then the sharp scent of blood assaulted my senses. I thrummed with excitement. Finally, I was able to see that I held Mark up against the wall. My claw-tipped hand was wrapped around his throat. Then my hearing kicked in.

“Mitch, Mitch, can you hear me? You need to let Mark down. We will figure this out.”

It was Dillon. I needed? I roared in frustration and incredulity.
The fuck he is going to tell me I need to do anything.
My bellow silenced him and caused Mark to thrash out.
Good, I like the struggle
. My grip was slipping and I was loving every moment of it.

“Need? Oh, you insignificant wolf. I have only one need right now. Mark has betrayed us. Betrayed me. Take him, before I slaughter him.” My voice was guttural and dripping with hatred. I stepped back, letting Mark fall to the floor. Dillon tried to go to him and help him up, but Mark waved him away. I didn’t know why, but I saw that action as admirable. He stood up, squared his shoulders and narrowed his gaze to me. I nearly lost it again as this was a blatant challenge and the beast in me wouldn’t have it.

I swallowed back my disdain to choke out one word, "Why?" It was a snarl, but it was the best I could manage.

“Because you beat her, you abused her in more ways than one, and, above all else, because she didn’t deserve it. This prophecy may be true, but nowhere are you mentioned in it, Mitch. You have no right.”

I launched myself at him. I laid into him and no one dared stop me this time. I felt my claws sink into flesh. The way the skin tensed under my claws then gave way with a silent pop nearly sent me into a frenzy. I stopped myself, knowing I didn’t want to kill him, not yet. I had a plan. I always had a plan. I backed away from Mark’s limp, crumpled form lying on the ground. I’d ravaged his neck. His throat was nothing but a mangled mess. Blood dripped from my fingertips to add to the carnage at my feet.

“Take him to the basement.” The words were garbled and rough. I wouldn’t need to repeat myself though. I absent-mindedly stepped aside, letting Dillon drag Mark away; all the while I was licking my fingers clean. The tangy taste sizzled on my tongue.

“Is it true? Mark let her go?” It was Matthew, my first.

I whirled to face him. Matthew was a big son of a bitch. While he was as tall as me, he was massive, a mixed martial artist before I changed him. He was so tanned, he neared red. The only hair on his head was located along his jaw. It was a black sprinkle, causing him to look harsh. Matthew owned a gym and that made easy pickings for the pack.

“Yes,” I said between gritted teeth. My heart was beating so wildly it felt as though my whole body was throbbing.

“Mitch, Reid is gone, or I’m assuming, based on the fact that we haven’t heard from the guards. And Delaney is gone. What do we do now?” His voice was even and showed no inflection of fear. He trusted his alpha.

I glanced at him and smiled with all teeth.

"We can’t bring down the witches without Delaney. So we need to get her back. I’m betting she went north to save Reid. So we go north." Matthew smiled at the prospect of hunting prey. It's what we lived for. He turned to leave.

“Matthew, do me a favor while I get ready for Mark’s …” I trailed off shivering at the thought, “...upcoming treatment.”

Matthew eyed me warily, but I could tell by the sour edge to his scent that he was excited. “Yes, alpha?”

“Call Mark’s wife. Let her know she is about to be a widow. Also, send Tyler south just in case she was dumb enough to go to Savannah.” I waved him away, but not before I saw a smile break out over his cold face.

I walked to my room to ready for Mark and after, we would go north. My instincts were screaming that’s where she would run and I needed to trust them. I had a plan I knew would work. I just had to find my little white wolf.

 

 

 

 

SOUTH. THAT’S WHERE
I planned to run. Okay, the word plan was a little strong. I had nowhere else to run. So, I ran to the only place where I could gather myself enough to formulate a real plan.
Good lord, I have no idea what I’m doing. This "plan" is so dumb. Maybe Mitch won’t think I would be this dumb, so he wouldn't think to look here.

Seriously, Delaney? Ugh.

I would run to Troy. Okay, so I did realize that he may not be the most stable person I could go to, but he was the only person I had left.

Yeah well, what if you get him killed too?
Shut up, self! Ugh. I was losing my mind! I had just enough money to get to Savannah on a bus. This fact, under normal circumstances, wouldn't have been an issue, but now that I had super senses, it was the fifth circle of hell. No, really, I thought it was located under the definition of cruel and most certainly unusual punishment. I nearly trampled every other poor person on that bus of disgust to get out. Now, I needed to walk to Troy's.

Then I had a thought that caused me to pause and ice to wash over me.
What if Mitch has already done something to Troy?
What if … oh God … No, I wouldn’t think like that. I did pick up my step, just in case.

 

 

IT TOOK ME
nearly two hours to walk to Troy’s, but I had a weird feeling as I stood outside. I could feel something inside I’d never felt before: a sting of energy. There was a witch inside his house.
Is he in trouble? Okay, calm down, Delaney, rushing in guns drawn won’t help.
I took a deep breath and walked to the door. Troy’s house was in need of a little of renovation, but it was on the edge of downtown and a great price. Okay, renovation may be too light of a word. The damn place looked as if a strong breeze would bring it crumbling to the ground. Troy called it charming. I called it a fire hazard. The only thing that wasn’t kindling was the swing that hung just to the right of the door way.

Just as I went to knock on the door, I heard what sounded like two screaming teenage girls inside. Then, I heard a fire alarm going off. The front door flew open and smoke seemed to create a halo around the form standing in front of me. This form was not Troy. Nor was the power I felt coming from him. His face looked just as shocked as mine. He was about six foot tall and, oh holy hot sauce, he was attractive. He had on a black button-down shirt that was tucked into dark-wash jeans. His hair was a mix of milk and bittersweet chocolate and his eyes nearly matched the shade of his hair. The lines of his face weren't chiseled; it seemed more like they were molded to perfection. His skin was a mix of cream and peach. He was jaw dropping. Literally, if my mouth gaped any larger, a bird might take it as an invitation to build a nest.

Our eyes met and his went wide. Though this man didn’t set off any alarm bells, I did not want to take any chances. I pulled lightning from my core to my palms. The feeling of pulling so rapidly, rather than the slow build, burned slightly. His gaze flicked to my sparking hands and his hand flew to his mouth.

He raised his hands up as if to say, “I’m unarmed and I come in peace.” All while never taking his eyes off me. Then turned his head and yelled, “Troy, I need you to come to the door.” Part of me relaxed at hearing Troy’s name. The man’s voice held a thick southern accent, but it wasn’t anything from Georgia. Texas maybe? His tone, though, was so low that if I had balls, they would surely have been tingling.

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