Lords of the Were (15 page)

Howling mightily, Tim launched himself at the mage’s back, dropping him face first onto the ground, but Tim’s momentum took him a few feet past the man. Tim spun but the mage was already up, his hands outstretched as he muttered his curses, aiming his dark energies at Tim.

Good. That’s just what he wanted. He’d gladly trade his life to give Rafe a chance to get Allie to safety. She was the most important thing here. Her safety meant all. Plus, human magic wasn’t quite as effective against were as it would be against Allie. This warlock would have to be powerful indeed to be able to take down an alpha were wolf with his magic alone.

But he still had that silver blade. Tim saw it almost too late as he swerved to avoid the same poisonous blow that had nearly done in his brother. Landing awkwardly, Tim had a hard time regaining his feet. The slight hesitation could have cost him his life, but the mage was otherwise occupied.

Tim heard a crashing roar and then a huge black wolf was on the mage, tearing for his throat. The wolf didn’t smell quite right to Tim’s were senses, but a moment later he realized why as the vampire shifted form, pinning the human beneath him.

“Do you want to die slow or fast?” the vampire asked the struggling man.

To give Vabian credit, the mage mustered his strength and continued to fight until the bloodletter snapped his arm like a normal person would snap a dry twig. He stilled after that and the vampire let up a bit.

“Slow or fast, human? You’ve crossed me and I intend to have justice.”

The vampire’s cold voice sent shivers down even Tim’s spine.

“How about not at all?” Tim saw only a flash as the mage raised the bloody silver knife in his other hand, slashing down on the vampire with surprising strength.

The bloodletter jerked and let go of the mage, rising to his feet as the silver blade caused a sharp, deadly reaction in his ancient body. Silver was poisonous to were and vampire alike, it seemed.

The mage scrambled away and Tim was torn. He wanted to go after the mage and kill him for what he’d done to his brother and end the threat to Allie, but he couldn’t leave Allie unprotected with Rafe so badly hurt and a strange, wounded bloodletter nearby. Who knew what the vampire was capable of?

Making his decision and marking the trail well in his mind, Tim let the human go, looking to the wounded vampire as he leaned heavily against a tree, breathing harshly. Tim allowed the change to come over him until he faced the vampire in human form.

“The mage will die.”

Tim nodded. “If not today, then as soon as possible.”

“See to your woman.” The vampire jerked his chin in Allie’s direction.

“Your brother does not look well.”

As alpha, Tim didn’t take orders well—or at all, really—but he saw the sense in the ancient one’s words. Moving to where Rafe lay quietly panting and obviously in serious pain, Tim brushed himself off and helped Rafe and Allie into the house. He picked up the phone and dialed

for help immediately. He called on the pack to protect Betina and request she come to help treat Rafe’s wounds.

He spared a few seconds to put on a pair of jeans and headed back outside. The vampire was still out there and had to be dealt with.

Without his help, things could have turned out much worse. Yet he’d been instrumental in getting the magic user close enough to launch his attack. It was a sticky situation, to be sure.

Ambling down the porch steps, Tim found the vampire on the edge of the clearing that was the front yard of the house. He was still leaning against that same tree, apparently trying to gather his strength.

“Thanks for your intervention.” Tim nodded, keeping a wary distance.

“It’s the least I could do.” The ghost of a smirk passed the vampire’s lips.

“I’m Tim and that was my brother, Rafe. We are indebted to you for helping save the life of our mate. Her name is Allie.”

“Forgive me,” the vampire whispered, clearly shaken and gravely injured. “I didn’t know what Vabian was up to or I would never have come.”

“What can you tell us about him?” Tim’s voice was hard in the eerily silent forest.

“His name is Patrick Vabian. He claimed to be Altor Custodis when he came to see me several weeks ago. He knew enough of my past to make me believe him and he offered me the one thing he knew would tempt me.”

“Us?”

The bloodletter nodded. “Your predecessors killed someone very dear to me. I’ve wanted justice for a very long time.”

“I’m sorry for your loss but you have to understand, Rafe and I had nothing to do with it. We didn’t kill your friend. We never even knew him.

But I promise you this—whatever our predecessors may have done to

wrong you, we will try to make amends if your cause is just and it’s within our power. We owe you that much.” The vampire nodded, gritting his teeth in pain and losing strength rapidly. “I am Dante d’Angleterre. The death for which I seek justice is that of a firewitch named Erik Watson on October 8, 1871.”

“You seem to associate with a lot of magic users.”

“I do not make a habit of it, I assure you, but Erik was as a brother to me. He was the reincarnation of the brother I lost centuries ago. His death—” The vampire broke off, clearly choked by emotion, and perhaps more than his share of pain. He swallowed hard before continuing in a stronger voice. “It wounded me greatly.” Tim nodded. “We’ll look into it. There are some chronicles from that time we can access, given a few days.”

The vampire looked as drained as any being Tim had ever seen. He was literally white as snow as his blood drained away through the seeping wounds in his side that he clutched with both hands.

“Will you be okay?”

“I know a safe place not far.”

“But don’t you need blood?”

Just the word made the vampire’s eyes glow and his nostrils flare.

“Are you offering?”

Tim considered the bloodletter carefully. “I’ve heard that were blood is more potent to your kind than others, and I do owe you. I can’t give you much, but I’m willing if it will help you get to your safehouse.”

“Then I gladly accept. You should know though, this will bond us, just slightly.”

“You helped protect my mate. There are few deeper bonds than that for a were wolf.” Tim stepped up and offered his left wrist to the pale vampire. “Do what you need to do.”

Tim braced himself but when Dante bit down there was only one sharp jolt of pain, quickly replaced with a warm sizzle that felt almost pleasant. He watched the bloodletter’s mouth work as he sucked in the life giving fluid, and was amazed by the quick return of color to the snow white skin.

Dante stopped feeding much sooner than Tim expected and he knew this ancient being was a man of deeply rooted honor. The clues were all there, from the way Dante had let Vabian’s stumbling in the forest alert the brothers to their approach, to the way he took only what he needed so Tim wouldn’t be left too weak to protect his family.

“You have my thanks, Were Lord.”

“Call me Tim.”

The vampire bowed respectfully, though his haunting eyes stayed focused on Tim. He rubbed at his wrist, amazed to see no trace of the twin incisions that had been there only moments before. Even he didn’t normally heal this fast.

“We will meet again. I owe your lady and your brother an apology.” Tim nodded. “And we all owe Patrick Vabian some retribution.”

“Too true.”

“Do you have transportation?”

Dante sighed. “I flew here.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. You can shift into more than just a wolf?”

“That is a secret I hope you will keep close. Few, if any, know of my full abilities. Vabian didn’t know I could shift, though he had intimate details about my past. Hopefully my secret will die with him. Soon.” Tim threw him a set of keys from his pocket. “Take my bike. It’s in the back shed and small enough that you can take it indoors so no one will know where you’re holed up. I’d have offered my truck, but I figured you’d refuse.”

A rare smile crossed the vampire’s face. “You’re a clever man. Thanks for the loan.”

Five minutes later, Dante was gone and the first of the pack began to arrive with reinforcements. Tim deputized Rocky to sort out patrols while he went back inside to his badly wounded brother and mate. Betina was on her way, he knew. They would need her skill and strength to even begin healing Rafe. Tim had taken a quick look at his brother’s wounds and knew they were well beyond his ability to patch up. Plus, magic wounds usually defied the were’s natural ability to heal. Such wounds called for a specialist—a mage healer or a priestess of the Lady.

Betina arrived just a short while later, heavily guarded by more than her usual compliment of were. Tim was glad to see his people were taking no chances with the chosen of the Lady, even without an explicit order. They all knew how precious these special women were to their kind, and the greater world. That Betina chose to live so close with his people was a blessing they never took for granted.

“Who did this?” Betina was all business as she checked Rafe’s wounds. Allie had already begun to clean him off, but her tears were a constant thing.

Tim pulled Allie into his arms, holding her back against his front as they watched Betina work on Rafe, now blessedly unconscious. His fur was burned away in places, matted with blood in others, and a huge gash wound down his belly, bleeding freely.

“A warlock named Patrick Vabian.”

Betina worked briskly, examining Rafe carefully before proceeding.

“This was made with a silver blade.”

Tim’s arms tightened around Allie reflexively.

“Will he live?” Tim asked.

“It’ll be a close thing.” Betina’s old eyes sought his and fear for his twin escalated. “Allesandra, my dear, come to me.”

Betina’s hand reached out and Tim reluctantly let her go. Allie’s tears still tracked down her face, but her breathing eased a bit as Betina gave her something to focus on other than her sorrow. Tim knew Allie was scared. Hell, he was scared too, but Betty was the High Priestess. If anyone could save his twin, she could.

Allie felt fear like she’d never known. Rafe, so brave, so strong, so loving, lay dying. She could actually feel his life slipping away. She turned tearful eyes to Betina as the older woman took her hand.

“We have to save him.”

“I know, dear.” Betina patted her hand and led her to stand on one side of the bed while she moved to stand across from her on Rafe’s other side. “Tim, stand at the foot of the bed to ground him here in this realm with you.”

Betina took one of Rafe’s big front paws in her hand and motioned Allie to do the same on the other side, then she reached out to complete the circle, clasping Allie’s free hand in hers. Allie felt the jolt of connection as the circle was closed and the energy pulsed slowly between all three of them.

Betina began to chant softly. Allie followed her in the words she had learned so recently. A hauntingly beautiful song, Allie knew it was designed to call upon the magic of the earth and the forest as well as that of the spirit realms. She felt the power build slowly, felt the increase in the pulsations between her and Betina—and Rafe.

The power built and built and Allie watched in awe as a subtle glow of sparkling golden energy surrounded Betina, revealing her inner nature to Allie’s newly trained second sight. She saw the faint outline of gossamer wings folded serenely at the woman’s side.

Betina was fey!

Betina’s wise eyes moved to Allie’s and she nodded once, acknowledging her student’s discovery with a gentle smile. Allie felt the renewed surge of the energies Betina and she called, then marveled as the older woman shaped them and redirected them away from the two women and into Rafe. Allie felt herself opening like a conduit, her spirit guiding the healing energies to her mate with all the love and care in her being.

She looked down at Rafe, seeing with new eyes the angry red of the slash across his abdomen. It oozed black energy, sapping his strength, spreading like a stain over his soul. It looked like evil, if such a thing had form, and it broke her heart to see her lover so gravely wounded.

The golden glow increased, sparks of dazzling energy pinging off the three of them, but when they reached out toward Tim, standing tall and silent at the foot of the bed, they were redirected back to the trio. Tim was grounding them, containing their energy by his steadfast presence, Allie realized. He was their link to the mortal realm and their protector.

He stood over all of them while they tarried in magics not of this realm, containing and protecting with his strength of spirit, his honorable soul and his boundless love for both his brother and his mate.

Betina wound down the chant, pulling back from the tenuous connections with the spirit realms. Allie felt drained, but good about what they had done. Rafe had more color and the angry red of the slashing wound was starting to subside. The black stain was gone, banished by the sparkling golden energy that surrounded him still.

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, his long tongue licking out around canine teeth. Allie collapsed to her knees at the side of his bed, her hands stroking over his soft fur.

“Oh, Rafe!”

She felt the shift in energies as Rafe changed to his human form and knew he wouldn’t have had the power to do it without Betina’s infusion

of otherworldly energy. Rafe was bloody, bruised, but no longer in mortal peril. His tanned skin was pale, his eyes sunken, but his smile was genuine, if weak.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” His hand stroked softly over her cheek.

Tim snapped a blanket over his brother, tucking it around his feet and up to his waist.

“Glad to see you awake, brother.”

Tim’s voice was gruff, his eyes suspiciously moist as he came up behind Allie and knelt, folding her in his arms as he reached around to grasp his brother’s hand. Allie turned her face up to his and kissed one stubbly cheek. Tim was such a tough guy, but inside, he was a deep and caring man. He was closer to his twin than anyone on earth and she loved them both dearly.

She turned back and leaned down to kiss Rafe as well.

“How do you feel?”