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Authors: Kelly Meade

White Knight (23 page)

BOOK: White Knight
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“I’m not asking for any concessions.”

“Any what?”

Atwood grunted. “Any changes to our terms. What I want is your word, and your sister’s word. Here and now, to my face.”

Allison and Desiree exchanged a look that communicated their shared crazy. “We give you our word,” Allison said. “We promise to leave the other Magi alone.”

“And the other one.”

Desiree made an epic eye-roll. “I promise, too.”

This is happening. They’re going to kill us. Or make us want them to.

She had already been tortured through starvation. She couldn’t go through that again. She would rather have her throat slit and be done with it.

Desiree sauntered forward, her small hands growing, the thin nails extending into deadly claws. Shay’s gut tightened. “You betrayed me, sister,” Desiree said. “You’re mine.”

Those sharp claws dashed across Shay’s cheek, scoring the flesh. The white-hot pain took a moment to register. Warm blood dripped down her neck. Shay couldn’t move to defend herself. All she could do was exist in the pain.

“How do we control them as you do?” Allison asked.

“You cannot,” Atwood said. “You aren’t Magi, child. They are controlled by me, and by me alone.”

“We only have one collar left.”

“Then I suppose you have a choice to make.”

“You’re making this very difficult for us, Magus.”

“The ease of your escape with your charges was not part of our deal.”

“We’ll just have to drain and carry one,” Desiree said. “They’ve both conspired against us. They deserve to suffer before they die.”

“Die?” Leopold went rigid, his hand falling away. He moved to stand in front of Shay, shorter and thinner, but drawn up to his full height. A protector in his own right, especially when family was threatened. “I don’t want Shay to die.”

“The baby died because of her,” Allison said.

How on earth—Atwood. He tattled.

“No, the baby was sick before we left with Shay. Shay promised to take her to a doctor. They tried to help.”

“But they didn’t, did they?”

“They tried. Please, Ally, don’t kill Shay.”

Desiree harrumphed, but didn’t reply verbally. She scraped her claws down the side of Shay’s neck, drawing blood, and making her stomach roil with the pain. Not enough blood to have hit an artery, but the collar of her shirt was sticky in moments.

Atwood had circled to stand just behind Brynn, who was less than five feet from Shay’s position. Shay could see him from the corner of her eye. He stood straight, shoulders back, hands out to his sides. Something in the air changed. It snapped, like she was standing too close to raging fire and the wood was crackling in the inferno.

He was a fire elemental.

He could kill all five of them in seconds.

Knight, I love you.

“Shay, Brynn,
yoo ri les
,” Atwood said.

Fire blazed through her chest, the heat coming from somewhere deep inside. Drawing up out of her arms and legs, down from her head, all coalescing behind her breast bone. The sensation of being burned alive and cooled down at the same time. And then it was over, the pendant hot against her skin.

Shay stumbled.

Atwood screamed.

***

Knight ran faster and harder than he’d ever run in his life, finding speed and power in his beast form. Branches and twigs caught in his coat and scratched his muzzle, and he didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching his mate before it was too late. He could still sense her confusion and fear, distant or close, and both screamed at him to hurry.

The moment they’d seen the abandoned truck by the side of the road, Bishop had told him, Jonas, and Jillian to shift. As much as Knight wanted his voice, he was physically stronger in beast form and he hadn’t argued. Bishop and Rook had armed themselves with guns and Tasers to go in as skin, and they were barely keeping up.

Jillian was tearing through the woods nearby, a silent predator intent on her destination. She’d been to the location before, so he trusted her to lead him while he used his nose to stay on track. He smelled all of them: Shay, Brynn, Leopold, Atwood, the hybrids. And another scent he’d noticed the day they rescued Shay.

The boy from Rockpoint. Paul Melina.

The shadow lurking in the background of Brynn’s vision of the hybrids.

A man cried out in agony and surprise—Atwood. Knight pulled out another burst of energy and raced around a cluster of brambles. Leapt over a fallen tree. He slowed once he hit the clearing, struck at once by the scent of burned things and the fresh tang of blood.

Atwood was on the ground with a tailless Gray beast on him, clawing at his chest and throat, snapping at his face. Powerful jaws clamped down on Atwood’s arm, and the Magus shrieked. Jillian barreled into Paul and knocked him for a spin that took a chunk of Atwood’s flesh with him.

Shay stood nearby, swaying like she wasn’t entirely sure of herself or her footing.

She’s bleeding.

Pure rage drove Knight forward. He ran headfirst into Desiree, smashing the little girl into the earth. The impact jarred his neck, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t pause. Desiree had Shay’s blood on her hand—literally—and he wanted hers.

Despite the stories he’d heard, Desiree was faster and stronger than he anticipated. She tossed him off and was out of range before he managed to get back on his feet. Jonas was tussling with the other one. Allison.

Desiree darted in and raked her claws across Knight’s flank. He ignored the pain and the blood. Nothing mattered except killing his enemy. Protecting his family. She tried again. He snapped at her, nearly catching a hand with his sharp teeth.

“Brynn!” Rook.

The rest of their backup had arrived.

Jonas squealed. Before Knight could assess, a slight weight latched on to his back. Sharp teeth sank into the side of his neck, biting down through the thick fur into flesh. He yelped and shook, trying to dislodge what could only be Allison.

“Get off him!” Shay yelled.

More weight on his back, and then it was all gone. Shay rolled away with her arms around Allison’s middle, fiercely defending him when she should be staying out of it. She couldn’t fight the hybrids in skin, not without damage. He didn’t want her damaged any further.

“Brynn, get Leopold out of here,” Bishop shouted.

Snarling and growling filled the clearing, as did the thickening odor of blood. Knight lunged toward Shay, the perfect opportunity to snag Allison by the neck and snap it.

“Knight, freeze!”

He did as Bishop ordered, slamming to a stop in the black dirt. A gunshot rang out. Desiree screamed. Knight looked behind him. Desiree had been coming up from the side, and Knight would have blocked the shot if he’d kept going. She wasn’t dead. She’d barely slowed down, but Knight saw the blood oozing from the wound in her side.

Jonas had leapt in to help Shay, who was crawling toward the protection of a fallen log, blood streaming from her face and chest. Knight wanted to go to her, to protect her from their enemies while she bound her wounds.

Rook grabbed her by the waist and hauled her deeper into the woods, away from the fray.

The sounds of two beasts battling to the death drew Knight’s attention to Jillian and Paul. For a Gray Wolf, the crippled beast was putting up a hell of a fight with the Alpha female. Paul was bleeding from more places than Knight could count, but he wouldn’t give in or give Jillian that killing shot.

Bishop hollered. Knight sped toward him, incensed to find Desiree crouched over him, her clawed hands around his neck. Knight leapt at her sideways, managing to sink his teeth firmly into her throat. She squealed, and he locked his jaw. Putrid blood spurted into his mouth, and he swallowed so he didn’t choke on it. He snapped his head back and forth, teeth tearing deeper into her neck, crushing bone and cartilage, until he finally ripped her away from Bishop.

Desiree clawed weakly at his front legs and far flank, unable to get much purchase in her position. He ignored his new wounds, uncaring about anything except draining her life away. He hated the hybrids with the depths of his soul, and yet a chill spread through him at the idea of taking another life.

He’d killed Fiona because she had given him no choice. Kill or be killed. This was the same thing, but he didn’t want to kill again. Not really. It went against his very nature as a White Wolf. Desiree was part vampire, but she was also part loup. He wanted her dead. He didn’t want her death on his hands.

So he didn’t snap her neck, even though he had the opportunity. He held on until she stilled, the fight drained out of her with copious amounts of her blood. It dampened the ground and smeared his coat.

Jonas squealed again. Jillian snarled. Knight held tight.

Two more gunshots quieted the clearing, leaving only the sounds of panting for a long, drawn-out moment. Footsteps. Branches snapped. Knight was facing away from the battle site. He had no idea what was happening.

Not until Shay crouched in front of him, her skin and shirt stained red. Her hair was a tangled, matted mess, and dirt and ash smeared her all over. She had never looked more alive, more determined—hell, more beautiful—than in that moment. He met her gaze and saw perfect understanding in her eyes.

“You don’t have to,” she said. “Let her go.”

He did, glad to be free of her horrible taste. She dropped to the ground with a thud, her dark eyes blinking, blood gurgling past her lips. If they left her, she would likely die within the hour—not that they’d take that chance.

“Say hi to your sisters for me,” Shay said with cold detachment. She grasped both sides of Desiree’s head and cleanly snapped her spine. Desiree went limp. Her head thumped on the ground, then listed to the side. Dead.

“Father!”

Knight looked over his shoulder. Across the clearing, Rook stood over Atwood, peering down at what was left of the man. Brynn stumbled to her knees on Atwood’s other side and pulled his head into her lap. Her grief rippled over his senses, speaking to his Wolf. He didn’t have to go to her, though. Rook came around and wrapped his arms around his grieving mate, and he held on while she sobbed for a man who’d never deserved her love.

Allison’s body lay still in the dirt, littered with cuts and lacerations, her face shattered by gunshots. Jonas was on his side, panting, with Jillian standing over him. She licked at his face, tending to some wound there that—hell.

No.

Knight licked Shay’s cheek, tamping down his regret at leaving her side, and then bolted over. Jonas growled once before scent told him who’d come nearer. A series of thick cuts scored the flesh across both of his eyes. He whined, clearly pained by Jillian’s attention. She backed off. He put his head down on his paws and exhaled hard.

He’d been blinded.

Shay wrapped her arms around him from behind, her cheek pressing against his shoulder. Knight inhaled her scent, furious she’d been hurt, and ever so grateful that she was alive. Bishop stood nearby, one hand pressing against the wounds on his neck, already speaking to someone on his cell. Leopold lurked in the background, trembling and uncertain.

Their enemies were finally dead, but Knight wasn’t naïve enough to assume that the war was completely won.

They still had unfinished business with the Congress of Magi.

Chapter Twenty-three

Shay collapsed to the hardwood floor, the last remnants of magic from her shift back to skin wearing off and leaving her boneless. A blanket descended from above to cover her. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, allowing the memory of the agonizing shift to dim and fade. Shifting to heal wounds was never fun, and she’d had her share. None of them mortal, but all of them incredibly painful.

Knight’s damp-leaves scent filled her senses. She’d chosen to shift in his exam room at Dr. Mike’s, not wanting to leave his side for a moment. Because he had been wounded in beast form, the wounds carried over to skin, leaving his beautiful body covered in deep lacerations. His hip, both legs, shoulder, chest, and both arms carried wounds from his fight with the hybrids, and the bandaging made it difficult to move. So Dr. Mike had installed him in a downstairs exam room until he had the strength to go home.

“Shay?” Devlin helped her sit up and kept the blanket securely around her naked body. He was the only one Knight had allowed to be in the room with them during her shift. She found Knight’s possessiveness adorable.

She shook her head and stretched her neck. The skin was still tight, not quite completely healed, and she would likely carry more scars. But she was alive. So far, they were all alive. Even Daria Smythe. “Thank you, Dev. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Knight asked from the exam bed. He’d propped up on one elbow to look at her, his face damp with perspiration, eyes alive with pain.

“Yes, I’m sure. Lie down before you hurt yourself.”

He grinned, then did as she ordered.

“You two okay now?” Devlin asked.

“Yes, we’re fine,” Shay replied. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Shay snagged the clean dress and panties that had been left for her. She was ravenous, all the fuel of that morning’s heavy breakfast burned off by the fight in the clearing. They’d fought for their lives and they’d won. She still couldn’t believe the hybrids were finally dead.

“How do you feel?” She stood by Knight’s bed and brushed her knuckles against his cheek.

He leaned into the touch. “Will you believe me if I said I feel fine?”

“No.”

“I hurt like hell, but it’s worth it, love. We stopped them.”

“Yes we did.”

But at what cost? Jonas Geary had been blinded. No amount of shifting would repair the damage done to his eyes. The rest of them had non-life-threatening wounds that would heal in time. The worst of the damage had been done by Shay, while being controlled by Atwood. Mrs. Troost was holding her own, the knife having come very, very close to piercing her right lung. She was critical, but Dr. Mike was hopeful for her chances. A.J. was recovering from the chair that Brynn had whacked him upside the head with—the man had a thick skull.

Jeremiah, though . . . shame and grief socked her in the chest. Shay had stabbed Jeremiah in the neck multiple times with that shard of broken pottery. She’d hit his carotid artery. Dr. Mike had managed to repair the damage before he bled out, but the trauma and rapid blood loss had left the enforcer in a coma.

Dr. Mike was not optimistic.

“Hey, stop that.” Knight snagged her hand and squeezed, a small amount of peace washing over her. “Stop blaming yourself.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You were being controlled by magic, Shay.”

“I willingly took that necklace from Atwood. I fell for his lies.”

“We all did. Bishop didn’t want him here but he took a chance on Atwood’s sincerity. If Jeremiah dies, it’s not on you. It’s on Atwood.”

Shay sat on the edge of the bed. She wanted to sleep for a week but not until Knight was in bed with her. At home. “Do you think if Paul Melina hadn’t been there, that Atwood would have killed all of us? Or just the hybrids?”

“There’s no way to know. Not for sure.”

“And we’ll never be able to ask him.”

Atwood’s body was on ice downstairs in the morgue, along with Allison and Desiree. All of the sisters were together again in death. Paul had been buried at the scene and Mason’s team sent back to destroy all evidence of the battle.

A knock at the door preceded Bishop’s entrance. Thick white bandages circled his neck like a trauma collar. He’d refused to take the necessary time to shift and heal his own wounds—Shay had overheard part of the shouted argument he’d had with Dr. Mike—because he had too many other fires to put out. He looked exhausted, but also aware and in charge. Every inch the Alpha that he was.

“I thought you’d both be curious to know,” Bishop said, “I spoke with the other Alphas about today. Weatherly and Corman are setting up a private meeting with another Prime Magus from the Congress to discuss Atwood’s actions against the loup garou.”

“Is that a good thing?” Knight asked.

“I hope so. Apparently Prime Magus Darvish has condemned Atwood’s research from the start, and he is willing to work with us to reach an agreement of peace.”

“Do you believe that’s true?”

“I honestly don’t know. With what Brynn told us about the way we were manipulated into nearly eradicating the vampires, I don’t know what to believe. But I want to think Darvish is being genuine, and that maybe our species can live in mutual dislike without further bloodshed.”

“We’ve lost hundreds, and yet the Magi think they can simply say they’re sorry, let’s be friends?” Shay asked. She hated how easy this was on the Magi, when the loup garou had lost so much.

“Something like that.” Bishop met both of their gazes, before settling on Knight. “Look, I don’t want either of you worrying about any of that right now. Rest and get better.”

Shay bristled. “I’m fine.”

“Then help your mate get better.”

She wanted to do more to help, but she wasn’t the Alpha female. She wasn’t even an enforcer. Right now, her duty was to Knight and to seeing both of them well and whole again. As long as they had each other, she knew those things would happen.

“How’s Brynn?” Knight asked.

Bishop shook his head. “Understandably shaken and upset. Rook’s with her.”

“If she needs me—”

“Rook can handle her until you’re back on your feet. You try to get up before Dr. Mike says it’s okay, and I’ll make him strap you to that bed.”

Shay glanced at Knight, startled by Bishop’s careless words about tying him down. Only Knight didn’t seem bothered by the threat. He actually rolled his eyes at Bishop. “I dare you,” he said.

Bishop snickered. “Test me, little brother.”

“He won’t,” Shay said, patting his arm where there was no bandage. “I’ll make sure he stays in bed.”

“Hey, what about Alpha Behr?” Knight asked. “You were supposed to make that call today.”

“I’ve been a little distracted,” Bishop said. “But I have a feeling that after he hears about everything that’s happened, he isn’t going to put up the expected fuss over your refusal to go to Iowa.”

“Good.” Shay meant it more strongly than the four small letters could hope to communicate. Cornerstone was her home now, and so was Knight. And she’d battle anyone who tried to take them away from their home and their family.

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything new on Jeremiah.”

Her heart tripped. “I appreciate that, Alpha.”

More than almost anything, she needed Jeremiah and Mrs. Troost to be out of the woods and on the road to recovery. She couldn’t stand it if a friend died at her hands—magically controlled or otherwise.

Bishop left them alone. Knight shifted to one side of the bed so that Shay could stretch out next to him, savoring each warm place where their bodies touched. She rested her head on the pillow next to his. His breath gusted across her mouth. She longed to kiss him, to claim him again, but they were both too exhausted.

I’ll have you again soon, my love.

Knight brushed his fingers across her cheek, gazing at her in wonder, as though seeing her for the first time. “Shay, may I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you marry me?”

Her heart thrilled at the question, and her beast gave a supportive yip. She had never wanted anything more in her life than to be this man’s wife. “Of course I will.”

His smile was breathtaking. Shay hated losing sight of it, but she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him. A gentle promise of a kiss that filled her with his taste and scent—two things she would never tire of. Not in this lifetime or the next.

“I love you so much,” Shay said.

Knight kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, too. Forever.”

BOOK: White Knight
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