Clearly, Garret had given her some magic orgasm that made everything in a five-foot radius go crazy. Including Garret himself because that man had definitely thought he was talking to Torunn for a moment. “I thought you said I didn’t have any competition,” she muttered.
He felt bad, she knew he did, since he’d immediately switched back to English and apologized, but she’d been mortified, confused, and burned by the dang necklace so she had bolted for the bathroom to escape the hurricane of emotions until she could settle on one. Anger, confusion, relief, happiness, more confusion, wanting to murder Torunn’s ghost, realizing that was silly, possessiveness, extreme euphoria from mind-blowing diddles, and finally hurt that he’d ended their coupling on such a disappointing note.
Nothing would get solved if she hid in the bathroom all night, though, so she flipped off the light and made her way into his bedroom, which was dark as a damn starless sky and only irritated her more.
“Garret?”
No answer came, but she could feel something there. Something terrifying. Something that froze her in place and sat heavy on her shoulders. The air was thicker, like creeping fog, and her breath came in tiny, mortified pants.
For bravery, she clutched tight to the talisman. Forcing her legs to move, she crept along the wall with her eyes squeezed closed, her hand outstretched in search of the light switch. Her body was covered in gooseflesh, and her heart pounded hard. She could just imagine something monstrous standing right in front of her, coming for her, reaching out it’s claws for her neck.
When her fingers brushed the cold plastic of the light switch, she yelped and turned it on in a rush. She was alone in the room, but the air still felt heavy. She scanned every corner, every shadow, but it had all been a figment of her imagination, likely caused by the trauma of Asmund ripping up her neck less than a week ago.
She huffed an explosive sigh of relief and forced her body to relax. She needed to get a grip and find Garret. Even if she was a little miffed at him for talking to her in another, albeit sexy, language as if she was someone else, one hug from him would make her feel all safe and warm and happy again. And no, she didn’t care what that said about her.
When she threw open the bedroom door, she was startled by Sadey sprinting by. The king’s mate skidded to a stop, her blue eyes wide and scared, her light hair whipping around her shoulders with her movement. “Shit! Dawn, you’re still here?”
“What’s wrong?”
“No time, we have to hurry. I’ll give you a ride.”
“A ride where?” Dawn asked as she followed Sadey up the stairs. The lights were flickering badly.
“We have to get out of here. The coven house has been compromised. The meeting has been called off, and the boys are out hunting Asmund. Aric just called me and told me to get out of the coven house and go somewhere safe. Somewhere Asmund can’t get in without an invite.”
In horror, Dawn whispered, “Oh my gosh. Garret left, too?”
“Yeah, they are going hard after Asmund tonight!”
“But…” Dawn’s mind was racing in circles. “Why are we leaving the coven house? He can’t get in here.”
“Dawn,” Sadey said, casting her a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder, “he already has.”
Crap! Dawn looked back down the hallway with the flickering lights. “Sadey, I have to go back and get my purse. It has a stake in it. I promised Garret I would keep it with me.”
“Girl, you’re gonna have to break that promise tonight. There’s no time. I have to keep you safe.”
Dawn didn’t have her heels or her purse. She had no weapons but the fiery necklace that was bouncing painfully off the burn on her chest with every frantic step she took. Sadey waited for her to catch up in the sprawling entryway, and Dawn threw the door open. Sadey always parked right in front so it wouldn’t be a long run to reach safety.
When she turned to make sure Sadey was following, her friend wasn’t there anymore. All that remained was a plume of thick, black smoke. What the hell? The sharp pang of an oncoming headache unfurled behind her eyes, and she shook her head hard, trying to figure out what was real and what was in her mind.
Dawn stepped out onto the creaking front porch and gasped at what she saw. Sadey was kneeling by Amanda’s limp body that was strewn on the porch stairs. Amanda’s eyes were staring at Dawn vacantly, and her neck had been torn out. Sadey was crying and trying to staunch the blood flow, but even Dawn—dull-sensed, human Dawn—could tell the woman was dead. Erin lay face down and unmoving in the yard.
“Dawn!” Sadey yelled. “What the hell are you doing outside of the house?” Tears stained both of her fair cheeks, and her eyes blazed the gold of her inner snow leopard.
“You brought me out here. You said we have to drive somewhere safe, remember?”
The door slammed closed behind Dawn, and everything slowed. Sadey stood in a rush, and red dripped from her stained hands. Black fog appeared out of her peripheral vision, but Dawn was too slow, too human, to move fast enough to save herself. The squeak of bats turned deafening, and Sadey’s eyes were big as she screamed, “Nooo!”
Dawn bunched her muscles as Sadey reached for her, outstretched her arms, and clamped onto her wrists as something immoveable ripped her backward and through the porch ceiling. Wood and shingles shattered everywhere and fell to the ground below them as she and Sadey screamed and clung to each other’s arms.
The pain was blinding, but Sadey was still there as they were cast into the night sky. “Dawn, stay awake, do you hear me? Hold onto me. Tighter! Don’t let me go. Stay awake.”
Sadey looked scared, so Dawn gripped onto her tighter, wrapped her legs around Sadey’s waist as clawing hands tried to rip them apart. Dawn closed her eyes against the pain scratching at her body as she and Sadey dug their nails in and clung to each other for dear life. Don’t pass out!
After a breathless few seconds, they were cast back down to earth like fallen angels, straight for an old abandoned barn in the middle of a field. Asmund’s black smoke and bats that surrounded them thinned, and Dawn could clearly see their deaths coming. This was it. Sadey had tried to help her, had tried to save her, but she had a future with Aric. She could have babies and take care of the coven in ways Dawn never could.
“I’m sorry,” Dawn whispered against Sadey’s ear, and then she twisted so her back would hit the barn roof first.
The roof exploded inward and the bats cushioned their fall right before she and Sadey slammed onto the dirt floor. When they dropped the last few feet, the dust on the barn floor clouded around them.
It felt like cold, dead corpse hands on her skin, but Dawn couldn’t see anything. With a whimper, she bolted upright, grabbed Sadey’s hand, and dragged her until Dawn’s back hit the barn wall. Sadey yanked her hand out of Dawn’s and placed herself in front of her. She snarled a beastly noise as she knelt in front of Dawn and, together, they watched the dust, smoke, and bats collapse inward until they formed the outline of a man. No…the outline of a monster. Asmund stood there slowly clapping and wearing an empty smile. The sound of his applause echoed through the empty barn.
“Bravo. I should’ve known Geir had a trick up his sleeve, but I hadn’t expected a shifter guardian for his precious Torunn.”
“I’m not Torunn,” Dawn gritted out. Her voice shook but it was steely enough. “I’m Dawn Leanne Reed.”
“Aaah, but you see, a name is a word, and a word is nothing. It’s air. You are who you are so call yourself what you like. I’ve waited a long time for you, Torunn.” The hissed word bounced around her head, echoing and repeating until she grabbed her ears in desperation.
Lanterns hung from nails on the walls, but in the darkest corner flickered movement. Just the outline of a person before it disappeared again. Asmund cast a narrow-eyed glance back at the corner, but he had missed that flicker of life.
“Sons,” he snarled.
In through the door walked three men, all pale-skinned and dark-eyed. All simi
lar height and build, all dark-headed, all fanged. And all of them, every single one, resembled Garret.
The smattering of breaking bones echoed through the barn, and Sadey roared through her Change. Snarling, she struggled from her clothes, shredding them on the way out. Dawn had never seen her snow leopard, and for a moment, she was awed. Sadey had cream-colored fur with perfect dark spots, and a tail that was long and thickly furred. It was twitching with fury, and her ears were laid flat as she hissed and paced in front of Dawn.
Asmund’s sons flanked him.
“Out-numbered, out-manned, out-gunned, and out-skilled, I’m afraid,” Asmund said in that strange accent of his.
“Let Sadey go,” Dawn negotiated. “She had nothing to do with this. It’s me you want.”
“Wrong!” Asmund yelled, the power of his voice booming through the cavernous room. “I don’t give a shit about you, you self-righteous little human. I want Geir. I want him to see how badly he has failed me. Look around me, Torunn.”
Something flickered in the corner again—the outline of a woman. The outline of Dawn. No…the outline of Torunn. She wore furs and a cloak, and her hair was braided with feathers down to her waist. Her eyes were full of fury and aimed at Asmund’s back. He was conjuring Torunn’s ghost every time he uttered her name.
Terror seized Dawn as Asmund and his sons approached slowly.
“Garret!” she screamed.
“Garret,” one of his sons repeated in a high-pitched, whiny voice.
“Garret, Garret,” the others chanted, taunting her.
“Garret can hear you fine,” Asmund murmured through a wicked smile. “His entire coven can. You made sure of that little kitty, didn’t you?” He hissed at Sadey and clawed up his fingers. “You called out to your mate. To your king. The mind control in that one. The power. He’s the first I’ve found who is like me, but he is still no match. He’s young, and I’ve had a millennia to learn to control my powers. I must admit, though, you almost broke my hold over him. He is very powerful for his age, and perhaps in time, he would be able to block me out like Geir used to. I would respect the King of the Winterset Coven if I didn’t hate him for fighting me. Even now I can feel him and Garret fighting me. Your men are on their knees in the woods, watching through my eyes the terror in yours. It’s beautifully orchestrated, no? Geir will watch me Turn you as I Turned Torunn, and then he will watch me slowly drive a stake through your heart. I killed Torunn too quietly. I made that mistake only once. No one heard her screams. No one saw the blood. No one watched her rise from the dead the monster Geir so despised. No one watched me slide the stake through her ribcage or witnessed the tears streaming out of her eyes as she murmured his name one last time. I was alone in my victory, but not with you. This time I’ll do it right. I’ll let Geir watch before I give him the final death he’s always wished so hard for.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, pressing her back harder against the wall.
“Because he betrayed me! He was my first son. He was supposed to be by my side for eternity. He was supposed to banish the loneliness, and what did he do? He pined for sunlight and goodness like a weakling, and I knew I had failed with him. I gave him everything. I gifted him eternal youth, eternal power. I gifted him the darkness, and he turned his back on me!”
Stall! “So you Turned them to replace him?” Dawn asked, gesturing to his sons.
Sadey was close to her legs, pressing her against the wall, but crouching as though she was going to attack. Hold on!
Asmund let off a single laugh, and his platinum blond brows raised in surprise. He laughed louder and harder and then looked at his sons as if they were nothing. “There is no replacing Geir, Torunn. You stole his heart away from me. It was fate that you would be re-born so I could torture you again, as you have tortured me all this time. He was mine! I built a coven to help me hunt you, nothing more. They are a means to an end. They are not Geir.”
His sons didn’t even react, as if he’d given them this lesson before. As if he’d explained in the beginning they were nothing to him. Or perhaps he was controlling their minds, too, like he was controlling the Winterset Coven in the woods somewhere.
Torunn was here now, translucent, but as real as Dawn and Sadey, and she was pointing to Dawn’s chest. No, to her necklace.
The necklace. The burn. As her terrified glance bounced from Sadey’s massive form to the necklace, she recognized the cat. She’d thought the spots on it were nothing more than imperfections, but they were intentional. It was a snow leopard. You’ll know what to do with it when the time comes.
Garret’s story of the wolves cracked through her head like lightning. So vivid in her mind was the vision of him lying on the ground, bleeding from the bites of the wolves, begging Asmund to kill him before he Changed. The wolf and the vampire had battled for his body. She needed weapons. That’s what Torunn was saying. She needed claws and teeth and a way to stay alive until Garret and the coven could get to them.
Asmund approached, his steps deliberate, and as he leapt up and disappeared into a plume of black smog, Dawn grabbed Sadey by the scruff of the neck and jammed her arm in front of the cat’s face. “Give her to me.”
Sadey froze, her pupils constricting. There was a moment of hesitation as her delicate pink nostrils flared before she sank her teeth deep into Dawn’s forearm.
“No!” Asmund bellowed with the deep voice of a demon.
Unforgiving hands ripped her backward, dragging her skin through Sadey’s long, curved canines, tearing her arm in tracks, but already she could feel it growing inside of her. She could feel power pulsing, shredding her insides. As Dawn was catapulted backward and slammed onto the ground, she could hear Sadey’s snarling as she leapt onto Asmund’s back.
Hurry, hurry, animal. I need you!
Asmund grabbed Sadey’s neck and tossed her against the wall like she weighed nothing. The wood splintered all around her, but she got up and charged again. Asmund wrapped his hand around Dawn’s throat and squeezed off her air. He lifted his other hand toward Sadey and murmured, “Stop.”
Sadey’s body froze and she hit the ground hard. She skidded through the dirt and landed a few feet away from Asmund. Her gold eyes were wide and locked in horror on Dawn, and her chest rose and fell in short bursts. Her pupils got bigger and bigger until there was no gold color left and Sadey stared vacantly. Asmund was in her mind now. Sadey was gone, and Dawn was left all alone.
Dawn was choking, scrabbling against his clawed fingers with growing strength, but Asmund was still stronger. He opened his jaws wide, exposing his razor sharp teeth.
“No, no, no,” she choked out, kicking and writhing as hard as she could. She didn’t want to be a vampire. Not like this. She had to keep him from draining her.
When tears of pain and desperation leaked out of her eyes, Asmund smiled an evil expression. “Good Torunn. Now call out his name, just like you did all those centuries ago.”
Asmund was blasted sideways as though hit by a train. He rocketed through a support beam and into a wall right where Torunn had stood. And she was there, standing over him, rage written into every ghostly facet of her pale face.
Dawn rolled over and gasped for breath, but her body wasn’t working right. Something powerful pulsed through her veins, growing with each beat of her heart until her body ripped apart. She screamed at the pain as her bones broke, as her muscles and skin and sinew ripped and reshaped. Rage fueled her. When Asmund stumbled upright, Torunn pleaded with her eyes for Dawn to get up and fight.
“Kill her!” Asmund ordered his sons, pointing his long nail at Dawn, condemning her to death. He disappeared into a haze of black fog and barreled toward her. All around her, a tornado of bats and deep purple smog filled the space, but she could see better, could hear better, could sense evil better. Her body worked differently, and she was on four legs instead of two now. She was going to fucking kill Asmund for what he’d done to Torunn, to Garret, to Sadey, and to her. The animal part
of her was fed by fury, and she gave her body to the beast. She stumbled forward a step, regained her footing, and bolted for the soft purple outline of Asmund in the middle of his cloud of bats and fog. She leapt through the air and landed on him, slashed at him with her claws as he hit the ground hard under them. She clamped down with her teeth on his face, piercing his ancient skin. It wouldn’t kill him, but she would sure as fuck make him hurt.
Cold hands landed on her back, and she was ripped backward. Twisting in the air, Dawn slapped and clawed and roared a battle cry. Her animal was fearless, which made her human side braver, too. There was no room for terror here in the dim barn, only war.
A loud screeching sound filled the air, like nails on a chalkboard, and Asmund’s sons backed off their attack, shoulders hunched at the sound. Torrun stood in the middle of the barn, fists clenched, head thrown back, screaming the awful noise. Asmund was yelling in agony, his fists over his ears as he writhed on the ground.
Sadey was able to push herself up on all fours, which meant one thing. Torunn was breaking Asmund’s mind control. Dawn bolted for him, raked her claws down his arms. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, latched on, and began dragging his struggling body toward the smashed wall where jagged edges of splintered wood were exposed. She had to figure out a way to get one through his chest, through his ribcage, through his heart.
Asmund was so strong, he jerked from her grip just as the far wall exploded inward, showering them in debris. Dawn flattened her ears and hissed. Torunn’s scream stopped abruptly. In a blur, Asmund wrapped his arms around Dawn tight enough to break her body and sank his teeth into her neck. This wasn’t to drain her, though. Her body belonged fully to the animal, and there would be no Turning her into a vampire now. This was Asmund’s desperate attempt to end her, to end Garret, but she wasn’t helpless anymore.
Dawn bit his throat and held on as Asmund grunted in pain and clutched her tighter. Her ribs were snapping, and this was it. She couldn’t escape his grip. Sadey was fighting one of the sons, and there was smoke and rubble everywhere. Torunn was gone, and Dawn was sorry. Sorry she hadn’t been able to hold on, sorry her animal couldn’t help more, sorry she was leaving Garret like Torunn had to.