Page 2 of Toward Immortal Ruin

“You can’t do that!”

“Why can’t I, Key?” Nero shook his head. “There are sixteen delegates who have a seat on the Accords. Jeremiah is already going. They don’t need me.”

“Remmusaskedfor you,” she reiterated. “They do need you.”

Nero resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Across the desk from him, Key’s eyes shifted from lightning-streaked amber to pure white. It was a sign that she was expending a phenomenal amount of power.

“Go to Chicago, Nero.”

The blatant command made his panther hiss in aggravation. “Someone else can go tend to the situation. I’m sitting here on my last leg, surrounded by housing plans and requests for arbitration, trying to vet applications to enter our clan, and attempting to keep up with Remmus’ ever-evolving list of theCitizens’next targets—all while trying to make sure everyone in the clan is emotionally stable. Going to Chicago half-cocked and putting everyone in danger is not on my To Do list.”

The foreseer didn’t back down. “You need to go.Now!”

There was something about the way she said it that set him back on his heels. Key was the most powerful foreseer in recorded history—and that was saying something for immortal beings. When she mandated something, there was certainly a reason behind it, even though she didn’t always share them.

Eleven centuries ago, Key had foretold Nero’s fated mate. She’d telepathically shared images and scenes with him of their time together as a couple, and he’d been living on that promise ever since. And that’s what it had remained so far: a dream. He’d spent his entire life waiting for a woman he’d never met.

In the past year, Key’s prophecies had begun to stretch his trust in her. Recently, she’d put his clansmen in danger by intentionally misrepresenting her visions. It was nearly enough to drive Nero insane.

“I can’t keep overextending myself, Key,” he admitted quietly. “I’m already stretched thin, and I can’t keep doing this.”

His meaning extended far beyond today’s latest threat. Nero couldn’t keep hoping for a mate that might never materialize. He was tired of waiting. After eleven hundred years of living on a wish and a whim, he’d finally written her off. Despite this, he’d never tell Key he’d given up on his fated mate.

“Sovereign, please,” she urged, “please—justdo this one thing for me. I know it’s been difficult, and I know your tolerance of me has been worn down to threads. I know you’re exhausted and pulled in a thousand different ways and that you’re tired of waiting forher, but please, just trust me one last time. Go to Chicago. I beg you.”

A shiver skated over Nero’s skin. Closing his eyes, the exhaustion beating at him pitched, but he forced it down as he stood. “Fine. I’ll trust you. One last time.”

Her lightning-streaked amber eyes laser-focused. “Be careful. Don’t hesitate. Go down the alley.”

On the heels of her words, she vanished.

While he’d weathered more than enough of her cryptic statements, this one left him confused and off-balance. Regardless, he didn’t waste time. In seconds, he’d manifested his fighting leathers and summoned his preferred weapon for fighting rabid werewolves: a battle axe.

Previously, theCitizenshad intentionally infected them with a non-lethal dose of liquid sunlight which coursed through their veins and turned them rabid. Once the poison took hold, the werewolves lost themselves to their inner beasts, unable toreturn to sanity. It was a monumental loss—one that affected Aidan, the werewolf alpha, the most deeply.

The moment Nero teleported to Remmus’ coordinates, he turned into the deadly warrior he was trained to be. Kane, Remmus, Aidan, Riaz, and Zeke were already on the scene, each bearing weapons powerful enough to handle their prey tonight. The only ones who wouldn’t be fighting were Jeremiah and Remmus: they were both needed to cover the ensuing slaughter and keep it from reaching news sources.

They couldn’t ambush the truck before it opened. The last time they’d attempted it, theCitizenshad pumped the air full of silver nitrate and airborne sunlight particles. It’d nearly taken Kane’s life. Since then, the human organization had begun to equip their vehicles with even more technology aimed at taking the lives of the immortals that hunted them.

“Jeremiah, the truck over there—” Zeke pointed to a box truck only a hundred feet away, “—is part of the release. Can you cover the scene?”

The Elemental nodded, going silent.

“I’ve already got all technology malfunctioning within a two-block radius,” Remmus whispered. “I can’t go any larger than that.”

Beside him, Jeremiah straightened. “We’re covered.”

“Stay outta trouble, Elemental,” Nero warned. “The invisibility is vital to keeping this a secret.”

Just as Jeremiah was about to respond, the box truck opened. Rusty metal creaked open in the dark confines of the truck, and the snarls of rabid werewolves filled the silence thereafter. The first leapt out of the truck, followed quickly by a second, then a third.

Every protective instinct within Nero screamed into focus. Charging toward the infected animals, his battle axe slashed through the air before the first even knew he was beside it.

Werewolves kept spilling out of the box truck, but before long, the vehicle was speeding off down the street. Too busy keeping the wolves from scattering, no one of the deployment team went after it.

There were more than fifteen this time—and against the five of them, they were outnumbered. Blood splattered across Nero’s face as another werewolf met its demise. His axe, glistening crimson, sung as it slashed through the air. The exhaustion he had beaten back earlier crept back in, flagging his strength.

It was only when he heard a stifled cry that he remembered what Key had said:Be careful. Don’t hesitate. Go down the alley.

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