Page 62 of Blood and Hexes

The Queen’s Spell

Chloe had never questioned Eirikr, and since the very beginning, he’d never led her astray. For all that, each step propelling her further and further from her mate, her friends, her family, felt wrong. But if he was right, if his daughter was on the hill, she could end this, once and for all.

There was no wondering why he hadn’t gone himself. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to kill Aveka. Nor should he have to. That was Chloe’s job.

“Bill!”

The troll was lying on the ground, immobile. Several arrows poked out of his chest, and thick green blood trailed down the open wounds.

Chloe didn’t have time to stop, not for anyone. She did anyway. She moved to the gentle giant, who’d been so very kind and welcoming to her, tears in her eyes. Her fingers brushed his wrinkled forehead.

She sighed, relief flooding through her like a drug. She could feel a breath, shallow and slow. He wasn’t dead, just drugged and out for the count, by the looks of it.

Like a flash, she was gone, rushing uphill. On her flight, she noticed figures standing around almost each of the houses—the Stormhales’, the Helsings’, Levi’s. Eirikr had been spot on again: they were up to something. She would have liked to drag Bill to safety first, but every moment she dwelled was a moment during which her friends could die.

As she reached the open gates of Skyhall, her race slowed to a stop.

In the marble entry hall, between both of the grand staircases, Aveka stood.

And she wasn’t alone.

Diana tooka punch to the nose with a wince, to grab the dickhead’s arm and rip it off. She was beyond niceties, beyond civilization. Covered in blood, sweat, grime, and by the smell of it, piss, she’d given control over to her beast. The beast each vampire, each supernatural creature, had buried deep inside them. A creature made of simple wants and needs. Survival. Food.

And him.

Her beast was aware of each of her friends, seeing them as part of her clan. That awareness extended into a protective streak. She’d help them if she could; her own safety was a priority. Not the first priority, though.

No, that was Mikar. Not her brother, not her friends. Him. Her beast was entirely consumed by a simple need: Mikar’s safety. Because if he was gone, then she would be too.

Oh, hell.

She’d deal with the implications later. She had bodies to dismember.

A kick at the back of her head made her vision blur, and her fangs bite through her lower lips, piercing them. For a split second, she lost balance, lost control. A loss that meant death, during a battle. Feeling a threat close in on her, ready to claim her life, she closed her eyes.

Maybe there wouldn’t be a later.

A howl rang in the distance, followed by a deep, low growl. She felt a motion above her as she fell forward.

Rolling onto her back, Diana saw a blur of fur and fangs rush above her, colliding with the approaching redheaded vampire and taking her down. The wolf’s massive mouth closed in around the redhead’s throat and ripped it out. She knew Avani and Alexius in their wolf forms. The large black beast with yellow eyes was neither of them.

As she got to her feet, dozens of wolves rushed from the woods into the open plain, joining the fight.

She breathed out.

This unexpected help was far from evening the numbers out, but they were just as fast and as ruthless as any of their people. The outsiders could only enter through a small gap at the border; the rest of the territory’s fire had extended for miles, engulfing most of Oldcrest. Which was a problem for another time. The wolves divided their attention. Diana was stunned as her analytic mind took over.

They had a chance. They could truly hope to win—or at least, survive until dawn. The shadows were growing shorter, the light of the moon decreasing over the lake.

They just had to survive a little longer.

She resumed her position at Mikar’s back.

They had this.

Chloe wanted to scream.She wanted to kneel over and beg. She wanted to lunge at the monster standing in her home, but she did none of that.

Aveka stool, lovely as always, surrounded by four vampires. She only knew one: treacherous Anika Beaufort, beautiful as always, in fighting gear. Two, a man and a woman, felt like ancients, but there was a boy seated at her feet, who looked like he couldn’t be much older than fifteen. While he didn’t have the presence of an old powerful vampire, he felt wilder, and his silver eyes were hollow, empty, dead.

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