Page 35 of The Alpha's Warlock
That snapped him out of it, and his eyes fluttered open. “Ian,” was the first word out of his mouth. “Ian?”
“Right here, asshole,” Ian growled.
“Thank the gods,” Matthew said, and pushed himself up on his elbows, blinking and coughing. “Is it really smoky in here? What the fuck happened? Dor’s spell worked? Where’s —”
“Kimball’s on his way back with his pack, shaman’s dead, Hawthorne’s dead,” Ian summarized briskly. That last item made me shiver a little, and Ian seemed to feel it; he pulled me closer, rubbing a hand over my back. “And we’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“I could put the fires out, but then I’d have to light another to burn the bodies,” Dor put in nonchalantly. And yes, that was a heap of shaman and former-father, piled up in the corner of the room where the flames looked to be encroaching fastest. “It seemed inefficient.”
“We can’t leave,” Matthew said. “Or at least, I can’t.”
We all stared at him. “We’re leaving with or without you,” Charlie said, “and if we leave without you, I think you’ll be torn to shreds and/or burned alive within five minutes.” Charlie shrugged. “But your call, of course.”
“I can’t.” Matthew sat up all the way and scooted back a few feet. Probably getting out of range of Charlie’s hands. “I can’t leave — Kimball has someone hostage,” he said desperately. “I can’t go without him.”
“Who?” Ian demanded. “Who the fuck is so important that you’d sell us out? And what the fuck — Matt,what the fuck?” he roared, and I winced, because seriously, that was right by my ear. I tried to pull back, but Ian was immovable. And to be fair, I didn’t try that hard. Fuck, but he felt good against me, all around me, solid and warm and safe.
Matthew hesitated. “Kimball’s son,” he said at last.
Kimball’sson? Kimball didn’t have a son. “Kimball doesn’t have a son,” Ian spat. “So whatever he’s selling and you’ve been buying, it’s a load of bullshit. And I’m going to fucking take it out of your hide, but first, we’regetting out of here.”
A chorus of howls, much closer this time, underlined his point for him.
“I’m not going without him,” Matthew said, and struggled to his feet. “He’ll get mated off to some alpha from Oregon he hates. I’mnot going—”
In the midst of facing off with Ian, Matthew didn’t notice Dor, probably the only person quiet enough to sneak up on a werewolf, flowing into place behind him. Dor’s hand came down on Matthew’s shoulder, Matthew’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into Dor’s waiting arms.
“Goddess, thank you,” Charlie said, hopping to his feet. “If I had to hear him maunder on about his poor little abused werewolf love I was going to vomit. Also, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Kind of a waste of a couple of good slaps,” I muttered.
“I wouldn’t call them wasted, since I got to slap him,” Charlie retorted. Well, I could see his point. “And anyway, I didn’t realize he was going to be such a drag when he woke up. Dor? An exit, if you please?”
Ian hauled me to my feet, and my legs buckled under me. A second later he’d swung me up into his arms and snuggled me against his chest. I let my head fall against his shoulder. Fuck it. I was okay with being a princess just this once. Dor slung Matthew over his own shoulder one-armed — and yeah, I was impressed, because Matthew had to weigh nearly two hundred pounds — and turned an invisible doorknob with his other hand.
As the flames rose behind us, belching out clouds of filthy smoke and the roasting-meat stench of burning human flesh, we all slipped through the doorway, right as the howls rose to a crescendo outside.
***
When Ian stepped through, behind Charlie and in front of Dor and Matthew, we emerged into a moonlit, pine-scented clearing. Through the trees, lights glowed in the windows of a large house.
Ian drew a deep breath, the tension seeming to flow out of him with the exhale. It was the Armitage pack house, and we were home.
There wasn’t anyone around, and it was nearly silent: no howling, shouts, alarms going off, or anything, even though the Armitage pack council had to be chewing their own claws off by now, with no word from Matthew or Ian. The only sound was the squawking and hooting of an unusually annoying owl in the cluster of pines to our left.
“Ian,” I said quietly, “this is why you need wards. The owl’s the only one who noticed a powerful sorcerer and a master vampire just materialized inside your territory carrying the unconscious pack leader like a sack of potatoes.”
“Shut up, Nate,” Ian sighed. “Seriously. Not now.” And then he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. Before I could do anything, like leap out of his arms and freak out and try to get him to let me give him a magical physical — because there was obviously something horribly wrong with him — he said, “You two can take off now. Leave Matt there. I’ll deal with him.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Thereas in, on the ground?”
“Yep.” Ian shrugged, the motion jostling me. He wasn’t making any move to putmedown on the ground. “Right there. Like a fucking stupid, betraying-everyone, thinking-with-his-dick sack of potatoes.”
“Suits me,” Dor said, and shrugged too, letting Matthew slide right off of his back to land on the ground with a thud. I grimaced at the sound. It would’ve meant a concussion and five broken ribs for a human, but Matthew probably wouldn’t even have bruises when he came around, the bastard. “We’re not leaving yet, though. Fenwick’s vampires are on their way as well.”
Shit. Because the moment Kimball figured out we were gone, he’d be mounting up for a full-on assault on the Armitage territory. We were weak — and when had I started thinking of the Armitages aswe, anyway? — and we’d participated in ruining Kimball’s plan, killing his priceless shaman and his evil warlock buddy, and burning down his barn. He’d be pissed, and he’d see this as the perfect moment to do what he’d been angling to do for years, and take the Armitage lands for good.
Ian finally set me down, with infinite gentleness, and even then he didn’t let me go completely, keeping an arm looped around my ribs to steady me. What waswithhim?
