Page 80 of Blood and Magic
“Yeah,” I replied, but it came out in a growl.
“They’re not here anymore,” Pink said. He’d tagged along because he said he could sense when the Scorpions were near, perhaps even anticipate their moves. But none of that helped us now that they were off our property.
“Guys!” Moose called from a few meters ahead, squatting over a prone body—one of our own. I recognized the scent immediately.
Holden.
“No,” Larentia said, running over to him. “No, no, no.”
Moose pulled out his phone to call Kodiak, but my world narrowed, darkening into one focus, one predatory drive. I would find the fuckers that took them. I would tear into Marx’s neck and rip his head from his body. And when I was done, I would hunt down every last Scorpion that dared touch her, that dared take one of our own.
Holden.
This was my fault. I’d asked him to go with her. I put him in danger. His blood was on my hands. Hot fiery anguish shot through my body, making my knees weak, and I bent over, dry heaving into the dirt.
“You alright, man?” Pink asked.
I sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to catch my breath, but it was no use. The pain wasn’t mine. It raced down the bond between me and Maeve, sending waves of terror and pain barreling at my molecules.
“She’s hurt,” I said. “And she’s scared.”
“C’mon.” Moose wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me upright. “We’ve got to get back.”
I clenched my eyes shut and tried to walk, making it only a few steps before I fell against a tree and crumbled to the ground.
“Help!” came her scream inside my head. They were torturing her, burning her, and there was nothing I could do.
“I have to go after her,” I roared. “Now!”
She was mine. Mine. And I needed to protect her, to get to her, to keep her safe.
“We will,” Larentia said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “We have to regroup. You can’t do it alone.”
Somehow, I returned to the homestead, my feet reluctantly dragging me forward. Both the wolf inside and the human ached to follow her cries until I located her, but Larentia was right. I couldn’t fight them alone. Hell, the pack had called in reinforcements for a reason, and nothing could be done until we had a solid plan.
When we got back to headquarters, Kodiak was already in a fit. He barked orders at everyone, somehow still maintaining his composure despite Ginny being taken, but the signs of panic were written into the tight muscles around his lips and the rigid way he stood. My body coiled with tension, boiling in my veins like poison, and when Larentia loaded people up with guns, I trembled with the first signs of a battle.
We’ll find you, I tried to tell her through our bond. We’re coming for you.
Help, was all I got in return. Help! Mill, I need you!
I’d never felt more trapped and useless. I had to get to her, and standing here while everyone got ready only made it worse. No one moved fast enough, though the logical side of my brain said they were going as fast as they could.
A wail rang out in the hallway, and everyone quieted down, showing respect for our fallen packmate. Holden’s parents had just been informed of his death, and though an undercurrent of grief gripped all of us severely, we couldn’t give in to it yet. There would be time to mourn his loss, and we would. But we had to get Ginny and Maeve first. He’d want us to do that. He’d want us to save them before tending to his last rites. It was the price we paid to be in the pack. If I were him, I would have insisted on the same thing.
“Serpent, did you perfect that special mist?” Ruby finally asked when Holden’s mother’s sobs died down, bringing us back to the present.
“It’s fucking diabolical,” he answered. “It mimics the sedative effect of shifter blood on vampires. They’ll get high as fucking kites and drop like flies. Then, we’ll move in.”
“What about bullets?” Orion asked. “How much iron do we have?”
“Enough to bring down a small army,” Larentia replied. Some of the old wives’ tales were true. For example, iron brought down a vampire quicker than tearing its head off. On the other hand, silver burned shifters like a hot poker. It would take a large quantity to kill us, but even small amounts slowed us down.
“Channing,” Orion called out. “Is there any way to trace them? A phone or?—”
“What about Ginny’s fitness tracker?” Talon asked. “She never takes it off.”
Channing opened her mouth and shook her head. “I don’t know?—”
