Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)

“Andrew,” Cal growled in warning.

I shifted my eyes to Cal, eyebrows raised. “What’s going on, Cal?” I confirmed my suspicions when I met his eyes, then turned mine back to Andrew. “So what, that’s why you’re really here? For backup in case Cal can’t do it?”

Andrew’s slow smile and curt nod sent a vibrating chill through me. All of Lance’s assurances, all of Cal’s faith in my abilities, were pointless. If Andrew saw me as a target, and I showed even a beat of betrayal, I was as good as dead.

“You won’t fail,” Cal said as he moved to clasp my hand again.

I let his hand rest there, my limbs suddenly feeling like dead weight as Andrew’s eyes told me more than Cal could ever guess. He’d take the shot when Cal wouldn’t. He’d kill me without hesitation.





Chapter Forty





Show Down


Cal’s heart rate ramped ever higher the closer they got to the carnival grounds. The sun had set hours before. Twilight had passed into night and the moon’s eclipse had already begun. According to the texts, Lazarus didn’t need the full eclipse to happen before he would return to his human form. Even the beginning of an eclipse would reverse the spell that bound him to his wolf form and force a change.

Morgan’s body vibrated beside him. He didn’t know if it was fear or excitement that drove her now. She was so determined to get to Rachel, to spare her friend’s life, that she’d made several comments about putting the pedal to the metal to get their asses to the grounds faster.

He’d smirked at her comments, hearing the undercurrent of worry, and fear, but certain that she would overcome them to triumph over Lazarus. He had faith in her, and he believed that Lazarus taking her friend would push the battle more in her favor. She wouldn’t abide by Rachel getting hurt, not while she could do something about it.

As they drove down the long gravel road that led to the carnival grounds, Morgan froze. She leaned forward, pushing herself in between the two front seats. “What the fuck?”

Cal craned his neck around Andrew’s headrest to get a better look.

“Oh shit. Well, I guess we’re not going to need any light,” Andrew said as he glanced over at Cal.

“And we’re also not going to have the element of surprise,” Lance added.

Cal gently nudged Morgan back so that he could get a better look.

The carnival grounds were empty, just as Morgan had predicted, and the concession stand and washroom building were just where she had said they would be. The place looked deserted. Completely free of humans, unlike the night he had retrieved Morgan from Lazarus’s grasp.

But that wasn’t where Lazarus waited. The baseball diamond stood off to one side, clearly visible in the diminishing light of the slowly eclipsing moon. Its floodlights burned brightly overhead, as if some sick game was ready to start. And standing on the pitcher’s mound was Lazarus.

Wearing a tailored black suit, he looked nothing like the beast Morgan had first encountered. He was tall, and by anyone’s standards—men and women alike—he was captivating to behold. Long, ash-colored hair fell past his shoulders, a bold jaw and high cheekbones marked him as an ancient stud. Even without the power of his magical thrall, Cal knew he would have many women, humans and Huntresses, drooling.

“Is that Lazarus?” Morgan whispered as Cal shifted back into his seat.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Lance said.

Morgan shuddered, her body tensing as her eyes played over Lazarus, taking him in from head to toe. “I didn’t expect him to be so…”

“Handsome?” Cal offered weakly, his gut clenching and jealousy spiking.

Andrew shot Cal a look that spoke volumes of his opinion of the situation—that Morgan would fail.

“Human,” Morgan corrected. “I never expected him to look so human.”

“Well, he isn’t human,” Andrew barked. “And he’d rip your friend’s throat out just as soon as he’d stick his cock in you.”

Morgan flinched and Cal pushed forward, banging his fist into the back of Andrew’s seat. “That’s enough, Andrew.”

“Stop the car,” Andrew ordered, and Ken quickly obliged. “I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. There’s no reason to sugarcoat things.” He turned his hard gaze toward Morgan again. “If you fail, your friend dies.”

“If I fail, I die,” she countered, her look just as hard and unflinching.