Ghastek locked his teeth. He kept a pair of chains used in witch trials on the wall of his office. The reminder of witch burnings had hit home.
“She will be given every opportunity to prove her innocence,” Rowena said.
“Yes, she will,” Jim said. “We’re turning her over to human law enforcement.”
Hugh’s face lost its half-smile. Oh no. Did you find half a worm in the apple you just bit?
“That would be extremely unwise,” Ghastek said.
“Why?”
“For one, it exposes both of our factions to public scrutiny,” Rowena said.
“I thought you were all about avoiding bloodshed,” Jim said.
I gave Ghastek my best psycho smile. “I think we could all benefit from a little transparency.”
“You’re fucking up,” Hugh said from his horse.
“Shut the hell up,” I told him. “Nobody’s talking to you.”
“You’re bluffing,” Hugh said. “You won’t find anyone to take her.”
I pointed to the approaching riders.
Ghastek turned to glance over his shoulder. Beau and two deputies, a short compact man with red hair and a Hispanic woman in her forties, were closing in.
“Beau Clayton?” Ghastek dipped his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He has no jurisdiction here.”
“Yes he does. Those woods over there are in Milton County.”
Hugh’s eyes turned dark.
“He’s respected and has a high profile,” Ghastek called out. “If you kill him, every law enforcement agency will converge on us.”
Beau was only a few yards away. Six foot six and built like one of the ancient Saxons who swung axes as tall as they were, Beau rode a dappled Percheron cross that stood about eighteen hands tall and looked strong enough to pull a semi. The two deputies rode Tennessee walkers. Three riders, three shotguns. Nothing else.
Beau came to a stop. The vampires stared at him, held in check by the navigators’ minds.
“Alright,” Beau boomed. “I’m Beau Clayton, lawfully elected by the people of Milton County as their sheriff. It’s the duty of my office to faithfully execute all writs, warrants, precepts, and processes directed to me as sheriff of this county. I’m here to execute a warrant.”
The bloodsuckers stared at him.
Hugh’s stare turned calculating. He was thinking about it.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take this person into custody. You are going to turn around and go home. The lynching has been canceled. Move along. There is nothing to see here.”
Hugh’s stallion danced under him.
“Disperse,” Beau repeated.
Hugh reached for his sword.
I raised my hand. The gates of the Keep swung open. Shapeshifters in warrior form waited in rows, filling the courtyard, their fur raised, their fangs bared. I had put every shapeshifter capable of a half-form into the courtyard. Sixty-four people. Only eighteen were combat rated, but from here, it looked like every single one was a render.
“If you assault an officer of law, the Pack will retaliate,” Jim said.
“Your best people are gone,” Ghastek said. “You’re at half-strength at best.”
I nodded. “Yes, most of our young single people have gone to hunt. You’ll be facing parents whose children are in that Keep. Have you ever tried to take a cub from a wolf? You’re welcome to give it a shot.”
Hugh’s hand was on his sword.
I reached for Slayer. Laughter bubbled up. “Go ahead, Hugh. Make my day. I’m really frustrated right now. I need to vent. Please.”
He glared at me.
“You lost,” I told him. “I called your bluff. Take your goons and go home.”
“We have no legal standing to attack a sheriff,” Ghastek said.
“You’ll do what I tell you,” Hugh told him.
“No, he won’t,” I told him. I could tell by Ghastek’s eyes that he was out. Whatever Hugh decided now, I had done my job. I had stopped this war from happening.
A roar rolled through the snowy field, shaking the winter air like a sudden, terrifying clap of thunder. Hugh’s Friesian jerked. The roar cascaded, frothing with menace and fury, awakening some long-forgotten instinct that severed the rational part of the brain from the body and left only three options open: fight, flight, or freeze.
Curran.
The relief drowned me, turning me weightless, and for a short blissful moment I was completely and utterly happy. Curran!
The trees at the north edge of the field shook as a flock of birds took flight. Curran leaped into the snow. He rose almost eight feet tall in warrior form, a muscled terrifying blend of a man and a predatory cat, sheathed in gray fur and armed with claws the size of my fingers. His head was pure lion. He opened his mouth and roared.
An enormous Kodiak bear emerged from the brush, shaking his big furry body. Next to him a bouda giggled. I’d never been so happy to hear that eerie hair-raising cackle in my entire life.
Shapeshifters poured out of the woods, ten, twenty, more . . . Where did he get them . . . ?
He must’ve gone to the Wood and pulled our people off the hunt. He’d brought an army. Yes!
Curran broke into a run. The shapeshifters followed, raising powdery snow into the air.
“We’re done here.” Ghastek turned to the sea of vampires. “Mission aborted. Bogey to mother.”
The vampires streamed off the field.
I laughed.
Hugh turned his horse, facing me. “I tried to be nice, but I have my limits. You want to be treated like an animal, I’ll treat you like one.”
He opened his mouth. Magic ripped from him like a tidal wave and snapped, catching me. A power word.
The right side of my face turned hot. A pale gold light spiraled around me. Next to me, Ghastek jerked, caught in an identical glowing tornado.
On the wall behind me, Christopher screamed, “Mistress!”
Hugh smirked.
Whatever was happening, he would die before it was over. I dashed to him across the snow, sword out. The light moved with me, streaming around me in bright sunny ribbons. I leaped over the thorns.
Hugh slid off his horse.
Curran sprinted to me, his eyes pure gold.
I struck. Hugh’s blade met mine. He bared his teeth at me.
The tornado of light around me pulsed with red, slicing through Slayer’s blade where it touched Hugh’s sword. The blade snapped in half.
No!
The field, Hugh, and Curran vanished.
13
SOMEONE JERKED THE ground from under my feet. I hurtled through empty air, weightless, my arms transparent. Bricks flashed before me. I was falling through a round shaft. Directly below me a thick metal grate blocked dark water.
I’m going to die.
I hit the grate and passed through it, as if it were air. My body plunged into the water.
Lukewarm. Wet.
My body turned solid. I kicked, surfaced, and stared at half a sword in my hand. Hugh broke my sword. He broke Slayer.
He broke my sword.
I curled into a ball around my saber, plunging into the water. I’d had Slayer since I was five. Voron gave it to me. I had slept with it under my bed almost every night for the past twenty-two years. Slayer was a part of me and now it was broken. Broken in half. It felt like someone had cut my arm off and it just kept hurting and hurting.
I would kill him. It wasn’t an “if.” It was a “when.”
He broke Slayer.
Above me someone else was falling down, through the grate, and into the water. I choked and swam up. A moment later and Ghastek surfaced next to me with a gasp. He splashed around in panic. I gave him room. About ten seconds later, he stopped thrashing and stared at me.