Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7) (11 page)

Matt stepped to her side.

Anca held her sword ready, a part of her tracking the wolf's every move. Another part of her remained fully aware of Matt's presence.

The wolf howled, raising the hair on her neck. There was no humanity left in that sound. Only the hunger of a beast.

She weaved another spell, one taught to her by Elder Endulpias himself, and reinforced with unbreakable bonds of Council magic. It settled over the wolf. He stopped short, growling, snapping at the air.

There. That was better. And how an enemy was supposed to react to the power of the Council.

With a deafening howl of rage, the wolf ripped free of the magic.

Impossible to believe.

Yet twice couldn't be a fluke.

Not bothering to waste strength on more seemingly useless Council spells, Anca held her short sword ready, and rushed the shaggy brown wolf.

Much larger than their animal cousins, shifters had size and muscle and magic on their side. They also had damn near unlimited strength of will. She'd known shifters to ignore pain and continue to fight even as the light of life faded from their eyes.

Anca angled her sword for the wolf's unprotected throat, flashing past him with speed and power. At the last second, she pulled back, spilling blood but not cutting deep enough to kill.

His warbling cry and the sharp metallic tang widened her smile.

She blinked and Matt was there. He moved like the wind, a beautiful dance of flying hands and feet. His fists sank against the wolf's ribs in rapid hits.

The wolf's squeals mixed with pained howls. It stumbled out of reach, shaking its head. Without warning, the animal attacked, a blur almost seeming to pass through time and space as it rushed Matt. He set his stance in some form of martial arts Anca couldn't name.

Seconds before the wolf reached him, it turned. And it was fast.

It raked Anca's left arm with sharp claws. Ignoring the stinging slashes, she struck her razor sharp blade along its haunches, still pulling her hit.

She wanted to blood the beast, not kill him. Wear him down. Eventually, he would answer all her questions.

Once she got to them.

First was the thrill of the fight, the clash between magic and strength and life and death. Her pulse pounded with exhilaration.

She dodged claws, snapping fangs. The wolf somehow managed to flow untouched between her sword and Matt's lightening fast strikes. Low growls echoed through the cave. Hot dark magic pressed at her from every direction.

And she wondered at the power of this Rogue. Stronger even than a Council's Judge.

Matt's fist slammed against the side of the wolf's head.

It tumbled over the ground, was slow to sit back up. Then it howled again. Rising on its back legs in a parody of a dance, it leapt for Anca, and in a split-second sank sharp canines deep into her shoulder.

She jabbed her sword into its side, once, twice, then hurtled her magic through the blade, into the wolf's body.

With ear piercing howls it let go.

Matt plowed into the animal, flinging it away from her.

It crashed against the wall. Slid to the floor.

In only an instant it regained its feet.

The wolf looked up at them and shook its head with a whimper-snort. The haze of pain faded, but didn't disappear, from its ice blue eyes.

She stepped to one side, Matt moved to the other, effectively blocking the creature in.

From the tunnel behind them came an echo of howls responding to the injured shifter.

***

T
he bleeding but still unsubdued shifter howled again, one long, loud sound that blended with the coming creatures. When the shifter dropped its head and looked at them, its muzzle split in a sly grin.

The rock amplified the call of the arriving wolves until Matt couldn't even guess how many there might be.

Certainly not the hundreds the cacophony of cries sounded like.

Anca pressed closer to the Rogue. It nearly came up to her chest, she was so small. With blood splattered across her shirt, and dripping down her left shoulder and arm, it was all Matt could do to reign in the urges raging through him. The demand that he rip her away from danger and get her to safety.

There was nowhere to take her.

From the tunnel spilled out furry beasts. He counted them. Five. Another, larger beast emerged. Six.

For a split second the air stirred, pushing him closer to Anca.

The shaggy Rogue jerked its muzzle to the ceiling and howled again. The newcomers joined in.

Power blasted Matt's skin like abrasive sandpaper.

The six new wolves stiffly stepped closer, hackles raised, their eyes showing nothing but animalistic needs.

The grasping air jerked him a few feet backward.

Anca matched his steps. She whispered, "Wait."

He hadn't been about to do anything. Stiffening, he forced his thoughts faster. He'd figure a way out of this.

"Take care of the Rogue," she said so quietly he barely heard. "I have the new wolves."

The woman wanted to take on six beasts while Matt only faced one? He inhaled deeply—ignoring her springtime and cherry blossom scent filling his lungs—ready to tell her no damned way.

She pointed her sword at the incoming beasts. "Halt in the name of the Magic Council." A powerful command laced her voice.

Five of the six wolves dropped to crouch with their bellies to the ground. Only the very large black one in the back continued toward her.

Low deep growls drew Matt's full attention to the leader. The Rogue's cold, husky blue eyes held such malevolence and hunger.

This was a darkness he'd encountered before. One he'd hoped to never meet again. Surprise didn't come. Not after everything these Arcaine monsters had done in his town, to his clan.

The wolf leapt, snapping sharp fangs at Matt's throat.

Instinct took over. Power, speed and strength rushed through him. Exhaling sharply, he struck his fist directly above the wolf's heart.

Ribs cracked and shattered. Squeals rang in Matt's ears as the animal crashed into him, a flurry of jaws and sharp claws.

Across the cave, Anca shouted in frustration and pain.

Matt's blood boiled. His protective instincts rushed to the fore, commanding him to protect. Primitive fury mixed with the rush of the fight.

Without thought, he threw the wolf onto the stony ground, grabbed its ears in one hand, its muzzle in his other. Rage roared from Matt. He twisted violently.

The wolf's spine snapped.

Matt ripped its head from its shoulders, ensuring a permanent death.

Still riding the overwhelming need to protect, he raced for Anca.

Just as she cut down the black wolf. It struggled to rise for a short moment, then collapsed and stopped moving.

Matt scanned the cave for any other signs of threats, his vision awash with a red haze.

Protect. Must protect.

Cool air rushed over his face, making him blink. For an instant, he almost thought he saw sparks floating just in front of him.

With the threats contained, rationality returned. The light touches of air stopped.

Anca glared at Matt, her breathing heavy from the fight.

The five wolves who'd frozen at her command remained on the ground, still but for their trembling. They stared at her with blank eyes.

"Are you all right?" Matt demanded, looking over her bloodied skin to check the extent of her injuries. No bones appeared broken. The bite wounds on her shoulder were healing, but he'd like to see a few stitches in them to stop her blood loss. Deep gashes marked one of her arms, her neck and collar. Claw marks. Healing better than the ragged bite at least.

"I'm fine." Her voice was lower than normal. From exertion. Probably pain. The husky European lilt sent an electric jolt down his spine.

Then she asked, "What about you?"

A sudden realization struck him mute. She was studying him with the same protective intensity pushing him with worry.

The thought forced him a startled step backward.

To cover the awkwardness, he said, "Let me get that bandaged. Stop the bleeding at least."

Confusion shadowed her expression.

It clouded his mind a moment, as well, when he glanced around and realized he didn't have any bandages. No first aid kit. Nothing.

Without thinking, he jerked his t-shirt over his head. A bit sweaty, some blood and dirt stains, but the cleanest thing in this damned cave. He ripped it into long strips.

Folding some over into pads, he pressed them against her deeper gouges and bite marks.

Anca hissed. Though the pain had to be excruciating, especially when he took her right hand and told her to push the pads tight to her shoulder, she didn't show any other signs. He ripped a longer strip from the shirt.

She stood stiffly as he tied the makeshift bandage. It would do until he had something better.

Shadows stirred in her gaze.

He searched her face, her posture. "Something else hurt?"

She shook her head, stared intently at the ground between them. "Thank you." Her whispered words were so quiet they nearly got away before he could catch them.

"For what?"

"Helping." She motioned to her shoulder with her good right hand, biting back a wince.

Almost as if glimpsing a peek into her soul, he suddenly understood that this woman was used to being alone. So very alone. Having another along, concerned and ready to help, was a completely foreign concept to Anca.

For some reason, the thought of keeping her on her toes pleased him. As did the way her arm was healing a little faster now that the fighting was done.

This close to her, the scent of cherry blossoms invaded his senses. Inside Matt, long forgotten things rose and fell like shallow waves just waiting to become a tsunami with a coming tide.

He couldn't look away from Anca as he suddenly saw so many similarities between them.

One of the cowering wolves whimpered and Anca turned away, breaking the spell.

Matt caught the way she gingerly held her side, below her ribs. Donning the professionalism of a doctor to hide the tumultuous things churning inside him, Matt stopped her with a hand on her uninjured arm. He lifted her shirt to find ragged bloody claw marks over her waist and hip.

He scowled. "I thought you didn't have any other injuries?"

Anca blinked at him with owlike innocence, started to shrug, then winced. "I didn't know about that."

After he bandaged them, he double checked for anything else she hadn't noticed. When he found no other major wounds, the tension in his muscles eased.

With all hints of lurking danger gone, the last rush of adrenaline faded. Matt took a few settling breaths, then studied the cave.

Including what he'd done to the Rogue shifter.

It had been a surprise, the overwhelming rage and protectiveness.

And yet, he'd thought such actions to be far in his past. He didn't fight anymore. He was a healer now. No longer a killer.

Or so he'd believed.

The contradicting proof lay on the dusty cave floor. Matt's gut churned. He denied the smallest of shakes trembling along his nerves. To keep this woman safe, he'd slipped into long distant roles from the far past.

Without a second's hesitation. Something he'd only ever done for those he'd considered his.

"You have your cell phone?" Anca asked.

Mutely, he pulled it out and turned it on. No service. "It won't work in here."

Anca waved at the wolves. "We need to tie them up. Then find somewhere we can call your Keeper of the Peace."

The first thing that came to mind thoughtlessly escaped. "You're not going to torture them for information?"

Vertebra by vertebra, Anca stiffened. She started to tilt her head, hid a wince, then shot him a grimacing smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I save torture for special occasions. It's funner that way."

An apology caught at the tip of his tongue.

She sounded sarcastic. But she
did
work for the damned Magic Council. Which meant torture was just one of many dubious tools of her trade. And yet...

Stopping that line of thought, Matt strode to the bound vampires, a young couple he'd known from town. As mortals. They'd abruptly moved away about six years ago, without a word to anyone. How had they managed to hook up with the Rogues? To become vampires?

Grabbing the rope they'd had with them, Matt returned and knelt by the wolves.

Anca took the rope, cutting a length with her sword. One by one, Matt forced the shifters to sleep, then hogtied them tightly. Anca remained silent as she cut the rope into smaller sections and handed them to him  for muzzles around each wolf's jaws.

Finished, Matt banked the fire and took one last look around. Not only at a glimpse of the evil stalking his town, but at the darkness inside himself, kept at bay for so long, but now, once more unlocked.

A
t Matt's side, Anca hurried down the tunnel, gritting her teeth the entire trip. At the pain radiating through her body, especially concentrated in her slowly healing shoulder. And the rumble of hunger in her belly didn't help.

She needed food. Blood. Both of them soon.

Outside, the forest hung silent and still. The sunset streaked the sky in shades of purples and reds and golds. It wouldn't be long before night fully descended.

Matt stopped a few feet from the tunnel and checked his cell. "Nothing. This deep into the forest, surrounded by so much rock, not to mention the magic in this place. The only option is hiking further out, or getting to higher ground." He stared intently at the forest around them. "You feel any other threats?"

"No." The flickerings of magic from the earth spirits circling both her, and for some reason, Matt, were calm.

Anca couldn't sense anyone else of power nearby.

Matt pointed to the tall, craggy hill cresting to a flat mesa about forty feet above the tunnel.

It was an easy climb. If her arm and shoulder weren't injured. She raised a brow.

He shrugged. "It's not too far. I'll make the call. Anything happens, yell. I'll be right back."