Second of the Winterset Coven (9 page)

Garret’s story of the wolves cracked through her head like lightning. So vivid in her mind was the vision of him lying on the ground, bleeding from the bites of the wolves, begging Asmund to kill him before he Changed. The wolf and the vampire had battled for his body. She needed weapons. That’s what Torunn was saying. She needed claws and teeth and a way to stay alive until Garret and the coven could get to them.

Asmund approached, his steps deliberate, and as he leapt up and disappeared into a plume of black smog, Dawn grabbed Sadey by the scruff of the neck and jammed her arm in front of the cat’s face. “Give her to me.”

Sadey froze, her pupils constricting. There was a moment of hesitation as her delicate pink nostrils flared before she sank her teeth deep into Dawn’s forearm.

“No!” Asmund bellowed with the deep voice of a demon.

Unforgiving hands ripped her backward, dragging her skin through Sadey’s long, curved canines, tearing her arm in tracks, but already she could feel it growing inside of her. She could feel power pulsing, shredding her insides. As Dawn was catapulted backward and slammed onto the ground, she could hear Sadey’s snarling as she leapt onto Asmund’s back.

Hurry, hurry, animal. I need you!

Asmund grabbed Sadey’s neck and tossed her against the wall like she weighed nothing. The wood splintered all around her, but she got up and charged again. Asmund wrapped his hand around Dawn’s throat and squeezed off her air. He lifted his other hand toward Sadey and murmured, “Stop.”

Sadey’s body froze and she hit the ground hard. She skidded through the dirt and landed a few feet away from Asmund. Her gold eyes were wide and locked in horror on Dawn, and her chest rose and fell in short bursts. Her pupils got bigger and bigger until there was no gold color left and Sadey stared vacantly. Asmund was in her mind now. Sadey was gone, and Dawn was left all alone.

Dawn was choking, scrabbling against his clawed fingers with growing strength, but Asmund was still stronger. He opened his jaws wide, exposing his razor sharp teeth.

“No, no, no,” she choked out, kicking and writhing as hard as she could. She didn’t want to be a vampire. Not like this. She had to keep him from draining her.

When tears of pain and desperation leaked out of her eyes, Asmund smiled an evil expression. “Good
Torunn
. Now call out his name, just like you did all those centuries ago.”

Asmund was blasted sideways as though hit by a train. He rocketed through a support beam and into a wall right where Torunn had stood. And she was there, standing over him, rage written into every ghostly facet of her pale face.

Dawn rolled over and gasped for breath, but her body wasn’t working right. Something powerful pulsed through her veins, growing with each beat of her heart until her body ripped apart. She screamed at the pain as her bones broke, as her muscles and skin and sinew ripped and reshaped. Rage fueled her. When Asmund stumbled upright, Torunn pleaded with her eyes for Dawn to
get up and fight
.

“Kill her!” Asmund ordered his sons, pointing his long nail at Dawn, condemning her to death. He disappeared into a haze of black fog and barreled toward her. All around her, a tornado of bats and deep purple smog filled the space, but she could see better, could hear better, could sense evil better. Her body worked differently, and she was on four legs instead of two now. She was going to fucking kill Asmund for what he’d done to Torunn, to Garret, to Sadey, and to her. The animal part of her was fed by fury, and she gave her body to the beast. She stumbled forward a step, regained her footing, and bolted for the soft purple outline of Asmund in the middle of his cloud of bats and fog. She leapt through the air and landed on him, slashed at him with her claws as he hit the ground hard under them. She clamped down with her teeth on his face, piercing his ancient skin. It wouldn’t kill him, but she would sure as fuck make him hurt.

Cold hands landed on her back, and she was ripped backward. Twisting in the air, Dawn slapped and clawed and roared a battle cry. Her animal was fearless, which made her human side braver, too. There was no room for terror here in the dim barn, only war.

A loud screeching sound filled the air, like nails on a chalkboard, and Asmund’s sons backed off their attack, shoulders hunched at the sound. Torrun stood in the middle of the barn, fists clenched, head thrown back, screaming the awful noise. Asmund was yelling in agony, his fists over his ears as he writhed on the ground.

Sadey was able to push herself up on all fours, which meant one thing. Torunn was breaking Asmund’s mind control. Dawn bolted for him, raked her claws down his arms. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, latched on, and began dragging his struggling body toward the smashed wall where jagged edges of splintered wood were exposed. She had to figure out a way to get one through his chest, through his ribcage, through his heart.

Asmund was so strong, he jerked from her grip just as the far wall exploded inward, showering them in debris. Dawn flattened her ears and hissed. Torunn’s scream stopped abruptly. In a blur, Asmund wrapped his arms around Dawn tight enough to break her body and sank his teeth into her neck. This wasn’t to drain her, though. Her body belonged fully to the animal, and there would be no Turning her into a vampire now. This was Asmund’s desperate attempt to end her, to end Garret, but she wasn’t helpless anymore.

Dawn bit his throat and held on as Asmund grunted in pain and clutched her tighter. Her ribs were snapping, and this was it. She couldn’t escape his grip. Sadey was fighting one of the sons, and there was smoke and rubble everywhere. Torunn was gone, and Dawn was sorry. Sorry she hadn’t been able to hold on, sorry her animal couldn’t help more, sorry she was leaving Garret like Torunn had to.

The outer edges of her vision collapsed inward and dimmed, and then another rib cracked.

Dawn looked up helplessly at the stars that twinkled through the hole in the ceiling. Suddenly, the sky was clouded with millions of bats that flooded into the barn.

Please be real.

The air around her kicked up and she could feel them now.

The Winterset Coven was here.

Her mate was here.

The pain was excruciating as Asmund’s teeth were ripped out of her neck, but in an instant, he was gone. He was lifted up, up toward the stars until she couldn’t see him anymore. Dawn struggled to her belly and snarled as the barn was filled with screams and curses and war. Bats clashed, and men battled. Aric had one of Asmund’s sons against the ground, Shane had another. One was already lying on the floor in ashes. A long wooden beam had been forced into his ribcage so hard it stuck straight out of the ground and vibrated there. Dawn tried to get up to help her friends, but pain slashed through her like a battle ax and her body wouldn’t work right.

Sadey laid down beside her, and Evan ran his hand down her broken body. His eyes held such sadness as he whispered, “Stay put, Dawn. It’s almost over.”

Everything hurt, but nothing more than the thought of losing Garret to Asmund. A tight ball of roiling bats slammed back to earth, rattling the ground beneath them. Garret appeared, face twisted in rage, arm muscles bulging as he held Asmund down. Garret looked huge and powerful, a true destroyer. Behind the battle, Aric stood between two fresh piles of ash, holding a length of old, splintered wood. His eyes were pitch black, and his lips had curled back in an expression that flooded her insides with dread. Aric was a war machine, just like the others. She’d underestimated the power and the unapologetic savagery of the Winterset Coven. Garret held out his hand, and without a word, Aric tossed him the stake. Gracefully, Garret reared back and slammed the wood into Asmund’s heart.

Self-preservation told Dawn to look away. It told her she would never be the same if she watched, but she needed to. It was true. She wasn’t the same. She was Changed. She was broken, but would mend. She was stronger now as she needed to be in order to be the woman Garret deserved.

Asmund arched against the ground, his mouth twisting in a silent scream of agony as his face melted away and his body caught fire. It only lasted a few seconds before Garret stood and watched his origin burn to a pile of ash.

There was a loaded moment that followed that was so profound. The dust and smoke settled, the ground was covered in debris, and half the barn was blown to hell. The coven stood around, chests heaving, bloody, ghosts in their eyes as the mounds of ash burned at their feet. Purring a comforting sound, Sadey snuggled closer to Dawn’s busted-up body. Garret’s attention went straight from Asmund to her. His body was streaked with soot and sweat and glowing in the flickering lanterns that remained. His hair hung to one side, hiding one of his demon-dark eyes, and his chiseled jaw was clenched. His jeans were splattered with blood and grit, but he wiped the ash off his hands before he strode to her and knelt down beside her.

“Shhhh,” he murmured, running a light touch down her side with the grain of her fur. She winced and snarled when he hit her ribs. Garret let off a string of angry-sounding words in another language. “Aric, what do we do? Do we call the Bloodrunners? Their Novak Raven knows how to set shifter bones.”

“No.” Aric said from where he’d appeared right beside Garret. He felt around her ribs and arm gently. “We don’t need to be on their radar any more than we already are,” Aric murmured. “I’ll fix her. I swear I will.”

Garret ran a light touch over the matted fur on her neck where Asmund had ripped into her. Already it felt better, less sore. Her shifter healing must’ve sealed up the wounds there and where Sadey had bitten her on her arm. She wanted to smile and remind Garret that they’d won. She wanted to wipe the worry from his face because it was done. His origin would never hurt them again. Torunn was avenged and so was Dawn. So was Garret.

But all that came out was a deep rattling growl.

Garret inhaled deeply and maneuvered his arms under her, then lifted her easily and cradled her against his body. He buried his nose against her neck and whispered, “You smell different. Good different. This is okay, you know. This was the way it was always supposed to be. I can see that now.” He swallowed hard and rasped out, “I saw everything. You did so good, D. You bought us time to break free and get to you. And now look at you.” He nuzzled his face against hers making her whiskers tingle. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Shane knelt in the dirt and picked something up. The talisman on the broken leather strap dangled from his grasp. The metal glistened in the lantern light and spun in a slow circle.

And now there was the smile Dawn so adored on the man she loved. He looked back at her and murmured, “When my chieftain gave me that, he told me I had the spirit of a wild thing.” Garret’s smile widened with pride. “You’re the wild thing now.”

As Garret followed the others out, stepping carefully over the piles of wood and ash, Dawn looked to the dark corner where Torunn had first appeared. She was there, ever so faintly, her phantom hair blowing in some breeze that didn’t touch Dawn’s fur.

The ghost smiled sadly and lifted her hand in a silent farewell. Dawn didn’t know how she knew, but this was goodbye for always. Asmund was gone, and Torunn’s tether to this world—Garret—was moving on. Torunn had been brave tonight, had helped Dawn, and if she had to resemble anyone, she was glad it was someone as selfless and courageous as Torunn.

Dawn stretched her paw in an answering goodbye, and then Torunn pressed her hand to her chest and disappeared like she had never existed at all.

Dawn bunched her muscles, then leapt up onto a tree branch that was much higher than she could even touch with her fingertips if she were in her human form. Twitching her tail, she balanced easily as she walked on the wide pads of her feet toward the end of the branch. It bowed under her weight, but she jumped off before it snapped.

Sadey was waiting, ears erect and eyes glowing gold as she watched Dawn’s antics. Her mouth was open in a feline grin as she panted, and her long tail was swishing languidly. Dawn rubbed up her side, roughing up Sadey’s fur the wrong way, then snuggled her head against her best friend’s. That was what Sadey was now, or perhaps she’d been that since they’d first gotten to know each other. No one had ever meant as much as Sadey and the coven did. Maybe Garret was to thank for opening her heart to the possibility that not everyone would hurt her.

Sadey moved off through the woods back toward the coven house. Garret would be waking up any time now. It was a strange feeling—knowing instinctively the exact moment the sun was due to set. The animal side of her had changed her from the inside out. The last month had been hard. It had been a roller coaster of emotion that she hadn’t been prepared for.

They’d attended Amanda and Erin’s funerals, right in the middle of the media storm on the Winterset Coven. There was an investigation done quietly by the shifter sector of law enforcement, but the Winterset Feeder Murders, as they’d been deemed by the media, had eventually been declared the fault of Asmund and his coven. The collateral damage had been done, though. Winterset was a small town with a long memory. A murder hadn’t been committed here in more than a decade, and now suddenly two happened? Even if it wasn’t the Winterset Coven’s fault, they were blamed. The battle with Asmund’s coven was the last straw for some of the lower-ranking members of the coven, and the hailstorm of public attention that followed had chased them off completely. Now only four vampires remained. Aric had been left reeling, and Sadey with him as she shouldered the burden of loss with her mate.

Dawn had never asked Garret why he hadn’t wanted to be king of a coven, but watching how hard every decision was on Aric made her realize he’d been smart to accept Second.

The remaining ashes in the old barn had been collected and scattered, as if the humans were afraid of the vampires somehow piecing themselves back together after their final death. Whatever made everyone feel safer.

And in the middle of all that, Dawn had this feral, barely controllable big cat scratching to get out of her.

Dawn sniffed the pile of neatly folded clothes that rested on a tuft of wild grass. She liked to smell everything now. One inhale, and she could learn so much.

Beside her, Sadey Changed like magic, blurring from one form to the next. Dawn wasn’t that good, but she was determined that someday, with enough practice, she would be.

With a soft, rattling growl of determination deep in her throat, Dawn closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles and tucked her animal away. It took a minute. It took an eternity. The pain was blinding and, for a moment, she wished she was her old self again—the one without physical pain in her life.

But as she lay there on the forest floor, naked and panting, she regretted that weak thought. If she were still her old self, she would still have pain, just the emotional kind. When her thoughts got dark like that, it was time to take stock of the heart-filling bright spots over the last month.

The nights with Garret at the coven house.

His laughter, his dancing green eyes, his happiness that somehow fed hers.

Mom finding a desk job at the visitor center and being so proud.

Her growing friendship with Sadey, Aric, Shane, and Evan.

The feeling of belonging, love, adoration, and a confidence that she wouldn’t be left behind again.

“Can I tell you something?” Sadey said quietly as they changed back into their clothes.

“You can tell me anything,” Dawn murmured, and meant it.

Sadey was suddenly very busy looking at her clothes, the woods, her hands, anywhere but at Dawn. “My last crew was cruel, and I felt lonely. There are only a few snow leopard shifters in the world, you know? We weren’t supposed to exist, and so I spent my whole life hiding.”

Dawn pulled the hem of her shirt down over her hips and hugged Sadey up tight. “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

Sadey swallowed hard and hugged her back. Quietly, she said, “When I found Aric and joined his coven, I was still alone. Do you know what I mean? I was different. I was the only shifter registered to a vampire coven, and I love the boys. I
love
them. But I imagined I would always be an outsider, even if they didn’t treat me like one.” Sadey eased back, and even though she was smiling, she was crying. “I don’t feel alone anymore,” she whispered, dislodging two tears that streamed down her cheeks.

A whimper wrenched up Dawn’s throat as she pulled her in close again, ran her cheek along Sadey’s in the affection of their animals. “You aren’t. We aren’t. We made our own crew, and maybe it doesn’t look like other crews, but it’s ours. And it’s amazing. And I never thanked you for giving me the animal. I’ve thought about it so much, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

“You aren’t mad?”

Dawn laughed thickly and shook her head, stared at the horizon where the sun was setting and painting the sky in oranges and neon pinks. “You didn’t know it at the time, but you gave me so much. You made me a supe, like you, like Garret. I can have babies with him someday now because of that split-second decision we made. I won’t be some weak link in the coven, Sadey. You did that. I was just this waitress in a bar who loved a man I couldn’t keep up with. You gave me power. You gave me the ability to defend myself and our makeshift family. Sometimes it’s hard to control the animal, but so what? The parts of our lives that take the most work are the most worth it.”

Sadey eased out of the hug and gripped Dawn’s shoulders, parted her lips to say something, but the sound of fluttering bats stopped her. Sadey smiled and straightened her shoulders, then looked up into the darkening sky.

Clouds of bats blotted out the final gray streaks of dusk. Dawn spun slowly as they surrounded her and Sadey in a powerful circle that lifted the ends of her hair and whipped it around her shoulders.

The coven was here, and somewhere in this wall of power was Garret—her Garret.

Aric appeared out of the smoke first, stepping gracefully toward them, then Garret, Shane, and Evan, one-by-one.

Garret didn’t rush to her like he usually did when he woke, though. He stood stock-still and straight-backed behind his king, chin held high as he watched her with sparking green eyes. His dark hair was mussed on top, and he had shaved the sides, exposing his tattoos. A tight green sweater covered his broad shoulders, and the corners of his lips lifted in a slow, breathtaking smile. He gave those so easily for her.

“Dawn,” Aric greeted her as he approached.

Dawn looked from face to face with a frown. If she was in her animal form right now, her fur would’ve been raised all along her back. “What’s wrong?”

Aric smiled, ghosted a glance at Sadey, and then back to Dawn. “This coven has gone through some big changes over the last year. We lost our queen, toed the line of war with the Bloodrunners, and moved to Winterset. We established ourselves in this community and added Sadey, a shifter, to our coven. We went to battle with Asmund and shouldered the storm that followed.” He swallowed hard, and his eyes darkened. “Our numbers changed when some of the coven fled, and it left a hole that I didn’t really know how to fill. But the answer has been there all along, hasn’t it? One thing has stayed constant since the day you stood on the front porch waiting to feed Garret for the first time. Your loyalty made you more than just a feeder from the second you set foot in the coven house. You have proven yourself important to my Second, to my mate, and to my coven. Human, shifter, or vampire, what you
are
wouldn’t have changed what I’m here to ask you tonight.”

And now it was all making sense. Dawn ducked her chin to her chest and whispered hopefully, “Ask me what?”

Aric’s voice cracked with power as he lifted it to echo through the surrounding woods. “This is a vote to induct Dawn into our coven, into our house, into our hearts.” Aric lifted his hand. “Yes.”

Garret lifted his hand and smiled. “Hell yes.”

“Also hell yes!” Sadey said excitedly from beside her.

“Yay,” Shane said in a bored tone as he bit his thumbnail and raised his other hand.

“Yep,” Evan said quietly.

The tears that had welled up in Dawn’s eyes were now spilling. Oh, what a coven they would make of vampires and shifters. One like no other that existed on earth.

Garret approached slowly and held something up. It was the necklace that had been broken the night they’d gone to war with Asmund. Now it bore a new soft leather strap, and the metal leopard had been polished to shining. She ducked her head so he could slip it over her hair, and then she stared for a moment at the precious trinket.

Breath hitching, Dawn pulled the gift she’d made for him out of her pocket and unrolled the thin leather necklace. It had taken her a full month to make and perfect the metal bat. She set it on Garret’s open palm and looked up at him just to see the expression of shock on his face.

“You made this?” he asked.

“Awww,” Sadey said in a mushy murmur behind them.

Someone shushed her, probably Shane.

“You told me once that your people didn’t give rings for commitment, and it stuck with me.”

Garret scrubbed his hand down his chiseled jaw. Eyes full of emotion, he handed the necklace back to her and ducked his head.

Blowing out a steadying breath, Dawn slipped it over his head and settled it on his chest, in the same place where hers sat.

When he lifted his bright-eyed gaze to her again, she was stunned at the adoration she saw there. She could almost feel his love for her like a caress, just from the look in his eyes.

He drew her fingertips to his lips and then lifted them to the side of his head to the last tattoo that sat just at the edge of his hairline. There was new ink—a horizon with a rising sun.
Dawn
.

“You’re the best part of my story,” he whispered as she traced the small sunrays. “The last vote is up to you. You have the final say in whether you become a part of this. Yes or no?”

Vision blurring, Dawn threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled him affectionately as her animal demanded she treat her mate. A soft sound rattled up her throat. A purr. It was as if her animal recognized his soul. Garret thought he didn’t have one, but he did, and it was beautiful.

A word from her lips, and she would be a part of his coven, a part of him.

A word from her lips, and she would never be alone again.

A word from her lips, and she would be his, as he was hers.

With a smile over his shoulder at the Winterset Coven—at
her
coven—she held Garret close and whispered, “Yes.”