Wolf's Fall (23 page)

“The bullet hit my leg.” John helped him sit up. “Think I can make it, though.”

“What happened to your side?” The big man pointed.

“Ivan stabbed me with that big fucking knife.” Nick grabbed his friend's arm. “Wait. Get Tarron the hell out of here. He's worse off than me. I'll cover you.”

The boiling heat was now nearly unbearable. The fight had moved to the fringes and people were scattered.

Nick propped himself on his elbows, ready. “Get him out, now!”

“Hang on,” John said grimly. “I'll be right back, okay?” He lifted Tarron into his arms with a grunt, whirled, and took off in as close to a dead run as he could manage.

Nick returned the volley of gunfire, buying John precious seconds. Throwing a look over his shoulder, he almost collapsed with relief to see the man disappear through the hole. He raised his head and caught a glimpse of Ivan sliding along the wall, much closer now.

The vampire was circling around, closing in on him. Nick raised his arm, sighted him, and pulled the trigger. The only response was a metallic
clink
. Empty.

“Shit,” he gritted through his teeth. He heaved
the useless object away, wiping blood and sweat from his eyes. His brain screamed at him to shift into his wolf. To fight.

It had to be now. Nick pushed up only to find himself shoved roughly to the floor again. Ivan was standing over him, smirking in triumph, one foot braced on his chest. With the ceiling high above his head consumed by writhing flame, he was struck by how very much the vampire resembled Satan.

“This is how it ends, wolf,” Ivan said with a sneer. He brandished the big knife. “It's almost a shame to end our dance, but my mate deserves your blood. Are you ready to die?”

“I'm not afraid to die, Ivan. But I think you should go first!” He grabbed his enemy by the ankle and yanked with all his strength. The other man, caught unprepared, lost his balance and fell onto his back.

Agony seared through his side and leg, but Nick ignored it as he rolled and pushed himself up. Bracing his weight on his good knee, he launched himself at Ivan as the knife swung up. Nick landed on top of him, grabbing his wrist and twisting the blade away from his own body. Locked together, they fought for control of the weapon, nose to nose, staring each other down. Malice gleamed in the depths of Ivan's eyes.

Nick strained, his muscles bunching, the cords of his neck standing out. Though fueled by hatred,
Ivan's physical strength was no match for his. Breath coming in short puffs, Nick began to feel the tide turn in his favor. The other man realized it, too, and snarled in rage. With one last, great effort, Nick wrung the dagger from Ivan's grasp and lunged.

The blade sank deep into Ivan's belly and the vampire's eyes flew wide in disbelief. Nick gave the handle another shove inward, then up, sending it all the way to the hilt. Ivan's hands fell at his sides, an odd gurgling sound coming from his lips.

Pushing himself up, Nick stood, keeping most of his weight on his good leg. He stared down at Ivan impassively, and felt nothing but relief.

“End it,” the vampire gurgled. “I want to join my mate.”

For a second there, Nick almost believed the vampire felt remorse. “My pleasure. Burn in hell together.”

Faster than he ever had, Nick dropped to his knees and shifted. He lunged for Ivan's throat—and ripped it out.

Even though the vampire was dead, Nick savaged the body until there was no hope he could revive. The bastard had touched his mate, terrified her. Had almost killed Tarron and had killed many others.

At last he was done, but the devil hadn't yet reaped his due. To Nick, the final scene unfolded
in slow motion, as if underwater. No sound, no sense of time.

Calla ran back into the inferno, screaming Nick's name. John was on her heels, reaching for her.

Across the room, Jax fell at last. Then Ryon, and Micah. They didn't move again.

Rogues and hunters started laughing, celebrating. In wolf form, Nick ran for Calla, ignoring his healing injuries. The battle was all but lost, but he would save his mate. Or die trying.

Then a loud clap of thunder shook the mountain. Pebbles were dislodged from the walls, and people lost their footing. Nick reached Calla and pushed her behind him, backing her toward the escape route—and then stopped to stare in awe at the sight before them all.

Sariel.

The Fae prince was hovering above the now-halted battle, looking down upon their enemies, his face etched with a smoldering rage Nick had never seen before. His hair cascading around him like a jeweled blue waterfall. Matching wings were spread to a great width, easily keeping him aloft above the carnage.

A hunter raised his rifle, prepared to take a shot.

And Sariel reduced the unfortunate man to a puff of smoke with the flick of a wrist.

“Hunter and rogue vermin,” his steady voice
proclaimed. “For your crimes against my friends and family, who've never done you any harm, I sentence you to death. Go to the devil, if he'll have you. I really don't care.”

With that, his arm swept out and blue fire shot like a torch from the palm of his hand. Everyone hit the ground, friend and foe alike, but the fire only incinerated their enemy. Men screamed, their voices cut mercifully short. Probably a kinder end than they'd deserved—except for the fear they'd experienced while staring at Sariel in shocked awe.

That
they'd deserved in spades.

When the cries finally died, the blue flames gentled. They danced among the wreckage, and touched the fallen. Caressed them with care, almost lovingly. Nick's throat grew tight, thinking it was a fitting good-bye to those they'd lost.

And then everyone the flame touched began to stir, and come around with a groan.

“Holy fucking shit,” John whispered.

“Nick,” Calla said, fingers digging into his fur. “He's—he saved them. Gods, he's saved them all!”

It was true. The injured and formerly dead began to rise, looking down at their whole, uninjured bodies. Patting themselves in disbelief, looking around them with wide eyes.

Uncaring of his nakedness, Nick shifted back. A slow smile spread across his face as Aric, Jax,
Ryon, and Micah came into view. Whole and without a scratch, and totally dumbfounded.

“Nick, what the fuck just happened?” said Jax.

“Sariel just saved our collective asses—that's what.” He'd never forget the sight as long as he lived.

Or his debt to the Fae prince.

Calla flung her arms around him, squealing as her confused brother stepped through the hole in the rock. “Tarron's okay, too!”

“I think so,” her brother said, walking over. “Jesus, this is unbelievable. Your Fae prince wiped them out.”

“That I did,” Sariel said, landing in the middle of the group with a flutter of wings.

“I don't know how to thank you,” Tarron said, getting emotional. “You saved my coven. My family.”

“And mine,” Sariel pointed out.

“Still, I know what using that kind of power must've cost you. So thank you.” It was all Nick could think of to say.

“I'm all right. I'm a lover, not a fighter,” the Fae quipped, “but when I'm called, I'll come. Especially for those I love.”

Nick clapped a hand on Sariel's shoulder as his friend went on.

“In my own realm, I'd be executed for what I just did,” Sariel said with a half smile. “I'm not allowed to interfere with destiny any more than
you are, Commander. But I'd do it again in a second. Know that.”

“Thank you,” Nick said again. “I don't know how we'll ever repay you.”

“I'm sure I'll think of something.”

With that, the Fae prince spread his wings and took to the sky, bound for home.

Nick couldn't wait to do that as well. Wherever home was going to be for him and Calla, he didn't care.

As long as he was with his mate, nothing else mattered.

But the next words out of John's mouth gave Nick pause.

“Hey, where's Kalen? I see everybody but him.”

Nick frowned. “I haven't seen him since he was battling with Jinn.”

That caused some mild concern, but the consensus was Kalen was around here somewhere, that Sariel's magic had destroyed Jinn as well. But as they searched the stronghold, calling Kalen's name, Nick started to really get worried.

Kalen was nowhere to be found. At least not inside.

The search moved to the outdoors. Nick pulled on his clothes again and strode into the sunlight. He, Calla, and the others spread out while Aric and Micah changed to wolf form and tried to catch Kalen's scent. There wasn't a sign of him, until a
loud barking reached them from about a hundred yards away.

Grabbing Calla's hand, Nick walked with her through the brush. At last they reached the spot where a group was gathering, all of them staring at a wide black swatch that had been cut through the trees and brush, all the way down the mountain.

Nick nodded at the path. “Looks like maybe Kalen and Jinn fought it out all the way down to the bottom.”

Aric appeared worried about his friend. “But that means Kalen and that monster weren't inside when Sariel showed up and saved everyone.”

That was a horrible and sobering thought. Some of the guys exchanged looks and then Nick shouted, “Follow the trail to the bottom. Leave no stone unturned!”

Next to him, Calla searched. Nick couldn't understand why if the trail was clear, the sun was out and birds were singing, they couldn't find Kalen. He refused to consider that Jinn had taken him hostage. That would be more than anyone could take right now.

Especially Mackenzie, home with their baby son.

The black path stopped at the bottom, right at the waterfall Nick thought of as his and Calla's. The pool glistened as usual, not a thing out of place.

Except for the Sorcerer's staff rising majestically from the water, embedded in the sand below. Oddly, the staff was still glowing with power. Nick called out and moved forward as others joined him. He was aware of Aric jogging past, and the redhead stopped and stared at the staff in bewilderment.

“What's that supposed to mean? Has that asshole kidnapped Kalen?” He started forward.

“Aric, don't touch it,” Nick ordered.

He moved to the edge of the pool. “I'm not. I'm just going to see—”

The red wolf broke off as something under the water caught his attention. His eyes widened. And then he shouted, long and loud, the sound filled with anger and pain. He vaulted over the rocks and into the water, yanking furiously at the staff.

“What the hell?” Nick and a couple of the others followed Aric, and when Nick saw what had happened, he struggled not to be sick.

Kalen was there. Under the water, impaled through the chest by his own staff, pinned to the bottom of the pool. His eyes were half-open, small bubbles clinging to his mouth.

“Mother of God.”

“Shit! Kalen!”

Working together, they loosened the end of the staff from the bottom of the pool and lifted Kalen out, staff and all. They didn't dare remove it yet.
Carefully, they placed him on his back in the grass and Nick knelt, checking his breathing.

“Need to get some air into him.” Tilting Kalen's head into the right position, Nick started rescue breathing. It seemed to take forever, but was probably less than a minute before Kalen coughed, water spewing from between his lips.

That the staff hadn't impaled the Sorcerer's heart was a miracle. Or perhaps that was due to the magical staff protecting its master. Nick snapped his gaze to Ryon. “Get Zander down here, fast.”

“Boss, he's not supposed to heal—”

“Do it!”

“Yes, sir.”

While Ryon concentrated on contacting Zan, Nick did his best to keep his team calm. Especially Aric, who was losing his fucking mind.

“Get that thing out of him! How's he supposed to heal with that in his chest?”

“Aric, look at me,” Nick said calmly. “Probably the only thing that has kept him alive is this staff. And until Zan gets here to tell us what to do, it stays or we could hurt him worse. I know he's your best friend, but you're not helping him if you can't keep it together.”

Aric swallowed hard. “Yeah. Okay.”

After that, Zan appeared and fell to his knees at Kalen's side with a curse. He took a few moments to examine the wound, then appeared to come to
a decision. “Here's what we're going to do. Remove the staff, slowly. As you do, I'm going to heal the wound from the inside out.”

“Can you withstand a healing of this type now?” Nick asked. “I won't endanger two of my team.”

“I can. I'm much better and I'm immortal now, remember?”

He was. Mating with Selene, a born wolf like Nick, had seen to that.

“You can still die,” he said. “Be certain.”

“I am. Let's start. He doesn't have much time.”

They got to work, carefully inching out the staff as Zan worked his healing talent. The squelching sounds the rod made as it was withdrawn were horrible, making him ill. It was necessary, however, and they kept to the grisly task until at last it was done.

The hole in Kalen's chest was gone, but the danger to him wasn't over.

“I need a couple of vampires to teleport him home, to the compound.”

Immediately two volunteers ran forward, and Aric informed him they'd need three. He wasn't leaving his bud until he had to. Another vampire escorted Aric, and the whole group vanished.

“Zan, are you all right?” Nick asked.

“Yes, I'm fine.” The Healer stood; he was a bit pale, but otherwise he seemed to be telling the truth.

Selene was still going to chew his ass out. He wasn't looking forward to the confrontation. Nick wiped the blood from his hands on the grass and stood with a tired sigh. Calla wrapped her arms around him and held on, her love the only thing that made sense in this moment.