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Authors: Rhyannon Byrd

Tags: #Man-Woman Relationships, #Paranormal Fiction, #General, #Shapeshifting, #Fiction, #Good and Evil

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The Death-Walker he’d hit was still coming after him, probably figuring that as a human, he’d be one of the weakest links in the group. With its jagged fangs bared, it swiped at him with its long claws. Arching backward, Seth managed to narrowly avoid the deadly claws, quickly twisting and bringing his right leg around in a bone-cracking roundhouse that slammed against the Death-Walker’s jaw. Both of the vampires had joined the fight, and the creature staggered toward Gideon, who had already released his talons. The vamp swiped at its chest, pulling a thick spray of black mist that covered Gideon’s front. While it was still reeling from the blow, Seth tucked his gun into the back of his jeans and whipped out his handcuffs. Wrenching the Death-Walker’s arms behind its back, he slapped the cuffs on its wrists and slammed it against the nearest building.

“The other one just took off,” Ashe muttered, using his sleeve to wipe away a spray of black slime that had caught him in the face during the fight. “I don’t think they were expecting us to be able to hurt them.”

“Make sure the villagers don’t move,” Quinn said to Garrick, who still had his weapon drawn, before moving closer to the Death-Walker Seth had captured. “What’s up with the changes in your bodies?” he demanded harshly.

“We’ve been feeding,” it growled, struggling against Seth’s grip as he held the creature pinned against the front of the village church, his long fingers clenching its throat. “Every time we’ve made a kill, we’ve gotten stronger.”

“We saw the bodies of your victims on our way into the village,” Gideon said, standing beside his brother. “Thought you assholes were only meant to be hunting the Watchmen.”

“Oops,” it lisped, its lips spreading in a wide, maniacal smile. “I guess when we explained our purpose to your friends we left out a few important details.”

“Ya think?” Gideon snapped, jerking his head toward the tethered humans.

“You might be getting stronger,” Seth growled, tightening his grip on the creature’s throat, “but now we can get a hold on you.”

“True,” it laughed, its yellow eyes bright with madness. “But you still can’t kill me.”

Seth squeezed until he felt something snap. “Tell us what the hell this is about.”

“Fuck you,” it wheezed, though it didn’t seem to be struggling for air. Hell, for all they knew, the Death-Walkers didn’t even need to breathe.

“What did you want with this village?” Ashe demanded in a deep, guttural snarl of words, coming a little closer. “Why bother with the humans, when you’re meant to be coming after the Watchmen?”

“Our bites only work on humanity.” The Death-Walker grinned, which made it even uglier. “But first we needed to get a little meat on our bones. You can’t give new life to something until you have some substance yourself.”

“New life?” Quinn grunted, pointing toward the villagers. “You’ve killed those people!”

“No. Just borrowed them, really.”

“You mean destroyed them.”

Humor danced in the yellow depths of its eyes.
“Would it help if I said we had no choice?” it asked with a rusty laugh.

Seth slammed the back of its head against the building, and it laughed even louder. “Okay. All right. The plain and simple truth is that your side is just taking too long. The Merrick are moving too slowly against the Casus, and there’s too few of us to do what needs to be done. So we had no choice but to start building ourselves a little army.”

Seth considered pointing out the fact that things were only going to move slower if these assholes kept killing off the Watchmen, but before he could say anything, Quinn came a little closer, his tall, muscled form shaking with rage. “What the hell did you do to them?”

“We bit them. Our bites, while ineffective against the clans, have an interesting effect on humans.”

“So you’ve what? Turned them into your own little zombie soldiers?”

“What are they meant to do, anyway?” Seth demanded. “They can barely move, much less fight.”

“Their name is the
Infettato
, or the Infected, and they’re not meant to fight. They’re meant to
eat
. And like their makers, the more they eat, the stronger they’ll become,” it explained in that grating, lyrical voice. “It’s genius, really. Just imagine the kind of chaos an army of flesh-eating humans will cause!”

“You’re even worse than the Casus,” Ashe said, enraged. “They might be a group of sadistic assholes, but at least they have something they’re fighting for. You…you’re just outta your fucking mind.”

“Oh, yeah?” it snapped. “Try spending an eternity in hell, vamp, and see what it does for your mental stability.”

“Where are the women and children?” Quinn’s question drew the Death-Walker’s attention. “The bodies out on the road are all males.”

“That’s because this village, while human, has ties to the Shaevan clan through a marriage. They keep a constant lookout for things that prowl the night. When they saw we were coming, it was the men who came to fight. But most were too weak for our needs. The strongest…well, you can see for yourself.” It sent a pointed look toward the villagers.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Quinn snarled, forcing the words through his clenched teeth. “Where are the children?”

With wide eyes, it asked, “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Oh, hell no,” Gideon growled, while the rest of them cursed.

“Where are they?”

It laughed, the moonlight glinting off its bald, misshapen skull. “Why would we want baby soldiers?”

“You murdered them?” Quinn seethed, sounding ready to kill—and Seth knew exactly how the Watchman felt.

In response to the question, the Death-Walker’s jagged teeth flashed in a taunting smile.

“That’s it. Talk time’s over,” Ashe muttered, pulling a small vial from the front pocket of his jeans. “Everybody move back. I’m done with this fuckhead.”

“What is that thing?” Seth asked, releasing his hold on its neck and stepping away with the others.

“After going up against these bastards in the Wasteland, I decided to try something new. This is a modified sparkler—a weapon that can be used to kill rogue
Deschanel.” Sliding a wry smile toward Seth, the vampire added, “One we’ve made sure the Collective never learned about. It won’t harm any of us, but I’m hoping that the combination of the blast and the salted holy water will be enough to kill this asshole.”

“You really think it’ll work?” Quinn asked him, casting a doubtful look at the innocuous glass vial.

Ashe rolled his shoulder. “Nah, but it’s worth a shot. Until we discover a way to kill ’em, we’ve got to keep trying new things.”

Raising his clenched fist high in the air, the vamp hurled the vial against the ground, and to Seth’s surprise, it detonated in a massive explosion of power and sound, and what had to be close to fifty gallons of salted holy water slammed against them with enough force to knock them all on their asses. Wiping the water from his eyes, Seth watched as the Death-Walker writhed against the wall, violent screams pouring from its throat, its skin melting like rivers of wax trailing down the sides of a candle. The handcuffs slid off its wrists, dropping to the ground, and it bent forward, curling its arms over its head, fragments of skull showing where the skin had been burned away.

“This isn’t over!” it screamed, and in the next instant, it shot straight into the air, disappearing into the starry night with a furious burst of speed.

Scraping his wet hair from his face, Gideon was the first to break the shocked silence that followed with an eloquent, “Shit.”

“I guess it pisses them off,” Quinn said. “But it doesn’t kill them.”

Standing up, Seth walked over and scooped his handcuffs off the ground. “Might not have killed it, but it
won’t be coming after us anytime soon. Should give us enough time to get to where we’re heading without any trouble.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Quinn murmured, pushing himself to his feet.

“Yeah?” they all grunted in unison.

“This plan the Death-Walkers have to create chaos among the clans…” The Watchman rubbed at the back of his neck. “If that bastard wasn’t lying when he said this village has ties to the Shaevan, then that means the clan is going to be protective of those who live here. And the Death-Walkers have made it look like those corpses out on the road were Deschanel kills.”

Ashe cursed. “If the Shaevan find out, they’re going to be looking for revenge.”

Quinn nodded. “Which is exactly what the Death-Walkers have been after all along. They want to turn the clans against one another, and with the Watchmen busy fighting a war, we’re not going to be able to keep the peace. The conflicts are going to escalate. Especially now that they’re targeting humans, as well.”

Seth shoved his hands into his pockets, saying, “And if that happens, things are going to become harder to contain. If we’re not careful, there’s a damn good chance the media’s gonna catch wind of something it shouldn’t.”

“Not to mention what could happen if the Death-Walkers keep making their gruesome little army of human zombies.”

“There’s no telling how bad this could get.” Gideon’s voice was rough. “The world’s not ready to know about the clans. Jesus, they can’t even handle different belief systems. What do you think they’d do if they knew there
were nonhumans walking among them? We’re talking a war of biblical proportions.”

“We need to get word out, warning the others of what’s coming,” Quinn said. “Not all of them will listen, but we need to do what we can.”

“Not to change the subject,” Garrick called out, “but we still have the
Dawn of the Dead
crew over here.”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Quinn asked, “Got any ideas?”

Seth shook his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Ashe, you got anything?” the Watchman asked.

“A headache,” the vampire muttered. “But that’s about it.”

They spent the next few minutes discussing what to do with the “infected” villagers, and finally agreed that they should learn more about what had been done to the men before trying to kill them, in case there was a way for the victims to regain their humanity. Quinn made a call to a nearby Watchmen unit that agreed to guard the so-called
Infettato
as well as take care of the bodies out on the road. When the last of the zombies had been herded into one of the village barns, Garrick barred the door, locking them inside. Then everyone stood silent and still beneath the heavy weight of the chilling darkness, listening for any sounds from inside, but all they could hear was a low, eerie groaning noise that made Seth’s skin crawl.

“Those poor sons of bitches,” he muttered, surprised by how easy it had been to trap the villagers in the barn. They’d been disoriented, their muscles too weak to make them a danger to anyone. But he didn’t doubt they would
grow stronger with time, just like the Death-Walker had claimed. “Think they’ll try to fight their way out?”

“Who knows?” Quinn responded, sounding tired. “But to be safe, we’ll wait until the unit’s here before heading out.”

Propping his shoulder against the ancient barn, Garrick asked, “And then what?”

“We keep to the original plan,” Ashe answered, “and meet up with Kierland and the others in the Wasteland.”

“And after that?” the soldier asked.

“We just keep doing what we’ve been doing,” Seth told him, hunching his shoulders against the brutal wind, the cuts in his leg starting to hurt like a bitch.

“And what exactly have you been doing?” Gideon asked, lifting his brows.

With a grim smile, Seth met the vampire’s curious gaze. “Whatever the hell it takes to survive.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Casus/Kraven compound, the Wasteland
Tuesday afternoon

T
HEIR TIME HAD RUN OUT.

Ever since Raine had told him that Gregory DeKreznick was coming for Westmore, Kellan had been hoping the Casus would hurry up and make his move, so that they could use the attack as a diversion while making their escape. But they couldn’t wait any longer. That morning, Raine had let him know the Casus was finally closing in on the compound…and that he wasn’t alone. According to the psychic, there was a shadowy presence traveling with Gregory that she hadn’t caught before and couldn’t get a clear read on. Kellan didn’t like this new development, uncertain what it meant for Chloe…or how it would affect Raine’s ability to keep a “read” on Gregory, and it had put him even further on edge.

Then there’d been the visit from Westmore.

It’d happened an hour or so after Raine had told him about Gregory. He’d been pacing the floor, trying to work things out in his head, when Westmore himself had suddenly made an appearance. Though Kellan had expected him to be a big brute of a man, the guy was actually quite average in appearance, his build slight, his head not even reaching Kellan’s shoulder. But what
the bastard lacked in stature, he more than made up for in sheer, perverse evil. With pale brown hair and ruddy cheeks, Westmore could have passed for any human male walking down the street—but he wasn’t human.

And he wasn’t Casus, either.

Despite his determination to see the monsters freed from Meridian, Westmore wasn’t one of them. He was actually a Kraven, the offspring of a Deschanel female who’d been raped by a Casus many generations ago, before the clan’s imprisonment. Viewed as an abomination by the Deschanel, the Kraven had been kept a secret for centuries, their existence only recently revealed to the Watchmen.

From the moment they’d first learned of his plans, Kellan and his friends had wondered exactly what Westmore hoped to achieve by bringing back the Casus, but his goals remained unclear. The Deschanel had been the Kraven overlords for centuries, and some thought that perhaps the Kraven had decided to trade the “protection” of the vampires for that of the more powerful Casus. It was no secret that the Kraven hated the vampires, who regarded them as little better than slaves. But if that was Westmore’s plan, Kellan had no doubt he was going to be sadly disappointed, considering the Casus cared for no one but themselves.

Of course, if Kellan ever actually got his hands on Ross Westmore, the guy was going to be more than just disappointed; he was going to be dead. And after what he’d heard that morning, Kellan was ready to make the event as slow and as painful as possible.

When the Kraven had first come down to the cellblock, Kellan had feared that Westmore had come up with some new plan to “feed” Chloe. But that hadn’t
been the purpose of the bastard’s visit. Westmore had basically come to gloat, and his news had left Kellan chilled to the bone.

Instead of saving Chloe for Anthony Calder upon his escape from Meridian, Westmore had decided to placate the pissed-off Casus leader with an early gift—that gift being
Chloe
. The Kraven was actually going to try to send her into Meridian during the full moon on Wednesday night. Westmore believed that if he could transport Chloe directly into Meridian, then Calder would be able to use her murder to acquire enough power to fully regenerate, negating his need for a human host once he returned to this world. He would rape her, then consume her flesh, all for a power kick. And the harder she fought him, the more power the sick son of a bitch would take from the feeding.

Just the thought of it made Kellan’s fangs burn to be released, his claws pricking at the tips of his fingers.

Can’t let it happen. Won’t let it happen….

Determined to do everything he could to keep her safe, Kellan had finally settled on a plan of action, which was why he’d just sneaked back into Chloe’s cell a few minutes ago. Expecting her to be a nervous wreck, he’d frowned when he found her sleeping, knowing her exhaustion was a bad sign. The Merrick was obviously wearing her down, draining her more with each hour that went by. After what they’d recently learned from Westmore, she should have been far too anxious to sleep.

Standing beside her cot, Kellan eyed the silken tangle of dark hair spread out over her pillow, and couldn’t deny that he wanted to touch it, caress its silken warmth, sift those gleaming strands through his fingers. Her palm was curled innocently in sleep beside her face, and he
stared…unable to do anything else. He wanted to kneel down and lay his cheek against her pale, perfect skin. Breathe in a deep lungful of her warm, precious scent and let it ease him, relaxing the tight clench of tension and fear that had his insides twisted into knots.

How did she manage to look so beautiful in the middle of such a nightmare? Words bottled up in his throat, choking and dry, fighting to be said. There were so many things Kellan wanted to tell her. Crazy, possessive things that he’d never said to anyone before. But they were words that had no place between him and this woman. Ones better left locked inside, where they couldn’t complicate what was already one hell of a shitty situation.

Damn it, what was the point in making promises he would never have the chance to keep? And even if he wasn’t running out of time, he would still have had a battle on his hands, convincing her he was worthy of her trust…much less any kind of deeper emotion. He would have had to fight tooth and nail just to get her to believe in him once she’d learned about the vile, inexcusable mistakes he’d made. The danger he had put his friends in. And yet…it was a challenge he would have gladly accepted.

Impossible to explain how furious it made him that he didn’t have that choice, and as Kellan clenched his fists, he found himself wishing that fate were a physical thing he could get his claws into, ripping it to pieces, just like it was doing to him.

For months now, he’d been jealous as hell of what his friends had found, wishing he could find it for himself. That sense of rightness and peace, knowing that no matter what life threw at you, you were no longer alone.
Yeah, he might have been surrounded by family and friends back at Harrow House, but they hadn’t been
his
. Most of them had already found that one perfect woman who could make them complete, and had become a part of something new. And now that he’d found the same thing, he couldn’t have it. Couldn’t have
her
. Fate was just taunting him, damn it. Playing with him. And it pissed him off.

But I can have this
, he thought, running his gaze over the sweet, feminine shape of her body beneath the coarse blanket. He
had
to, because there was no longer any question that she needed to build her strength. That they no longer had the time to wait.

Kellan hated the danger he could still pose to her if he failed to control his wolf, but he felt oddly comforted by the fact that the beast was now as worried for her as he was. The animal had been stunned by what they’d heard from Westmore, its feral hunger not softened, but now matched by its fear for her safety. Not a better situation…but perhaps one he had a chance of controlling. Both animal and man understood that the stakes had just been raised. Now the escape was going to be even more dangerous than he’d feared, which meant that Chloe was going to need to be as strong as possible.

And God forbid, if something happened and they got her away from him, Kellan needed to know that he’d given her every advantage she could have against these bastards, so that she could kill them before they killed her.

So let’s do this thing
, the wolf growled.
Let’s give her what she needs.

With his heart beating to a hard, painful rhythm, and
his pulse thrashing in his ears, Kellan reached down and touched the side of her face. “Chloe, honey. Wake up.”

She moaned, nuzzling her cheek against his palm, her breath soft and sweet.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lowering himself to his knees beside the cot. “Come on, kitten. Open your eyes.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and then he was staring into luminous pools of deep, smoky gray, her lashes thick and dark, casting shadows against her cheeks. “Kellan? What are you doing over here?”

“You know, you’re always asking me that same question.”

The corner of her mouth twitched with a soft, sleepy smile. “That’s because I keep telling you to stay away.”

He forced a grin, but she must have been able to sense the tension thrumming beneath his surface, because she asked, “What’s going on?”

“Come on, Chloe.” His voice roughened as he said, “You know why I’m here.”

She blinked, and her eyes went wide. “I do?”

“You heard what Westmore said today.” His voice was unsteady, a rough edge to the words that made him sound more guttural. “We’re going to have to go ahead and make our move tonight, fighting our way out. There’s no other way, and I need you…I need you strong for that.”

Her eyes went even wider. “You mean…”

“Yeah.” She started to say something, but he pressed his fingers across her lips. “Please,” he whispered, “just hear me out. I know I started out fighting this tooth and nail, but only because I thought it was best for you. I
still don’t think I’m fit to touch you, and before you ask, we’re not going to talk about why. The truth is that what I think doesn’t matter anymore. This
has
to happen.”

“But—”

He cut her off again, a grin kicking up the corner of his mouth as he said, “Don’t even try it. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you can’t argue with a guy on his birthday?”

She snuffled a soft laugh under her breath and looked away, her profile beautiful in the hazy glow of the fire. “I’d forgotten,” she said in a quiet voice. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he rasped. “But don’t even think about calling me old.”

Another soft laugh, and she brought her gaze back to his, staring so deeply into his eyes, he felt like she was trying to see into his soul. “Are you sure you want to do this, Kell?”

It would have been impossible to hide the lust that thickened his voice, so he didn’t even try. “I’ve wanted to do this for what feels like forever.”

Kellan could tell she didn’t believe him—that she was thinking about that bloody curse—but she was going to understand just how hungry he was for her the second they got started. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make sure this woman understood exactly how much he wanted her.

“What’s Raine doing?” she whispered, her breath starting to come a little faster. A rosy flush of color warmed her cheeks, her heady, provocative scent filling his head, rising with the heat of her body.

She was waiting for an answer about Raine, and he somehow managed enough brain function to scrape out,
“She’s put herself in a light trance, since it’s going to be a long night.”

With a careful brush of her fingertips against his bruised cheek, she whispered, “You’ve had a heck of a birthday, haven’t you?”

“It’s getting a helluva lot better,” he rumbled in a rough, husky slide of words. Taking hold of the blanket, Kellan shoved it to the side, needing to see her body…desperate for her sweet, delicate curves. Her eyes closed as he reached for the buttons on her shirt, his breath quickening as he swiftly got them undone, pushing the sides apart and pulling down the cups of her bra, revealing all that smooth, pale skin and her perfect breasts.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he groaned, leaning down and touching his tongue to a tight, plump nipple. Her back arched as he drew the pink bud between his lips, sucking and licking, wanting to eat her alive. Her legs moved restlessly against the cot, her hands tangling in his hair as he moved to the other breast, working the succulent tip against the roof of his mouth, her throaty cry making him see red.

Ripping off her panties, Kellan lifted her into his arms and turned to sit down on the cot. Her eyes opened as he pulled her over his lap, cradling her shoulders in his left arm, his right hand settling low on her belly. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to—”

“Shh. Just let me take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” She choked out the words, “I thought we were going to have sex!”

Settling his hand on the inside of her thigh, Kellan shook his head. “I’m worried I might not hear someone if they come down here. I need to try to stay as focused as possible. But I can still give you what you need.”

She started to argue, but he cut off the words again, this time with his mouth, swallowing the sounds as he slid his tongue deep, rubbing it against hers. Her taste jolted his system, lush and sweet, and he kissed her harder, nipping at the tender swell of her lower lip as he whispered, “Open your legs for me, Chloe.”

She trembled, but she did as he said, parting her thighs, revealing her glistening sex, and Kellan’s breath hissed through his teeth as he spread her open with his thumb and his forefinger. He stared, rapt, his breathing becoming rougher as he studied all the deliciously pink, delicate details—and that was when he felt the Merrick rising within her, its power blasting against him like a hot wind, searing his flesh. Her eyes opened wide, and he could see her fear as she struggled to cope with the Merrick’s presence, the sensation of having it there inside her probably more like his wolf than he would have guessed.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking his fingertips against her soft, slippery folds. “It’s going to be all right, Chloe. Don’t fight it. We’re gonna give the Merrick everything it needs.”

Moaning, she arched herself against his hand, her legs spreading wider as he touched that most intimate, exquisitely tender part of her. She was hot and slick, and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to be gentle as he pushed inside, sinking one long finger into her. “
So tight
,” he groaned, carefully pulling his finger out. It gleamed with her juices, and he pushed in two, working them into her while he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing the swollen little knot of nerves in a slow circular motion that pulled a husky cry from her throat. “You got those little fangs out?”

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