Chapter Nine
Arriving over the state park, Kylie inexplicably felt a deep sense of loss. The Eastern sky now offered the barest of light. Enough that Kylie spotted the pine trees reaching up to the sky. Even with her vampire scent and speed, the park loomed so large, and her faith grew small.
But she wouldn’t let that slow her down for one second.
She pushed herself to fly faster, to cover more area. Taking in buckets of air to attempt to catch his scent, her chest expanded with oxygen and raw pain. Her lungs screamed No more! Her heart screamed Never stop.
Then the sound of growls and yelps of coyotes split the early morning dawn. As she drew closer, she first caught the scent of smoke. Then blood. Then . . . Lucas.
Lucas’s blood.
No!
She moved lower, zigging and zagging between the trees, dodging limbs, clinging to hope. Praying. Praying. Praying.
Her next gulp of oxygen caught another scent. Vampire. Vampire blood. Then another trace hit. Somewhere in the dense forest loomed another were. Maybe even two.
Friend or foe, she didn’t know.
Her gut said foe.
The growls and howls suddenly stopped, and she had to let the scents lead her. She cared not for the odor of the other weres, nor for that of the vampire. She sought only one. Lucas.
He needed her. She could feel it. Taste it. Knew it like a vampire knew how to fly, how a Were knew how to change with the moon, how a protector knew how to save.
She dipped down even lower, afraid she might miss him. Then she saw movement. There walking between the trees, she spotted two males. Her nose told her they were the weres. She heard their laughter and without knowing why, it incensed her. Fury coiled up inside her.
Had they hurt Lucas?
Then the mirthful sound ended. They stopped walking and looked skyward. Their scowls found her, and she scowled right back.
She passed them when Lucas’s scent led her away. She heard a howl. Thinking it was time she landed, she hit the ground with a loud thud. Her tennis shoes sank into the damp ground, mud rising up over the rubber soles.
She ran through the dead brush, thorns clinging to her red-checkered flannel pajama bottoms. Some speared through the fabric and sliced her skin. Ignoring the slight pain, she held her face high to follow the scent of the man she loved. Moving past a line of trees, she saw two coyotes. And they saw her.
They growled, bared their teeth, defending their ground.
She changed into werewolf quickly, hoping to calm their moods. One of the coyotes shifted, and she saw what they surrounded. Saw Lucas. Saw the blood oozing from his shoulder and from his head.
Time stopped as she took in the sight. He lay there, so still, so lifeless. She let out a cry and shot between the animals, prepared to fight if she had to.
She didn’t have to. They parted, and even bowed down as if they sensed she meant no harm. Dropping to her knees, tears slipping from her eyes, she began to pray harder. Hands trembling, she touched the base of his neck searching for a pulse.
His skin warmed her finger tips, but it lacked the true heat of were.
Pressing against his pulse point, she felt nothing. A moan that came from the very bottom of her soul echoed in the forest.
She rubbed her hands together, looked up, and pleaded for the healing heat. Then she gazed again at the boy, now almost a man, who had captured her heart when only a child. The boy who had protected her from bullies, whose smile and blue eyes had stolen her breath and never strayed too far from her thoughts through the years.
“You can’t die,” she said. “You can’t die.
“You. Can’t. Die!”
Her hands started tingling, growing hot. She pressed them to his chest, above his heart. “Come back to me. Please. I don’t know how to be me without you.”
She closed her eyes. Inhaling a calm breath, she pushed her panic back and brought to her mind healing thoughts. Images of love. Soft music. Energy.
The sound of dry twigs being crunched beneath someone’s feet sounded behind her. She didn’t stop. Didn’t move. She focused on healing. Even at the prospect of danger.
“You’re too late!” A deep, menacing voice spoke and caused the tiniest hairs on the back of her neck to stand and sting with warning. The sense of danger surrounded her.
Lucas was still not breathing. “Please!” she screamed.
Suddenly a hand latched on to her arm and yanked her away. She went to strike, to fight, to kill and forgot she held no power to defend herself—not with Lucas gone. As a protector she could only protect others. Her heart sank to the bottom of her rib cage. How could she have failed? How could she stop trying? She attempted to yank free to return to Lucas.
Roughly, her attacker swung her around to face him. Before she even got a good look at him, she felt his palm slap her cheek. The sting burned her face, her heart, and her soul. The powerful blow knocked her to the ground.
Refusing to give up on Lucas, she rose up to go to him, but before she found her footing, the werewolf had her again. Yanking her around, he put his face in hers. She smelled his sour breath. She saw his yellowed teeth. Saw his smile, not one of comfort or sympathy, but one that said he loved hurting others.
“Kill her,” an older-sounding voice spoke up. He moved in and Kylie saw him. “She is the infidel that caused it. It is because of you, he had to die.” His gaze went to the Were. “I said kill her!”
“As you request.”
The younger were’s free hand caught around her throat. He shoved her against a tree. His hold tightened. She felt her airway shrink, her tight tendons bruise, her knees give. Her lungs begged for air.
Her soul begged to live.
Black spots, like fireworks, flashed in her vision, blinding her from seeing her killer’s face. Was this it? Her next thought swept over her with comfort. Lucas would be waiting on the other side.
She welcomed the end, but then she dropped like dead weight to the ground, her knees hitting hard. Tiny sharp rocks cut through the flannel and into her skin. The fireworks stopped. Her vision cleared. She gagged, then blinked and saw her attacker sprawled out on the ground before her. Blood oozed from his lips. His head cocked to an odd angle. His neck had obviously been broken.
By who?
She attempted to pull air into her sore throat. Her lungs, still burning, refused the air, but she forced herself to move to Lucas. Praying she wasn’t too late. Then she saw him. Her hero. Her life mate. Not on the ground where she’d left him, but standing. Alive.
Joy opened up her throat and vanquished the pain in her heart. His eyes met hers, then he turned and grabbed the old were.
Lucas held him against a tree by his throat. “Why?” Lucas growled out the question.
“You are destroying the way of our people.” The man’s voice came out graveled, but his lungs still got air. “You are poisoning our ways.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” Lucas inched forward, and Kylie saw the old man’s face redden.
Forcing herself to her feet, she stumbled to him. “Lucas.” It hurt to speak, but her words mattered, so she forced them out. “Don’t. Let him die in jail. Killing him is too easy.”
Lucas’s gaze, orange and angry, focused on her. Yet faster than she drew her next breath, affection chased away the ugly emotion in his eyes. Even the brightness paled.
“You’re right!” He dropped his hand from around the old man’s throat. The were collapsed on the ground in a helpless heap that looked all loose skin and brittle bones.
Lucas wrapped his arms around her, held her so close that she absorbed his heat. His love.
She put her hand on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. Tears filled her eyes, remembering that only minutes before, death had taken him, that his heart had stopped.
“You brought me back, didn’t you?” he asked.
“I had to.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “I can’t live without you.”
He kissed her. The words, I love you, were whispered in her hair.
Before she could answer him, he jerked away and gazed upward. His posture changed. The rock-hard tightness in his shoulders accompanied by the bright glow of his eyes said he was prepared for trouble.
She pushed the soft feel of his kiss away and prepared herself to fight beside him. To die for the man she loved.