~
George raced across the mountain. His wolf felt fevered. The faster that he ran the worse it became.
It felt to him as if he was trying to outrun his own skin. His beast.
The darkness within him that was growing.
His brother was dead. He’d done that.
He’d killed his twin – his twin – his blood. His kin.
He’d killed a part of him. The one that had always been with him. Had grown in the same womb.
He ran as faster, faster, as fast as he could.
His claws dug into the earth and churned it up behind him. But he couldn’t outrun his fate.
It was coming.
Something dark from within and without.
He could feel it closing in on him. Like a shadow of darkness that fell across the land, across his heart, and his soul.
It was coming.
No matter how fast he ran – he couldn’t outrun his fate.
He’d triggered the curse. It wasn’t his fault. It had needed to be one of them.
One of them needed to die.
His brother would never have left it alone.
It was coming.
Hard on his heels. He could feel it in the air all around him…
He could feel it in his very soul.
It was coming.
The faster that he ran the more the fever grew. It touched his soul, burned…
He’d awakened the curse. It would rise up to strike them all dead.
It was coming for them all.
He couldn’t outrun it.
He couldn’t outrun fate.
His heart was pounding within his ears. His beast was done…
George’s wolf pulled up panting and gasping for air…
The beast craned its head back on his neck and looked up to the moon above. The red hazy ring that surrounded it … it looked like an eye…
George’s wolf padded towards the stream and dipped his head for a taste of the water. He noted the reflection of the moon in the fast running water, hanging above his head like a bad omen – that red rim seemed to be glowing – taunting him.
His eyes moved down to look back at his own reflection and his heart stopped within his chest at the sight of it –
His eyes shone red.
He’d killed his twin.
It had begun.
~
~
~
“Blood on the moon – that’s a bad sign…” Zana muttered to herself as she took the bend a little too fast and felt the back end of the bike kick out a little in protest.
Tough. She needed to make good time.
The curse had been triggered. The watchers had sent her on her way, and now she was climbing White Wolf Mountain on her way to slay the beast.
Zana didn’t much care who it was. They pointed the way and she took care of it – by whatever means necessary.
And this was necessary.
If the curse was to be believed, and she’d known a few to come true in her time, then the shit was about to hit the fan and Wolf Mountain was its kick off point.
She was in the hot zone.
Ground zero.
That was just how she liked it. Whether she was hunting rogues or saving the world, one shit demon at a time, she wasn’t the kind of person to sit on the sidelines and cheer.
Talk was cheap. Word had it that she might not walk away from this one. That was always the risk, and she was good with that.
There would be someone else to take her place. There always was.
Zana was expendable. She was a means to an end, but if her end came then she’d get a notary in some book somewhere – hell, she might even get a plaque on a wall, depending if they thought that she was worth the time and effort to create one.
She was good with that too.
There was no family, no picket fence, and no happily ever after waiting for her in the future, because she didn’t have a future. She had a right now.
She lived one mission at a time – she lived for the moment that she was inside, because the next moment might never come.
She was ready to die.
Dying was a part of life and everyone was heading that way in a long queue – it was just a matter of time as to when you reached the front of it.
Some were eager to jump the queue. That she considered a waste. She wasn’t in a rush to die, but she wasn’t going to hide from it either.
In her book – death was just a really good sleep. When the time came she might welcome it, but for then, she had a job to do.
~
~
~
Vicky turned to leave the archives. She was done for the day.
She knew to give up when her eyes started shooting across the page of their own accord and the words made less sense than they normally did. It was about that time…
The others had already left, gone home to their mates, and she needed a hot bath and food … and maybe a little time with Connor to get her blood pumping through her veins again.
She reached up and hit the lights off – the sound of a heavy thud behind her made her spin in place. She snapped out at the lights with her magic and illuminated the vast room…
Vicky scanned the area for signs of trouble. Perhaps a witch had gotten in without her noticing.
The only other supernatural being that could enter through the wards that the witches had placed around the room was Connor, and if he was playing some stupid, childish game with her – she’d present him with his crown jewels on a platter – smiling as she did it…
Nothing.
She reached out with her magic and tested the space for anything untoward. Supernatural in origin.
Nothing…
“That’s the trouble with books…” Connor’s voice boomed out from directly behind her and she whirled in place – shooting magic from her fingertips at the vampire, and causing every muscle in his body to contract so hard that he literally fell down like a puppet with its strings cut…
“Seriously!” Vicky bit out, snapping off her magic off, and slapping her hands on her hips as she glared down at her mate. “You bloody stupid fang monster!”
Connor groaned inwardly as his whole body burst back to life – like a flower in the morning summer sun … He cursed, he groaned, he relished sinking his fangs into her vein and drinking thirstily…
And then the red mist of his bloodlust lifted and he kicked his backside into gear, propelling himself back to his feet, and shaking off the last of her magic with a full body shiver…
“I had a fab day, honey, and how was yours?” Connor offered her a smirk, and she dropped her chin down and glared at him from beneath her eyebrows…
“Now is not the time to act the idiot…” Vicky announced, and Connor frowned.
“Hmm,” he rolled his neck on his neck, “how about now?”
“How about I shove your head up your backside?”
“Ok, if you promise to get pictures.”
“You scared the bejesus out of me!” Vicky snapped.
“That by definition is what a vampire is supposed to do…” Connor grinned, but he could see that his mate wasn’t playing around. Something had triggered her nervousness.
It wasn’t like she didn’t zap him on a regular basis. She did. But, usually it was done with love and not too much malice…
He was already on alert for anything in their vicinity that could be off…
“And a witch is supposed to slay a vampire – check the odds – things aren’t in your favour.” Vicky bit back as she dismissed him and turned back towards the room.
She had to admit, she felt better knowing that Connor had her back … something rubbed with a sound that reminded her of sandpaper against stone, and just as she cocked her head to listen harder, so she suddenly found that she was being spun around and ended up facing his broad back…
“Heard it too…” Connor said, holding up his hand to keep his mate silent – not that there was anything much in life that could stop Vicky from spouting her opinion…
He felt the magic dig to his back – and he was more than aware that she was about to try to sidestep him to his left to get a look inside the room – he swayed in that direction and heard her hiss in annoyance.
It amused him, even if he was ninety five percent concentrating on what was in front of him, but he knew his mate too well…
“Better not be a rat…” Vicky whispered.
“Tasty…” Connor offered back, and snapped his full attention towards that sound once more…
A heartbeat later and he’d shoved his mate out the door – slammed it in her face, and was across the room, before he’d even heard her curse…