Chapter Thirty-Six
A boot that had seen better days appeared over the threshold, accompanied by the tip of a sword. The vampire slaver, stinking of fear, peered into the dark Temple interior, his gaze in Ahote’s direction. Slowly his eyes widened, but before he could backpedal, the hunter leaped forward, jabbing his claws into the vampire’s chest as if they were daggers.
Ahote dragged him deeper into the shadows where the vampire started screaming.
Kele turned her back on them, not interested in witnessing the carnage.
Leaning forward, Peder reached to touch her clenched hand, but a dart whizzed by his arm and he jerked back. “Fuck.” He snarled at no one in particular. “I’m tired of this.” His gaze pierced hers. “I won’t let them take me alive again.”
“Peder don’t—”
Too late—he charged out the doorway.
“Is he running away?” Ahote bared his teeth in a growl.
She slapped him across the back of the head since she couldn’t fathom that kind of cowardice from Peder. Not after everything she’d borne witness to in those slave pens. “Come on.” She didn’t bother using the stairs and jumped from the top straight to the forest floor. The impact rattled her teeth but she managed to clear the Temple without getting hit by a dart.
Ahote landed next to her with a grace she wouldn’t admit to envying. He used the jump’s momentum to carry him into a run that led him straight into two waiting vampires, knocking all the bloodsuckers head over heels.
She twisted around. Where was Peder? Then she heard the clang of a sword hitting stone followed by a howl of pain. “Peder!” He hadn’t left them—he’d gone to fight the vampires alone. Racing around the Temple, she almost tripped over a decapitated vampire body. The only way to kill them was beheading or tearing out their hearts. Peder really did mean to end this.
He stood in the clearing surrounded by armed slavers. Why was he still conscious? Had they run out of darts? That was the only explanation. He stood on all fours, the hair on his spine raised, and he bared his teeth as he loomed over the vampires. Even crouched in such a position, he could meet them eye to eye. And again, she was struck by how much he’d changed.
The shifter she’d first met would have crawled on his belly or hidden behind Ahote. Maybe even behind her. He had made her feel beautiful and desired. Something no male had ever bothered to try. His gentle nature and shy smile had melted her heart. The new Peder, the one leading the escape and fighting for their freedom, set her blood on fire. She could barely breathe for the swelling in her heart. It felt ready to burst.
It was as if the Goddess had heard her secret need for such a male and created him for her. He wouldn’t get away this time. She was a full-blown hunter and destined to be alpha. Peder might not realize it yet, but so was he. Her pack needed a strong, intelligent leader and she couldn’t think of a better male.
Peder kept his focus on Huan. She could smell the slaver’s fear from there.
She crept toward the group and added her growl to Peder’s.
The vampires closest to her jumped and spun pointing their muskets in her direction. They moved with confidence and pressed their backs to each other’s in a good defensive position. Obviously, they’d fought her kind before.
When a shifter and a vampire are pitted against each other in hand-to-hand combat, the shifter would always win. Add a firearm to the fight and it changed the odds. These weapons helped the vampires win the war—that and the inability of packs to work well together.
A scent drifted past her nose. So faint at first she had to inhale deeply a few times to be sure. Her heart raced as she searched between the trees.
Apisi.
The vampires had wasted most of their darts at the Temple, then used the remainder trying to stop Peder as he chased them through the forest. He’d gotten very good at dodging them. Still they managed to surround him before he could kill Huan.
Peder smelled both Kele and Ahote in the forest around them. The dark hunter should have used Peder’s distraction to take her back home. He snapped his teeth at the closest vampire, making him jump back a little farther.
The vampires carried muskets but hadn’t shot him yet. He was worth too much alive, and they knew it.
The breeze shifted direction and a sharp scent caught his attention so suddenly he stood straight up and looked past the slavers.
Sorin? His pack was here. Part of him wanted to howl in relief, the other tensed in fear. He didn’t want any of them getting hurt—or worse, enslaved.
Huan aimed his musket toward the forest. “Something’s out there. Go check it out.”
Two of his men broke away.
The slaver turned his weapon upon Peder. “Are you worth all this trouble?”
Peder took a step forward. “Of course not.”
The sound of bodies hitting the ground reached his ears and he gave Huan a toothy grin. From the way Huan paled, he must have heard it too.
“I’m not alone.” In feral form, his smile carried a meaning different than that in civil.
The other two vampires gathered closer together, back to back, their guns pointed outward. They left Huan out of their defense.
From between the trees, Sorin strode forward in his massive feral form, dragging an unconscious vampire in each hand. “They’re not dead.” He paused. “Yet.” He dropped them and rested a clawed foot on one of their chests. “Let him go and you can have your warriors back.”
Huan kept the musket pointed at Peder’s chest but glanced at Sorin. His eyes went big.
Sorin’s size and scar gave him a menacing appearance. Peder had seen the intimidating alpha roll in the sand of their den floor with the pups too many times to be affected until someone new reacted to him. “He might let you live too,” Peder whispered to Huan. “But I won’t.”
Ahote’s black furred body raced around the other side of the nervous slavers, and one of the vampires let off a shot.
“I said I wanted them alive,” Huan shouted.
“They don’t seem to want to come along nicely.” The one who’d shot aimed his musket at Peder.
While Huan faced his partners, Peder drew closer. He extended his claws then thrust both sets in Huan’s throat. They slid in flesh as if he were made of butter. His blood was much thicker and darker than a shifter’s.
Huan gurgled and a red bubble broke from between his lips. This seemed to break the spell holding Peder still. Using both sets of claws, he tore Huan’s head off his shoulders and tossed the remains away.
A shot rang out.
He flinched at the sharp noise.
“No,” Kele screamed and ran toward him with her arms extended.
Reflexively, he reached out for her as well.
The vampire who’d been aiming his musket collapsed to the forest floor next to his comrades, a nice-sized hole in his head. It wasn’t decapitation, but apparently close enough that he was dead.
Kele slowed and blinked at his body, then at Peder. Her muzzle trembled and she made a soft whine. “I thought—I thought he shot you.”
Benic rode into view. His vampire elite soldiers surrounded everyone, muskets raised and aimed at Huan’s men.
“About time.” Sorin crossed his arms. “I thought I was going to have to do all the work again.”
Benic bowed from the saddle. “You’re welcome, Alpha. Your gratitude always swells my heart with joy.”
Kele sat on the forest floor with a bone-jarring thump and shivered.
Peder knelt at her side. His heart was racing as it hadn’t when he’d faced Huan and his armed men. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m tired.” She shifted to civil form all of a sudden and buried her face in his fur. “I thought he had shot you,” she repeated against his chest. When faced with emotional and physical stress, sometimes their bodies reverted to civil form on reflex. Their civil bodies took less energy since they were smaller. It was never good for a shifter to run so low of energy.
He gathered her into his arms. “She’s exhausted.”
Ahote approached them carrying his backpack. “I have some blankets in here.” He pulled one out and wrapped it around her.
“Build a fire so we can make camp.”
The hunter nodded and began gathering wood while Peder settled Kele against a tree. He caressed her cheek. “Rest here until I’ve dealt with these slavers.”
She turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm.
He rose to his feet and came face-to-face with Sorin and three of his hunters. “Gather the slavers and secure them. We’ll take them with us.”
Sorin’s ears lowered and no one moved. He gestured to one of his hunters to do as Peder asked. Then Peder realized he hadn’t really asked.
Sorin pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “Susan and I have been worried sick.”
Peder tensed in his arms and struggled in his hold until he shoved Sorin away. Panting, he stalked into the forest. He had changed. Instinct cried for him to challenge for dominance but he wouldn’t do that to his friend.
Benic knelt by Kele, offering her some food from his backpack.
Peder snarled and lunged at him. She was his. The vampire had tried to steal her from him once and he wouldn’t ever let that happen again.
The bloodsucker fell away from Peder’s sharp teeth.
“Peder!” both Sorin and Kele shouted. Sorin laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Easy, hunter, he was just helping her.”
Peder ran his fingers over the thick fur covering his head. His shoulders were so stiff from tension he almost couldn’t reach. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “My apologies, Benic. I’m not well.”
Understanding flashed over Benic’s face. He’d seen what the slavers had done to him and to Nahuel, but the vampire only witnessed a fraction of it. Who was Peder now and where did he fit in a pack?
The vampire rose to his feet. “You’re home now. I’ll take these slavers with me.”
Peder’s head jerked at his offer. “They can’t be allowed to return to New Berg. They know too much already of our lands and people.”
Benic gave him a small smile that chilled his blood. “Don’t worry. They’re not going anywhere. I have a good use for them.”