Author: J.D. Tyler

For several long moments Jax was still. Then his body began to shake, and a soft moan of distress passed through his lips. Suddenly he fell backward with a cry, and Zan caught him from behind, steadying him.

“I’ve got you.”

Before Jax could protest, Zan sent gentle waves of healing energy into his friend’s system, cleansing the bad remnants of the memories and chasing away the exhaustion. As he finished, a dull throbbing began at his temples and crept to encompass his skull, and he knew it would get worse before it went away. But he’d do it again and again, to take care of his brothers.

Jax pulled away and turned to glare at him. “You shouldn’t do that when you don’t have to. Save your energy.”

“Save your breath,” he countered. “The day I can’t heal, you can put me in the ground.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.”

Looking frustrated, Jax let the subject go for the moment. He hadn’t heard the last of it, however. His friend was like a dog with a bone when it came to making sure the people he cared for stayed safe.

“What did you learn?” Zan asked, changing the subject.

“I saw how he died. Lived it.” He shuddered. “It was horrendous, what he suffered. They played with him, enjoyed causing him pain and . . . fuck, you don’t want to know the details.”

“What about the vamps themselves? Did you see any of them?”

“Yeah. There were two who killed the victim, but there were more hiding deep in the woods. Of the two, one was younger, blond, maybe early twenties when he was turned. The other was a few years older, brown hair, tall and slim, sort of dirty. I didn’t get names.”

Zan helped his friend to his feet. “You did good.”

“It’s not enough. I don’t have a sense of whether they’re still around.”

Nick made sure Zan was looking at him before he interjected. “They are. I don’t know how many, but they’re here. Waiting.”

“For what?” Zan asked.

“Us, maybe? I don’t know. But I do know we have to go after them.”

That was creepy as hell. Especially since Nick frequently knew things about the future that he either couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell them. He didn’t believe in interfering with free will or tampering with the future. Rumor had it he’d once tried to change a terrible outcome, with disastrous results.

None of that mattered at the moment. Any of them would follow Nick into hell on his word alone. The Pack waited as he told the disgruntled Feds that he was taking charge of the body and removing it. Unbeknownst to the suits, the dead man would wind up at the Pack’s top-secret compound being studied from head to toe for any clues they could glean about the rogues. Eventually, the body would be released to the man’s relatives, if there were any.

They split up into twos and threes to search the woods, spreading out. Zan found himself walking with Nix and Micah, which was fine by him. It was good to work alongside his old buddies again. He’d missed them even more than he’d realized.

Keeping a sharp eye out, he studied his surroundings despite his growing headache. It was strange not to hear the birds in the trees, the crunch of leaves underfoot. No wind, no voices. Just the steady presence of his companions. He had his knife and laser gun, not to mention his wolf’s teeth and claws. He could do this after all. Be a contributing team member still.

It was that exact moment when things went to hell.

A rush of air and a scrape on his neck was his only warning as a body barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. He had a split second to realize Nix was the one who’d shoved him—saving him just in time from having his throat ripped out by the razor-sharp claws of a rogue vampire.

And now Nix was fighting for his life.

Zander unsheathed his knife and threw himself at the rogue, just as more of them emerged from the trees and flew at them like the hollow-faced horrors they were.

Two

Change was coming.

Nick could feel it all around him. In his bones, seeping into the rapidly darkening recesses of his heart.

Nothing remained the same forever, and today marked a vital turning point. A period of trial for all of them. More than that, he knew death was rushing for him on swift wings, reaching out with cold talons to tear out his heart and bear him away. The end wouldn’t come today, or tomorrow. But all too soon.

He wouldn’t submit to the darkness without a fight. But even he couldn’t see whether he would survive.

A shout interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced in its direction. Beside him, Aric whirled.

“What was that?”

His question was followed by more shouts, and he quickly stripped, leaving his weapons with his clothing. His wolf could cover the distance much faster than his human form. Aric did the same, and they took off.

It seemed to take forever to reach the location of the fight, which became louder and louder as they sped through the trees, but it was probably just a minute or two. Even that was too long.

As he and Aric burst over a small rise, he spotted the onslaught of rogue vamps that had put Zander, Phoenix, and Micah on the losing end of the battle. Nix was lying on the ground, pressing a hand over his bleeding throat, as his companions swiftly became overwhelmed by six of the enemy.

Fuck!

Five against six wasn’t terrible odds, normally. But Nix was hurt and these rogues weren’t typical. Sending up a prayer that the rest of the team had heard the fight as well, he threw himself into the fray.

Zan grabbed the vampire attacking Nix, buried his fingers in the bastard’s greasy hair, and swiped the bowie knife across his throat. He made the cut so deep he nearly decapitated his opponent, then took him down to the ground and finished the job.

There was no time to gloat. He barely had time to take in Nix struggling to get up and failing, before a body slammed into him, knocking him backward. The back of his head smacked hard earth, and pain exploded in his skull. Before he could move, the rogue grabbed his hair and yanked him up, pulling his head back to expose his throat. Zan struggled, trying to break the vampire’s hold, but the creature’s strength was unreal.

“Fuck!”

He was pinned like an insect to a corkboard. The rogue grinned, showing off bloodied fangs, and then lowered his head. Zan sucked in a breath, fully expecting to feel the razor-sharp teeth ripping out his throat, and suddenly the vampire was jerked away from him.

Aric, back in human form, threw the rogue to the ground, quickly extending a hand. Fire shot from his palm, and the bastard writhed, screaming as he burned. Zan grimaced at the gruesome sight and then turned his attention back to the fight. The rest of the Pack burst through the trees, and the threat was dispatched.

Except for one. Nick shifted back to human form and shouted something at Kalen just as the Sorcerer leveled his magical staff at the last vampire, stopping him from executing the creature. Kalen made a face, clearly unhappy at the order, but raised the staff and made the rod vanish with a flick of his hand. Instead of killing the vampire, he uttered a few words Zan couldn’t make out—probably a spell in Latin—and the creature’s hands were immediately bound behind his back with a silver chain. For good measure, Kalen added a wide strip of duct tape over the rogue’s mouth.

“Can’t have him getting anyone with those teeth,” he snarled.

Jax gestured to the bodies of the captive vampire’s five companions, and Zan caught his words. “They’re not burning in the sun like they’re supposed to. What should we do with them?”

Nick pushed a hand through his hair and stared at them. “Take the bodies back for study. This one will be our guest in Block R. We’ll give him the opportunity to cooperate.”

“You really think he can be rehabbed?” Zan asked.

Nick shot the rogue a doubtful look, and the vamp sneered back at him. “I won’t hold my breath, but we’ll see what the tests show.”

Beyond Nick, Zan saw Rowan shouting and waving her arms at them. She was crouched next to Nix, who was sprawled on the ground, unmoving, as Noah examined him. Her face betrayed her panic, and Zan pushed to his feet and jogged over to them. Kneeling, he gazed at the ragged wound on Nix’s throat and cursed under his breath.

Rowan reached over their fallen friend and grabbed his arm to get his attention. “Can you heal him?”

Zan nodded. “Yes.” Without his full strength, he was walking a fine line, and he knew it. So did Jax, who skidded to a stop next to them and squatted beside Zan.

“You’re not healed enough for this.”

Noah’s face was etched with fear. “Jax is right,” he said, his voice cracking. “You’re still recovering and—”

“And he’ll die if I don’t.” Zan met each of their gazes steadily. “There’s never a choice for me. You all know that, so let me work.”

Noah looked relieved and worried at the same time. Jax’s jaw clenched, and frustrated anger clouded his eyes. But then he looked down at Nix and, sighing, moved back to give Zan room. The others did the same, except for Noah, who remained kneeling on Nix’s opposite side.

Nix’s eyes were closed, long blond hair fanned around him as Zan laid a palm over the torn flesh. If he had any remaining doubts about putting himself in jeopardy to save his fallen teammate, they were dispelled at the sight of Noah mouthing the word “please” repeatedly.

This is my fault. Nix saved me from the vampire because I couldn’t hear him coming. The knowledge stabbed him in the gut, urging him on. Closing his eyes, he found his center and set to work.

Nix’s throat was a mess. The tissues were shredded, and he had a tear in his windpipe. By some miracle, the jugular had escaped being severed, or he’d be dead already, wolf shifter or not. Still, there were plenty of vessels to repair. Carefully, he drew forth his healing light, sending gentle waves of it into the torn area.

Starting with the man’s airway, he closed the hole and was satisfied Nix could now breathe easier. Then slowly, he knitted together the myriad vessels, a tedious task since each one had to be repaired individually.

He didn’t know how long he worked. One after another, he sealed the leaking veins and cleaned the area of blood. Another and another, working with complete focus until he was satisfied all of them were sound. All that remained was the outer skin, and that was simple by comparison. Underneath his palm, the flesh became whole and healthy again.

Opening his eyes, he started to say something—but was blinded by agony spearing through his skull. Crying out, he fell backward, warm blood streaming from his nose. The pain was so bad, he couldn’t see. Couldn’t talk.

Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, urging him to lie still. Attempting to comfort. There were soothing voices, too, but he couldn’t make out the words without seeing their lips. But it hardly mattered what they were saying when he was in hell.

Right where I deserve to be. Nix almost died, and it was my fault.

He knew what he had to do. There was no question now. That thought chased around in his brain all during the long trip back to the compound.

He had nothing left to offer the Pack.

Selene Westfall sat in a corner booth in the local bar called the Cross-eyed Grizzly, nursed her beer, and simply watched. Listened.

Humans were fascinating to her, never having been one herself. They might appear to be the same as her kind on the outside, but they were different in many significant ways. Humans were physically weaker, their bodies more fragile. Obviously, they didn’t have the ability to shift. And they were mortal.

Another weakness they possessed besides their physical limitations was their tendency to talk way too fucking much. Humans ran their mouths off about every damned thing in their lives, and to complete strangers at that. Perhaps a product of a world tainted with the overshare mentality of social media. Whatever it was, however annoying, their stupidity was often her gain.