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Extracting my fangs, I make quick work of snapping the man’s neck before moving on. It’s more kindness than the bastard deserves, but I have more important business to focus on right now.
In and out.
Get the witch and get back to the Elysian.
“Rune,” Fintan calls. He’s struggling with two wolves but steps out of their reach each time one of them tries to make a move. “Upstairs.”
Finn shoves a great silver wolf to the wall and spins to tackle the brown one.
I move to help him, but he shakes his head. “Upstairs,” he says again, more urgently. “Get her.”
With a snarl of frustration, Finn breaks the arm of the brown wolf and punches through the chest of the silver. He is more than capable of handling himself in a fight… so, I leave him to it.
Coming out of the dining room, I’m almost squashed by a body falling from above. I dodge out of the way just in time to watch the female wolf land on the bottom stair with her leg pointing in the wrong direction.
That’s gotta hurt.
“Yo, guys… a little warning next time.” I glance up to the second floor, expecting to see Sebastian or Leo jump down from above to finish the job, but no one is there.
Only a missing section of wood railing.
A moan draws my attention back to the she-wolf as she grabs her foot and wrenches it back into place with a sickening crack. “Fuck. That was pretty metal.”
She glares up at me, eyes glowing red to match the trickle of blood she spits onto the floor. Lucky for her, I’ve already satisfied my rage with the other wolf.
Besides, she is barely a threat in her current state.
Werewolves heal fast, but this one will stumble around for a few hours before her bones mend.
I step over her mangled body, but she refuses to lie down and play dead. She grabs the leg of my pants and digs her sharp claws into my shin. I try to shake her off, but the dog is determined.
“If you wanted a matching set, all you had to do was say so.” I wrench out of her grasp and bring my foot down on her good leg, crushing the bones beneath my boot.
She howls and rolls onto her side, no longer interested in me or my plans to go upstairs. Two shattered limbs will take some time to heal, even with her enhanced werewolf genetics. If she’s smart, she’ll stay out of the way and keep the rest of her bones intact.
With her dealt with, I take the stairs two at a time and continue my search for the kidnapped Sun Witch.
It doesn’t take much to locate her—all I do is follow the shaky, panicked breathing coming from down the hallway.
“There you are.”
Josephine Dumont whirls around clutching the broken leg of a chair in both hands. She thrusts them into the air between us as if that is supposed to keep me at bay.
How cute.
Her hair is a wild mane of pink-tipped ebony curls. Her dark eyes are wide and a little sunken, and she takes a step back, putting the huge antique desk between us. As if a piece of furniture is going to protect her against a vampire.
“Don’t come near me.” The witch’s voice shakes just as much as the makeshift stake she holds.
And no wonder. It looks like Egan and his pack have already done a number on the poor thing.
They’re not known to treat their Moon Witches particularly well, but harming a Sun Witch to this extent is an entirely uncommon thing.
This witch belongs to the vampires. Not the werewolves.
Josephine is covered in bruises and cuts—one of which has reopened—from her legs, up to her arms, and the left side of her face. The stench of blood, old and new, mingle together, washing over me and I fight not to let it affect me.
“I said don’t come any closer!” She adjusts her hold on the makeshift weapon when I take a step into the room, raising it poised above her head, ready to strike.
