Page 66 of Tethered Fates

“More are coming, Sen!” Luc growls. “If we don’t stop them, this spreads!”

“She could lead us to Summer!” I shout back as more undead burst up through the stairs, lumbering towards us.

“And if humans find out about supernaturals because of this, the whole fucking community will come down on us!” Luc pushes me away so he can swing his fist through the face of the undead I tossed into the wardrobe. “That puts Teagan at risk. My Golden at risk!”

Dammit.

He’s right. I want Emma’s head on a fucking stick, but the blood mage knew if someone came looking for her—friend or foe—she needed a backup plan in case things got ugly.

Emma is many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

And while the many supernatural leaders don’t give a rat’s ass about vampires and mages fighting, they’ll care if we shine a light on what’s supposed to stay hidden.

I let out a roar and dart past Luc, ripping the heads off the half-rotted undead crawling up from the holes they created in the stairs. Luc soon joins me.

The undead keep coming, tearing through the floor, groaning and crawling over each other. Viscous ribbons of rank drool dripping down their chins.

We tear through them fast—bones cracking, bodies dropping—until nothing’s left moving apart from my heaving chest as I swallow lungfuls of rancid air.

“I’ll need to burn everything I’m wearing,” Luc pants in the sudden quiet, lip curling as he looks down at his clothes, sodden with putrid gore.

Ignoring him, I vault over the bannister, landing in front of the door and ripping it open, but I don’t find a single sign of Emma. Cursing, I slam the door shut, my fingers running through my wet hair, littered with chunks of grey meat.

Luc casually jumps down in front of me, shaking his head like a dog, spraying flecks of blood. “This needs to be cleaned up.”

“No shit,” I grind out. “I think we’ll need more than a mop.”

“We’re going to need to call someone,” he replies with a bored kick to one of the unmoving corpses.

“Can this day get any worse?” I dig through my pocket to pull out my phone.

“It’s only 2 am, so probably.”

“Normally, I love your sarcasm, but right now?” I find the number I’m looking for, then bring my phone up to my ear. “It makes me want to add another body to the pile.”

After two rings, an obnoxiously familiar voice spills from the speaker. “Aren’t I a lucky wolf to hear from one of the Haraldsson boys so soon after I left you?”

“As much as I’d love to exchange snide pleasantries, Grey, we’ve got a problem that needs cleaning up.”

The Direwolf of Britain, who is one of the most well-connected and powerful supernaturals, lets out an amused sigh. “And I’d just finished my bedtime hot chocolate, too.”

***

An hour later, after I get out of the shower from scrubbing myself raw, I open the front door to a pair of eyes silver as the brightest moon, and a woman with dark hair slashed with white—Astra, the Blood Mage Sovereign and Emma’s sister.

Grey’s smile grows wide the second he sees us. “Thank you for dressing up on our account.”

I glance down at the floral culottes I’m wearing, then glance behind me at Luc, looking completely over this whole adventure in white dungarees with little love hearts.

Normally, I would play along with Grey, but my patience has thinned, and all I really want is to see Teagan. Even when I’ve made a decision that’ll mean hurting him all over again.

“Thanks for coming.” I move out of the way so Grey can waltz in, nose twisting at the smell, Astra following behind him.

“At least your stink of blood magic is, for once, covered up,” Luc comments by way of greeting Astra.

“Do you need to be reminded that I’m here to help?” Astra replies, looking around at the mess with a shake of her head. “Emma’s certainly been busy.”

“Can you clean this up?” I ask, tired in a way that’s bone deep.