Alpha Rising: Book 12 of the Grey Wolves Series Page 5

  “I’m so sorry you went through that,” she whispered.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. We went through hell, Sally mine, and we came out on the other side. Did we get burned? Absolutely. But we also came out stronger. They thought we could be kept from one another. They underestimated the mate bond. And we will get through this, as well.”

  Sally’s eyes were getting heavy. She didn’t want to sleep. She needed to stay alert, but she was also exhausted.

  “I’ve got you,” Costin told her as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “You need rest.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m old, remember?” He chuckled. “I can go without sleep for quite a while.” He must have felt her hesitancy because his wolf rumbled a growl. And then his wolf spoke. “Sleep, mate.”

  Sally’s lips turned up in a small smile. Costin could be bossy, but he had nothing on his wolf. She closed her eyes and pushed away the worry of their situation and let herself slip away. Costin beside her and their son close by gave her the comfort she needed.

  Chapter 4

  “I was willing to give him anything, do anything for him, be whatever he needed. But he tossed me away as if I were nothing, as if I wasn’t his own kind and someone who mattered to him. If it is the last thing I do, I will make Thadrick pay for scorning me. I will kill Jezebel, the witch that he dirtied himself with. I will have my revenge, and I don’t care what I have to do for it to happen. I’ll even join the Order of the Burning Claw if that’s what it takes.” ~Myanin, Djinn warrior

  “When you’re done I need you to take each of the rugs out and beat them. They haven’t been cleaned in half a century to be sure,” Lyra said. Lyra was the djinn elder Myanin had been assigned to after the elders had pronounced the judgment of her concerning her supposed betrayal of Thadrick. They claimed she was guilty of doing something horrible when all she had been doing was trying to protect one of her own, the man she loved. Loved, not loves. Or at least she wished that were so. She wished with everything inside of her that she could just turn off her feelings. Myanin wanted to purge her heart of every feeling she’d ever given to Thad, but that wasn’t how love worked. You couldn’t simply switch it off. She hoped the feelings would fade over time. But then, she’d loved him for more than a century. It had never faded, no matter how much or how little she saw him.

  “Did you hear me?” Lyra’s voice interrupted Myanin’s thoughts, bringing her back to the present. The very awful present. She’d been relegated to a servant. Her status as a veil guardian had been stripped. Her necklace that connected her to the elders had been taken, which was just another slap in the face as only warriors were given the necklace. Now she was beating rugs and serving the elders’ lunch.

  “What did you say?” Myanin asked.

  “Once you’re done beating the rugs, I have something for you to deliver to Synica.”

  It had been a week since she’d been assigned her new duties, and she’d yet to be let out of anyone’s sight. A week since she’d had her heart ripped out by the male she’d loved her entire life.

  “A guard will accompany you,” Lyra added.

  Bubble burst. She should have known better than to think they would let her have a moment's peace. Visiting Elder Synica’s home was not something she wanted to do with or without a guard. Synica could discern truth. The last thing Myanin needed was the powerful djinn elder touching her and finding out what she had planned. Myanin would just have to be careful not to let the woman get close.

  Myanin rolled up the rugs one by one and dragged them outside. “Who in the bloody hell needs fifteen rugs?” she muttered under her breath as she unrolled the first one and hung it on the fence in front of Lyra’s home. Myanin took the rug beater and began to pound it against the mat. With the first strike, a cloud of dust showered her, and she had to step back as the fifty years’ worth of dirt settled in her nasal passages and eyes. She coughed and waved her hand in front of her, attempting to clear the air. “Damn you, Thad,” she growled and attempted to wipe her face and spit the dirt from her mouth. When she finally felt like she could breathe and was no longer coughing in between each breath, Myanin took her shirt and pulled the neck up over her mouth. Then she stepped right back up to the wretched rug and began beating it again. There was a new kind of fervor to her movements as she let her anger channel into her task.

  One rug after another, Myanin beat them. And one after another, her rage built. She was a djinn guard, not a bloody servant. She was supposed to be protecting the veil from any enemies or dumb humans. Instead, she was taking orders as if she were an indentured servant with little to no value.

  “Not for long,” she whispered to herself as she continued to beat the filthy rug. There was no way in hell she was going to continue to be the prisoner of her own people. She would get free, and the goddess help Thadrick when that happened.

  Three hours, fifteen rugs, and two blistered hands later, Myanin was finally done with her task. The guard, Oto, walked a step behind her as they headed for Synica’s home. Myanin carried a wooden box. On the front was a dial with six numbers that individually rolled. Lyra had narrowed her eyes when she handed the box to Myanin and said, “Do not even bother to attempt to figure out the code.”

  As if she was stupid enough to try and break into a locked box with a guard staring over her shoulder. Then again, she’d been stupid enough to believe that Thadrick could love her back, so perhaps Lyra had reason to think her that dim.

  When they finally reached the elder’s home, Oto knocked on the ornate wooden door. The front of the door was carved with a forest scene. In the center sat the all-seeing eye. As if they needed a reminder that Synica was a seer who could not only discern the truth of a person but also see their memories.

  A moment later, the door opened. Synica, with her piercing green eyes, narrow face, and sharp chin, looked like a hawk ready to sink her talons into her prey. She was taller than Myanin by a few inches, so she looked down on her, literally. The elder’s hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, exposing her long neck. She was regal, holding herself like a queen, but she was also humble, which made Myanin dislike her more.

  Synica held out her hand. “It’s good to see you, Myanin.”

  She took a step back, away from the offered hand, and heard Oto grunt when she bumped into his chest. “Why?” Myanin asked. “Because you like hosting those considered traitors of your race?”

  Synica dropped her hand, and her eyes softened. “Because I am hoping to see remorse and a desire to change.”

  Myanin didn’t respond. She wouldn’t admit remorse to something she’d done for a good reason. She’d been trying to protect Thadrick, and she’d been punished for it. It would be a cold day in hell before she shook an elder’s hand and expressed the feelings Synica hoped to see.

  Myanin leaned forward and knelt down, all the while keeping her eyes on the elder, and placed the box on the threshold of the door. Then stood and took another step back. Oto must have learned his lesson because he was standing to the side instead of directly behind her. “There,” she said. “I’ve done what Lyra required. May I go now?”

  The elder’s eyes narrowed on her, as if she were attempting to perform her magic without touching Myanin. As far as she knew, Synica was not capable of such a feat. At least Myanin hoped she wasn’t.

  “You may go. I wish you well,” Synica said.

  Myanin turned on her heel and walked away, her strides quick as she headed back to Lyra’s home. She’d been forming a plan in her mind, and it was time to execute it. The sooner the better. If she waited too long, she ran the chance of Synica touching her at some point and finding out her secrets. Myanin could not let that happen.

  In the week that Myanin had lived with Lyra, she’d quickly discovered the elder’s evening routine. So far, Lyra hadn’t altered her behavior, which would make things easier.

  “Have you got my tea?” Lyra asked as Myanin entered the sitting room where Ly
ra sat for an hour after dinner. She drank tea and read while Myanin sat on a chair in the corner, waiting on whatever instruction Lyra might have for her.

  “Of course,” Myanin said as she placed the tray she’d carried on the table beside Lyra’s chair. As usual, the elder waited for Myanin to add the milk and sugar and then waved her off dismissively. Myanin retreated to her usual spot and tried not to look too eager.

  As Lyra sipped her tea, Myanin’s muscles tightened until she felt like a coiled snake, ready to strike. Nearly fifteen minutes passed before Lyra began to show the effects of the drug Myanin had slipped into her drink. The elder’s eyes started to close, but Lyra forced them back open. She shook her head as if trying to clear it. When Lyra went to put the cup down, she misjudged the edge of the end table, and the cup tumbled to the floor, shattering.

  “What…” Lyra began as she again forced her eyes open. She raised her head, but Myanin saw the strain in the woman’s face and could tell it took an effort to do so. When Lyra’s eyes met hers, realization stared back at Myanin. “What have you done?”

  Myanin’s lips turned up in a slow smile. “I did what needed to be done in order to get free. Even animals attempt to free themselves when trapped. Did you honestly think my survival instincts were not every bit as strong as a mere animal?”

  Lyra opened her mouth to speak, but the poison pulsed through her body, and she could no longer make her voice respond. She was effectively trapped inside of her body, unable to move. She slumped over in the chair until she finally crumpled to the floor.

  Myanin stood slowly and savored the moment. She walked over to where Lyra lay, staring up at the ceiling. “How does it feel to have your will taken from you? Unfortunately for you, that is not the only thing that will be taken from you.” She had a feeling if Lyra could speak, she would be cursing her.

  Myanin knelt down and placed her finger under the elder’s chin and turned her head so that she was looking into her eyes. “Now, your mind is mine. There is nothing you can do to stop me from taking everything out of that head of yours.” Part of her wished Lyra could speak because she really wanted to hear the other woman freak out. But it was better if she couldn’t make any sound. Drawing attention would seriously put a damper on Myanin’s plans.

  She placed her hands on either side of Lyra’s head and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted back to a time when she and Thadrick had been so close that he’d shared secrets with her—secrets she knew he wasn’t supposed to reveal. She specifically remembered the day he told her how to access information in an elder’s head, something that only the historians were supposed to know how to do. She could recall it as if it were yesterday.

  “Why would you tell me that?” Myanin asked him.

  Thadrick starred out at the lake. “Because I don’t think any one group of people should have that amount of power. There needs to be some who can have an advantage if the elders ever became corrupt.”

  Myanin frowned. “You think our elders could go dark?”

  He shrugged. “Everyone has the capability of evil. It’s simply one choice away from being good.”

  She pulled herself from the memory, not wanting to dwell on those words. Her current choices were based on the fact that her own race had turned on her. What was she supposed to do? Myanin pushed those thoughts away and then drew up the spell that Thadrick had taught her in order to access the memories. She spoke in the ancient language of her people, one that was only used during elder meetings. They spoke every language because they were the history keepers, but because of their time in the human world, they’d adopted the English language as the one they most commonly used. Many of the other supernaturals had done the same thing.

  But Thadrick had made it clear she needed to use the old language to invoke the power that lived inside of the elder. Once she was able to reach Lyra’s magic, she would be able to remove the protection around her mind. As Myanin spoke, she felt Lyra’s magic weakening and her own getting stronger. It took a little longer than expected, but suddenly she was inside of Lyra’s mind. She could see everything the elder had seen over the course of her long life.

  It was overwhelming, and Myanin had to force herself not to get caught up in all of the information. Instead, she focused on the most recent happenings. She pushed her will into the elder, seeking the knowledge she required. Myanin couldn’t stay in her own realm, so she needed to know what was going on in the supernatural and human realms before she just waltzed on out there unprepared.

  When she saw the history of the past couple years, she was shocked. The vampires and the Order of the Burning Claw … and the freaking elf king risen from the dead. Geez, she hadn’t realized how boring her life had been with all this going on outside the djinn realm.

  When Myanin obtained the information she needed, she released Lyra’s head. The woman’s eyes were barely open, and her breathing was shallow. Lyra stared up at her through the small slits.

  “You’re going to die,” Myanin said. “Just to be clear. I don’t want you laying here hoping that the toxin will wear off and you will be able to skip off to the rest of the elders.”

  Lyra, of course, couldn’t respond. She just laid there, barely breathing. Myanin, maybe a little twisted, stood up and watched as the elder continued to breathe slower and slower until, finally, the air wheezed out of her, and Lyra’s chest didn’t rise again.

  Once she was sure that Lyra wasn’t going to suddenly get up, Myanin walked over to her corner chair and picked up the pack she’d hidden behind it. She had food and some human money that she’d found in Lyra’s safe. The elders kept many different types of currency in case of need. But the money Myanin stole was United States currency because the veil she planned to take would lead her into an American city and straight into Thadrick’s home.

  It hadn’t been easy, but Myanin had managed to escape the watchful eye of the guards who were stationed around the main city of their realm, where all the elders resided. She made it to the veil and caught the guard on duty unaware. I never would have been so lax. The guy should seriously be embarrassed.

  Myanin took a deep breath, staring at the veil. She glanced over her shoulder and looked back at the place that had been her home for her entire existence. Myanin knew without a doubt she would never return. With a deep breath and a raised chin, she stepped through the veil and into the room where Thadrick had had the veil placed.

  His scent hit her immediately, and she felt the sting of his betrayal all over again. Myanin gritted her teeth and forced herself to ignore the painful feelings. She’d been burying them deeper and deeper. There was no place for sadness in revenge.

  She stood very still, listening for any sounds, but the house was empty. She couldn’t even sense him. It was obvious he hadn’t been here in quite a while. She looked around, unsurprised that the place was opulent. Thadrick had always indulged himself. He was spoiled and liked his comforts. Her eyes settled on the front door, and without another thought, Myanin walked over to it, opened it, and stepped out into a city she knew nothing about.

  “No biggie,” she muttered under her breath. “I got this.” At least she thought so, until she found herself surrounded by a group of males. She immediately dropped into a fighting stance and stared them down.

  “We weren’t expecting you,” the man directly in front of her said. His voice was rough, as if he didn’t use it very often. His hair was long and stringy, and his black eyes were sunken into his face. The man’s lips were so thin they almost seemed non-existent. His clothes were stained with… Myanin narrowed her eyes to get a better look at the stains.

  “Is that blood?” she blurted out before she could think better of it.

  The man shrugged. “Sometimes my dinner fights back.”

  That’s when it hit her. “Vampires,” she growled.

  “Give the djinn a cookie,” a voice said, three men down from the apparent leader.

  “You said that I wasn’t who you were expecting,” Myanin said,
deciding to ignore the baiting words. “Who were you expecting?”

  The vampire’s head tilted at an angle that was creepy as hell as a smile formed on his lips, revealing his sharp teeth. “You don’t have to play games, djinn. You know who lives here.”

  Myanin shrugged. “Maybe I like games.” She didn’t. “Maybe I like to play with my prey.” She did.

  “You think we’re your prey?” The vampire chuckled; his head still tilted oddly.

  “I think you have no idea who you’re dealing with.” Myanin pulled the double short swords that were on her back, concealed beneath her shirt. They came out with a satisfying sound of metal being rubbed against its scabbard.

  “You think you’re going to fight all of us?” a different vampire asked. He looked like he was one pint of blood loss from blowing away. He must not be very good at catching his prey.

  “I know I am,” Myanin corrected. “Less talking, more killing. I’ve got places to be.”

  The head vampire took a step back and then gestured to two of his peons. They moved toward her, dropping low and circling her, no doubt trying to take her back and front. They thought that would make her an easy opponent. They’d clearly never fought a djinn before.

  Myanin let the vampire who had been moving to her left take his position behind her, and the one directly in front of her grinned, as if they’d already won. She heard the vamp behind her move, and when his breath hit her neck, she bent forward. His body hit hers, and she wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, flinging him over her shoulder. As soon as he was on the ground, she ran one of her blades across his neck. Blood spurted out and the man gurgled. It wasn’t a death blow because she hadn’t decapitated him, but she was only just getting started.

  The other vamp ran at her. His hands sported long claws, and he hissed like a cat. Did that really scare people? As soon as he was on her, Myanin ducked down under his reaching arm, turned, and stabbed the short sword in her right hand directly into his spine. Apparently, taking out two of their little group was code for everyone to attack because the battle cry rang out, and they all ran for her.