Davina (Davy Harwood #3)(54)

“It’s not time.” Roane shook his head, but he knew it was pointless. They were going. They had waited too long.

“It’s time, Lucas Roane, Hunter of the Hunters’ bloodline.” Christian spoke to him, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore. His gaze was directed beyond Roane’s shoulder and he turned to see all of the wolves there. They were waiting. Then, one by one, they began to change into their wolf form. When they were all done, they turned as one and formed a line. Two by two, they began to leave. Roane stepped back with Bastion and Wren. As they watched, Christian and Pippa transformed as well and followed their bloodline.

They were going to war.

Wren said, when they left, “It’s not enough. They’ll all die.”

Roane asked Bastion, “You sent your man?”

Bastion nodded. “I did.”

“Would he have had time?”

“I don’t know. I . . .” Bastion took a breath, hesitation on his face, but it cleared. He was the fastest of Roane’s men. “I could go, if you want me to.”

“What?” Wren’s head whipped around. “You are not thinking what I think you’re thinking. You are not leaving . . . are you?”

“I can go. He would be there by now, but coming back—”

They needed help. Roane realized that as soon as he saw how many Benshire wolves and Romah vampires there were. He had his own men, and he sensed them now. They heard the exchange. They knew the wolves were heading out, but they were waiting for their own leader. Roane didn’t want to send his men to fight. They would die. There were too many Romah vampires. They were older, and they had magic. Davy was their ace in the sleeve, but they couldn’t get to her.

“Roane.”

He glanced down to the ground. Wren spoke his name, standing beside him, and he knew why. He felt his men. They had come, standing not far, and he knew why they were there. It was the same reason they came on this journey with him. It was time to fight. It was that simple. The wolves, who had come to be their ally, were going. They would go to their deaths. They didn’t have Davy, but he couldn’t put it off any longer.

It was time.

He turned around. Wren turned with him. Bastion was on his other side. It was too late. If he sent Bastion, he wouldn’t get back in time. No matter what, the war was here and it had already started.

He spoke quietly, but every vampire heard him as he said, “We came to fight.”

The excitement and adrenaline filled the air. Each vampire was on high alert.

Wren said, “We’re ready.”

Roane nodded. “Then we fight.”

He turned and led his men to join the Christane wolves. So be it who fell and who lived at the end.





DAVY



She could feel the Mori. She knew exactly where they were, even the little babies in the mothers’ wombs, and she walked toward them. Her feet glided soundlessly over the forest as she kept moving forward. Davy walked and walked. She wasn’t aware of the time, the weather, even where she was. She could’ve been walking on a cliff’s edge and she would’ve kept going.

Everything was tuned out, except for the Mori.

The Mori meant more magic, more power. And as she kept going, she moved with a serene and ethereal quality to her. Gavin, Gregory, and Tracey followed behind. They were no longer guarding her. They were merely trailing now. It was as if they didn’t exist, and more than once the three vampires shared a worried look. This was a Davy that they didn’t know, and while the humans didn’t know the old carefree Davy, they reacted on a primal level to this new Davy as well. They were silent and had grown pale. Their bodies started to tremble from the exertion they were being put through. Showers erupted in the sky and drenched their group. The two humans shivered. They accepted blankets that the vampires offered, but when Cal’s teeth’s chattering overpowered the sound of his own heartbeat, Gavin knew they had to stop.

“Davy.” He reached for her. “We have to stop.”

A part of him felt she wouldn’t, but when she did, he was surprised. Some hope sparked in him. His senses were telling him she wasn’t human anymore, had slowly been transitioning in that direction, but since killing the Mori, he could see The Immortal’s power over her. As he stared at her, he could only see small traces of the old Davy.

Her chocolate almond eyes, that usually danced and laughed, were dead. There was no life in them anymore. Her cheeks, that would pink and plump up whenever she would grin at something Lucas said or if she was caught staring at Gavin’s best friend, they barely moved. The color was gone. A white, almost tranquil, glimmer had formed over her skin.