Wild Night Road(23)

Not.
They stretched and lengthened, the top roundish parts spreading into funnel shapes. Another sound emerged, but this one sliced through the veils between the worlds, and Lilith felt it not in her body of bone and blood, but along the luminous fibers of her witch’s soul. It grated like a physical thing, and she knew if she stood here and allowed them to call power, she would die, and not only her body, but the second death.
From that end, there was no return.
A wave of blind terror swept through her. But she had not survived seven hundred years only to die like a dog on the street. She would not. Could not.
She would live, but if she intended to survive this night, she needed to do…something.
The demons floated closer, coiling and twisting like diaphanous snakes until the forms merged. Deep inside the murk, the two blobs of throbbing orange joined and formed an internal sun.
It flowed toward her, reeking of wet and rot and the grave.
Lilith ran and dove for Tasha’s abandoned shoe with its skinny blade of a heel.
She hit the ground shoulder first. Pain exploded through her neck as she rolled, scooping the shoe into her hand.
The cloud of impenetrable darkness descended.
She screamed the ancient curse again, her voice harsh and guttural and drove the stiletto into the pulsing orange heart of evil.
Blinding light flashed, followed by a powerful explosion that shook the ground and rattled windows in nearby houses.
Lilith curled into a ball and knew no more.






 
    Nine by Night: A Multi-Author Urban Fantasy Bundle of Kickass Heroines, Adventure,   Magic
    
 


 

CHAPTER TWELVE


Remy Lemarchal paced the length of the shabby banquet room counting the tan squares in the worn teal and burgundy carpet. Even though smoking had been banned indoors years ago, every footfall released a puff of dust that reeked of tobacco and grease and a thousand forgettable meals. How anyone stomached the glop that passed for food on land, he’d never know.
The crash of the waves against the shore was louder on this side of the bar and restaurant. The lure of the water tugged at his soul. Because Lost Legacy’s alpha had asked him to keep an eye on things, Remy hadn’t shifted at the last full moon. As a consequence, it had been more than seven weeks since he’d felt the soothing caress of salt water. Three more days before he could go home again.
He’d remained on land without shifting for longer periods in the past, but it was getting to him this time, and he didn’t know why. His skin felt dry, and his eyes itched and burned. Every morning when he woke up, it was with a jerk and a frantic gasp for air until he realized he was tangled in his sheets in his bed in his cabin at the Lost Legacy Preserve. He would stumble into the shower, crank the nozzle and let the needles of spray pound his body until his skin turned red, and he was ready to face another day on two legs.
He reached the far wall, pivoted and paced again.
Two hours gone, and no sign of Lilith.
He couldn’t guess what was keeping her, but his mind kept veering into what he’d have to do if she failed to show up. He didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to believe she’d do anything so foolhardy as renig on a deal with the Pacific Range alpha. She was a smart woman and a clever witch. Sometimes too smart for her own good, in his opinion.
Making an enemy of Gideon Black pretty much defined too-stupid-to-live.
He didn’t want to believe that of Lilith, but the alternative reasons for her continued absence all fell into the category labeled:  Working Some Angle of her Own.
He raked a hand through his hair and sighed.
Owen slouched in a chair by the window staring into space. Probably feeling sorry for himself, if Remy was any judge. Owen had been his first friend when he’d been sent to live among the werewolves as a curious fifteen-year old, and they’d been inseparable.
Things were different now nearly ten years later. Different for him in that he was responsible for the security of the pack and all who lived within the boundary of the Lost Legacy Preserve.
Little had changed for Owen.
Remy chalked it up to the fact that Owen had been protected by his brother from the rough-and-tumble for survival and status that most young werewolves endured. Living like an untouchable prince had led Owen to believe he could get away with anything. Take any female he fancied. Leave his mark where he willed and never face the consequences.
Lan acted like an overindulgent father instead of a brother, and now Owen was paying the price for his easy life.
He didn’t blame Lilith for targeting Owen. He’d meant what he’d said when he’d defended her. Owen White was a weak link in the Lost Legacy pack; her move had been strategic.