Shattered Circle

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Johnny straightened. He squinted at the doc. The man’s actions were calm, tending his glasses as he always did. Did she talk him into killing her? It was a normal thing for the doc to do. For him, normal includes putting dying animals down gently.

“Her internal injuries were not survivable.”

Johnny stared with the intention of intimidation.

When the doc placed his glasses back on his nose, he saw it. “Unless someone does an autopsy, you won’t know for sure what the cause of death was precisely. My guess is massive internal bleeding from a gastrointestinal wound. She was in hypovolemic shock when I arrived, John.”

“Sire, a word?” Gregor interrupted.

Johnny nodded and Doc Lincoln walked away.

“I have programmed the address you gave me into the GPS on my phone. I’m leaving shortly.”

He listened to Gregor without looking at him. Instead his focus had remained on the veterinarian, who retrieved something from his truck and returned toward the crash site with it. Johnny had the distinct feeling it was a veterinarian’s version of a body bag.

“Sire?”

When Johnny heard that word, he realized Gregor had repeated it a few times. He tore his attention from the wreckage. “I need you to keep her death a secret for as long as possible.”

“Absolutely. May I ask why?” Gregor repeated.

“The longer this news is unknown, the safer my son is.”

Gregor nodded. “I’ve put Brian in charge. He’s made arrangements for a tow truck to come and is confirming whose land this is so that we may offer financial compensation for the damage.”

“And the body?”

“Will go into the back of one of our vehicles for transport. We will see that Ms. Romochka’s final arrangements are in keeping with her wishes.”

The phrase “final arrangements” were like knives twisting in his gut. If I hadn’t pursued her, she would still be alive. But if she hadn’t tried to kill Red, I wouldn’t have chased her.

His hands raked through his hair.

“The Omori can handle this. Perhaps you should return to Ms. Alcmedi’s house? I will tell Brian he can find you there if necessary.”

“No. I’ll stay here until—”

Gregor gripped Johnny’s arm. “It would be best if the Domn Lup were not on the scene when the others arrive.”

His ascension and subsequent press conference had made worldwide news a few days ago; his distinctive tattoos ensured that anonymity was unlikely. Without a word Johnny turned and walked to his car.

Red’s saltbox farmhouse was only a few minutes away, but those minutes passed slowly. His thoughts raced, circling around what Aurelia had told him of the key in her suitcase. He agonized over going to Red’s as Gregor had suggested, or rushing into Cleveland to ransack Aurelia’s room at the Renaissance Cleveland Hotel.

No. Aurelia had tried to kill Red. He had to check on her first.

She’d been through so much lately. Damn near all of it was his fault.

But she subdued Aurelia. He had to admit, that was impressive. Aurelia was—had been—a scheming woman who’d endured much to gain a high rank in the governing body of the wærewolves.

He pulled into the driveway and saw a car that hadn’t been there when he left. It was an Audi like the one Zhan drove, but this one was white. The license plate was FANG 12. It was from the fleet of cars Menessos’s haven owned.

Perfect. That’s exactly what I want to deal with now. Vamps.

He got out and headed toward the front door, but then slowed his steps. The main door was open. The screen door would let the cold air in. He’d left it open when he’d entered, but surely she would have closed it by now. It was pretty cold.

He eased up onto the porch.

From there he could see down the long hall. Red was sitting Indian style on the kitchen floor and her eyes were shut. If she was back, that must mean they found the kiddo. She seemed in a trance, though. He hoped she was doing some witchy thing of calming and thanks.

Then a man stepped into view, circling her with an expression of suspicion. His arms were folded across his chest, then one hand rose thoughtfully to his lips. He had not noticed Johnny on the porch.

Recalling that Ivanka told him it had been a strange man at Red’s house who had broken her arm, he wondered if this was the man.

By the scent, this guy was definitely a vamp, not an Offerling or Beholder.

Since Ivanka was an Offerling, he wasn’t sure that she’d have called a vamp a “strange man” or if she would have been wounded by one, but he didn’t know the details of what had happened and she hadn’t given a description of the man.

This guy was not quite as tall as Johnny, and he wore a tailored black suit that would have garnered the instant approval of both Aurelia and Risqué. His hair was a mass of thick black curls that hung to his waist, secured back in a ponytail. He removed his jacket, and laid it on the counter. The shirt underneath was white. He crouched before Red, studying her.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The vamp twisted around as he rose, quickly scanning Johnny as he entered the house. He gave a respectful nod of his head. “Domn Lup. My name is Franciscus Meroveus.”

“So tell me, Francis—”

“Please. Domn Lup, call me Mero.”

Johnny stopped on the threshold of the kitchen. “Who invited you in, vamp?”

Mero did not answer, but his smug smile showed a hint of fang.

Mountain, Johnny figured. The Beholder was the only one on the premises under the control of vampires. “What do you want?”

The vamp sucked in a deep breath, relaxed his knees, and squared his shoulders first. “I came for the witch.”

Johnny recognized the warning signs and mirrored the intruder’s pose. Being out of Red’s life for a few days dealing with his own issues had put him at a disadvantage. He had no idea what was going on, only that he didn’t like it. “You need to leave. Now.”

With an expression of annoyance, Mero checked his manicure and said, “Make me.”

Johnny had expected the vamp would accept the challenge rather than bow out. He leapt forward.

A bolt of energy slammed into his chest with enough force to knock him backward onto his rump and send him sliding down the hall.

Johnny groaned. I will not let Red down again.

Not all vamps could use magic. He’d fought Menessos before and it hadn’t been pretty. But he was stronger now. Smarter now. And he knew vamps like this one were very confident. It should be easy to lead him into being overconfident.

Mero rubbed his fingers over his thumb. “I bet that hurt.”

Johnny shook his head as if shaking off something more than he truly felt. He rose up slowly. “She is mine.”

“She must come with me.” He pulled his fingers away from his thumb and a string of white light emerged and stretched. As his hand rotated around this string it swelled like a balloon, becoming a brilliant ball of blue lightning arcs and flares of pale purple. He tilted his head slightly. “Are you going to insist on making this difficult?”

Johnny had no intention of letting this vampire take Red anywhere. He staggered one step and set his stance. With his hands at his sides, he called his beast. He blinked like he could not see clearly, and waited while the animal slid under his skin.

It was not unlike the way Seph’s half-grown Great Dane, Ares, would push his head into Johnny’s palm begging to be petted, but this was from the inside. And it wasn’t a domesticated canine.

This was wolf.

Long slumbering, after Eris had unlocked the bindings in his tattoos the beast had awakened feral and violent. He had clashed with his inner wolf and won its respect—his strength of will was mightier than the beast’s. He controlled it now, but that control had a price—the beast’s physical strength was not his own.

He commanded it, Come.

All at once, he raced forward and the beast burst forth.

His hands darkened and his fingers grew claws. His torso broadened with expanding muscles. His face transformed and his snout pushed partway out as his teeth grew long.

Mero released the orb.

Johnny slammed it linebacker style with his shoulder and kept going.

Mero’s eyes widened and, too late, his hand lifted for another blast.

Having taken the hall in four strides, Johnny leapt as his lower half changed form. He crashed into the vamp and both toppled over, sliding into the dinette set at the rear of the kitchen. Their momentum broke the table legs and sent the bench and one chair tumbling. The tabletop slammed down on them and while Mero struggled against the weight pinning him down, Johnny thrashed, kicking his shoes away, throwing off his jeans, ripping his shirt. A one-armed rearward thrust threw the tabletop against the wall with the landline phone. He heard the crack and crumble of molded plastic. The speaker on the receiver immediately began droning.

A sudden burning pain seized him in the side as the vamp shoved a fiery ball against his flesh. Howling, Johnny rolled away, but his retreat was blocked by the chair now shoved against the wall. Mero had not released the scalding magic so the movement had dragged the blistering ache across his stomach.

Reaching up, Johnny jerked the chair up and out of the way, twisting it and bringing it down on the vamp’s shoulders and head. It splintered into pieces. Johnny’s paws scraped along the floor, slipping on wood shards, until he’d knocked them away and found purchase on the linoleum. Just as he was fully up, Mero was getting his legs under him.

Johnny lunged, bringing his jaws down on the vamp’s arm. He tried to bite through it; he worried at it, trying to tear it off, but Meroveus’s arm was like steel. Then something solid and heavy smacked against his head. Stumbling backward, he released Mero. Dazed, Johnny saw that the vamp’s other arm, now holding the thick wooden leg that used to be attached to the table, was swinging downward with the follow-through from the blow that had connected with his head. He reared up and thrust in again, aiming for Mero’s neck. Mero sidestepped and swung the table leg for an upper-cut strike.

Johnny saw nothing but white for an instant.

Then his body felt heavy, boneless and unmovable. Pain seared over every inch of him. His eyes were squeezed shut against the scorching energy the vamp was discharging, but he forced his weighty lids open. Ahead, between the flickers of blue and purple light spiking over him, Red sat as she had since before he entered into the house. She was as silent and still as if she was sleeping sitting up.

He must have done that to her, to make it easy to get away with her.

He wouldn’t let this vamp take her.

Come, beast. Come, wolf.

Claim me.

His eyes flashed with an inner glow, giving everything a tint of golden brown then draining to palest yellow, like he was looking out from a new-risen autumn moon. He blinked again and the color faded from his vision.

This was more than wolf. This was Domn Lup.

He lifted his muzzle from the floor.