Too bad he’s got a thick skull, “Get your ass back over there with Jones or—”
“Jones!” I shout before sprinting back to the truck, skidding around the bed and dropping to my knees. He’s unconscious and the shirt I used to protect his ears is soaked through, his blood dripping from the cotton material. I lay my head on his chest, waiting for his heart to beat but when I don’t hear it, I quickly jump into action as the guys come around the truck.
“His heart stopped,” I tell them as I lace my fingers together and begin pumping his chest, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” I continue my compressions to ten before tipping his head back, plugging his nose and blowing deeply into his lungs. I repeat the process one more time and on the second breath, Jones begins coughing and groaning.
“Thank the Ancients. Fuck Jones, you scared me,” I lean back and calm my racing heart as Atticus and Case help Jones up.
They help him into the passenger seat, checking him over and asking him questions, but I can’t focus on them. The black blood on my blades and hands reminds me of all that my old pack is facing. Tears spring to my eyes as I flip my hands over and stare at the midnight blood.
Suddenly, two strong hands grip my biceps and pull me up off the ground and into a wall of muscle, “I don’t know what’s got you crying, little wolf, but you did good. There’s nothing happening right here that should have these tears fallin’.”
“Not right here,” I say as I bury my nose in the ripped fabric of his shirt, his masculine scent oddly soothes me, “But that’s unimportant right this second.”
I lift my head, the question is easy to see in his glowing eyes, but I step away and take a deep breath untainted by his scent, “We need to get Jones to a healer. I’ll drive the truck and keep an eye on him.”
I try and step around him, but he grabs my arm, stopping me as his hard eyes stare deep into my own, “You did good,” I swallow hard at the sincerity in his hard voice, “take a win when you can because there’s always a loss in the future.”
There are so many things I want to say to that like, fuck no or kiss my ass, but I don’t say anything. I just nod my head and scoop up my swords before climbing into the driver seat. Before closing the door, Roman pulls a shirt out from a bag in the back of the truck bed and hands it to me. His scent permeates the cotton and makes my wolf rumble with approval as I slip the large shirt over my head, tying it in a knot above my jeans.
Hissing draws my attention to Atticus who wraps a new bandage around Jones’ head and tosses my shirt on the floorboard at his feet before nodding to me and walking toward his bike.That was odd.Atticus usually pretends I don’t exist. I feel my wolf preen at the obvious show of respect the Alpha showed me.
“Looks like I ruined your shirt.” Jones mumbles with a chuckle, pulling me from my thoughts.
I smirk at him, glad to see he’s in a joking mood, but I’m still worried about his pale skin and the sheen of sweat on his brow line.
I huff out a breath, “It’s a good thing I have two more in different colors otherwise you’d owe me.” I squeeze his shoulder letting him know I’m only kidding.
“Follow close. We have three hours to go until we reach the compound. If you see anything, honk three times, got it?” Roman says through my broken window.
I nod and he walks to his bike, but Case smirks at me, “I think I might have been wrong about you, wolf.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head, “I’m used to being underestimated, Goldie.”
Case laughs and climbs his bike. What is it with these guys? They’re either hot or cold, never warm. It’s like they refuse to give someone an inch for fear they’ll take a mile, but they know nothing about me, nor the loyalty I have in me. Yes, I fucked up when I slashed their tires, but I was in survival mode. I know now that I wasn’t the only wolf in the town back in Nevada, but I didn’t know that then. When I felt their power at the car shop, my flight or fight instincts kicked in. How was I to know they weren’t after me? I couldn’t have.
So yeah, our first meeting wasn’t the greatest, but it’ll make for a great story later. All I have to do is continue to prove I’m as honorable as they come. I just need to make sure they know my story before they hear it through the grapevine. How fucked up would they think of me if they learned from a stranger that they have an Alpha killer under their protection?
“Alpha killer?” Jones mumbles as we drive down the highway.
Fuck, I guess I said that out loud, “Erm, what?” I play it off and school my features like he’s trippin’ or some shit, “What are you mumbling about over there?”
Yeah, I’m making him feel like he’s crazy, but fight or flight, right? He blinks his bleary eyes at me, like he can barely see out of them, “I heard you say something about being an…” He sighs and lays his head back against the headrest, “Never mind, I’m just starting to get my hearing back, but it goes in and out their words still vibrating through my head.”
My brows furrow as I stare at the leather cut wearing Alphas in front of me. They look so powerful and sexy on those beautiful bikes, especially Roman.
“Mors necesse est septempliciter vindicaretur,” Jones’ randomly Latin phrase brings me back to the present.
Focus Jaz!I mentally berate myself as I look at my sleepy passenger, “What was that?”
“Their words,” he says as he passes out.
I’m not fluent in Latin, the language of the Ancients, but I’m sure the guy just said, death must have vengeance or something close to that. What the hell could that mean and who’s vengeance needs to be had? I think back to the Dark Bloods. I know the creatures had to be from them, but I can’t figure out how they made them. As far as I’ve learned, the Dark Bloods are relatively new, but we just witnessed back at the rest stop tells me the Dark Bloods are more than likely Witches. Now, not all Witches are bad but with power like they wield, they can be a very wicked force.
Last year, news of some crazy shit down in New Orleans reached us in California. At first, we thought it was a crazy tale of a drifter who was passing through on his way to his pack. He said he was under the control of a Witch who masqueraded as the True Witch, but it turned out she was actually the Witch of Decay. Merelda Hound, a New Orleans Elder and dark magic practitioner, kidnapped and killed her way through the Blood Crows or as they are commonly called,Vampires. The drifter said he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and was caught by the old bitch. She changed him while harnessing his wolf’s blood and turned him into a mindless slave. The way he described himself reminds me of the creatures we just fought.
Perhaps that same magic is being used here. Maybe there’s Witches we know nothing about who are using the same recipe Merelda Hound used and they’re trying to finish what she started. Fuck, I have no clue what the Dark Bloods are or what they’re goal is aside from world domination.
When they were first discovered, it was by sheer luck. One of our pack members, an omega female, was out helping on a hunt. A rare thing for this girl. She chased after a rabbit, running in the opposite direction of the group of betas but when she heard the sounds of a battle she ran back, hiding in the brush when she began to smell death. What she saw that day has stayed with her. One figure stood in the middle of three paralyzed wolves. She saw the scarred and burnt flesh of the figure as it held out its arm, weaving magic that smelled of decaying flesh, before the wolves began to convulse under the magic. She ran after that, the figure cackling as she sprinted through the woods to Raider Village five miles away.
By the time we got our hunting party out there, the wolves were gone and so was the Witch.
At first, the old Alpha accused the omega of lying then sent her to the fighting pits in order to get the truth from her, but when she held her head high and stuck to her story, even with her bruised and battered body, the Alpha knew she spoke the truth.
It’s because of the unfair treatment the girl received that Cree, who was sane at the time, challenged him for Alpha status. We hadn’t seen or heard of any more attacks but even so, Alpha Cree set up a tighter and more strict guard around the perimeter of our lands. We still didn’t have a name for the figure that attacked our pack but three years later, Cree and his hunting party went into the woods in search of a feast for the seasonal celebration...but only Cree came back with black blood coating him. His story was practically identical to the Omega’s.
Now, that I think about, I’m pretty fucking sure that’s when he was taken under their influence. After all, why would they leave the Alpha alive?