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The body and head were both destroyed in the flames, but they needed to cover up the smell so Bastion gathered sage and dumped it on the fire. When it wasn’t enough, he dumped more. Roane knew they needed to leave if they were going to get in position before the rest of their enemy showed, so they lit the entire camp on fire. It would spread far and wide and leave no trace of a wolf at all.
A day later, as they were still moving to meet the oncoming army, the skies split open and down-poured. The fire would be doused. Lucas hoped there’d be no remnant of the wolf at all, and now, watching as the enemy wolves passed them, he knew they hadn’t found any body. Word would spread once they did.
He waited, frozen in place against the tree, as the last of the wolves passed by. Once they moved along, he and Bastion still waited half a day. It was nearing the time when they needed to jump back to the ground and start following behind, but Lucas didn’t move from his position. There was no reason to wait. They had sentries trailing behind, just like their own group, and those had already gone beneath them, but Lucas didn’t emerge from his hidden spot.
He knew Bastion was waiting. He would follow his leader’s movement.
Roane still waited.
Then, he shook his head. He was wasting time. His hand relaxed around the bow’s string where his arrow was notched and ready, but he sensed their presence. He didn’t hear them, see them, or smell them. They were like him, almost invisible to the senses, but he felt them.
Looking down, moving as if they were ghosts, was another army. They were vampires, like him, but they were dressed in black ninja-style robes. Some had their hoods pulled low over their heads with a gold lining around them. Others had their hoods back and their ears were adorned with gold chains. Roane knew of only one army that had worn similar gold colors like these—the Romah Family.
He looked over and met Bastion’s gaze.
They were severely outnumbered, and this army was the oldest and therefore the strongest there was. He hadn’t realized how many wolves Mother Wolf would send, but as the Romah Army kept going past them, and they had to wait up there another entire day, he knew his army with Christian’s would be overpowered. They didn’t have enough. They’d only be able to contend against them if they had Davy at her fullest strength.
“Roane.”
He whipped his gaze to Bastion’s. The silent thought sent to him could’ve been picked up by another, but he saw Bastion’s gaze was trained on the ground.
A foreboding sense began to fill him and it increased as his gaze turned to see what Bastion was riveted by.
There, in the middle of five Goliath-sized wolves and four Romah guards in full armor, was a woman.
He knew who she was.
This was Mother Wolf, the one that Christian told him about. She was stunning. Black hair fell free and loose past her shoulders. She wore a blue and silver robe. The colors were striking, matching the air of strength she was
emanating. Her eyes were dark. Her lips were bright red, curved into a half smile, and her head was raised in a confident and authoritative manner, but that wasn’t all that clung to her—magic. He felt it in the air. Older magic that he never felt was in the air, and as they progressed below them without sensing their presence, Roane was surprised.
If anyone would’ve felt him, it would’ve been her, but it hadn’t happened. They waited another half day before dropping back down to the ground. Once they did, both vampires groaned from the impact. Their legs had hardened into stone from the lack of movement. Both had gone without blood for days. There was no point to talk. Both needed sustenance if they were going to get around the army and back to theirs. Christian would need to know Mother Wolf was with the army, and she was protected by Romah vampires, but hearing a leaf stepped on in the distance, Roane lifted his head up and smelled the air. It was deer—that meant blood for them.
Both vampires took off and were on the deer within moments.
Both fed because both knew their days ahead would be grim.
DAVY
All right.
I had to admit to myself that the idea of going alone was ambitious and honorable. It also sucked. I was hungry. My feet were bleeding. My back was sore, and my hands were almost frozen. The first leg of the trip had been glorious. I used my Immortal speed and zipped over any cliff that needed an extra boost to cover. My head had been high and my shoulders were firm. That lasted a day. I was on day four and because I was doing all this the ‘human’ way, I had an entire mountain still to cover. I didn’t know why I’d been so eager to blast us so far away with my Immortal powers before, but like Gavin said—we’d been safe.
Oh yes.
We were safe. We’d been four mountains over safe. I was cursing myself, just like I’d been the last day, when I heard a sound that I didn’t think I’d hear again.
“You doofus! We need that to burn the Mary Jane.”
Humans.
Glorious, doofus-saying, Mary-Jane smoking, humans.
I almost doubled over in relief. The mere sound of that voice slammed an old sense of reality back into me, one where I had been human, somewhat normal, and I hadn’t been interrogated, tortured, wounded, or hunted by a supernatural being, or an entire army of supernatural beings.
I was so overwhelmed that I was frozen in place as two guys stumbled past the clearing and onto the same path that I was on.
I was there, standing with my hand wrapped around a walking stick, and my eyes so damn wide a flying saucer could’ve entered them. I knew I must’ve been a sight. I’d alternated between shivering and sweating over the last day and a half. I still didn’t want to use any more of The Immortal powers than necessary, and because I wasn’t expecting to find anyone so close to me, I hadn’t resurrected the cloaking spell. I was still stunned. I hadn’t even thought about making myself invisible.
