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I throw everything I’ve got at him. He dodges and evades every spell I can come up with.
Magic clearly isn’t the way to go here. Brute force is what I need now.
I could attempt to channel Everett’s unrelenting rage to do that, but he has an edge that I don’t, a darkness inside him that allows for a brutal efficiency that I know my wolf lacks.
I’ve never killed someone, but this guy really doesn’t deserve to live, and the only way we get Oscar back for good and save this town full of wolves is to end Liam Mercer now, tonight.
I know what I need to do, and how I should do it. This guy is too used to fighting wolves. He’s too good at adapting to magic, at using his own brand to evade whatever I can come up with.
So, I drop my forcefield and summon an axe. When he lunges again, I use my shifter reflexes to spin and slash, putting all my weight behind the move. One of his front paws is sliced clean off.
He whimpers and crashes to the ground, and I slam the blade into his side with another measured move that puts all my weight behind the blow. It lands so deep I can’t retract the blade.
I leave the weapon in him while he gushes blood all over the expensive rug in his entrance hall.
“Holy shit,” Oscar murmurs behind me.
“That was really something,” Rachel says.
I summon a second axe when he starts to move. Probably a death rattle, but I’m taking no chances. I use the second axe to cut off his head. It takes two swings, and I really feel the burn in my arms this time, now that the adrenaline rush has passed.
I don’t care how great his shifter magic is, there’s no coming back from a severed head. Blood splashes my face on the final blow, and I drop the axe as his head rolls away from his body.
“No one hurts my mates,” I tell him, not that he can hear me now.
I tug my shirt up to wipe the blood from my face, and then I walk past Mercer’s body to go and find Everett. It’s time to get the hell out of this place.
We’ve earned the right to go home.
Chapter One-Hundred-Four
Oscar
WefollowCherylupa flight of stairs where Everett’s lying on the floor, passed out and bleeding from his stomach. My heart drops as Cheryl rushes to his side.
I knew this would happen. I knew one of them would get hurt if they came here to save me.
“Everett,” Cheryl says softly. “You’re going to be okay.”
Oh, fuck. She’s telling him he’s going to be okay. He’s not. There’s no way he’s going to be okay.
He’s on death’s door. He’s bleeding and no one’s even trying to put pressure on the wound.
I can smell the wolfsbane. My vision blurs as I look at them.
“Levitation spell,” Rachel says, as she sits down at Cheryl’s other side. “I’ll control it to locate and bring the toxins out of his blood. You can help me keep the spell going until it’s done. If this doesn’t work, the ghosts have another idea that’s a little more radical.”
Ghosts, plural. I raise an eyebrow, but I don’t ask the question. The spell’s more important.
Cheryl nods. She helps make Everett more comfortable, moving him away from the wall where his head was bent at an awkward angle. Then they start to cast.
I don’t fully understand what’s going on. At least, not until the magic starts to work.
The black droplets that rise from Everett’s wound are darker than blood.
They’re drawing the toxins out of his body, removing the wolfsbane to save his life.
When the spell ends, Rachel does something to make the black droplets disappear.
