Wicked Road to Hel (League of Guardians 1)

He swerved to avoid the crazed bats that swooped overhead, their protection absolute and ferocious, swearing once more as he narrowly missed stepping into a pile of the slippery shit. He spied Ransome several feet away. The wolf had shifted back into human form and was slowly gaining his legs with the help of the female vampire.

The teenager rushed to her and she embraced the young man fully, her head turned slightly as she held him close. The boy meant something to her. His eyes narrowed and Declan’s chest constricted painfully as he watched.

The curve of her cheek, the small tilt to her nose, and the subtle scent that wafted into the air—all of it sent his radar crashing into overdrive.

Ana.

She tensed as if she’d heard the painful whisper in his mind. He felt the vibrations in the air hang low, tight to the ground, as all sound faded into nothing. His chest was tight. His mouth dry.

Slowly she turned.

Declan’s eyes widened in disbelief as his gaze ran over the delicate features, the generous lips, and the smattering of freckles that touched the bridge of her nose.

He felt like he’d been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer. The air was sucked from his lungs and he shook his head, not believing what he was seeing. It couldn’t be.

“Declan.” His name fell from her lips, two syllables that crushed him hard and twisted his insides painfully.

What the hell kind of shit was this? The image in front of him was not possible.

His anger unfurled—power rushed through him—and the ground around him started to tremble as huge cracks split the asphalt into gaping wounds.

She smiled, though her eyes glittered strangely, their blue depths like fragile sapphires. “Self-control was never one of your strong suits.”

“Who are you?” he rasped, his mind wild and unsettled.

Ana was long dead, so how was that possible? He couldn’t finish his thoughts. They were freaking crazy. Cormac had run a stake directly through her heart. Two years ago.

“She’s dead,” he muttered as he stared her down.

Laughter greeted his words, but the emptiness that rang with them couldn’t be hidden. “You’re right of course, O’Hara. Technically I was born dead. Cradle to the grave on the same day.”

Declan swore and took a step toward her. What the hell was going on? He didn’t for one second believe that the vampire in front of him was Ana. His Ana. This was a sick joke, nothing more.

“Who are you?” He snarled again.

“Go back to the house, Kaden.”

“I’m not leaving you with him.”

“I’m not asking.” The teenager protested once more but she silenced him with one look.

The boy glared at Declan, tucked his hands into the front of his jeans, and slowly walked toward the house, casting dark looks over his shoulder as he did so.

Ransome followed, an irritating smile hanging on his face as he passed by and scooped up his clothes. “See you back at the lounge”—he winked—“if you make it out alive.”

Declan watch the wolf leave.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” the woman spit out, her eyes fully black.

“I’m not leaving until I

get some answers,” Declan answered fiercely.

“Well then.” The vampire’s fangs slid out as she hissed at him. “I have a problem with that.”

And before he had time to react, she attacked.

Chapter 3