“Fucking Xavier,” Benedict mumbled.
“He’d tell us if they were there,” I countered. “And trust me, his ancient ass would know.”
“I have to move the spell.” Jocelyn cursed under her breath. “And it isn’t easy. But if I can move it with these jerkwads, then we should be able to see where they went. This seems to be about dawn, so hopefully it will lead us right to them.”
“What do you need from us?” Benedict asked.
“Stay out of my way.” She winked at her mate and started working. “And call my sister,” she said over her shoulder as her hands wove strands of magic. “Tell her to get someone out here to repair the wards. I can’t do both at the same time.”
Benedict nodded and whipped out his phone, placing the call.
The rest of us stood there, watching Jocelyn work like it was a spectator sport.
“Feeling pretty useless right about now,” Ajax noted.
“I think my balls shriveled up and died,” Talon agreed.
“Not used to working with females, huh, boys?” Jocelyn asked, slowly standing. “Don’t worry, we modern day girls won’t go easy on you.” She flashed them a smile as the purple haze around us diminished, leaving only an orb around Jocelyn and our enemies. It was only a matter of minutes before the four of them took off, and Jocelyn followed closely, keeping them in her orb. “Now we hike!”
We followed, keeping pace with her double-time simulation.
An hour later, we were deep into human territory and the beast inside me was itching to be let loose. It didn’t care if I chose to fuck Avi or slay some Sons, either one would appease its appetite.
I was starting to think that males gave into their bonds just to get the primal fucker under control.
We crested a small hill, and a farmhouse came into view. It looked to be a hundred years old, with tattered shutters and peeling paint. The barn and silo were in the same state of repair. There were no trucks or cars in the dirt driveway, but the muddy tracks were fresh, and there were dozens of sets of them.
We passed over something that felt like a charge of static electricity, and Jocelyn’s spell disappeared.
“Shit. They warded it. I think they were headed that way.” Jocelyn pointed to a dilapidated greenhouse on our left.
“Talon,” Zachariah whispered.
“Already gone.” Talon’s bones contorted in an instant, and a gray, shaggy wolf trotted by, running ahead of Jocelyn.
“That’s fucking freaky,” Benedict murmured.
“Don’t let him do that shit in front of the lycans,” Lachlan warned Zachariah.
Talon had barely been in the greenhouse for a second or two before he lunged out, his bones snapping back into human form as he vomited in the mud.
“Shit.” Dagon took off sprinting, toward his brother.
“Don’t go in there!” Talon managed before vomiting again. “Night Thistle. It’s in the air.”
“Fuck me,” Lachlan growled. “This is the place.”
We formed a perimeter around Talon as he upchucked everything in his stomach.
“Get him to Gabriel,” Lachlan ordered.
Dagon grabbed Talon and wended out.
“It looks deserted,” Ajax whispered.
“It’s not,” I answered just as quietly. “There’s at least one human in that house, and the only thing he fears is…” I stretched my senses. “Vampires.” But there was something about that fear that wasn’t quite solid. Something was changing. Evolving.
“Ajax and Benedict, you take the barn. I’ll take Jocelyn to the silo. Zachariah and Hawke—”
“We get the house,” Zachariah said, staring at the farmhouse with an intensity that raised the hairs on my arm. “That human isn’t alone. There are two heartbeats.”
We locked eyes for a scant second and then took off sprinting, our feet barely touching the ground before landing on the porch. That heartbeat was…slowing down.
And that fear? It was no longer of any vampire. It was of one specific vamp. One with bloodred eyes and—Saint.
“It’s Saint!” I blasted through the door, dagger in one hand and a Sig in the other.
Zachariah followed on my heels. I cleared the dining room on the right, and he did the same with the living room on the left before we walked sideways into the kitchen, back-to-back.
“Holy fuck,” Zachariah hissed.
A human male was laid out on the kitchen table like he’d been served for dinner, grotesque lacerations gaping his throat open as a dark-haired vampire feasted with sickening gulps, draining the human.
“Saint! No!” Zachariah leveled his Sig at the clearly mad vampire…whose only fear was the sun. There was nothing human left of him.
He lifted his head, and everything happened at once.
Saint’s eyes locked onto mine, the mirror image of Samuel’s, yet bloodred and glowing. My stomach pitched sideways at the sight—so like the one I’d found when my mother had been massacred. Out of compassion for the torture in Zachariah’s scream, I threw my dagger instead of shooting my gun. Zachariah bellowed and hit his knees, his Sig slamming onto the muddy tile floor as he grasped both sides of his head.