Wild Warrior (The Weavers Circle 2)

“Baer!” Clay shouted, his voice carrying a note of rising panic.

Was it because he was in animal form? He’d controlled other animals while he was shifted in the past but maybe there were just too many for him to handle.

Leaping backward away from the horde, Baer crouched behind a different mausoleum and shifted to his human body. He mentally reached for the rats that were racing toward him, but it was like hitting a brick wall. He couldn’t speak to them, couldn’t control them.

And yet, they still raced toward him. Crawling on him. Biting at his flesh. Tearing at him with their sharp, razorlike claws.

“Baer!” Clay roared again.

“I can’t control them!” Baer shouted back.

“Because they don’t belong to you,” replied a low, insidious voice.

Baer’s head snapped up, and he looked over the vault to see the woman smiling at him. Her remaining guard stood at the ready. Not moving to attack them. Simply making sure they didn’t attempt to get any closer.

A witch.

The pestilents had finally sent one of their witches against the Circle, and this bitch could control animals. At the very least, rats.

“I’ve lost so much because of you. A husband. Two daughters.” Her voice was low and haunting. Almost like one of Savannah’s ghosts was speaking to them. “But now it’s my turn to rip each one of you apart with your own animals. I’ll save my crumbling world and get revenge for the lives you sentenced to death.”

“Can you reach her?” Clay demanded. Baer looked over to find rats clawing their way up his brother’s jeans and latching on to both arms. Baer wasn’t in much better shape. They were getting swarmed. As fast as Baer could kill one, more would just take its place.

“Will you two get your asses out of there!”

Baer twisted around at the new deep voice yelling at them. Just past the entrance to the cemetery stood Grey and the other Weaver. They hadn’t left yet, and one of them had managed to get the gate open.

“Goddammit!” Clay snarled. “Let’s move!”

Baer waited only long enough for Clay to reach him, and they both ran out of the cemetery, throwing fat, greasy rats off them as fast as they could.

“I told you to get him to safety!” Clay bellowed at Grey as soon as they reached him and the stranger.

“He refused to leave,” Grey calmly argued as they burst out of the cemetery and onto the sidewalk.

Baer gave a breathless chuckle. “You couldn’t think of some compelling reason, Mr. Mind Control?”

“Fuck you! I was more concerned with getting rid of all the bystanders when a fucking lion started running around a Savannah graveyard.”

“Hell,” Clay sighed. He was in the lead, racing down the sidewalk along the path they’d taken from Chippewa Square.

“Besides, you had four of those assholes taken care of before I could even talk to the tour group. I thought you had it under control,” Grey continued.

“Do I even want to know who the hell you people are? Lions and rats? And what the fuck is up with that smell?” the new guy asked.

“No, you probably don’t want to know who we are.” Baer turned his head and flashed a smile at his newest brother. “But I swear we’re a lot of fun.”

To his shock, the guy smiled broadly at him. “Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”

Their steps slowed to a brisk stroll when they entered the square. Clay turned and walked backward, staring in the direction of the cemetery.

“Are they following?” Grey asked.

There was a warm rush of power, and Baer couldn’t help a happy sigh. It felt good to just brush up against that energy. It wasn’t healing, but it was comforting, like a hug.

“No,” Clay softly. “There are several more in the city, but not close at the moment. We’ve got time to reach the Jeep and get home.”

“Are you guys gonna start coughing up answers?” the new guy snapped. He stood an easy six five, maybe even six six, with broad shoulders and a chest that tapered down to a narrow waist. He carried the same bossiness as Clay, but there was a hint that he might be a little quicker to smile than the Earth Weaver.

“We can, but I swear, you’re probably not gonna believe a damn word of it,” Baer said with a grin. He stuck out his least bloody hand. “Baer Manning. Great to meet you.”

The man looked at the hand and gave a little shake of his head before taking it. “Lucien Cummings. And is it weird that I feel like I know you?”

“Not at all,” Grey said, shaking Lucien’s hand. “Grey Ackles.”

“Clay Green, and we need to get to the plantation.” Clay narrowed his eyes on Lucien and pointed at him. “And you’re coming with us.”

Lucien took a step away, holding both hands up in front of him. “You know, man, I totally appreciate the assist back there, but I don’t know you and your bloody band. I ain’t going anywhere with you.”