time to leap onto the back of his intended wolf victim, one of the PACk had ripped out his throat.
Vedo climbed into the back of a limo where Cin held the door. Brock paused and made a shrill whistle. Wolves came from all directions, from the mansion, the drive, the side front lawn where a battle waged and blood shone on the grass. As one, they howled and disappeared into the darkness, returning to their place in the woods.
Inside the car, Allie, Brock’s mate, shouted from the driver’s seat. ‘”Get in. It’s gonna get bumpy.”
The car screeched and bumped. They rode over a thump, thump, thump .
“Damn, Allie. You don’t need to run over every hellion you see. We need to keep it steady back here,” Brock chided.
“It’s all clear now,” she answered and the car sped forward with a punch of the gas.
Ona fell out of Brock’s hold and curled onto the seat near Tiago’s arm where he lay stretched out, his father and mother holding his torso and head immobile. Cin spoke low, either to herself or to them, Ona wasn’t sure. “He’ll come around.”
Vedo gasped, but the big demon didn’t make another sound.
Ona licked Tiago’s hand and ran her muzzle under the sleeve of his coat, chasing his burning hickory scent. She couldn’t find it.
Whining filled the car at an aching pitch.
“Shh, sissie.” Brock ran a hand on her head and the whining morphed to a whimper.
The car stopped.
“We need to move him one more time, Ona. Can you let him go?” Brock ran his fingers under her neck and nudged her until she brought her muzzle back and let them carry Tiago’s body from the car. His hand fell limply from his side.
“Keep her close. To keep him grounded, she needs to be near.”
Confusion clouded her mind. Tiago was gone. How could she keep him grounded? Her legs gained new strength and the grief eased enough for her to follow. She nearly clipped Vedo’s heels the entire way inside the Montevedo mansion and up to the second floor, where she’d changed for that blasted party what seemed years ago.
“Listen carefully.” Cin put a hand on her head and kept her back when she would’ve leapt onto Tiago’s bed to guard his lifeless body. “I was dead when I met Vedo. Yes. Dead. But part of me still lingered, barely, and he was able to yoke me back using the demon brand. You still have a hold on Tiago and his spine is still intact. That’s all he needs—that and the will to heal. Call him back.”
Then she was alone with a body so cold it couldn’t still hold a demon.
Cin had been dead. The brand had brought her back. Ona sat on her haunches and brought her head around, nosing the brand beneath her fur. It remained there, hidden, and when she touched it, it tinged and an infinitesimal pulse throbbed once. She nearly missed it, but it was there.
Shifting yet again, the change making her weary after so many in one night, she shook her body before stepping away from the fur that had fallen at her feet.
“You don’t look comfortable,” she croaked. Clearing her throat, she stood at the foot of the bed and gripped one of Tiago’s loafers. “That was one hell of a party. I was enjoying it up until the point when you got your neck sliced through. But it’s time for you to stop sleeping it off and wake up.”
He didn’t stir, and strange as it was to hope the smart ass comment would wake him up to give her a sardonic response, nothing changed. She tugged his shoes off and proceeded to carefully and thoroughly strip him from the waist down. Not daring to look closely, she unbuttoned his shirt and suit jacket, spreading them wide, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift him to take them off. The cloth wrapped around his neck was quite the reminder not to jostle him too much.
“And when you wake up, no more of this self-sacrificing thing. You may think dying is a small price for breaking the cartels, but not to me.” A small sob trapped in her chest and she growled, unwilling to let it
Vedo climbed into the back of a limo where Cin held the door. Brock paused and made a shrill whistle. Wolves came from all directions, from the mansion, the drive, the side front lawn where a battle waged and blood shone on the grass. As one, they howled and disappeared into the darkness, returning to their place in the woods.
Inside the car, Allie, Brock’s mate, shouted from the driver’s seat. ‘”Get in. It’s gonna get bumpy.”
The car screeched and bumped. They rode over a thump, thump, thump .
“Damn, Allie. You don’t need to run over every hellion you see. We need to keep it steady back here,” Brock chided.
“It’s all clear now,” she answered and the car sped forward with a punch of the gas.
Ona fell out of Brock’s hold and curled onto the seat near Tiago’s arm where he lay stretched out, his father and mother holding his torso and head immobile. Cin spoke low, either to herself or to them, Ona wasn’t sure. “He’ll come around.”
Vedo gasped, but the big demon didn’t make another sound.
Ona licked Tiago’s hand and ran her muzzle under the sleeve of his coat, chasing his burning hickory scent. She couldn’t find it.
Whining filled the car at an aching pitch.
“Shh, sissie.” Brock ran a hand on her head and the whining morphed to a whimper.
The car stopped.
“We need to move him one more time, Ona. Can you let him go?” Brock ran his fingers under her neck and nudged her until she brought her muzzle back and let them carry Tiago’s body from the car. His hand fell limply from his side.
“Keep her close. To keep him grounded, she needs to be near.”
Confusion clouded her mind. Tiago was gone. How could she keep him grounded? Her legs gained new strength and the grief eased enough for her to follow. She nearly clipped Vedo’s heels the entire way inside the Montevedo mansion and up to the second floor, where she’d changed for that blasted party what seemed years ago.
“Listen carefully.” Cin put a hand on her head and kept her back when she would’ve leapt onto Tiago’s bed to guard his lifeless body. “I was dead when I met Vedo. Yes. Dead. But part of me still lingered, barely, and he was able to yoke me back using the demon brand. You still have a hold on Tiago and his spine is still intact. That’s all he needs—that and the will to heal. Call him back.”
Then she was alone with a body so cold it couldn’t still hold a demon.
Cin had been dead. The brand had brought her back. Ona sat on her haunches and brought her head around, nosing the brand beneath her fur. It remained there, hidden, and when she touched it, it tinged and an infinitesimal pulse throbbed once. She nearly missed it, but it was there.
Shifting yet again, the change making her weary after so many in one night, she shook her body before stepping away from the fur that had fallen at her feet.
“You don’t look comfortable,” she croaked. Clearing her throat, she stood at the foot of the bed and gripped one of Tiago’s loafers. “That was one hell of a party. I was enjoying it up until the point when you got your neck sliced through. But it’s time for you to stop sleeping it off and wake up.”
He didn’t stir, and strange as it was to hope the smart ass comment would wake him up to give her a sardonic response, nothing changed. She tugged his shoes off and proceeded to carefully and thoroughly strip him from the waist down. Not daring to look closely, she unbuttoned his shirt and suit jacket, spreading them wide, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift him to take them off. The cloth wrapped around his neck was quite the reminder not to jostle him too much.
“And when you wake up, no more of this self-sacrificing thing. You may think dying is a small price for breaking the cartels, but not to me.” A small sob trapped in her chest and she growled, unwilling to let it
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