25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The car rolled to a stop. ‘We're here,' Archie announced unnecessarily.

‘Thank you,' I said quietly. ‘Thank you all for coming here with me. I know it'll be awkward at times but remember to try and flirt with me a bit. Greg promises not to batter you for it.'

Greg snorted. ‘I promise no such thing, though I promise that retribution will be light and swift, and it won't take place here.'

I sighed; I was doing a lot of that these days. ‘Greg! We need them to flirt with me.'

‘And they can, but there's a line. If they cross it, I'll let them know.' He smiled at the occupants of the car but there was nothing friendly in it.

‘We're going to get pounded,' Archie complained to Liam. ‘My poor pretty face.' His whine broke the tension and we all snickered a little.

‘Come on,' I said. ‘We'd better face the music.'

‘I've always been a fan of silence myself,' David muttered, looking dubiously at the huge mansion. He slid out, walked around the car to my side and held the door ajar for me.

‘Thank you.' I climbed out and touched his wrist, offering him a small, intimate smile. I had to think flirty.

David blushed. ‘Oh boy,' he murmured.

A small laugh slipped out of me: bless David. The others decamped and surrounded me, Greg and David to my left, Liam and Archie to my right. In front of us were Elliott's battle thirteen, including the man himself and Aitken. It was notable that there wasn't a single female amongst them.

‘My Queen,' Thomas Elliott announced loudly. ‘The Staffordshire Pack is honoured to host you and your prospective mates.'

Tell him you are grateful but that the long journey has wearied you, and you would like to run on his lands.

I parroted Esme's words aloud.

‘Of course. For the duration of the stay, my lands are your lands,' Elliott said, a shade pompously. ‘By all means explore the grounds to your heart's content.' He gestured to the land behind me then stood, waiting for me to shift .

Now? I asked Esme, a shade hysterically. I didn't want to strip in front of thirteen strange men.

Now, she agreed. She didn't understand my reluctance. She needed to run; her paws longed for the dirt beneath them and blood in her maw. For fuck's sake. I stripped as quickly and unselfconsciously as I could.

‘I have arranged food for you and your suitors. You can join them for a meal after you have run,' Elliott said smoothly when I was naked, though I credited him for not once letting his eyes move from my face. ‘In the meantime, I will show your suitors to your private dining area.'

The men couldn't refuse his hospitality without causing grave insult. I saw Greg's jaw working; the last thing he wanted was to leave me to run alone.

Esme was unconcerned; the urge to run was too high. Let's go, she said impatiently.

I shifted in a blink and turned to run. Esme's joy was infectious and I let my worry slide away – after all, I still had Jacob guarding me from the skies. We pounded the earth, racing across the green and fertile land as the soft spring breeze cooled us. We reached the edge of the pack's lands and scouted around them. When we were certain we were alone, we turned to the wooden shack of doom .

We approached it cautiously. The sense of wrongness increased the closer we got. Esme sniffed the air. Old death, she said darkly.

Are we talking blood sacrifices or just old hunts?

I don't know. But if I was a betting bitch, I'd say the sacrifice thing. The wrongness is strong here, like something foul has happened.

We lay down in the long grass near the house and watched. It was quiet – too quiet; there was no birdsong, no bees buzzing. It was an area of total silence, and it was creepy as fuck.

The house nestled by the treeline and movement there caught my eye: Jacob. He settled his black wings behind him and waited, poised. Seeing him there settled me. I wasn't alone.

You're never alone, Esme commented. You have me.

I did, but lately there was a chasm between us, and I hated it.

We watched the house. We continued to wait, though for what I didn't know.

Suddenly a deer emerged from the edge of the forest. It looked weak and gaunt and its fur was bedraggled, but it was its eyes that sent a shard of fear through me: they were glowing a bright, malevolent red. Its movements were oddly stilted and jerky, like a marionette being moved by a puppet master.

The front door of the shack opened with a bang, startling us. We peered forward but couldn't see anyone. We looked through the opening and even through the windows, but the house was empty. And that meant that the door had opened by itself…

The deer walked forward, drawn by something we couldn't see or sense. It staggered through the open entrance and the door slammed shut behind it. We waited, tension roaring through us. Total silence had been restored; the stillness of the area was so absolute that when a sharp scream rang out, Esme started.

The scream ended as abruptly as it had started, cut off mid-sound.

We knew that sound; we'd heard it when we'd killed deer. As remarkable as it seemed, the only explanation was that the house had somehow killed the deer. No wonder the place had bad juju rolling off of it: the house was murderous, killing and subsisting on creatures that it somehow called to it.

Whatever was going on in the Staffordshire pack lands was very, very bad.