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Chapter 59

Fifty-Nine

IZZY

I swear my eardrums explode as Lissa’s scream reaches a decibel I never knew existed before.

Before me, all of the shifters fall to their knees. The wolves whimper and curl in on themselves, and the humans rock back and forth.

Something wet trickles down the sides of my face. I bring a hand to my cheek and discover it’s blood.

Lissa’s scream…made me bleed.

What the fuck is she?

As abruptly as it began, it stops, Lissa’s lips clamping together. She sways unsteadily and then collapses onto her side, her head ricocheting off a rock.

Hale and Gerry are there almost instantly, not seeming to care about the blood cascading from their ears in a steady stream.

I seem to be the only person who wasn’t knocked off my feet by her scream. I wonder if it’s because I don’t exhibit any supernatural traits.

I take a moment to study all of the shifters, searching for those I recognize. I still don’t see Emery, Reid, or Desiree, but I have to hope that means they’re okay.

And…there. The breath leaves me when I spot Silas’s broad form and Mr. Remington’s sandy-colored hair. My…fathers.

I take an automatic step in their direction, wanting…I don’t know. Comfort? Reassurances? Protection?

But movement in the trees captures my attention.

I immediately bend to grab the gun I discarded only to discover it’s no longer there. Oh…shit. I turn to race back to Ashton and the children when something slams into my stomach and throws me over a shoulder.

Then we’re running—we’re running so fucking fast that the world blurs around me and I fear I’m going to throw up. I try to think of what to do, how to get out of this, but I’m dropped to the ground unceremoniously before I can come up with a solution.

The speed combined with the force in which I was dropped causes me to roll. I swear my body hits every rock, tree, and cactus along the way. Are there even cacti out here? It certainly feels as if there are. Everything hurts.

When I finally stop spinning, I find myself staring up at the sky, a golden seam across my vision, the sun having just begun to disappear behind the horizon.

“We’ve been looking for you,” an accented voice croons from above me.

He places a booted foot on my stomach, keeping me in place.

I remain stubbornly silent as I glare up at him.

The man reaches for the wrapping on his head and tugs it off, a wide smile on his face.

I don’t recognize him whatsoever, but I do note the glowing red eyes.

“You’re a…vampire,” I whisper, stunned.

“You can call me Vlad.” The man bows at the waist, a lock of dark hair falling forward.

I can’t help but think that he certainly looks like a vampire…and like a Vlad. How stereotypical of a name. His parents must have hated him.

“This all could’ve been avoided if you had just been a good girl and come when I asked you to.” He tsks his tongue in mock disapproval.

“So you’re working with shifters now, huh? To kill other shifters?”

I can’t wrap my head around that. From what I heard, shifters and vampires were—while not necessarily friendly—on cordial terms.

Vlad’s grin grows, revealing razor-sharp fangs.

I wonder why I never saw Grayson’s fangs before. Is it because he doesn’t drink blood?

Focus, Izzy! I mentally chastise myself. I need to figure out how to get the fuck out of this.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Vlad smiles conspiratorially and cups a hand around his mouth. “This entire operation is bigger than you can even begin to wrap your pretty little head around.”

I scrunch my brows together. “What do you mean?”

“Who do you think the wolves will find when they peel off the masks of their attackers?” He taps his long, dirty fingers against his legs.

I glare at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Did you know that if a vampire doesn’t feed for long enough, they can pass as human?” he asks with feigned casualness.

He applies a tiny bit more pressure on my stomach, and a wheezing breath escapes me.

“Some of our best warriors volunteered to do that,” he continues. “It took over six months, but by looking at them, you would never suspect that they were anything other than human.”

Horror sluices in my veins like battery acid.

“Kain was there,” I point out. “He’s a shifter. He’s…”

Vlad’s smirk grows. “Ahhh. Yes. Young Kain. He was quite easy to capture, was he not?”

I narrow my eyes. “Of course he was. He’s a little bitch who wouldn’t know a clitoris from a nose.”

Vlad throws his head back in laughter, which causes his foot to dig in even deeper. I wince at the pain.

“I like you, Isabella.” He wipes away imaginary tears with his pointer finger. “But you’re also so incredibly na?ve. Did you truly think I wouldn’t notice you take Kain out? Grab the children? How stupid do you think I am?”

He leans forward until his rancid breath permeates the air around me, causing me to gag. “Everything that happened, happened because I orchestrated it. I wanted Kain to be taken. I wanted the kids to be set free. I wanted the shifters to attack the men who came with me.” His smile causes glacial fear to trickle down my spine. “It’s all part of his plan.”

“Who are you talking about?” I whisper.

God…

If what he’s saying is true…

The shifters are going to think that humans—that Hunters—attacked the party. Killed their people. Threatened their children.

And why did they want us to capture Kain? Certainly, Kain’s appearance proves that there’s more to this mess than what meets the eye, right?

Vlad continues to grin down at me. “And now I have the final piece of the puzzle—you.”

“Me?”

“You’re an extremely special girl, Isabella.” Vlad reaches down as if he wants to caress my cheek, but I turn my face away, gritting my teeth.

He pauses and then straightens, much to my relief.

“I think you may have gotten the wrong person,” I bite out. “I’m virtually a human.”

“Your blood will suggest otherwise,” he singsongs. “Besides, even if you can’t do what we need you to do, you’ll be able to help us get someone who will.”

“That doesn’t make any damn sense.”

He leans over me yet again, so close I can see the darker specks of garnet in his eyes. They’re truly revolting to look at. Not because of the color, but because of what they represent—all of the blood he must’ve consumed.

“You should be lucky you’re needed, little girl, or your insolence will see you killed.” He bares his teeth at me.

I grin. “Fuck. You.”

What he doesn’t realize is while he monologued like an old-fashioned movie villain, I crept my hand towards a fallen branch the size of my forearm. I swing it as hard as I can at his head.

As expected, it isn’t enough to knock him unconscious, but it does surprise him, and he staggers back with a yelp, clutching his cheek. I nimbly jump to my feet.

“You bitch?—”

I hit him again, harder this time.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Sometimes when I watch horror movies, I find myself screaming at the main character for being such a fucking idiot. For example, when they have the chance to stop the bad guy, they’ll often hit them once and then run away. Hell no. You keep hitting that fucker until his legs are broken and he’s unable to chase you.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I finally toss the branch to the side, certain that Vlad won’t be getting up and following me anytime soon. He’s still alive, but his legs look as if they’ve been through a meat grinder.

I spit on his unconscious form. “Fuck you.”

Someone barrels through the trees from behind me, and I immediately dive for the branch and hold it up like a baseball bat.

One last gunman steps forward.

I prepare myself to have some batting practice with his head when he speaks, his rough, raspy voice curling around me like smoke.

“Gracie.”

I drop the branch as shivers dance down my spine. “W-what?”

Grayson reaches for the balaclava and pulls it off, revealing a face I memorized years ago.

His dark eyebrows pull together as he glances at Vlad’s unconscious form before refocusing on me with panicked urgency. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“W-what? What are you doing here? Why are you a part of this?!” I ask in disbelief.

There’s no hiding the hurt in my voice either.

“I can explain,” Grayson says, stepping closer and grabbing my arms. His gentle touch sends heat careening through me. “The day after we…made love, the vampires took me.”

My stomach takes a nosedive. “What?”

“They wanted to know why I abandoned them.” He swallows. “I didn’t tell them about you, but I think they suspected. Especially if the people I was working with prior weren’t Hunters but someone in the paranormal world.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, my fingernails digging into his arms.

He’s here. He’s real. He’s alive.

And he was apparently being held captive while I wallowed and sulked.

Guilt, anger, and sadness all war for dominance, but I push those emotions to the side and tell myself I’ll sort through them at a later point.

“The other day, they pulled me out of my cell, dressed me in this ridiculous getup, and told me to wait. Then this morning, Vlad picked me up and shoved me in a truck. He told me to just fucking stand still and hold this gun. I swear I had no idea what he had planned. And when he started shooting people…” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”

“It’s okay.” I rush forward to wrap my arms around his waist, his steady body a contrast to my trembling one. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

His arms remain limply by his sides for only a second before he tightens them around me, lifting me into the air. And then we’re kissing, inhaling each other. A sense of rightness and innate peace barrage me from every direction.

I shove my fingers into his dark hair, messing up the strands, as he breathes against my lips, “Mate. My mate.”

I pull away to see his expression better. “Mate?”

Warmth envelops me.

A sheepish smile pulls up one corner of his mouth. “I was going to tell you the day I?—”

He freezes abruptly and drops me to my feet. I spin around to follow the direction of his gaze, and my mouth goes dry.

Over twenty people stand in the forest, watching us, but it’s the three in the front who capture my attention. They step forward with a gracefulness I can only hope to emulate one day.

The first one is tall and slender, perhaps a few years older than I am. Her dark-red hair cascades to just below her waist and is so straight it looks unreal. She has a heart-shaped face, stunning green eyes, and perfect pink lips curled into an enticing smile.

She studies me intently. “Is this her?”

Her voice is lyrical.

The lady on the opposite end steps forward. She’s the oldest of the group, though her eyes hold a keen intelligence that belies her frail appearance. Her gray hair hangs loose and curly around her wrinkled face.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” she croaks out.

The woman in the middle finally steps forward, and now that she’s no longer obscured by shadows, I can see her clearly.

My breath catches, and Grayson goes still beside me.

She looks…exactly like me. An older version of me—late thirties or early forties—but those blue eyes, that blonde hair, and those full lips are unmistakable.

“Mom?” I whisper.

The woman smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not your mother, child, though I am the Mother.”

Something occurs to me then. A name I heard…

“Delaney?”

I have the pleasure of seeing shock widen the woman’s eyes before she smooths out her expression.

“This is the Maiden, Soraya.” Delaney points to the gorgeous redhead first. “And this is the Crone, Ara.”

Ara bares yellowing teeth at me.

“You’re the Trinity,” I say in grim understanding.

Delaney smiles again, though her cold eyes refuse to thaw. “And you’re Isabella Martin.” She extends a pale, delicate hand adorned with rings. “You need to come with us.”

Grayson shoulders his way in front of me. “No way in hell?—”

The Crone waves her hand, and Grayson flies through the air and hits the tree with an audible thunk .

He struggles forward, but it’s like he’s held in place by an invisible wall. Anger flashes in his pale-blue eyes.

“Stop it! Let him go!” I scream at Ara.

She simply smirks, the expression somehow horrifying on her weathered face.

“We just want to talk to you,” Delaney tries again.

“What does everyone want with me?” I explode. “I can’t do anything! I have no magic. I can’t shift into a wolf. I can’t?—”

“You stupid girl,” the Crone rasps out. “Do you really think anyone here gives a shit about you? We all know you didn’t inherit any powers. But you’re the bargaining chip we need to?—”

“That’s enough.” Delaney holds a hand up in the air, and the Crone immediately snaps her teeth together.

“It’ll be easier for everyone if you just come with us,” Soraya says with a soft smile. “We won’t hurt the vampire.”

“Let me go!” Grayson roars, fighting against the invisible restraints like a man possessed. “I swear to fuck?—”

The Crone waves her hand again, and I suddenly can’t hear a single word Grayson says. His lips are still moving, his eyes spewing venom, but it’s like he’s in a bubble.

I stare at the Crone in disbelief, and she shrugs a bony shoulder.

“What? He was swearing too much.”

Soraya rolls her eyes. “You swear all the time.”

“Fuck off.”

Delaney turns her eyes towards the heavens as if praying for patience before refocusing on me. “You need to come with us.”

“Why?” I take a step backwards, wondering if I can run.

But no. I won’t leave Grayson, and there’s no way he can fight off twenty-plus witches.

“Because we need your help contacting someone,” Delaney says cryptically.

“I don’t understand?—”

“Oh, enough of this!” Soraya flicks her wrist, and my body sways to the side.

Darkness penetrates the edges of my vision, and my brain turns fuzzy, as if it’s been stuffed with a thousand wet cotton balls.

But just before darkness claims me, I hear a voice whisper, “Travan will have no choice but to come.”

Travan?

Who the fuck is that?

And then unconsciousness pulls me under.

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