Every sense I had was focused on the spot where Sebastian had been standing the last time I’d seen him.There was a puddle of scent connected to a thin thread coming down the steps from the throne that nobody called that, because Weres didn’t have a king they would admit to.Sebastian had descended and stood at the foot of the stairs for a moment, in support of his brother, and then what had happened?
I closed my eyes for a second, all I could spare, and smelled scent trails going in all directions.As if a hundred Sebastians had broken off from the man and scattered to the four winds.A typical magical distraction.
I had unconsciously moved forward, toward the deeper well of scent around the chair, but at that thought, I reversed course.Back to the smaller puddle, where he’d been distracted, too, watching me tear into Bleddyn.And where someone had taken the opportunity to strike.
Someone who wasn’t Were.
I fought off an attack by a young wolf too stupid to know better, then got my nose down into that well.Got it in there good, because a myriad of other scents had started to obscure Sebastian’s.To the point of threatening to overwrite it entirely.
A hundred strains of musk tore through that patch of scent, along with the sweat of both human and beast, and the cologne of a waiter who had passed by a while ago with a tray of drinks.The different cocktails fought with each other in my nose, their alcoholic reek separating into the smoky hint of mescal, the herbaceousness of gin, the spiciness of bourbon, and the sharp tang of limoncello.And over all was blood, including my own, suffocating my nose with it, as well as the cranked-up scent of the air freshener they used around here, and that the pained-looking vampire staff had been hitting extra hard since we smelly bunch of fur-covered savages showed up.
The stuff was supposed to be faintly floral, but it was cloyingly sweet and annoying.My wolf batted at her nose as if she could claw it out, although I didn’t need a clear nose for this.Because I’d figured out what other sense I was using, and it wasn’t smell.
Magic tingled through the air like a touch on my skin, like a siren’s call in my ears, like a scent, too, one I had known as long as I had the smell of Were, of musky fur, of my mother’s perfume as her tongue licked my face.For I had a father, too, a powerful mage, and I had bred true.And the Corps had taken the raw material he’d given them and molded me into a fierce magic user in my own right.
And right then, every instinct I had, every bit of training, every hard-won piece of experience, said something remarkable…
Something impossible…
Something…
There!
I grabbed a patch of air near the wall and jerked, pulling a cloaking spell off of the four men hiding behind it.It had made them disappear into the tasteful wallpaper, camouflaging sight and scent alike, because someone had dealt with Weres before.Someone who had just hit me with a spell that I caught with my shield, but that was still vicious enough to send me to the floor and knock me several yards back before I recovered, my paws slipping on the slick surface.
But that wasn’t important in comparison to the slumped figure between two of the mages.
“Sebastian!”I yelled.And then enhanced my voice, screaming his name so that it echoed around the room, bringing every member of Arnou and her allies still in the area running.
Cyrus was at the forefront of the rush, which was good because I couldn’t help thebardric, being suddenly in a fight for my life.It looked like my opponents hadn’t known I could do magic in wolf form, so I’d managed to get off that one spell to shatter their camouflage.But they’d figured it out now, and these weren’t lightweights.
And, I strongly suspected, they were hopped up on stolen magic to augment their own, becausedamn.
I had shields up, was in my more sturdy Were form, and was still slammed across the room by a succession of blows.And when I came bounding back for more, I was sent flying into the wall so hard that I thought I’d broken it.Or that it had broken me.
And fight as I would, I just stayed there, splayed out and writhing, suspended halfway up the wall and unable to break free of the dozen spells eating away at my protection.They were eating fast, and not just at my shields.I felt the wall start to crumble around me, the plaster splintering, the concrete blocks tumbling and then flying and then—
Freeing me, when I burst through to the other side, which was just another ballroom, this one being prepared for dinner.I was flung into a banquet table being set with heavy silver chafing dishes by a bunch of startled employees.They must have been human, because they hadn’t heard me coming, and just stood there, staring for a second.But their supervisor was a vamp, who snatched a full punch bowl off the table before I could fall through it.
And then used it to bean the shit out of the mage who had followed me through what had been a wall.
Have to remember to tip, I thought wildly, and followed up the vamp’s attack with a series of three spells in quick succession, putting everything I had behind them.And okay, that got his attention, when the combo collapsed his shields.And then the vamp fell on him and got him by the neck.
Tip well, I amended, as the blood began to fly.
Then the other two mages were coming through the shattered wall, and I was frantically looking around for a weapon because they weren’t allowed in clan meetings.Weren’t allowed for invitees, I corrected myself, as the two dark mages double-teamed me along with a cloud of levitating guns, knives, and potion bombs.The room quickly descended into chaos, with the remaining staff screaming and running, the vamp feasting, and the massive hole in the wall showing the same kind of pandemonium happening next door.
Or it was for a second.Then my field of vision was obscured by a peppering of bullets, which had hit my shield and gotten trapped there.Along with enough knives to stock a chef’s kitchen, a boiling red spell snapping and snarling at my protection, and quickly followed up by half a dozen more of the same, because these guys weren’t the patient types.
But I was.
I’d been trained to be.
So I just took it for a minute, letting them pile it all on, everything they had, before flexing my shields and sending the mass of weapons back at them.Bullets that had lost momentum suddenly regained it, peppering the now-empty room.Knives went flying, zipping back at their owners, with one burrowing almost as far as the crossed eyes of one of the mages.And spells and potion bombs flung at me now hit their masters instead, and while none got through their shields, they caused a distraction for a second, allowing me to dive for the door to the hall.
I almost made it.
A snare grabbed me a yard or so short, curling around my back leg and bringing me down, while enough electricity pulsed through me to stun a platoon.
