“I understand.” The old man nodded as his shoulders slumped. “He’ll probably want all of us…dispatched. But I’ll have to tell him, anyway. The science isn’t anything fancy. The key is the source.”

  Once they were on their way, the other teams still searching were contacted and ordered to stand down and return to wherever they were staying. Since they’d shared transportation, Ginnie, Ephraim, and Calum accompanied Viper, Emmy, and Dylan, their vehicle following the van with the geneticist to Navarro’s estate.

  As their SUV passed through the gate, Ginnie sat forward, noting limousines parked on the circular drive in front of the house. “Something’s up,” she said under her breath.

  “The council has arrived.” Viper shared a charged glance with Dylan.

  Emmy grunted. “Shit’ll hit the fan after they have a chat with Dr. Deats.”

  “That’s the old guy’s name?” Ginnie asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve met before…” Emmy’s voice trailed away as she leaned between the two front seats to whisper into Dylan’s ear.

  Ginnie was getting tired of constantly being a step behind because she wasn’t included in the conversations. She could only imagine how frustrating the situation was to Calum. She wanted to ask questions. Find out what the hell was going on. Talk of an original “source,” a creature who’d been tortured so vampires could get their wings, intrigued her. She’d had to learn how to be a vampire on the fly, addressing every hunger and limitation as it presented itself. She knew how to cope with her present state of being, but she didn’t know the history behind what she was.

  Frankly, she hadn’t been all that curious, because she’d been dealing with grief and running the club. But now, she didn’t have the luxury of remaining on the fringe, only half-informed. “Can we stay?” she blurted.

  Dylan glanced at Viper behind the wheel.

  Viper shrugged. “She’s solid.” His glance slid to Calum beside her. “You can stay, too.” When he glanced at Ephraim, he frowned and shook his head. “You’re not leadership.”

  Ephraim shrugged. “Sitting in a room full of vamps isn’t my thing. If I can catch a ride…?”

  Viper nodded. They parked and separated. Ginnie and Calum followed Emmy into Navarro’s house.

  They passed Navarro’s ancient human manservant, Inigo, who gave them a dignified nod. “The masters are assembled in the dining room.”

  The only master she’d ever met was Navarro. With his old-world reticence and dark, aquiline features that rarely gave a hint of his emotions, he was pretty damn scary. She straightened her shoulders as she made her way down an arched hallway, noting the paintings on the wall, likely originals, and probably acquired when the paint was still drying…

  Upon entering the dining room, she saw seven men seated around a table for twenty. Others hovered around the masters. Viper, her sire, stood leaning a shoulder against a wall, his expression stony. She moved toward him and stood with her hands folded behind her back, her feet braced, like the soldier she was.

  Calum stopped beside her, his gaze scanning the room, his dark brows furrowed.

  She envied him his beard. She couldn’t tell if he held his mouth as firmly as she did from nervousness.

  Navarro rapped on the tabletop. “I’ve spoken with Dr. Deats,” he said, his lightly accented voice uninflected. “He is willing to share the location of the warehouse, which is the center of Zachary Powell’s operation. He has asked that we attempt to free his two associates…”

  One of the masters with a long, gaunt frame leaned forward, the hollows beneath his cheeks deepening as he frowned.

  Ginnie watched him, wondering how old he was. By his pursed mouth and fiery gaze, he could have been a part of the Spanish Inquisition.

  “They should all be destroyed,” he said. “We can’t risk this infection spreading. Wings are earned, not given.”

  Ginnie jerked at hearing that. What did he mean? Could vampires earn wings?

  Another of the masters, this one bald and with an angular face, beat his fisted hand on the table.

  From his militaristic posture, she imagined he might have been a Roman centurion in the past.

  “A thousand years spent in service to our secrets, and never have I even seen an old one.”

  “And Zachary holds one now, torturing her.” Navarro scanned his gaze over those seated at the table. “I contacted Magnus. He’ll join us tomorrow night, along with Garron. From Dr. Deat’s description, Magnus and Garron know who the creature is. When we take the warehouse, they advised us to keep her subdued.”

  “Albermarle…” The gaunt one looked to a blond man standing behind Navarro’s chair. He waved his hand to a vacant chair beside him.

  His face set, Quentin Albermarle moved to claim the chair.

  Ginnie held her breath. She didn’t know Quentin well, but she had seen him a few times in the past and knew he was friends with the O’Haras, and that he was one of Navarro’s

  “lieutenants.”

  As soon as he was seated, the gaunt master bit out, “This situation is your fault. You are responsible for the Powells.”

  Quentin drew a deep breath and sat straighter in his chair. “It’s true. I turned Nicky Powell. Every vampire they created afterward is my responsibility.” His gaze went to a slender, dark-haired woman, whose taut lips pulled away from her teeth.

  “We should kill you,” the master grumbled. “You’ve been unwise. And you’ve broken trust. If not for…” He drew a deep breath and firmed his lips.

  The balding master rapped the table. “I don’t care what Garron says. We should put him down along with that abomination.” He pointed toward the slender, dark-haired woman who held Quentin’s gaze.

  Quentin’s lips thinned. His hands fisted so hard his knuckles turned white.

  Tension rose in the room, palpable and thick. Heartbeats thudded against chest walls, breaths deepened. Ginnie swallowed to relieve a dry mouth and wondered whether another war would erupt.

  “They are under my protection,” Navarro said quietly, his posture stiffening.

  His voice, so quiet and controlled, made Ginnie shiver.

  The bald one’s gaze narrowed. “She had a child. If it is found, you know what must happen.”

  A small muscle flexed along the edge of Navarro’s jaw. His gaze swept the rest of those gathered in the room. “If you haven’t all heard, Darcy is both vampire and wolf,” Navarro said softly.

  Beside her, Calum gasped.

  Ginnie didn’t dare turn away from the tableau in front of her. Vampire and wolf? She hadn’t known that was possible. Had Darcy been born a wolf and then turned by a vampire? That was the only way she could imagine this condition would be possible, because “turned” wolves—humans bitten by werewolves—were dangerous, uncontrollable beasts. And yet, this woman, Darcy, stood still, baring her teeth, yes, but she remained in control of herself.

  “As you well know,” Navarro said from his seat at the head of the long table, “I had every intention of hunting Darcy Albermarle down and killing her, but she isn’t the maddened beast we expected. She could be an asset.”

  The gaunt one frowned. “She has yet to be tested. Who knows what will happen when she’d pushed into a corner and forced to fight for her ‘get.’ If her child isn’t already dead, she may prove to be more of a problem than Zachary. How do you expect to control her?” He spoke as if Darcy couldn’t hear and didn’t flinch at his harsh words.

  Looking straight ahead, Navarro said, “Quentin and I have already put plans into place.”

  This time, Darcy shot a glare at Quentin, her anger bristling for anyone to see.

  Quentin’s expression remained neutral, although his blue eyes hardened.

  Shifting her feet, Ginnie drew a deep breath and let it out. She didn’t like the masters. Didn’t like that they could end a life with a wave of a hand. What made them God? The fact they were old? She hadn’t heard anything particularly wise and Gandalf-ish coming from any of them.

  Her gaze went to Darcy, whose expression was fierce, but whose body didn’t seem all that scary. She was wolf and vampire—but which being held precedence? Did she have to feed like a vampire? Did she go full-on, hairy wolf like Calum?

  The most mind-blowing bit of news had been about the fact she’d borne a child—and apparently, it was all mixed up in this Zachary Powell business. Questions flashed through her thoughts. When this was over, she’d expect answers from her sire.

  She shot Calum a sideways glance and discovered his gaze was laser-focused on Darcy. His brows were lowered and his eyes mirrored—shining gold in the dimly lit dining room.

  Fearing he’d start to growl and draw attention their way, she reached for his sleeve and gave it a tug.

  His hand fisted, and he shrugged off her touch. Then a low growl sounded, quietly at first, then building in intensity.

  Darcy’s eyes flashed golden, and her upper fangs descended, creeping past her lower lips.

  No, no, no. Ginnie shot Viper a glance.

  Frowning, he already watched the play between the two.

  Everyone did.

  Navarro pushed up from the table. “Are we in agreement?” he asked, his voice louder and sharper than before, likely hoping to drag everyone’s attention back to him and away from the menacing noises and stares occurring behind him.

  The masters made eye contact around the table, perhaps communicating silently, Ginnie guessed.

  The gaunt one firmed his lips then gave Navarro a regal nod. “You will see to Powell’s annihilation. His factory and all his minions must be destroyed. We will…trust…your methods. See that this war does not bring any more attention upon us from the human world than it already has.”

  Left unsaid, but all too apparent by his bristling anger, was an unspoken or else. Ginnie had no doubt that Navarro’s fate, as well as that of all his progenies, depended on their victory.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  After the council and their entourages departed, the rest gathered in the dining room with Navarro remaining silent.

  Again, Calum felt Ginnie’s hand on his arm. A calming influence inside a room charged with anger and fear. His mind still reeled over the fact that a creature such as Darcy Albermarle existed. An abomination, the old master had labeled her. According to his own clan’s lore, this claim was true. If she’d been human then turned into a wolf, already she bore a strike, because rogue wolves were dangerous, rarely containing their inner beasts. But turned again, by a vampire? That predicament was unheard of.

  Navarro cleared his throat. “You all have questions. I’ll address them. But please—sit.” He indicated the empty chairs around the table.

  Ginnie pulled on his sleeve and led him to a spot opposite Quentin and Darcy, with the width of the table separating them.

  Navarro drew a deep breath. “This situation is all very complicated. It is true, I ordered Darcy’s death.” His gaze went to the pale woman who sat forward on her seat, her tense body ready to pounce from her seat.

  Quentin reached out and covered her hand with his. Darcy tightened her fingers into a fist, but Quentin simply smoothed his hand over the top of hers until she relaxed her fingers, and then he weaved his between hers. He turned to the group. “I know the rules. The risks. Darcy was human and pregnant with a human child. Our compound in Florida was overrun by wolves. Rogues. They attacked her and took her baby…”

  Calum’s stomach dropped. The thought of wolves savaging a pregnant human woman… As abhorrent as that thought was, he knew his pack would be a problem.

  Ginnie’s breath hitched. Took her child… It had been ripped from her belly, she had no doubt, and now she understood.

  “She lay dying. In my arms,” the blond man said, his voice growing rough. “I couldn’t lose her.” He paused and glanced at Darcy, whose gaze was dark and hollow as she stared back.

  Navarro cleared his throat. “Zachary has the child, a boy. The wolves worked for him. How she came to be,” he said, giving Darcy a sideways glance, “is still a bit of a mystery, but there we have it. Darcy is both wolf and vampire, and she walks among us. She’s Quentin’s responsibility, and although I’ve tried, she won’t be dissuaded from engaging in this mission.”

  Darcy gave a fierce nod then let her gaze slide away.

  “So, we know where the warehouse is,” Viper murmured.

  “We do.” Navarro dipped his chin. “We’ll assemble nearby, before nightfall, and hit them with everything we have. When we’ve taken the source and found the child, we’ll torch the place. Nothing remains. Not a living soulless creature.” He paused, scanning the length of the table. “Am I understood?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “You’d best rest up. Brief your soldiers. Calum, we’ll need all your pack’s capability.”

  Calum nodded and sat back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest. Again, his gaze went to Darcy who met his with a vacant look.

  To Ginnie, it was as though Darcy wasn’t looking at him at all. And maybe she wasn’t.

  “One last thing, Calum.” Navarro leaned forward. “The promise Zachary made to your clan—the one he never intended to keep—if all goes well, and all those we hope to save do survive, I will see that your clan and the Dark Mountain clan have access to Dr. Deats and his friends…”

  Calum’s jaw tightened.

  After Navarro rose and left the room, Calum pushed up and circled the table.

  Quentin stood, moving between him and his wife.

  “I’m only curious,” Calum said, raising a hand. “This can be done?”

  “Almost didn’t happen,” Quentin said, his voice clipped. “She almost died.”

  Darcy gripped Quentin’s arm and moved beside him to face Calum. “Will you destroy my child?” she asked, her gaze boring into his.

  He frowned. “I’ve never heard of anything…like you. If this child is both…”

  “He might be completely human,” Quentin said, his voice lowering in warning for him to back off.

  Frowning, Calum shrugged. “I wouldn’t destroy a child. I’ll make sure my men understand he’s to be protected and returned to you.” Again, he stared at Darcy.

  She waved a hand between them. “I’m like you when I turn…at least, I’m half a wolf, if you know what I mean.”

  “But she’s stronger. Smarter. I think faster,” Quentin said. “And it’s true she hasn’t been tested in the heat of battle. I won’t leave her side. And I’ll carry a collar, in case the situation doesn’t go well.”

  A silver collar, Ginnie knew, could restrain a wolf. She couldn’t imagine how that must feel, metal encircling one’s neck…

  Emmy walked up beside Darcy and gently placed her arm around her waist. “I’ll be with you, too. We’ll make these motherfuckers pay for all the pain they’ve caused.”

  Darcy’s mouth curved just the slightest bit as she stared into her eyes.

  Friends. Maybe they’d been the best of friends before the attack. Ginnie could only wish for the kind of love and acceptance she saw reflected in Emmy’s gaze.

  Viper clapped a hand on Calum’s shoulder, earning him a savage scowl. The corners of his mouth curled. “I have a driver who’ll drop you two at Ginnie’s. Brief your men. Make sure they’re in lockstep with the rest of us. Then get some rest.”

  When Ginnie and Calum sat in the rear seat of the large limo heading back to her home, they both remained quiet for several minutes.

  “Some of my men…” he began.

  “They’ll want to end her, won’t they?”

  “Our kind have rules. Ones we don’t question. And when we turn, we operate on pure instinct…”

  Her stomach clenched. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, I’ll have to stay with them. To ride herd. And I won’t be able to turn. Not fully. So I won’t be as strong as I need to be.”

  She didn’t like that he’d be vulnerable in a fight. “What about your friend, Ephraim?”

  “Ephraim will raise holy hell, but in the end, he’ll follow my lead.”

  “So you have one ally.”

  He shook his head. “Can you accept what she is? Accept the risks she poses?”

  “I’m not sure what her existence means in the bigger scheme. I’ve killed rogues. If she lets loose once she turns, and she’s some kind of hyped-up monster, I have to trust Quentin and Viper will step in. But if she keeps it together, she could be one hell of a secret weapon.” Frowning, she shifted in her seat to face him. “What was Navarro talking about—that promise Zachary Powell made to your clan…”

  “We haven’t warred with another clan in generations. But he promised that if we helped him take Dark Mountain, he’d let those geneticists work on treatments to restore our females’ fertility. So few breedable females are available that our pack numbers are dwindling. But I doubt Ephraim and the others will take the word of another vampire.” Calum leaned back against the butter-soft leather seat. “Dawn’s not far away.”

  Recognizing a deliberate shift in the conversation, she tilted her head and gave him a flirty glance from under her lashes. “How long do you think you’ll be with your packmates?”

  “Not long. Your keep busy. Feed. Don’t you dare lie down.”

  She liked the roughness of his voice, the bitten commands. They had tonight, maybe tomorrow night—if they lived. She’d push herself to be “there” for every second she could squeeze from the time they had left.

  An hour later, Calum walked into his bedroom to find Ginnie air-boxing. When she glanced his way, she must have read the tension that still rode his body.

  “I take it the news of Darcy’s existence didn’t go over well…?” she said, angling her chin upward.

  “I called Viper to tell him to warn Quentin. Once we’ve taken care of Powell, another fight might erupt.”

  “Which side will you choose?” she whispered.

  His eyes closed for a brief moment. This was a hard thing for him to say. “They’re my packmates, Ginnie. We have our laws.”

 

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