Dirty Deeds: An Urban Fantasy Collection by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pen & Page Publishing
Published: 2021-01-11T18:30:00+00:00

Lincoln

He was watching Bedelia speaking the words of a summoning when the stink came to him on the air. Wet dog. Odd sweet-sick scent overlaying its primary scent. Female dog, in heat. The scent of sweetness and blood and… insanity.

Female werewolf. His hunter’s mind knew it.

Quickly, he sought his Mithran scions through their fresh blood bond and directed them into different positions. Through that bond, he felt their reaction of shock as the scent reached them all, and he directed calm into them.

A howl shivered through the air, plaintive, desolate, aching. Lost and lonely.

A creature stepped from the darkness of the trees. It stood there, limned in the night in his Mithran vision. A silver wolf in half-form—bipedal, standing upright on clawed paw-feet, naked except where wolf-pelt covered her, she carried a silver athame in each half-paw/half-hand, and an amulet necklace of wood beads lay around her half-wolf shoulders, marking her an earth witch. She had a full-wolf head, ears pointing high, wet nose, lips drawn back in a snarl.

Had he not seen Jane Yellowrock achieve a half-form of a panther/human hybrid, Linc might have been tempted to spin away and run for his life. But he could handle this werewolf witch just fine.

Out of the woods behind her, another werewolf stepped. Then a third. All female. All in heat. All insane. And three were witches, wearing the amulets of their power around their necks. The Rule of Three as Bedelia had spoken it, but perverted, evil. They were here to claim the Coraville circle and kill anyone who stood in their way. Kill Bedelia if she fought back. And his Bedelia would always fight back.

The wolves raised their wolf heads and howled. His skin shivered. Holy hell.

Lincoln glanced back. There was no protective ward around Bedelia and the witches. No hedge of thorns. The circle was defenseless. If the witch-wolves attacked the circle, the rising circle of power where Bedelia sat, it was likely they would break it. The rising energies would backlash. The sitting witches would be injured. They would be unable to protect themselves. They would be killed easily or infected by the attacking werewolves.

Rage thundered through him. His heart beat. Beat. Beat.

He drew on all the power gifted him as Master of the City. Drew on the connections he’d made through drinking the blood of his people, from allowing them to sip of him. All the things Bedelia had hated about his life as a vampire clawing his way to the top of a vampire clan, all these things would now save his love. His family. Raising his head, Lincoln Shaddock screamed the battle cry of his old human self, an ululation of rage. He called his people to war. “To me! To me! Silver. Fire at will!”

Shotguns blasted. But the werewolves were as fast as his kind.

Muzzle open, fangs dripping with the contagion of were-taint, the gray wolf leaped at the circle. Stretched out. Claws sharp as knives and black as the night sky.

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