Page 66

Ezra

With the daylight fading, Ezra let his pendant find Scarlett. She hadn’t left the house in two days and though he knew it meant she was safe, it worried him.

Mateo watched beside him as the star locked onto the coordinates of the cabin. “Maybe it’s raining or something.”

Ezra grunted and as if anything would change, he repeated the motion for what felt like the billionth time. “At least she has enough food.”

“She knows she can call us if anything were to happen.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “She’s not selfish enough to call us.”

Mateo laughed. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing. She supports us and I think she’s being very brave in doing so.”

He knew Mateo was right, but it also felt wrong having left her to her own devices. After seeking her out one last time, he packed up the map and made himself comfortable. The night was dry and the weather graced them with warm temperatures, so they hadn’t bothered getting out the tent.

Vince had begun his hike to the ridge opposite the lycans hide out, so it was just the two of them.

They would wait for Vince to give them the green light, then take those bastards down the moment they returned from their hunt.

Vince would have their backs, raining silver bullets on them from out of sight—and reach.

As he’d promised Scarlett, he’d handed over one of his luck potions to Mateo for when the time came.

For now, though, they tried to get as close to the lycans as they could without alerting them to their presence.

Though he was excited for the kill, he had to admit he hated these kinds of hunts the most. He felt dirty and the prospect of having to drag his prey back ate him up from within.

Staring up at the stars, Ezra tried to focus his mind on the thrill of the kill and the delicious pain a good fight would bring.

He sank the blade of his knife deep into his thigh, and drifted off to sleep—until he was rudely awoken by a punch to his ribs.

With a frustrated grunt, he swung, but only sliced through empty air.

Mateo knew better, and had jumped out of his reach.

“It’s time,” Mateo said, returning to his phone call—presumably Vince. “How many?” A pause as Vince answered. “Good, we’ll approach from the east.”

Ezra shot to his feet. They’d been hiding out close to a week, waiting for the opportunity to strike, not to mention the strenuous hike up beforehand. He rushed to unpack his weapons, securing them to his body.

Mateo ended the call and stuffed his phone into his backpack. “Five of them headed west. If we are lucky that’s all of them out of hiding.”

“Let’s welcome them home with silver rain.”

Mateo laughed, his excitement vibrating through their bond.

Now all they had to do was get to the cliff side before the beasts returned.

It was an arduous hike, probably the main reason the lycans had chosen that location.

It didn’t help that they didn’t quite know the territory but once they got closer, Vince’s presence alerted them that they were on the right track.

They barely talked, preserving their strength for the unknown laying ahead of them.

Closer to the location, they discarded all non-essentials for the kill, but not before eating as much as they could and heading out to investigate the terrain. The forest extended all the way to the edge of the cliff with trees growing over the edge of it. It was rather impressive.

“Hide in the trees and camp it out?” Mateo suggested.

“If they don’t smell us from a mile away. It’s their home after all.”

“But you’re good with the idea?”

He nodded and searched for the path that the lycans had trampled into the dirt over the years. “We don’t want them disappearing down there.” His gaze lifted up over the trees covering the path. “Maybe silver dust will do.”

Mateo pulled out the phone, dialling Vince’s number. “Can you see us? Good. We need you to keep them from going back to their caves. Is this where they came out earlier?”

While Mateo spoke to Vince, Ezra fished through his arsenal to find the silver dust grenades.

He searched the trees, finding the one that had the thickest branches stretching across the path and climbed the trunk.

He made sure the limbs connected with the detonator before going back to stand next to Mateo.

“Did you have fun, little monkey?”

“If it wasn’t for Scarlett, I would feed you to them as bait.”

“Just say it,” Mateo teased. “You love me, that’s why you won’t.”

“Piss off.”

Mateo had brought a few bear traps that they had configurated for their own needs.

They hid them around the trees that they’d chosen for their stakeout, hoping they might give them a few extra seconds of protection.

Ezra made himself as comfortable as possible, though that didn’t mean much high in the branches of an old tree.

He closed his eyes and let the night fall on them.

Mateo wanted to stay awake first—like the hero he was—so Ezra took the opportunity to rest.

They prayed the lycans wouldn’t return during the night, knowing the moonlight only made them that much stronger. They hoped that the lycans had grown comfortable, and that they’d use their strengths for their own hunt.

Once it was his turn to take watch, Ezra struggled not just to stay awake, but not to cut. He didn’t need the scent of his blood tipping his prey off. Their chances of remaining undetected were already slim.

The hours crept by and the moon gave way to the sun, easing Ezra’s nerves.

Even with his own night vision, he didn’t want to fight those fuckers at their full strength.

The urge to cut intensified with each passing minute, boredom warring with his already dark thoughts.

He knew it was dangerous—the wait always was—so he tried his best to fight it.

Instead, he wondered what his sweet little princess was doing.

They had left her a parting gift for lonely evenings and the thought of her making herself come…

Shit . He grew lightheaded from the rush of blood going south.

Mateo woke up, and immediately scolded him through the bond.

He shrugged and pulled out a protein bar, the first sunrays peeking through the leaf roof above them.

Ezra chuckled to himself, feeling Mateo’s emotions boiling up too and loved how much he hated it.

His friend was way too easy to mess with.

They alternated throughout the day, taking turns resting while the other kept watch. Vince was in and out of sleep himself. When the afternoon passed by, Ezra’s nerves heightened again and with them, the need for pain.

When Mateo’s emotions jolted, Ezra pulled himself out of the half sleep of his afternoon nap.

They were here.

He quickly downed his luck potion and then popped the vampire blood capsules into his cheeks, making sure the flask with his extra stash of blood was secured to his waist.

When they finally came into view, he had to stop himself from swallowing too loud—even breathing felt as if it would give away their position.

They counted each one and the second the fifth came into view, Mateo had already made his first move, shooting the leader in the head.

The lycans were trapped between them, with Mateo to the front and Ezra to their back.

Mateo fired bullet after bullet with Ezra right behind him, aiming for their heads each time.

The beasts hissed and howled in pain. The first one fell to his knees and then kissed the dirt headfirst. Ezra had his silencer on, but that didn’t stop them from finding him, zeroing in on their prey and launching themselves towards him with inhuman speed.

Fuck!

The bastard was much faster than anticipated and unlike he’d hoped, it missed every single trap. Pulling out his second Glock, Ezra aimed and rained bullets down at the beast climbing up his tree.

Shit!

Ezra snarled in pain. The fucker ripped his thigh open, attempting to yank him down with him before he lost the fight to the bullets and fell to the ground. That was two dead—hopefully.

Before Ezra could soak in his victory, he flew backwards, having been snatched from behind. The ground flew towards his face, his lungs emptied in a scream as his bones cracked. The vampire blood mixed with his own in his mouth as he tried to refocus.

Red eyes locked onto his like lasers. His gun fired, habits and reflexes he had trained over years overwriting the pain coursing through his body.

The beast sliced through the air with his claws, aiming.

Ezra swapped his gun for a silver dagger and cut the fucker’s paw like butter.

Silver truly did do wonders—only not enough.

The second claw sank deep into Ezra’s side, slashing all the way down to his thigh.

Fuckity fuck!

Ezra aimed and fired his last bullets.

Time seemed to slow, until the silver sank deep between the beast’s eyes…

and he fell dead. But before Ezra could move, he was buried under the massive shape of his enemy.

He barely had the strength to breathe, but he knew this wasn’t how he was going to end.

This was not how he wanted to die. He closed his eyes and poured every ounce of energy on wrenching his hand free, getting into his waistband and locating the flask.

He managed to down the whole thing, his body becoming stronger with each drop.

It took less than a minute before he worked both arms under his prey, pushing until the furry bastard rolled off of him and collapsed into the dirt.

Unable to get to his feet, he knelt on the ground and tried to analyse his surroundings.

With his head thumping and his vision blurring up, he reached for a silver wire and the small motor that would slowly behead the beast. Once that was done, he sought out the second and repeated the process, before aiming a few more bullets at their brains.

His hand shot to his second flask, drinking enough to make the deafening headache disappear, only for him to realise his mind was suspiciously quiet.

Shit!

He shot to his feet and reloaded his gun, searching for the other one he’d dropped earlier.

Thanks to whatever God was out there—or maybe even his luck potion—it was only feet away.

He picked it up and ran towards the path, seeing Mateo’s lifeless body being dragged away by one beast while another was being held back by Vince’s bullets.

Horrified by the image, Ezra detonated the silver trap.

He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t live without his friend, the one person who cared enough about him to always come after him and bring him home. He had to bring Mateo home, just as Mateo had always done for him. He couldn’t face a life without his brother. Fuck… He couldn’t face Scarlett’s grief.

The first beast fell and with it, Vince redirected his bullets to Mateo’s captor.

They both fired at him, Ezra screaming at the top of his lungs for Mateo to open his eyes.

Time stopped. It felt as if the bullets weren’t doing a fucking thing.

Just when he thought his heart couldn’t take another beat, the beast finally fell, releasing his grip on Mateo.

Ezra ran to his friend, muscles burning as he dropped to his knees and doused the unconscious man in vampire blood.

Bones protruded through his skin, intestines spilled from a gash across his middle.

Tears burning his eyes, he attempted to stuff Mateo’s insides back where they belonged, desperately trying to open the flask with his other shaking hand.

“Open your fucking eyes, you prick!” Ezra shouted, more of a plea than a curse.

“I can’t tell her. I can’t tell her you’re not coming back.

” Yes ! Ezra finally had the flask open.

“You’re the only one of us who deserves to be with her.

The only one who longed for her heart and bond all your life.

You can’t leave without ever knowing what her mind feels like. ”

Ezra could feel Vince’s panic, which only made his worse. Vince wasn’t supposed to lose his composure—ever. He was their sound anchor.

Scarlett would never forgive them.