Page 42 of Patrick’s Seduction (Scanguards Vampires #19)

42

“ F allon, Virginia, lock her up! Then follow us,” Patrick instructed, already heading for the exit. “Zane, you’re with me.”

He charged to the stairs, Zane on his heels. Taking two steps at once, he raced up the stairs. At the top of it, he ripped the door open. He was fully aware that they were visible now, but it couldn’t be helped. He could have taken Virginia with them, but that would have meant leaving Fallon without protection, because he couldn’t leave Zane with her. He needed Zane because he was one of the best fighters Scanguards had. If anybody could handle two werewolves at once, it was Zane.

They were lucky: the foyer was empty. Through the window next to it, Patrick saw what was happening outside. Charles and Wesley were using witchcraft to control the elements around them, throwing up walls of water, wind, and fire to separate the werewolves from their brethren, preventing them from defending themselves as a collective. Through the window he could see that the Gallaghers had all shifted into their wolf forms, but Scanguards had come prepared. Whenever Wes and Charles separated one wolf from the pack, Scanguards staff swooped in with a net, throwing it over the wolf, then pulling it tight, before tying it to one of the trees out front. Their plan was working: subdue the werewolves without killing them.

Patrick ran down the same hallway they’d used earlier, Zane by his side. He yanked the back door open and hurried outside.

“Where to, Cole?”

“Turn right at the end of the new wing and go around it. They’re about to get in the car,” Cole informed him through the earpiece.

In vampire speed, Patrick raced in the direction Cole had given him. Once he’d rounded the corner, he saw them: two men pushing and shoving a clearly uncooperative Cameron into the back seat of the car. The engine was idling, and as they approached, Patrick realized that in addition to the two guys handling Cameron, the driver already sat in the car.

“Fuck! There are four including Cameron.”

“Sending reinforcements,” Cole announced.

Patrick could hear him giving instructions to the vampires fighting the Gallaghers in front of the house to send a couple of people to the side wing to help him and Zane. Patrick barely listened to the replies, concentrating on Cameron and his fellow werewolves instead.

One of the men turned around, clearly having heard his and Zane’s approach despite the sounds from the fight taking place in front of the building.

“Vampires!” he yelled to warn his friends.

The werewolf pulled a gun, but Patrick was faster, and kicked it out of his hand, slamming the guy against the side of the car in the process. From the corner of his eye, he saw the other man shift into wolf form and lunge at Zane. Patrick couldn’t see how Zane was doing, because his own opponent had already recovered and landed a hard punch against his chin, whipping his head sideways and sending him flying. But the asshole would have to do better than that if he wanted to win.

Patrick got on his feet just as the werewolf reached him again. They exchanged kicks and blows, and Patrick noticed that keeping him engaged in the fight prevented him from shifting into his wolf form like his colleague had done. Patrick doubled his effort, pounding him faster to gain a couple of seconds before his opponent could retaliate. He needed those precious seconds to reach into his jacket pocket and retrieve the auto-injector. The next punch hit him in the chest, temporarily knocking the wind out of him, but Patrick recovered just as quickly and jumped the guy, jabbing the auto-injector into his side. The werewolf went down almost instantly, collapsing on the ground not far from the open car door.

Before he could take a breath, a wolf jumped out of the car, slamming into him. They went flying. There was no doubt as to who this was: Cameron. His fur was black, his eyes a bright silver, his sharp teeth a glaring white, his proportions massive. They landed on the hard gravel path together, Cameron on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

“I need backup,” Patrick managed to squeeze out through his crushed windpipe.

He fought Cameron as best he could from his disadvantaged position, shoving him back with his arms, trying to wiggle free of him, while Cameron’s snout was coming closer by the second. His sharp teeth would rip his throat open, at first weakening him, then ripping his entire head off if he couldn’t free himself.

Patrick marshaled all his strength. His fingers turned into claws, and he began to slice into the wolf’s chest and arms while trying to force him to retreat. But despite the howls of pain coming from Cameron, he didn’t loosen his hold.

Only an inch separated Cameron’s canines from his throat now. Fuck! This wasn’t how he’d imagined dying. One more breath, and it would all be over.

The moment Fallon exited the house, she could smell the werewolves out in the open. She felt the need to shift overwhelm her and knew there was no fighting it any longer. There were too many wolves in the vicinity, and it felt like an infection had taken hold of her now. She’d heard Patrick’s request for help over her earpiece and knew she had to get to him.

This time, shifting into her wolf form and ripping her clothes to shreds while doing so, was faster and less painful than the previous night. As she shifted, she lost the earpiece that connected her to the Scanguards team. She didn’t need it anymore, because her senses were enhanced now. Her wolf could smell two creatures in particular: Patrick and Cameron.

She raced toward the car, where the smell was most intense, and found the two several yards down the gravel path that led to the driveway in front of the building. She focused her eyes on the black wolf whose deadly fangs were only a hair’s breadth from Patrick’s throat. He was pinned underneath Cameron. She howled in frustration, making Cameron look in her direction. Their eyes connected, and she realized that he recognized her.

Without slowing her tempo, she barreled toward Cameron. When she reached him, she sank her fangs into his shoulder and held on. The force of the impact jerked Cameron off his victim. They went flying down the gravel path, ever closer to where the battle was raging.

Relief washed over her. She’d saved Patrick. But her relief didn’t last long. She realized too late that she was no match for Cameron’s strength and experience. She’d never learned to fight as a human, other than take a self-defense class in college, which now seemed ages ago. What had made her think that she could fight now that she was a wolf?

Fighting with their sharp claws, they tumbled precariously close to the driveway where the majority of the werewolves and vampires were engaged in hand-to-hand combat, and where Wesley and Charles worked their magic. Within seconds, Cameron had her pinned beneath him, growling, flashing his fangs. She stared back at him and howled. She could feel what he wanted: her submission. How she knew that, she had no idea. Maybe wolves had a way of somehow communicating, or maybe she simply saw it in his cold eyes. But she wouldn’t submit.

I’d rather die , she tried to say, but only growling noises issued from her throat, because as a wolf she couldn’t talk.

She could feel anger rolling off him. Why was nobody coming to her aid? From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement and focused on it. Patrick was fighting against another werewolf, this one in human form. Virginia was helping subdue him. Zane was still battling it out with a wolf, but bleeding from multiple wounds. From the corner of her other eye, she saw that the vampires who could have perhaps helped her were cut off by a wall of air and wind, a vortex of sorts, clearly conjured up by one of the witches to protect them from the werewolves.

Cameron grinned down at her, and she growled. She wouldn’t go out like a wimp. She wouldn’t give him that. He had no power over her anymore. He seemed to understand now that she would never submit to him, and roared, flashing his fangs again, slowly lowering them toward her neck.

A howl that sank deep into her bones sounded. A call to surrender, she recognized, even though she’d never heard it before. Instinct, she thought. Still, it didn’t stop Cameron. He would kill her, because he couldn’t have her. She felt his fangs at her neck, piercing her fur and skin, the pain excruciating. He would rip her throat out. Tears shot into her eyes.

In her blurry vision, another wolf appeared. The dark brown wolf snatched Cameron by the back of his neck, making him withdraw his fangs from her neck, flinging him off her. With relief and horror in equal measure, she saw the dark brown wolf rip Cameron’s throat out without him getting an opportunity to fight back. Limp, Cameron’s body fell back on the ground, the brown wolf standing over him triumphantly, blood dripping from his open mouth.

Suddenly, Fallon felt her body cramp and spasm. She howled, but within a couple of seconds the howl transformed into a cry, and she felt her body shifting back into her human form. Pain surged through her, and she screamed. Her neck wound was bleeding profusely, and the pain was unbearable.

“Fallon!”

It was Patrick who called her name, but she couldn’t reply. She felt cold and scared. When strong arms wrapped around her, she managed to look up and recognized Patrick.

“I’ve got you now, baby,” he murmured.

Around her she heard voices and howling, commands and cries, but it was all different now. She couldn’t hear the sounds as clearly as before and couldn’t smell any of the wolves or vampires any longer.

“Something is wrong.”

Patrick’s heart had nearly stopped when he’d finally been able to subdue the driver of the SUV with Virginia’s help and tried to come to Fallon’s aid. She’d saved his life—and put herself in danger in the process. He’d charged toward her, intent on killing Cameron, when a dark brown wolf had come out of nowhere and slaughtered Cameron before he could kill Fallon.

Fallon was naked and injured. But one thing was clear immediately: she was human again. Her werewolf aura was gone. He was relieved but worried about her injuries. She was losing so much blood. He pressed one hand on the wound, then bit into the wrist of his other one and held it to her mouth so she could drink from him.

When she began to suck on his wrist, he let out a sigh of relief. But the danger wasn’t over. The fight was still raging in front of the house. The wolf who’d saved Fallon looked at them, then raised his head and howled so loud that the entire forest could hear him. Several other wolves trotted out from the shadows behind him, howling with him.

Suddenly, the sounds coming from the front of the house started to subside, and from what he could see from his position, the fighting seemed to have stopped.

“This is Patrick,” he said into his mic. “Anybody? What’s going on out front?”

“They’re surrendering,” Amaury reported.

“Yeah, weird,” Luther confirmed.

“And they’re shifting out of their wolf forms,” Yvette added.

Patrick shook his head in disbelief and looked up. The wolf who’d saved Fallon shifted in front of his eyes. The wolves surrounding him followed his example. One of them ran back from where they’d come and brought back a stack of clothing.

The brown wolf, definitely their leader, stark-naked and clearly unconcerned about it, made a few steps toward him and Fallon. On his chest was a wolf tattoo with something written underneath it in a language that he couldn’t read. The other men had the same tattoo.

“Will she live?”

Patrick nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“And your blood,” he added with a nod at his wrist.

Somebody handed him his clothes. He pulled on his pants, but took the shirt and handed it to Patrick.

“For her.”

Patrick took it and covered Fallon with it.

“You can call off your witches,” the stranger claimed. “We won’t hurt you or your people.”

Patrick hesitated. “Why should I trust you?” It could all be a trick—saving Fallon’s life and then tricking them into trusting him so they’d lay down their weapons.

“Because Striker Reed does.”

Surprised, Patrick let out a breath. “You’re Striker’s intervention?”

“That what he called it?” He shrugged. Then he introduced himself. “Jude Beaumont from the Werewolf Alliance. I’d shake your hand, but…”

Patrick nodded. His hands were otherwise busy, cradling Fallon in his arms, putting pressure on her wound, and feeding her his blood.

“Patrick Woodford, Scanguards,” he introduced himself, then added, speaking into his mic, “Everybody, lay down your weapons. We have a truce.”

He watched as his vampire colleagues slowly followed his command, and Wes and Charles terminated their spells. Peace and quiet descended around him.

Jude Beaumont nodded at him, then addressed the assembled. “In the name of the Werewolf Alliance, I command the Gallagher pack to kneel.”

“Lupinotuum Societatem,” the werewolves who’d arrived with Jude announced.

“What’s that mean?” Patrick whispered into his mic.

“It’s Latin,” Amaury said. “Means Werewolf Alliance.”

“Never!” came a yell from the crowd.

Patrick recognized instantly who it was: William Gallagher.

“You had no right to interfere in our business,” Gallagher accused Jude.

With the calmness and confidence of a man who knew he would win, Jude stepped closer to Gallagher.

“We do when a pack becomes a danger to all werewolves. You should have reined in your son when you had the chance. His death is on you.”

“You killed Cameron? You killed my son?” Gallagher yelled, lunging for Jude.

But two of Jude’s companions grabbed him, imprisoning his arms so he couldn’t lash out.

“I’m the Alpha of this pack!” he yelled, pure hate spewing from the older man’s eyes.

Jude ignored his outburst and turned to Patrick. “Take your people and leave. Never come back here.”

“What guarantee do I have that the Gallagher pack isn’t gonna retaliate?” Patrick asked.

“It’s not the Gallagher pack anymore,” Jude announced. “It’s the Beaumont pack. I’m their new Alpha. And we mean you no harm. In the name of the Werewolf Alliance, we vow it.”

“Lupinotuum Societatem,” his companions said in unison.

“And William Gallagher?” Patrick asked, furrowing his brow. “He’ll seek revenge.”

“William Gallagher isn’t your problem anymore. He’s mine.”

With a nod, and with Virginia’s help, Patrick rose to his feet with Fallon in his arms.

“Let’s go,” he ordered his colleagues. “Anybody killed?”

“No,” Amaury replied. “A few injuries, nothing serious.”

“Alright, Jude Beaumont,” Patrick said. “As long as this pack doesn’t cause any more trouble, we won’t have a reason to come back.”

“Understood.”

He locked eyes with Jude for a second. They would both keep their word. Now it was up to the Gallaghers to submit to their new Alpha.