Gypsy Origins (Page 23)

I expect them to make a move, but they just frown and look away from the spot, their eyes trained on the spot where Drew was standing.

It’s then I realize they’re seeing something I’m not, because I’m inside this bubble with the illusionist. Drew may look like he’s reading the paper for all I know.

Everyone sniffs the air again and looks over to where Drew’s body really is, but then they look back, likely seeing him on the opposite end of the house.

“Abby, you said he was alone, right?” a man asks as he comes out of the laundry room with my robe in one hand and Emit’s in the other.

The girl walks back in, her eyes narrowing on my robe. “Aside from the Van Helsing. We can handle him.”

“This doesn’t look like it belongs to Van Helsing,” the guy notes, sniffing my robe. “Mostly all I can smell in here is that citrusy toothpaste.”

Damien picks up his phone, though no one seems to notice, and he looks like he’s texting someone as his jaw tics. He glares over at Drew’s dead body like it’s insulted him, as he furiously jams his phone in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter. We can kill some omega whore who is leeching off the alpha,” Abby drones on, bored with this conversation, it seems.

I bristle, but Damien glances up, and he gives me a look that really doesn’t make me feel very good. As though he’s telling me something bad is about to happen.

Drew’s blood starts stinking all the way over here. Even I can smell it. Abby turns and sniffs the air, her eyes staring beyond Drew, as she slowly shakes her head and sniffs the air again.

It’s almost as though bitter acid is in the air, and I almost sneeze.

“Drew? Why does it smell like you’re bleeding?” she asks as Damien gestures for me to stay back.

Drew’s blood is the reddest blood I’ve ever seen, and the pure, perfectly red color seems to endlessly spill from his wounds. My stomach tries to protest watching, but the bright color is almost mesmerizing, as it pools on the floor under Drew’s lifeless body.

Damien picks up my gun from a table nearby, distracting me, as he takes two steps over and lifts it toward a man’s head.

“Drew?” Abby asks as she walks forward, shoving by a huddled group, and slaps her hand through the air like she’s striking something.

Her hand stops, almost like she’s hit something, but her eyes widen, just as she dives for the ground. Damien fires the first shot in the next instant.

I turn and scramble away from the railing when something sprays into the air after the bullet drills into that one guy’s head. For another second, the sound of that gun is the only thing I can hear.

In the next second, Damien is upstairs with me, lifting me into his arms, as guns start firing like crazy downstairs.

He runs and leaps out of the window, and my arms tighten around his neck. For a terrifying moment, I feel weightless, until we land in a hard crouch.

“Left!” someone shouts just as bullets rain all around us.

Damien grunts and curses, spinning us against the side of the house, but he drops me to the ground abruptly.

He whips my shirt over my head without warning, and I’m left in standing outside in the snow…in my bra…while rabid wolves work damn hard to find us. I realize why when I see the blood on my shirt…

They’ll be able to smell that through his illusion.

Then I see where the blood came from. His side is bleeding really bad, and I scramble to pull a healing potion from my bra. It’s not going to be enough though. He takes it and pulls his own shirt off, tossing it over the top of the house. As he rubs the healing potion on, not seeming to be in any hurry, I work damn hard to not panic.

I cast a worried glance up at him as he digs out the bullet and tosses it aside, glaring at it, showing no signs of pain.

He gestures for me to get down, as he takes my shirt and puts it in the tree several feet away from me, like he’s giving them a second trail to follow.

I brave a quick look, as bullets continue to spray all around the area we were standing just seconds ago, like they’re just aimlessly shooting at something they can’t see.

Then the bullets stop, and I hear someone hiss, “He’s bleeding.”

When I look back, Damien is nowhere to be seen, and my stomach plummets. Where’d he go?

A man walks right by me like he doesn’t see me at all, which is good, since I had no idea he was coming up from behind me. I’m not good at this. My plan always involves “dying” before fighting, dammit.

I haven’t been trained for live-action melees.

I hold really still when I hear a lot of growling from behind me, and I slowly shut my eyes and count to three, praying it goes away.

It doesn’t get any closer, but it doesn’t go away either.

I wish I had eyes in the back of my head sometimes.

Braving a glance over my shoulder, I see eyes glimmering in the woods…so many pairs of eyes. Buzzing happens somewhere in there, almost as though phones have vibrated simultaneously. Wolves launch out of the shadows with no warning—too many of them to count. They quickly spill into the clearing surrounding the cabin.

Several charge by me, and about five start trying to climb the tree with my shirt in it.

Two shove their noses in something on the ground, presumably Damien’s blood, before snarling and growling. Other than that, they stay mostly quiet, as they run around the side of the house.

A tremble starts in my hands, as more and more wolves move into the clearing, getting into the hundreds. How many can Damien take? I know he can’t die forever, but I really don’t want him dying at all.

I’m not even sure what exactly kills alphas. He pulled that bullet out like it was a bee’s stinger.

Where the fucking hell is he?

I hear a strangled sound and a wolf’s yelp on the other side of the house, before a frenzied set of barks and cries let out.

Again and again, more barks and more yelps, and one howls out in pain. Whatever restraint they had in keeping as quiet as possible is snapped with that one long howl, because it sets off a series of howls.

So many answer back that the ground rattles under me. Something hard slams into the back of my head, and I barely muffle a cry of pain as I hit the ground.

I look around, searching for my attacker. I feel like an idiot when I see what’s struck me. A broken flower pot lies beside me like I’ve landed in a cruel cartoon. There’s a single daisy poking up out of the broken dirt as if to punctuate the terrible sense of humor the universe seems to have around me.

The ground thunders again as they all charge in a frenzy, and I hear Damien cursing on the other side of the house as more yelps, snapping jaws, and a lot of other horrifying sounds ring out.

I’m still half dazed when something else crashes out of the window, realizing belatedly there’s a fight between two wolves inside the damn house above me, knocking shit off the balcony as they tear into each other.

A few more turn and fight with each other, like they have no idea who to fight, but they feel like they have to fight something.

The vast majority rush to the other side of the house, as I lift my hand to the back of my throbbing head.

My stomach drops when I feel a little wetness back there.

A line of wolves screech to a stop, quickly turning their bodies in my direction, as they sniff the air. Their eyes all land on me, and then pass over me. Then…they dart back on me as they sniff the air again.

Uh-oh.

They may not be able to see me, but they sure as shit smell my blood now.

Damien is grabbing me off the ground in the next instant, and I feel us moving before I even realize I’m wrapped around him.

He drops me to the ground, and I stagger to my feet behind him, as he fires off four shots with my gun, taking down four wolves. Keeping me shielded, he quickly fires off more shots, which bat down two wolves that are/were flying at us.

Too much is happening all at once for my mind to keep track of everything, and fur is flashing from all sides, because wolves are everywhere.

“I’ve got one trick to take down some of them. We might be able to run, but I’ve not kept myself strong enough for all this fucking shit. I’m the lover, not the motherfucking horde fighter,” Damien bites out as he moves us again, using his speed, even as the wolves seem to keep coming in from all directions.

I say nothing, not wanting to give away our new location, as he moves us over and over, spreading the scent of our blood, presumably.

But they seem to keep finding us, refusing to be thrown off.

Damien gets next to my ear as he moves in a fast, light-footed circle. “If worse comes to worse, play dead. Don’t let yourself panic with this many wolves here, Violet. You’ll burn out, and they’ll tear you apart,” he tells me so quietly I almost don’t hear him.

When my heartbeat kicks up, he squeezes me tighter, even as my stomach tightens in dread.

My eyes fly to his and hold, and he gives me a subtle nod, letting me know he’s apparently in on my secret. Emit’s a blabbing asshole after all.

But the wolves pressing in distracts us both, not giving me time to process what this means.

“Fucking purebloods,” he growls before he tosses me hard into the air.

My breath catches, and the sensation of dropping happens seconds later.

A little freaking warning would be nice before I land on a thick branch, my middle hitting it hard enough to force a loud grunt out of me.