Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(61)

Natalie took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You need to hear this. They’re truly terrible, monsters who feed on the pain and terror of their victims. Imagine the worst torture your mind can come up with, then multiply it by a hundred. That’s the way they kill.”

Natalie’s stomach clenched, her forehead turning hot.

Kara nodded. “Kougar says that in the old days, before they were captured in the blade, they tortured human children. By the thousands.”

“They did,” Melisande concurred. “They’d round them up—”

Natalie lifted her hand. “I get the picture.”

“The wraith Daemons have no consciences,” Olivia added. “I’m not at all sure they’re even sentient beings.”

Falkyn nodded. “From what Strome said, they were created by Satanan for the sole purpose of creating the pain and fear that empowers him. Wulfe says that over seven thousand of them will be set loose upon the world if that blade opens. They can’t be freed.”

“The Ferals won’t let it happen,” Kara said fiercely.

No one contradicted her, but the looks that passed between them told Natalie that none of them were certain of that, Kara included. And the Ferals were running out of time.

Chapter Sixteen

After checking on Natalie and sending Lady back to her two-legged mom, Wulfe headed downstairs. As he descended the final steps, Lyon strode into the foyer, followed by the Shaman, Paenther, Tighe, and Kougar.

“Join us, Wulfe.”

He did, falling into step beside Tighe. “What’s up?”

“We just got another call from our escapees, this time from Grizz. They found the woman they were searching for. Apparently, she’s half Valkyrie.”

“Valkyrie?”

Kougar glanced at him. “Valkyries were members of the Nyad race, one of the races destroyed by Satanan early in his rise to power. This woman, Sabine, apparently survived, thanks to her mixed blood.”

“And she’s willing to help us?”

“No, she’s not willing at all. She’s an empath, far too sensitive to be around others. Grizz is bringing her anyway.”

Wulfe frowned. “And why does he think she’ll cooperate? If she’s being forced, we won’t be able to trust a thing she says.”

“A Valkyrie can’t lie, not when proclaiming a soul good or bad.”

Lyon opened the door to the basement and started down, the others following. “Grizz asked for Ilina transport, and Ariana’s sending it. The Ilinas are about to deliver them directly to the prisons.”

The implications spun in his head. “This is great. If the woman can tell us whether the new Ferals are good or bad, we can bring the good ones into their animals, which should heal Kara. And since the new Ferals haven’t been affected by the dark charm, there’s no danger of their losing their immortality. Inir’s plot to free the Daemons fails.”

“That’s what we’re hoping,” Tighe said, but while his voice contained a measure of relief, it lacked true jubilation. Because the original Ferals were still in trouble. None of this would solve the problem of their waning immortality.

“Has anyone else lost the ability to shift?” Wulfe asked.

“Hawke did,” Tighe said, glancing over his shoulder as they descended the last of the stairs. Tighe waited for him to join him and met him with a bleak, somber gaze. “About twenty minutes ago, so did I.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Stripes.” If Tighe ever saw his unborn son, it would be a miracle.

They strode through the gym, the Therian Guards parting like a disciplined sea. At the back of the gym, Lyon opened the hidden door in the glass that led to the prisons, releasing a woman’s cry of agony.

Lyon took off running, the others close behind. They burst into the prison block to find six cells full. Three new Ferals and now Grizz, Lepard, and Sabine. The Ilinas who’d transported them stood outside the cells, waiting for Kougar’s or Lyon’s dismissal.

Lyon held up his hand for them to wait, then turned to Grizz ,who was cursing a blue streak.

“What the f**k? You f**kheads! I said transport, not prison.” Grizz grabbed the bars, shaking them hard. “She’s a f**king empath! What part of empath don’t you understand? I told you she wouldn’t be able to tolerate this without touching me. Let me go to her. Now!”

Sabine leaned against the bars of her own cage, her head caught in her hands, keening with pain.

The place was in chaos.

“I can help her,” Grizz said, reining back his temper with obvious effort. “Touching me eases her.”

Lyon swung to the nearest Ilina. “Put the woman in Grizz’s cell.”

The Ilina disappeared, and a moment later deposited Sabine beside Grizz, as directed. Grizz swept her up, cradling her against him as Sabine curled into him, burying her face against his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over.

But despite the way she clung to him, Sabine’s response was harsh and pained. “I hate you.”

Grizz lifted his head, glared at them through the bars of his cage, and snarled, “Get this done and send her the f**k home. I don’t know how long she can take this.”

The Shaman stepped forward. “Remarkable. I’ve not seen a Nyad in well over five millennia. I believed you all dead, Sabine.”