Salvatore gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the unease that stirred in the pit of his stomach.
The previous king had been a reclusive, sometimes volatile beast who too often disappeared for years on end. He’d become even more secretive after Salvatore had come into his powers, rarely mingling among his pack.
But there hadn’t been any hint he was brewing up evil in his lair.
That seemed like something Salvatore would have noticed.
“If that was true, then he would have shared the same information with me,” he rasped.
“He was warned not to.”
“Warned? By who?”
“By the ancient spirits.”
“Cristo.” Salvatore jerked from Briggs’s painful touch. “You’re completely nuts.”
Fury tightened the gaunt face. “Do not dare to mock me.”
“If you’re to be the great Messiah, then where are your creations?”
With an effort, Briggs regained command of his temper, smoothing his hands down the ridiculous cloak.
“All in good time.”
There was no mistaking the Were’s smug confidence, and Salvatore was hit by a sudden suspicion.
“God, you can’t believe you will change your pathetic curs into purebloods?” He shook his head. “I would expect such stupidity from Caine. But you, Briggs? How disappointing.”
Briggs’s expression was condescending, reminding Salvatore how much pleasure it had been to cut out his heart.
“I merely offered the cur the opportunity to glimpse into his future. What he claims to have seen is no concern of mine.”
“If it isn’t the curs, then where are your supposed children?”
“They will come when the time is right,” Briggs assured him. “You interfered too soon.”
Interfered? As much as Salvatore wanted to take credit for disrupting Briggs’s nefarious plans, he hadn’t done anything more than stumble across Caine. And…Harley.
A sudden, blinding rage rushed through Salvatore as he struggled against the icy bonds that held him.
“You son of a bitch,” he ground out. “You will never have Harley, or her sisters. Never.”
“Harley?” Briggs appeared genuinely puzzled. “Ah, Caine’s bitch.” He shrugged. “She’ll no doubt warm my bed, as will all the female purebloods.”
Salvatore’s rage faltered, his brow furrowed. “You can’t fool me, Briggs. You’re responsible for stealing the baby Weres from my nursery.”
“Of course, I did. And they have proven to be the perfect distraction.” He chuckled. “Even better than I could ever have dreamed possible.”
“You had four pureblooded babies snatched for a distraction?”
“I knew how desperately you were pinning your hopes on them and that you would sacrifice anything to retrieve them, even leaving your stronghold in Rome,” Briggs drawled, his flagrant conceit etched on his face. “They were mere pawns in your ultimate destruction.”
Son of a bitch.
Salvatore shook his head in self-disgust.
Of all the reasons he’d imagined for the theft of the babies over the past thirty years, he’d never even considered the possibility it had been a plot personally directed at him.
“You deliberately led me here.”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“As I said, it is not yet time to reveal my grand scheme,” Briggs said, leaning down to better enjoy Salvatore’s frustration. “But be assured…” He bit off his words as his eyes widened in an unexpected horror. He leaned even closer, sniffing Salvatore’s skin. “What is that?”
A savage smile curved Salvatore’s mouth. “The mating bond.”
Briggs straightened, his pale face becoming downright pasty.
“No. It cannot be.”
“Obviously, it can.”
Caught in their battle of wills, neither men noticed they were no longer alone. Not until there was the distinct sound of a gun being cocked.
“Checkmate this.”
Salvatore’s blood ran cold as he caught sight of Harley standing directly behind Briggs, her handgun pointed to the back of the Were’s head.
“Harley, no!”
Chapter Nine
Harley was already squeezing the trigger when Salvatore cried out. With deadly accuracy the bullet smashed into the back of the Were’s head, the force of the blow sending him tumbling forward.
She instinctively kept the gun pointed at the stranger, her gut clenching as she watched the gaping hole in his skull swiftly knitting back together.
Where was the blood? The gore?
Not even the most powerful Were could be shot point-blank and not take a few minutes to recover.
Well, that was the common assumption.
A pity no one had told the scary Were who was already shimmering with power as he shifted.
Harley’s breath disappeared as the lethal animal with russet fur and large razor-sharp teeth turned to regard her with fierce crimson eyes.
Holy shit.
Harley never realized that blood could actually curdle.
Accustomed to curs, she was unprepared for the sheer size and terrifying power of a pureblood. The air thickened, choking her with the heavy sense of danger. Her skin prickled. And her muscles clenched.
Her gut impulse was to flee from the terrifying predator, but Harley possessed enough sense to freeze.
The fastest way to death was to give the big sceevy Were something to chase.
Instead, she steadied her arm and prepared to shoot the beast. It hadn’t done much the first time. Okay, it had done something. It’d pissed him off. But unable to shift herself, she didn’t have much choice.
The Were lowered his head, preparing to attack, but before Harley could get off a shot, a furious howl split the air.
Stunned, Harley stumbled backwards, watching as Salvatore crouched on the ground, his body thickening and his face elongating as a thick raven-black fur rippled over his skin. In the blink of an eye, he was transformed into a huge werewolf.
God, he was beautiful, she acknowledged, her heart squeezing with an odd fear as he crashed into the unknown Were with a violent force.
Rolling across the clearing, the two purebloods ripped at one another with long claws, their jaws snapping. Harley lowered her gun, unable to risk taking a shot as the vicious battle continued.
The scent of blood filled the air, making Harley’s stomach clench with dread. Salvatore was the larger, more aggressive Were, but the stranger appeared freakishly immune to his savage wounds.
It had to be Briggs, she told herself. Nothing but black magic could allow the lesser Were to survive Salvatore’s brutal fury.