the Thunderbirds perished, torn apart by my lovely, loyal hounds.”
Diana’s mother had been one of those. And Buck’s family too, his sister, her mate, her son. How many others had perished in his relatives’ fiery jaws?
I’m sorry. He had been a child. There was nothing he could have done to prevent their deaths, but guilt still filled him. I am sorry. I cannot bring you back. I cannot even avenge you, or promise that she will be defeated in the end. All I can do is make sure she does not triumph this day.
“I can sense your anguish, you know,” Uncegila said conversationally. He felt his mouth curve in a smile. “It is delicious. Your parents’ despair tasted just as sweet, the day that they finally discovered what I was doing. The slaughter of innocents was too much for them. They rebelled at last. They planned to beg other shifters for help. They vowed to stop the pack. You remember what happened next, don’t you?”
He did. Remembered the heat flaring on his back. Remembered his parents’ faces. The bright red light of his eyes, reflecting in their own. His lips moving without his volition, in perfect unison with his sister’s.
You know what I can do to you, Ophelia, they’d told their mother, the words not their own. Just imagine what I could do to them.
A disgruntled note entered Uncegila’s tones. “Though I’d underestimated Ophelia’s duplicity. She offered me complete control of her body, if I would not touch her children. I promised her that as long as her mortal form lived, I would not. Oh, how I laughed! Such a flawed, foolish bargain. It would be a simple matter to slay that vessel when it ceased to serve me, and move into the comfortable bodies I had prepared. I hadn’t realized that even as Ophelia distracted me, Ingar had taken you both and fled. Almost, he thwarted me. But not quite. Your filthy beast was able to break you free from my coils, but your sister was not so strong. It didn’t matter. I only needed one of you. I still only need one of you.”
Tucking the rifle under his arm, she took a knife from the case. She held it up, turning it so that light ran down the razor edge.
“Children must obey their mother,” she murmured. “Rejoice, my sweet son. You will finally fulfill your purpose.”
She drew the knife down his arm in a sharp slash of pain. His blood dripped onto the snow, steaming.
“Come, Thunderbird!” she called out in vicious, triumphant tones as the ground shuddered, drawing away from his corrupted blood. “Come, last of the Wakinyan, in your blind madness. Your ancient foe calls you to battle. Come, and meet your doom.”
The sky opened up, splitting in half. Out of the gap came the Thunderbird, wings bright with power. Uncegila laughed, opening his arms in welcome.
Not yet. With all his willpower, he held still, clinging to his animal. They would have only one chance at this. Not yet!
The Thunderbird’s blank white eyes boiled with mindless fury. Electricity sparked over its wings. An incandescent bolt lanced out from its spreading talons—and earthed harmlessly in the lightning rod under which he stood.
Uncegila laughed again, high and mocking. “Not this time, my oldest enemy. If you wish to destroy me, you must come closer.”
The Thunderbird seemed to pause, as though baffled as to why its attack had failed. It hovered for a moment, vast wings beating, cocking its head to peer at the tall metal pole that had absorbed its energy. Then it wheeled around, circling, and started to descend.
“Yes,” crooned Uncegila. She lifted the tranquilizer rifle, sighting at the approaching Thunderbird. “Come to me, poor lost, lonely foe. I will grant you the peace you crave. Come to me, and die.”
Darcy.
He held her name in his heart. Held her, in the center most part of his soul, the place that even Uncegila couldn’t touch. She was a small bright flame that would never go out. With her strength, her love, he could drive back the darkness.
Just for one moment. But it would be enough.
Darcy. He wished he could hold her, in human hands, one last time. With all his being, he yearned for her, so desperately that he could almost feel her touch, almost hear her voice—
“What?” Uncegila turned his head sharply, though she didn’t lower the gun. “What trickery is this?”
For a heart stopping moment, he thought he’d given himself away—but her attention was elsewhere. He could