Page 88 of Feral Possession

Adam stared back at her, his eyes milky, complexion grayish. As before, his unsupported head rested on his shoulder. The grin he offered her sent a chill down her spine. “Nothing a little faerie blood won’t fix. Lucky me, I know just where to find one.”

But she was claimed. Could he do that? Then again, the zombie vampire she’d created was breaking all of nature’s laws.

Before Adam took a single step in her direction, Marcus appeared in front of him. Shadows clung to his powerful frame. “Only one feeding here is me,” he grated in an otherworldly voice.

He snapped both hands around Adam’s shoulders. Picked him up and slammed him down on the metal table. “Stop!” Adam struggled, but his broken body was no match for Shadow-Steele. Then he stilled, pale lips gaping. “Shit, Steele. What’s wrong with your face?”

Marcus grabbed the zombie’s head, pried his jaws apart, and heaved a deep breath. From the back of Shadow-Steele’s throat, a sinister red light glowed. Adam thrashed on the table. Dark blue smoke wafted from his eyes, nose, and mouth, sucking into Marcus like a vacuum.

Dove stared, horrified. “Marcus! What are you doing?”

Adam screamed, his body spasming in Marcus’s hungry grip. Inhuman noises rattled from the zombie’s throat. Over their heads, the lights surged, growing brighter. Brighter! Dove threw her arm up, protecting her eyes from the sudden glare.

Finally, the light dimmed, and she cracked her eyes open. Marcus stood beside the unmoving corpse, his shoulders heaving.

“Marcus?” His head whipped in her direction. One look at his face and she gasped, stepping back so fast her skull smacked the wall. “Shadow,” she exhaled.

His scarred visage had returned, his pupil radiating a furious red. The fissures beneath his charred skin glowed with an eerie light. She glanced at Adam’s silent vessel, sensing a dark void. His spirit was gone. “You. You—” Holy hellfire, this wasn’t happening.

“Got what he deserved,” Shadow-Steele grated in a rasping voice. Part man, part demon. “Won’t let him harm you.”

“Yes, but. Where did he go?” She looked back at the corpse. Adam’s pasty lips were curled inward, his eyes sunken deep into his head. Like he’d had the life sucked out of him. “Tell me you didn’t—”

“We need to leave,” Shadow-Steele said, the low rumble fading from his voice. The red glow receded as well, his scarred face smoothing into Marcus’s handsome visage. “Gather your belongings and let’s get out of here before Doc returns with questions we don’t want to answer.” And just like that, it seemed Marcus was back. Had he ever left? How much control did he have? Were his actions his own?

“Um. Okay.” She moved to her fallen bag in a stupor, shoving everything into her purse. Only the most monstrous of creatures consumed souls. Dove feared she may have created one.

Twenty-Two

The day after the seance, Marcus sat on the sofa in his penthouse. Dove was curled at the opposite end, legs tucked beneath her flowing skirt, arms folded, eyes locked on the rug. Since their visit to Claymore, he’d noted a marked distance between them. At first, he’d blamed it on exhaustion. Now, he wasn’t sure. Was she upset he’d allowed Shadow to rise? How could she be after she was the one who’d helped him to embrace their union?

“Boss,” Bishop said.

“Hmm?” He forced his attention back to the lycan. Bishop sat on the opposite sofa, his bulk taking up a good portion of real estate. Earlier, Marcus and Dove had brought him up to speed regarding the visit to Claymore.

Bishop repeated, “What’s your plan for handling the backlash over Victor’s arrest?”

It was a reminder Marcus had more on his plate than his personal agenda. He had a responsibility to House Othonos as well. “There’s little to be done at this point. Could be nothing will come of it. Just posturing on Tiberius’s part. I wouldn’t put it past him to use it as a scare tactic, bringing those who oppose him in line.”

Bishop arched a thick brow, unconvinced. “If the clan leader is convicted, it could cause a loss of faith in the chain of command. If he’s innocent and the magister’s accusations are unfounded, your uncle will look incompetent. I’ve seen it happen with some of the lycan packs. Either way, it’s bound to instigate civil unrest.”

“Agreed. I’ll speak to my House officers, tell them to head off any talk that may lead to panic. I’ve no idea what Tiberius hopes to gain with all these arrests. His actions have become unpredictable. All the more reason to make sure Helen doesn’t land me on the task force’s blacklist.”

Bishop canted his head, growing pensive. “If what Adam said can be trusted, Helen will be looking for money laundering opportunities, since her scheme with Steele Industries ended. You have that fight at the casino coming up. You could use it to your advantage.”

That traitor, Adam, would have said just about anything to get back into his body. Still, the word of a dead man was all he had to go on. “It’s a popular event, but not big enough to draw the attention we need.”

“It will be if you put me in the ring.” The former super heavyweight champion stared at him, unmoving, unflinching.

Marcus stared back, not trusting his ears. “You want to fight.” Bishop nodded. “But you haven’t fought since…” Since Bishop’s beast got the upper hand and the lycan had lost control.

“Not since I killed Hernandez.”

In Council sanctioned matches, fighters who killed their opponents were disqualified. Investors got pissed off when their asset bled out on the mat. Also, it added another level of complexity to the match. Supernatural combatants often found it difficult to resist a killing blow.

Hernandez’s death had haunted Bishop in more ways than one. The fallen male’s family had wanted their pound of flesh. In retaliation, they’d pleaded their case to the lycan elders, ensuring Bishop couldn’t return to his pack.

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t like it. That event is a wildcard match. There’s no telling who you’d be up against.”

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