Page 10 of Black Hand
Feeling Veronica’s stare on me, I flicked my gaze her way. A slight frown pulled at my eyebrows when she turned to look pointedly first at Noah and then at Johnathan, who sidled closer to the male. Frederic was telling Isaiah something that I totally ignored in my attempt to understand what she was trying to tell me. Is this what she wanted to tell me, that Noah was here and good buddies with the kiss ass? My mouth opened to say something that would make her come closer to me, and that was when all hell broke loose.
A scream silenced every sound in the entire mansion.
A grave made more noise than the hall.
Isiah jumped up from his chair, which sent it toppling back with me still perched on the armrest. The thin heels of my shoes lost contact with the floor and I sailed in the air backwards like I was on a rollercoaster ride. My stomach did backflips, too, before my back hit the ground and all the air was shoved out of my lungs.
It was chaos.
Shouts and snarls were louder than anything else as I shook my head to clear it. Scrambling around, I tried to stand up but my heel got caught in the silk of my dress. I tipped to the side as I realized the damn string pretending to be my underwear was cutting between my ass cheeks, which pissed me off, too. My ribs and shoulder protested from the impact as I flailed around like a fish out of water.
“This is why I don’t wear fucking dresses.” I hissed angrily at the stupid dress when a hand wrapped around my arm and hauled me up.
“We have a problem.” Veronica panted next to me, her nails digging into the skin of my upper arm.
“No shit. What gave it away?” Jerking my arm out of her grip, I tried to assess the situation.
“Don’t be an ass, Bee. We have a shitstorm happening.”
Everyone was running out of the hall, pulling daggers and other weapons that glinted in the light of the swinging chandeliers. Naked, barely-alive humans huddled in groups in the corners trying to make themselves look as small as possible. An explosion shook the foundations of the mansion and pitched me sideways into Veronica. We both stumbled while reaching blindly for any sort of support.
“What the fuck is going on?” I expected many things tonight, but this was not one of them.
“Someone attacked the mansion.” The awe in her voice was reflected on my face.
“Who in their right mind would attack the Syndicate at home?”
“I know, right?” Her nervous laugh was contagious, so I joined her. “Listen …” When she paused for too long, I turned to give her a quick glance. “Do you think maybe it has something to do with your jobs lately, the ones that were done but not really done?” Chewing on her lower lip, she watched me with a sheepish look. My stomach dropped. “I knew what you were doing. That’s why I was hell bent on coming with you. In case we need to do a coverup or something.”
“Veronica, I …” Lost for what to say, all I could do was sigh and scrub a hand over my face like that would everything better.
“I don’t need an explanation, Bee. I just want you to know I’m proud of you.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Do you think that may have something to do with this?”
“No way.” All those shifters were safely in the reservations. Hopefully they’d stay there for a very long time, too. “I have no idea what this is, but I’m about to find out.”
“Where the hell do you think you are going?” She grabbed for me, clawing at my arms to stop me from leaving our safe place near the wall. The two of us were as pathetic as the humans.
“If someone is attacking the Syndicate”—Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, I leaned closer to her—“I’m going to help them.”
Her wide-eyed stare was comical on her, but I didn’t stay long enough to enjoy my friend being shocked speechless. Kicking off my damn heels and lifting my dress in two fistfuls, I darted across the hall, my gaze focused on the open doors. My bare feet slid on the smooth tiles when I entered, the billowing smoke filling up the mansion. At first, I thought it was from the explosion, but soon I found out it was something entirely different. People who were chatting in friendly manner a few minutes ago were now trying to kill each other. Everyone in attendance for the celebration was fighting among themselves, their fancy clothing turning into shreds from blades and fangs ripping at it.
My head was getting foggy while I stood just on the edges of the smoke, and I had to shake it to clear out the irrational urge for violence. Taking a step back, I held my breath while ripping at silk in my fists. Bunching up the smooth fabric from my now mini-dress, I shoved it over my nose and mouth while trying to make out anything in the foggy hallways. Someone was shouting from up ahead and telling everyone not to breathe whatever was released inside the mansion. Atua didn’t have to breathe to survive, but holding our breath would make us sluggish and slow us down considerably, so we made it a habit just like the humans.
The two males throwing punches at each other closest to me stumbled back, and I had to duck so I didn’t get hit in the head. One of them jostled my body with his spin kick and the fabric slipped through my fingers to fall on the floor. Dropping on my hands and knees, I crawled forward while snatching the silk the whole time. That was when the scent of a shifter hit me stronger than ever. The thick smoke was lingering and curling a couple of feet above ground, which made the air bearable. My head swiveled as I looked around, my nose lifted as high as I dared to find the direction of the smell. The scent didn’t give the shifter away, but his shoes definitely did. Down here among all the fancy high heels and shiny shoes, a pair of sneakers stood out as if screaming at me to notice them. The feet moved further inside the mansion, so stuffing the silk over my nose and mouth, I jumped up and followed on their heels.
My mind raced as fast as the adrenaline pumping through my veins. How did I tell whoever it was that I wanted to help before they attacked and tried to kill me? Did I just say, “Hey, you need some help?” Or maybe it would be, “Let me help. I want to mess them up as much as you do.’ Ducking, twisting, and turning, I followed the shifter up the staircase leading to the rooms. My heart stopped when a dagger flew in front of my face to sink into the wall parallel to my head. None of them would be alive when all this was over if they kept throwing weapons blindly. I had to give it to the shifter. It was a genius plan that I should’ve thought of sooner myself.
Reaching the top of the stairs after jumping over dead bodies and heads rolling like balls across the floors, I realized the smoke was thinner here, too. I thought I heard my name being called, but I couldn’t see a polar bear gunning for me if I tried in all the gray below. Knowing my luck, it was probably the kiss ass using the chaos to kill me and get me out of his way finally. A shrill scream made me jump a foot off the ground, and that was when I realized I’d been wrong. Johnathan hadn’t been calling from below. Not when he popped out of nowhere and faced off with the shifter I’d been follower.
The very male shifter, at that.
His back was to me, his wide shoulders stretching his thin t-shirt an inch from its life. His jeans were pulled snug over powerful thighs as he braced himself for Johnathan’s attack. Whatever he was, he sure didn’t smell like a wolf, which he confirmed the second sharp, long claws sprouted from his fingers. A feline then. Muscles bunched and jumped under the fabric of his shirt when he crouched and taunted Johnathan to make the first move.
But I knew the kiss ass.
He would neither fight fair nor put himself in the position to have a hair ruffled on his head. Johnathan was going to fight dirty, and the shifter was going to die. For some stupid reason, the urge to not let that happen reared its head inside me. Veronica’s voice echoed in my head. “You can’t save them all. Why make life harder for yourself?” But she was wrong. One by one I might not save them all, but I’d save as many as I could. So, the moment Johnathan tensed to do whatever he had planned, I made my move.
I rammed the shifter from behind, taking both of us down rolling on the floor until we hit one of the walls. Johnathan’s enraged scream echoed through the space, but thankfully the smoke was reaching the top and now hid us from view. A hand as large as my head with wicked claws passed an inch from my nose when I jerked back to avoid being skewered. Not wasting time talking—mostly so the kiss ass didn’t hear my voice—I grabbed the shifter by his arm and yanked him along with me down the hallway to my room. He tried to shrug me off, and he was surprisingly strong, but I was stronger. One of the many reasons the Council had kept me alive and on their side.
