Page 38 of Wolf Queen Ruin
“We need to leave for the Darién Gap immediately,” Damien said, already reaching for his phone.“I’ll arrange a private charter to Panama then specialized transport to the border region.”
As he made calls, his voice shifting between English and Spanish, I gazed out at the New Orleans night, the city lights blurring as we sped back toward the Repository.My thoughts circled around everything we’d learned, including the five locations and the cryptic warning from Selene.
The Shadow Fang was clearly more than just a powerful healing artifact.It was the center of a web of ancient politics, prophecies, and magical consequences that stretched across centuries.
Selene’s parting words echoed in my mind:The Fang’s healing comes at a price.Be certain you’re willing to pay it before you proceed.
What price?And was I willing to pay it, whatever it might be?
The answer came without hesitation: I would pay any price.
I only hoped I wouldn’t discover too late that the cost was more terrible than I could imagine.
“Mr.Cross?”The voice came over the car’s loudspeaker.
Damien hit a button on the side door, his entire demeanor shifting to alert readiness in an instant.“Go ahead.”
“I don’t mean to alarm you, sir,” the driver said, “but I think we’re being followed.”
Chapter eleven
Damien
“Lowerallprivacyshields,James,” I said, shifting to place more of my body between Luna and our pursuers.
As the shields retracted with a pneumatic hiss, I turned to peer out the back window.Two vehicles, professional drivers, reinforced chassis, coordinated approach.This was no random attack.I figured we had about forty-seven seconds before they caught up with us, give or take.
Luna twisted in her seat to assess the threat, seemingly unfazed.“I’d almost be disappointed if we weren’t being followed.”
I forced my gaze away from the expanse of skin revealed by her movement, and she adjusted her dress where it had ridden up her thighs.My long existence had taught me focus during crisis, yet Luna Rookwood continued to be an exceptional distraction.
“Evasive protocol?”James asked.
“Yes.”
The car lurched sideways without warning, throwing Luna against my chest.I secured her instinctively, my arm encircling her waist as we careened down a narrow side street lined with historic architecture.Her scent engulfed me—wild honey, lemongrass, and beneath it all, the distinctive, tantalizing notes of her blood.
“Sorry,” she muttered, pushing herself upright while avoiding my gaze.“Is it Marcel?”
“Mercenaries, most likely.”I reached beneath the seat for the weapons case I’d brought from home.
After reading my thumbprint, the case opened, revealing a specialized arsenal.
I selected a handgun designed for accuracy in confined spaces and checked it.“Can you shoot?”
Luna hiked her dress up her thighs, exposing not only the weapons strapped to her legs but also the absence of underwear she’d mentioned earlier.
Despite everything, the rest of the world faded.I couldn’t help but stare.All my self-control, undone by one rebellious lack of cotton.Everything on display with, as Luna would say, “Zero fucks given.”I didn’t even think she noticed.
She unstrapped her gun and adjusted her dress.“Seriously?Can I shoot?A tomb raider who doesn’t know how to shoot—“
“Is a dead tomb raider,” I finished for her, tearing my attention behind us once again.
“Now you’re catching on.”
One black SUV accelerated, and I detected the distinctive metallic sounds of a weapon being prepared.The window lowered to reveal a tactical rifle—military grade, modified for supernatural targets based on the distinctive ammunition feed.
“Down!”I threw myself over Luna as the rear window shattered, glass fragments cascading around us like crystalline rainfall.
