Page 3 of Cosmic Power

He had not gotten the information he was looking for. That stubborn shifter remained loyal to his pack, his people, his Alpha until the very end. And a small part of Luther admired that. Loyalty was a hard trait to come by these days. The rest of him, however, was enraged by it.

For the last three days he had been scouring New York City for Barnabas’ location and had come up empty, not even a whisper as to where he could be hiding—and he had tortured a fair amount of werewolf shifters in his attempt to find out. Luckily for him, there was an abundance of them here to choose from, but they all answered to Barnabas.

Luther tugged on the strand of magic that connected Zamorra to him—the brand he had burned into her skin when he made her a servant of House Darkova—but nothing happened. He reached for it for what had to be the hundredth time in the space of seventy-two hours and still he felt nothing. Not even a slight remnant of her soul. Their connection was being blocked by something…someonepowerful.

He clenched his jaw and cracked his neck, trying not to let his rage consume him. He needed to keep a level head; not be so overcome with anger that he couldn’t see straight, let alone form any useful thoughts.

“My Lord.” Axel stepped up to his side, his cold grey eyes studying him with unease. “What now?”

Luther marched towards his SUV, his powerful footsteps echoing all around him like war drums banging before a fearsome battle, his Elite Guards falling into line behind him.

What now? It was a good question. His current plan obviously wasn’t working. None of the shifters were willing to betray their Alpha—not even to spare themselves an endless amount of pain and a horribly gruesome death.

Perhaps he was going about it the wrong way? Maybe it wasn’tthemhe needed to torture. Maybe it was someone they loved. Someone they treasured. Like…a female.

Luther remembered from his conversations with Zamorra how much female werewolves were coveted. If he had one of them at his disposal, his prisoners would have no choice but to talk, to save the life of their precious female.

An idea quickly flourished in his mind and he spun abruptly, catching his Elites off guard and making them skid to a halt.

He ran his eyes over the four of them. First Ophelia with her blazing red hair, porcelain skin and bright green eyes. She had been with him the longest, well over 1,500 years, and she was the one who disagreed with his actions the most out of all of them (although the jealousy and resentment she felt towards Zamorra played a big part in that).

Maddox had his shoulder length brown hair out of his face and tied up in a ponytail, his long lanky limbs in a dark suit and his slender face masked in a scowl.

Luther eyed him with distrust.

When he had returned to his mansion that night to find the place in shambles, the only real way to discover what had happened was to view the hidden cameras he had placed throughout his home. In doing so, Luther was able to find out exactly who had betrayed him.

No one, not even Margaret or his Elite Guards, knew of the hidden cameras—and that was the way he preferred it. When people thought they weren’t being watched, they tended to do things they weren’t meant to do, thinking they could get away with it. That no one was watching. Case in point: Maddox.

Maddox thought he didn’t know about his betrayal, thought that he had gotten away with double crossing him. But Luther knew. The best way to stay ahead of an enemy was disinformation. By knowing Maddox’s true allegiance, he was now able to filter what information Maddox received, therefore benefiting his agenda; whatever that may be at the time. For right now, all Maddox knew about his plans was that he was searching for Zamorra.

When the time was right, Luther would use Maddox to his advantage and catch Leilani in the act. That way, his maker would have no choice but to finally see Leilani for the traitorous bitch she really was.

Darius’ brown hair flowed in the wind as if it had a mind of his own, his brown eyes avoiding Luther’s dark orbs as he squirmed on the spot. Darius was the youngest of his Elite Guards and sometimes his inexperience and awkwardness shone through. He didn’t have confidence in his power as a vampire. Hewasonly 300 years old—a baby in vampire terms—but he was a skilled warrior who just needed to believe in his own abilities.

Lastly there was Axel, the only member of his House who actively sought the change from human to vampire and changed of his own free will.

Luther knew very little about his previous life. The only information he did have was that it was not a very good one. An endless cycle of abuse and poverty would make anyone want to alter their life permanently.

Axel’s grey eyes scanned their surroundings as he kept a tight grip on the demon blade at his waist, ever vigilant and always on the lookout for danger. Next to Roman, he was one of his most dedicated members to ever pledge his House.

Luther realised he needed to upgrade one of his soldiers to Elite Status to replace Roman’s absence. Possibly even a second for Maddox, too. Even though Luther did not need the protection of others, his status as Regent demanded it.

His Elite Guards continued to stare at him, awaiting his answer to Axel’s question. “Take the bodies and empty them into the street.” Luther barked, waving at the building they just exited from. “Carve them up, make them look ravaged and put their heads next to their bodies. Keep the fish hooks in place. I want the shifters terrified and running scared.”

Axel bowed and blurred away, off to fulfill his command.

“You three,” he pointed to his remaining guards, Darius, Maddox and Ophelia “find some more werewolf shifters, but this time I want you to trail them. Find out where their hideout is and report back to me with all the details.”

They all bowed in synchronisation, but Luther didn’t miss how Maddox hesitated briefly before doing so, red flickering through his green eyes. One by one they disappeared, Maddox being the very last one to vanish from sight.

Luther sighed and rubbed his temples, allowing himself a fleeting moment to let his feelings breach the surface. Such a long and endless night. He needed to take a walk to clear his head of the chaotic thoughts taking over his mind.

He walked past his parked SUV and headed out onto the noisy, busy streets of New York City. Cars whizzed past on the road. Humans and supernaturals alike trailed down the footpath, immersed in their own lives and problems.

His eyes flicked over everyone he passed with mild interest as he barrelled down the street, his anger simmering. New York had too many people, too much noise for his over heightened senses, and it was making his head thump like crazy.

He needed blood…the thick, rich substance being the only thing at this point in time that could quell his increasingly foul mood.

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