Chapter 1
Sam
“Layla!” I shouted over the idling engine of the SUV that had just plowed through the barn and skidded to a stop. Only moments prior, Layla and I had grabbed Orion and Luna from the cribs in the North Dakota farmhouse where their kidnappers were keeping them and fled.
We’d just approached the opening of the barn when the SUV sped toward us. We had no choice but to separate. She’d gone right, and I’d darted left.
Fuuuuck! Why couldn’t we catch a break? We were so damn close to freedom with our children.
“Tripp, come in!” I shouted into my comm as I fished out earplugs from my pants pocket and inserted them into Orion’s ears. Layla and I hadn’t had enough time to protect Orion and Luna before we ran out of the farmhouse.
Then I pulled out my gun from the holster on my leg as I ran around the backside of the barn with my son Orion strapped to me in a padded baby carrier. Thank fuck we had the fortitude to think ahead about a baby carrier so our hands were free to use weapons.
“Layla!” I called out as loudly as I could despite the howls, growls, and gunfire splitting the thick night air all around me.
The barn was still collapsing, the wood splintering and creaking like a thousand cries for help. I prayed like a motherfucker that Layla had made her escape with Luna to our rendezvous point north of the farm where Olivia should be waiting in a getaway vehicle.
I tried Tripp again, then Olivia. Nothing from either of my Vampire Navy SEAL comrades.
“Sam.” Layla’s tight voice was high and loud and carried over the rampant noise. “Get Orion to safety.”
Orion squirmed in my arms as if he was reacting to his mother’s voice.
“Yep, that’s your mom,” I said. “And we’re not leaving without her or your sister.” I slowed to a walk at the corner of the barn and peered around to find a black SUV idling, taillight on and the back door open. “Where are you, Layla?”
“I’m dealing with an issue,” she responded, sounding closer now. “Just go.”
“Who’s with you?” I shouted.
I could barely see the driver’s head, but there wasn’t anyone else in the vehicle.
“Sam Mason, why don’t you join us?” a very familiar voice said in a snarky tone.
“Roman Brown, is that you?” I asked through clenched teeth.
That motherfucker was like a cockroach that wouldn’t die. Those fuckers could live through the depths of hell and come out unscathed.
“It seems we meet again.” He had too much excitement in his voice for my liking. “Now show yourself and hand over your son. You and Layla are not leaving this farm with your children.”
“Wanna bet, asshole?” I fired back.
I was fed up with fuckers like him wanting my DNA to further their own twisted schemes for power, money, and control. Now my wife and children were the target, not only of Roman but also of Maeve Monroe—Layla’s great aunt and a powerful witch who I hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting yet. She wanted my wife dead and all four of my children for a blood ritual so she could fulfill a prophecy of becoming a Mystic witch with ultimate power.
Not fucking happening.
Think, man. The vehicle that had driven through the barn had to at least have a driver in it. But if I knew Roman, he had an army with him, which was evident by the multitude of growls, howls, and gunfire.
“I am going to have some fun with Layla!” Roman yelled over the distant battle sounds. “I might not have your niece, Abbey, yet, but I can do wonders with your wife. I understand she’s a Monroe witch. That means she has supercharged abilities. There are many of my colleagues who will pay top dollar for a witch.”
I gritted my teeth so hard I believed one cracked. Roman Brown, head of one of the largest blood cartels among our kind, had to die.
“Touch Layla or my daughter, and I’ll rip off your balls and stuff them in your mouth until you choke to death.” My voice was caustic and brittle. “Layla, hang tight.”
Stick to the plan, dude. Get Orion out of there. You’ve come too far to fail now.
It had been a grueling fourteen days since Orion and Luna had been snatched from their cribs at my sister Jo’s house in Maine. Two solid weeks of anguish and close calls with death. Not to mention Layla taking the life of her paternal grandmother Harriet Aberdeen. In a short span of time, my wife had been subjected to more bad shit than anyone I knew. To say she was resilient—one of the many qualities that had drawn me to her—was an understatement.
Nevertheless, Layla didn’t stand a chance against Roman—not unless the blood she’d drunk from her maternal grandmother several minutes ago unlocked her witchcraft.
Even then, Layla had no idea how to wield magic. So I wasn’t abandoning my wife to deal with Roman or even Maeve by herself.
“Tripp, come in,” I said into my comm. “Anyone.”
I needed someone to take Orion so I could fight freely without hurting him or throwing him in harm’s way.
“Go,” Tripp said, breathing heavily.
“Finally. Thank fuck. Where are you?” I rubbed Orion’s back to keep him calm and hopefully to slow my racing pulse.
“Near the road on the backside of the farm. I just severed the head of a brute of a vampire,” he replied. “Get the fuck out of there. Kendra just called. Maeve is on her way from the gala. I would rather not deal with that powerful witch.”
Me either. “Roman has Layla and Luna.”
“Fuuuck!” he shouted in my ear. “I’m on my way. Don’t do anything until I get there. Where’s Ben and Kraft?”
Oh fuck.
“I don’t know. Ben was in the loft, but the barn is on its last leg. And Kraft followed me around to the front of the house earlier. That was the last time I saw him.”
Maeve had cast a spell on the entrances to the doorways of the house to ward off vampires, so I hadn’t been able to enter. Layla had fixed that problem with her banshee scream—a weapon of sorts that had broken down the magical barriers Maeve had erected.
“Ben should be fine,” I replied. My SEAL brother was half vampire and half human. If he was under the rubble, he would survive, as would Kraft.
“Do you have Orion?” Tripp asked into my comm.
“Yes. I need to get him somewhere safe so I can fight.”
Someone swore and growled nearby.
I jerked to my left and stepped out from the shadows with my gun trained on the rubble.
A tall familiar figure emerged covered in dirt and dust.
“Motherfucker,” Ben said, throwing wood planks off himself. He raised his arms, the whites of his reddish-brown eyes standing out in the dark of night. “It’s me, Sam.” He climbed over piles of splintered wood planks, blood dribbling down from his temple only to coagulate as it stopped, thanks in part to his half-vampire side.
“I found Ben,” I said to Tripp in my earpiece.
A beam of orange light lit up the darkness behind Ben.
Suddenly, he was grabbing his head, wincing and swearing once again. “What’s happening to me?” He stumbled, spun around, and whipped out his gun, pointing it at the young, brown-haired woman. “She’s doing something to my head. It feels like she’s crushing my skull.”
Her palms pointed toward the star-laden sky, and her orange eyes were twin spotlights shining in our direction.
I, too, trained my weapon on her. But she didn’t seem fazed at all about the fact that she was about to die.
“Is this what a witch looks like when using their powers?” Ben asked in a pained voice. “Eyes filled with fire?”
The woman stood about ten feet from us, her arms stretched out as she mumbled foreign words I couldn’t understand.
Orion started crying.
I realized whatever she was doing was probably hurting Orion. He was wrapped in a bulletproof blanket, but that wouldn’t protect him from witchcraft. On the other hand, I wasn’t affected, since I was wearing an infinity protection bracelet to ward off any spells cast by a witch.
“Sam, go,” Ben said. “Get Orion out of here. I got this.”
We had no clue how to fight a witch, and while I would normally have his back, I needed to reach Layla before Roman and his men hauled her away. I was about to take off when the witch extended her arm in my direction.
With an accompanying flick of her wrist, she said, “You’re not going anywhere, Sam Mason.”
“Wanna bet?” I growled as I lifted my foot to move—but couldn’t. It seemed my boots were stuck in the dirt.
Motherfucker.
Ben fired his weapon at her. The bullet stopped in midair inches from her face before dropping to the ground.
She guffawed. “You vampires don’t stand a chance against witches like me. And once my mother arrives, all of you, including the werewolves with you, will be dead. Then we’ll have your son and daughter in our arms once again. We already have people heading to retrieve your two daughters.”
Fury blazed through me as a knot twisted in my gut. I would like to believe no one could penetrate the shifter compound in the Catskills, but anything was possible.
“You must be Patricia.” When Layla had been inside the house, she’d demanded through her comm that someone find Patricia, Maeve’s daughter.
“You’re correct,” she returned in a distinct mousy tone that rattled my nerves. “I’m as powerful as my mother.”
For a second, I wondered if she was the woman who’d been with Norman Collier in the nursery that night my kids had been kidnapped. Layla’s sister Jordyn had heard a woman’s voice.
My answer came swiftly when a summer breeze whipped up the dust from the pile of wood from the barn and mingled with the scent of eucalyptus. Sure, the plant could be growing nearby. But it wasn’t a coincidence that the vampires guarding the Maine house that night had smelled eucalyptus right before they’d passed out. Plus, one of the guests at the Dewsbury Inn had checked in under the name of Patty Smith. Patty was short for Patricia.
“You kidnapped my babies from the nursery,” I said rather than asked. “You were with the vampire guardian, Norman Collier.”
“Guilty as charged,” she boasted, reminding me of Roman.
“You vampires didn’t even see us coming. Our cloaking spell wins every time.”
Movement to my right made Patricia whip her head toward whoever was approaching.
I took that time to holster my gun, rip off my bracelet, and place it in Orion’s carrier, hoping it would keep him safe from witchcraft. Besides, it was time to show this witch what I was capable of.
I lifted one foot, then the other. She must’ve broken the spell when whoever was approaching drew her attention away from me.
Tripp eased out of the shadows, wasting no time in firing at Patricia. She blocked every bullet as if she had a shield of armor, chanting a series of mumbo jumbo words.
Ben joined in but also failed to hit her.
Let’s see what the bitch can do against my elemental powers.
I dug deep for the prickly heat that came right before my fire element kicked in. Rage flooded my veins as that tingling sensation zipped down to the tips of my fingers. I swung my arms back, then forward, launching one fireball, then another.
A ring of fire circled her but quickly died as she jerked her head in my direction and laughed. “Come on, vampires. Show me what else you got.” She raised her hands into fists, keeping an eye on Tripp, Ben, and me.
I threw another fireball.
As a Vampire Navy SEAL, Tripp could wield two elements, not four like me. He was known more for manipulating water than fire. But with no water in sight, he bowed his head, bared his fangs, and rubbed his palms together. Flames spat through his fingers before he opened his hands and flung softball-size spheres of fire at Patricia.
One was on a trajectory to hit her head. At the last second, she flicked her wrists at Tripp, and the fireballs dissipated. Then a crisp snapping sound cracked through the air. Suddenly, Tripp was flying backward.
Ben was reloading his gun when she turned on him.
“Bullets won’t hit me, asshole,” she said to him right before she swung her arms out from her sides, then in a flash, clapped her hands together.
Ben froze, turned the gun on himself, and pulled the trigger several times until he fell to the ground.
“Your turn, Mason.” She stomped toward me, her orange eyes deepening in color as she waved a hand toward me.
“I don’t think so.” I kept throwing fire at her unsuccessfully.
She flicked her wrists, and my body stiffened.
I tried to move my legs but couldn’t.
She cackled loudly. “My mom will be so proud of me.”
Orion started bawling.
“I will end you, bitch,” I sneered.
She trudged toward me. “No, you won’t. You can’t win a fight with a Monroe witch.”
I wanted to say, “My wife will gut you,” but until Layla had her witchcraft, she couldn’t best Patricia, no matter how good Layla was with daggers—or any weapons, for that matter.
The closer Patricia got, the less clearly I could think. My brain suddenly felt fuzzy.
She chanted some gibberish lines followed by “You’re not a powerful vampire anymore, Sam Mason.” She unhooked Orion from me.
I couldn’t move my arms or legs or do a damn thing. I stood there like a fucking lump on a log while she hauled my son into her arms.
“Come here, little one,” she cooed.
I growled, baring my fangs at her, itching to tear out her carotid artery. But even my head wouldn’t move.
With the snap of her fingers, I heard the bones in my neck crack before darkness consumed me.
