By the Gods, what a mess. Donal took a step toward her. “That was when you were cubs, sweetheart.”
Which might be part of the reason Oliver hadn’t jumped in. He didn’t see himself as a protector. It’d been Margery’s job—and how fucked up was that?
“You’re not cubs now. He’s bigger, stronger, and trained to fight.” Tynan’s voice was very level.
“Even if he wasn’t…” Donal shook his head. “Margery, as Daonain, we protect our females—”
She ran out of the library room, fleeing much as her brother had.
Well…Donal rubbed his gut where her fist had impacted. Not quite like her brother.
That did not go well. Tynan pulled in a breath, feeling like someone—a little wolf—had taken a bite out of his heart.
When Donal started to follow her, Tynan gripped his arm. “Let her go. She needs some time.”
And face it, a snarky cat wasn’t a good choice at soothing a female.
When Tynan finally led the way out of the library, he didn’t see her and had a moment of worry.
Please tell me she didn’t leave the house on a dark of the moon night.
Hearing female voices in the kitchen, he relaxed. She was with Breanne. Good. Bree was a soothing person.
Unsure what to do next, he took a chair in the sitting area. “We could have handled that better.”
Looking as unhappy as Tynan felt, Donal sat on the couch and held his hands out to the fire. “Punching the mangy-tailed maggot was the right thing to do. Reprimanding her brother though…”
“Aye, her brother.” That was the problem. Tynan rubbed the ache in his neck. “She hurts for him.”
“Aye. She might not forgive us for making him feel bad. Not any time soon.”
There was no answer for that truth.
The low sound of conversation came from the kitchen. Maybe Meggie would confide in the alpha female. Breanne might condemn Tynan and Donal, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t approve of Oliver’s inaction, either.
In the fireplace, a salamander pirouetted in the flames. Only one fire lizard tonight. Did salamanders get lonely?
Absently, Tynan rubbed his chest. The altercation with Meggie had lodged there with a dull ache. “We should have talked with her before tackling her brother.”
Donal snorted. “I figured that out right about the time her fist hit my gut.”
Angry female shifters could stay angry for quite a while. “I’ve seen human males try to placate their women with flowers or chocolate.”
Donal brightened. “Is it effective?”
“Maybe in decreasing the time to resolution. Not the ultimate results.”
“As in, if the relationship was doomed, it would still be doomed?”
“Alas, yes.”
“Still…” Donal turned to look at the kitchen. “What kind of chocolate would—”
A loud yell interrupted him.
That’d been Silas’s voice. Just outside the lodge. He screamed—a rising shriek that broke off with the gut-wrenching finality of death.
Fuck.
Tynan ran to the door, Donal behind him. He slapped Donal’s hand away from the handle. “Wait.”
Tynan edged the curtains apart. Metal bars covered the lodge’s front windows. A light over the door illumined an empty parking area. Vehicles were parked near the porch, off to one side.
There. On the far side of the gravel lot. Something the size of a grizzly moved. No fur. The light glinted off bony spiked plates and a shark-like head.
Tynan’s breathing stalled.
That was a hellhound, something he’d never seen before.
It stood over a body and a pool of black liquid. Blood. The amount indicated the victim was very dead. Tynan recognized the lime-green shirt that Oliver’s friend had worn.
“Yes, that’s Silas,” Donal murmured.
By the Gods. Every instinct Tynan had shouted for him to attack and kill the demon hound. It was his job to protect. But even the God-called cahirs didn’t take on a hellhound alone.
“Call Alec,” Tynan said quietly.
“Already on it,” Donal snapped, phone in hand.
To the left of the parking area, Shay in wolf form slid through the underbrush.
Thank fuck, it appeared the cahirs were already here.
Zeb in human form followed the wolf.
As the hellhound devoured its kill, Zeb and Shay separated for the attack, the wolf to the rear, Zeb from the side.
Suddenly, a shout came from a cabin down the lane. “What was that yelling?”
The hellhound turned…and spotted Zeb in the open. It charged, an unstoppable force. Even as Zeb shot his pistol, the demon hound ploughed into him, knocking the cahir onto his side, ripping at his shoulder and neck.
Snarling viciously, Shay attacked from the rear in a frantic effort to save his brother.
The hellhound spun, latched onto Shay’s front leg, and threw the wolf halfway across the lot. The wolf didn’t rise.
Gods help them. Tynan’s gut tightened. No choice.
“Lock the door behind me, mo deartháir.” Ignoring Donal’s protest, Tynan stepped silently out onto the porch.
Shadows moved in the forest on the right side of the lot, and a glimmer of hope awoke. The other three cahirs were coming, two on one side, one on the other.
But the hellhound was already stalking toward Shay to finish him off. Shay wasn’t moving.
The other cahirs would arrive too late.
Yelling, Tynan leaped off the porch to land right in front of the hellhound. Then he ran…ran faster than he ever had before.
No predator could resist fleeing prey.
As he tore across the lot toward the three cahirs, the scrabble of heavy claws grated in the gravel behind him. Closing on him.
What is going on? Who had screamed? Even as Margery ran into the living room, Donal shouted, “Lock the door,” and disappeared outside.
Outside. She reached the door, looked out, and horror met her eyes.
Tynan tore across the parking lot with a ghastly monster after him. Huge and gray and…it was a hellhound. Oh Gods.
Closer to the lodge, Donal sprinted toward someone on the ground. Blood spurted upward in rhythmic fountains—an artery had been torn open.
Zeb—it was Zeb. At that rate, he’d bleed out quickly.
Donal would save him.
But no, Zeb was growling, fighting Donal, pushing his hands away. The cahir was disoriented.
Margery’s hands closed into fists. Donal needed help. She took a step forward, and terror seized her. Hellhound.
But Zeb would die.
Her heart slammed so hard against her ribcage she couldn’t draw a breath. Hideous growling came from the other end of the lot.
She couldn’t help Tynan. Must help Donal.
Pulling in a breath against the constriction in her lungs, she abandoned safety and scrambled to Donal. She skidded the last inches on her knees and bumped against Zeb’s hip.
“Zeb. Easy, Zeb. Peace, cahir.” She took his hands—please, Mother of All, help—and pushed the calm of the Goddess into the cahir. “It’s all right, Zeb. You’re safe. We’re all safe.”
Such a lie.
But Zeb stilled, letting her hold his hands. His dark eyes were dazed.
“Bless you, banfasa.” Donal put his hands lightly on Zeb’s neck, stopping the arcing blasts of blood, and with a blast of power she could feel, healed the artery.