Free to Love (The Tribe MC: Chase of Prey Book 3) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  Free to Love copyright 2015 by Heather West. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

  CHAPTER 1

  The cursed Queen? What was Darlo talking about? Confused and still woozy from the music and the potent drab that had been added to the wine, Cara stood frozen, watching the rogues attack the Tribe’s magic circle.

  Horror and shock was gone, and anger was brewing inside Cara. Sebastian was leaping into the fray, his blond hair shimmering in the firelight and the silver on his arms and neck glittering as he fought a rogue that had tried to snatch a small Tribe child.

  Did Darlo mean Sebastian? What Queen was he referring to? Was it her? No, that was not possible: she had no children. She shook those thoughts away as more rogues poured into the circle. Behind the rogues came the Wolves, and it was obvious that Sebastian had led the wolves there because he had known this would happen.

  The Wolves fought the rogues. The sound of motorcycle engines had been replaced by the screams of the dying and the howls of Wolves and rogues alike. The moon, a mere sickle in the sky, barely illuminated the grisly scene unfolding all around them.

  Cara glimpsed Darlo being tackled by a rogue. Cara cast a spell, hoping to save the Elder’s life, but it was too late. The rogue tossed him like a ragdoll, spilling his blood into the bonfire that she danced around just moments before.

  Not thinking, and not wanting to think, Cara simply reacted. She held her hands up and allowed magic light to flash from her palms. A rogue went down, its fur ripping open to reveal the human within before bone and meat exploded into flames that rapidly became ash.

  Sebastian was in trouble. Several rogues had banded together to attack him. Cara ran toward him, casting a spell as quickly as she could. Fire erupted from the earth, catching one of the rogues in its grip. The rogue howled as its paws ignited; the attack only slowed it down for a moment, but Sebastian took advantage of that moment. He thrust a huge silver blade into the rogue’s lower belly, slitting it neatly.

  The rogue toppled onto its side, blood and gore staining the earth and Sebastian’s hands with its stinking, iron-rich slickness.

  Cara drew even closer to Sebastian. There was a woman fighting next to him; Cara didn’t know who she was, but it was obvious that she loved him, and that she was protecting him. Despite herself, Cara felt jealous, and her emotion lent power to her next spell. The massive rogue that Sebastian had just killed lost its head to the long silver sword that appeared in her hand. Cara had no idea how she’d managed to make that happen, or where the sword had gone after it struck that fatal blow. All she knew was that one moment she was looking at a rogue’s body, and the next she was looking at a man’s.

  The woman fighting with Sebastian let out a strangled cry of grief and stepped forward. She reached her hands out to touch the dead man on the ground. Sebastian yanked her back just as the body ignited and began to turn to ash.

  “Father,” Moira wept.

  Sebastian looked stricken but determined. Cara knew then that this woman was his sister, and the man on the ground had been their father. Pity filled her, but she could not allow that to distract her. Tribe were dying everywhere at the hands of the rogues; she had to save her people.

  All around them there was chaos. The sound of motorcycles had begun again, and Cara could see the hardcase members of the Tribe — Sammy, Tick, Dog and the others — riding those huge chrome beasts into the fray.

  The fire was scattered, children were hustled into the nearest RVs and doors were locked. The strongest of the Tribe stood outside guarding them, doing their best to cook up spells that would keep the rogues reaching their children.

  It seemed to be working. Cara saw one rogue slam into a wall of blue power and yelp as it was hurled backwards by the magic. One of the Elders was firing a gun, an old-fashioned musket; inside the musket balls were sharp nails and silver. As soon as a ball hit a rogue’s flesh, it exploded, sending hundreds of nails throughout its body, ensuring its death.

  After that Cara did not have time to notice anything else. She found herself face-to-face with a rogue that seemed vaguely familiar. It stopped her, its lips raised back from its dripping fangs and foaming muzzle. Its eyes glowed with a feral and unholy light. It nipped at her, almost taking one of her ankles in its mouth.

  The silver sword was back in her hand. She was stunned by its appearance and its weight. How was this happening? It was coming, unbidden, from thin air!

  She brought the sword up, but she was clumsy with it. The rogue bared its teeth again, this time lifting its lips so high that she could see the gray–black and pink mottling its gums.

  Several more clumsy thrusts and parries with the sword left her arms aching. She was out of breath and becoming frightened. The roar of motorcycles had not abated — the hardcase guys who rode with the Tribe and others, perhaps human members of the Fallen’s gang, were slashing in and out of the battle.

  The fire had spread and split off. Several people were trapped behind walls of fire, but they weren’t trying to get past it — it protected them from the rogues. The fire illuminated the eyes of Cara’s opponent rogue as it drew closer, a low rumbling growl issuing from its throat. Cara shuddered, but held her ground.

  The rogue leaped at her with a ferocious speed. It was sheer instinct that sent her spinning, the sword whirling over her head. Blood rained down and the rogue fell to the ground, whimpering in agony as it landed on its back. Unphased, she lifted the sword again, and dispatched its head neatly.

  Her lungs were squeezed dry when a heavy weight landed on her back; Cara was thrown forward into the dirt and grass. Her bare knees stung as the flesh was peeled away by small rocks and tough stringy grass. Pain lanced through her, making her cry out. She managed to flip over onto her back, and when she looked up, what she saw astounded her. Ion was on top of her, his profile outlined by the scant moonlight.

  Like the rogues, his lips were pulled back and his teeth were showing. Despite his human face, he looked like an animal. And she hated him in that moment.

  “Get off me!” She twisted and fought, her fist coming up to pound against his chest and shoulders. The sword was gone; she would have loved to have known how she was getting it in her hand and where was going, but it seemed that right then was not the time to go seeking out that answer. “I said, get the hell off me, Ion!”

  “Shut up! I’m taking what’s mine! The rogues have given me permission to keep you even though they know you could destroy them. Since you haven’t yet been declared Queen, they aren’t very worried about you just yet.” Ion held her wrists down. “Since you’re never going to mate with that Wolf again and any child you bear will be mine, they have no reason to fear your child either.”

  Fear her child? What did that mean? She shoved him harder, her fingers pressing against his flesh so strongly that one of her fingernails snapped off at the quick. Tears stood up in her eyes but she fought them back, refusing to let him see her cry. “How dare you? Get the fuck off me!”

  “You belong to me!”

  “The hell I do!”

  “Yes, you do. Did you think I waited around for you all these years to see you run off with some bastard Wolf?”

  She never had time to answer that. A rogue plucked Ion off of her body neatly, lifted him high in the air and broke his back
with a sharp cracking sound that Cara knew she would never forget. The sound of the bones breaking was like thunder in her ears.

  “Never trust a rogue,” Cara said as she shot to her feet. The sword was nowhere to be found but there was dirt in her fists and she threw it, temporarily blinding the rogue. It dropped Ion to the ground where he lay screaming in agony. Cara tossed a spell at the rogue, but she was tired or weakening, because it only glowed a faint pale blue then flickered out.

  Sebastian came running in, his knife at the ready and his silver knuckles flashing. He jumped on the rogue’s back, pummeling it with his silver. He slashed and cut as well, his knife leaving wounds that healed almost immediately. Cara had never seen a rogue heal so quickly. Rogues didn’t have the same healing abilities that werewolves did, or at least they shouldn’t. Rogues gave up everything, including their mutant healing abilities and their immortality to live as wild animals, to hunt and to eat human flesh.

  Or maybe that wasn’t true anymore either. The whole world had been turned upside down; the Covenant had been smashed and broken; the truce was gone and these were the consequences.

  But perhaps the consequences weren’t as bad as the Tribe ancestors had once imagined they would be. Here they were: the Fallen and the Tribe working together to rid the world of rogues.

  Ion’s looked up at her. His face contorted with anguish; he was paralyzed from the neck down. “Kill me,” he whispered.

  She wanted to, but she couldn’t. “You can still live, Ion.”

  “No. I let them bite me. I let them drink my blood because I thought it made us brothers. They lie, Cara.”

  Of course they did. Had he expected anything else? Cara did Ion the favor he asked: she drove the sword deep within his body then she staggered back in disgust, her cries ringing out into the dark. She was repulsed and angry at the man dead on the ground before her, and the rogues who had turned him into a traitor.

  The rogues began to leave the battlefield. Several of the bikers chased them past the circle. Gunfire sounded out and howls — both human and inhuman — rose high into the air. The sound of the motorcycles was comforting and familiar.

  Cara found herself with her back pressed against Sebastian’s as they battled two rogues who were circling them. Sebastian’s went down first and then he spun around and helped her dispatch the one attempting to kill her. All around them the dying sobbed and cried out. Even those who were not wounded wept and screamed as they found their loved ones bloodied, bitten and savaged.

  The battle was over. But the war had only begun.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sebastian faced the tattered remnants of the Tribe and his own people. His nephew, Devon, stood by his side, his hands and face streaked with rogue blood and tears welling up in his clear blue eyes. It had been a long night; the young man had every right to weep. He was not the only one silently spilling his grief down his pale cheeks either.

  Nobody spoke as the body of Ion crisped and burned, turning to ash. A Tribe member who had willingly become an accomplice of the Fallen? It was unheard of — or maybe not. Perhaps even now, there were more accomplices hiding right here in their midst.

  Cara looked around at the shocked and miserable faces of the people who had weathered the battle. They had a larger and more daunting task ahead of them now. The people who had been bitten must be killed, and the ones who had died must be put to rest.

  One woman was wailing loudly, bent so tightly over the body of her husband that she looked like a bow that had been pulled back to loose an arrow. Blood dripped down her hands, coating the earth and grass below her knees. Cara’s heart ached with pity. What if that had been her there in the muck and blood, weeping for someone she loved?

  Not that there weren’t plenty of Kris down. Darvo was gone, his head already removed from his body by Nico, who had not wanted to make his mother witness her son rising only to be killed again. Jaelle was gone as well, and Cara could not check the flow of tears running down her face. Jaelle had been like a mother to her after her own mother had died; she had often bucked the woman’s demands, but she had always known that Jaelle did whatever she did because she loved her.

  It had been Jaelle who suggested she become a lawyer. Jaelle, who had secretly hated the criminal activities in which the Tribe was engaged.

  Cara could not do much to help the living, but there was something she could do to help the dead. And maybe, just maybe it would help the living as well — even if many of them hated her for it later.

  The spell flew from her fingers and that clean blue light flashed and spread across the bodies of the Tribe and the ashes of the rogues and wolves that had died here tonight. There were cries of anguish as the heads of the dead split from their bodies, some of them rolling away in a motion that Cara had not foreseen. Nausea spiraled up and she turned away, but the spell began to fizzle out when she did so; she had to bear witness.

  The Tribe wailed and many of the Wolves wept as well. Sebastian’s twin sister Moira was crying unashamedly as she held a Tribe woman close — the woman’s teenaged son lay decapitated at their feet and bite marks savaged one side of his once-sturdy body.

  One woman was weeping harder than most. Her daughter had been bitten but was still alive. The bite lay on her upper thigh, ugly and swelling. It was the bite of a rogue and the girl’s beautiful face was already turning, her features contorting. Cara moved closer but the woman stumbled to her feet, holding her daughter close to her bosom as she screamed, “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare!”

  “I have to. I’m sorry.” The words were a whisper. They lanced through Cara like a hot knife. Sebastian reached out for her and held her back.

  “No, you don’t. I will speak for her. We will speak for her.” Sebastian raised his voice so that the whole crowd could hear. “The Fallen will take in any bite victims who wish to live as wolves loyal to the rules of the Fallen rather than go rogue.”

  Silence fell.

  “Her name… her name is Olivia.” The woman staggered toward Sebastian, holding her daughter’s body against her own. Tears ran unchecked down her lined cheeks. “She’s good at swimming, one of the best on her class. She might be able to go to college on a scholarship.” Her voice faltered. “She’s a good girl. Please, please take her.”

  “It has to be her choice,” Sebastian said.

  Olivia whispered, “I don’t want to be a rogue. I don’t want to die. Please help me.”

  Sebastian stepped forward, but he was held back by Devon. The young man had a look on his face that Cara had seen before: Olivia was beautiful and Devon was smitten. “I will make her Pack and Fallen,” Devon said.

  Olivia’s mother wept, but Olivia did not. She smiled up at the handsome young man who bent his head to her wrist and placed his teeth gently on the inside of it. Blood spilled across his lips and then he ripped open his own wrist, spilling his own blood across her mouth.

  Sebastian scooped a silver ring off his finger; many others began to come forward to offer silver, some of it taken from the dead it had not helped to protect. They covered Olivia in silver and she slumped onto the ground. They all knew this was not as easy as it looked; the young girl would have a long road ahead of her. She might not make it, and even if she did there was always the chance that one day she would face others of the Tribe, and face them as a rogue.

  Either way, she was Fallen now.

  Nico and the other Elders began to issue orders. The people within the caravans came out to help bury the dead. Spells were cast and prayers were said. The children were protected as much as possible, but everyone knew that they would never forget the horror that they had seen here tonight. Nobody wanted them to forget it either.

  When Cara, along with some of the other women, went to check on the children kept huddled in the RVs, she was astounded by their resilience. They were already accepting the juice, cookies and other treats that were being handed out. Many of them were still sobbing, but they had begun to comfort each other and themselv
es. One or two of the older girls were combing the hair of the younger girls, while many of the older boys were showing some of the much younger ones their prized possessions: knives, magical coins and the like.

  The adults were not quite as resilient. Many of them had been dealt a blow from which it would take a very long time to recover.

  Nico and Sebastian were working together to dismember the bodies of those who had died from the rogue’s attack. Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched them, her father and her lover.

  These were the two men who mattered most to her in the entire world and she had been afraid that they would never reconcile their differences; that they would always remain enemies.

  Everything that was important to her was right here: her people, her need for justice, and her never-before-realized desire to love and be loved by a man like Sebastian. Everything she loved was threatened, everything she held dear was at risk.

  At that moment Cara knew what ka really was. She knew that her destiny was to protect as best she could. Her dream of being a prosecutor was not over, at least not yet, but there were larger injustices in her world, and that was where she had to start. Until this was over, until her people and her love were safe, everything else would have to wait.

  That knowledge brought sorrow to her heart, but she withstood it. When this was over there would be time for what she really wanted and needed. At least, she hoped so.

  Nothing was guaranteed. Nobody was safe. All they could do at this moment was fight as hard and as long as they could to withstand the tide of the rogues and the darkness that they threatened to bring with them.

  CHAPTER 3

  Cara was tired. They all were. They knew they could not stay there. They had worked as quickly as possible in order to clean up the carnage, but eventually someone would report the fire and the gunshots, if they had not already.

  To try to hide the evidence, Cara and several other women cast a spell across the burial grounds to make the earth flat and smooth, betraying none of the bodies that lay beneath it.