Everett was actually sleeping well for once. After seeing Mal and eating a really good meal, he'd been given the next day and a half off. Mordecai had some business to take care of so he was going to be gone most of the next day. When he returned, he was going to help Everett tdo the one thing the firebird was known for.
He was going to coax him through shapeshifting into the great red bird.
He should have been excited, but seeing Mal had pushed it all away. He had been more excited for that hour he had had with the werewolf than anything else that had happened.he could now control the fire racing through his veins, but that had taken a backseat when he'd been held by the other man.
He could still feel his touch no matter what he'd done. It wasn't like he was trying to hide or wash it away. In fact he truly wanted more, but he knew he had to stay here. Mal was doing the best he could as was Everett. They both had to wait for not only them to be safe but the pack as well. Everett was certain if he needed to he could walk away, but he wouldn't take what Mal needed the most from him when he did. He needed that pack more than he needed the younger man so he had to keep it intact.
No matter how much he loved Mal or the way he made him feel, if it was what was best for the other man, Everett would do it. If he couldn't control his baser instincts, he couldn't be that close to Mal and the pack. He would have to leave. So the few days he was away was so much more bearable than spending a lifetime away from him even though he was prepared to do it if it meant everyone was safe.
It was their biggest flaw. They couldn't be selfish because there were so many more people involved. Children were involved as well. If it came down to the greater good or them, they would always choose the greater good.
Because he'd seen and touched him, Everett had showered and gone straight to bed. He'd sunk into the mattress contentedly, sleep finding him immediately. So when he'd been shaken he'd thought it was a dream.
But it wasn't a dream. It was real. He sighed and rolled over. Bastian was standing at the edge of the bed. His face was drawn as he tried to rouse the young man.
"Get up. We have to go," he said. Urgency filled his voice, making Everett sit up. He rubbed his eyes. "Donovan's pack has been attacked. I don't know anymore than that. Now get up."
Everett didn't argue. He threw the covers off and got up. Bastian went to grab him some socks and his boots he'd been given. The young man pulled on pants and a shirt then took the offered items. When he was done, he followed Bastian from the room and down the hall.
The once quiet hallways were a flurry with movement. Several fae yelled orders, and others were fulfilling them. Everett watched, head swiveling from side to side. He hadn't seen this much movement from the fae at all.
Bastian led them down a gloomier hallway that Everett relized was their war machine. Though most fae were unable to hold cold iron, that didn't mean they didn't have any ways to defend themselves. Their armies were rumored to be the best in the world, even rivaling those of the ancient elves.
Wooden weapons lined the walls. Most were all wood, tips and all. Some were attached to metal. Those were axes, swords, arrows and some spears. The fae would know how to use all of them with ease and would know not to touch the ends if they were made of a metal that would harm them. Everett couldn't remember off the top of his head which ones those were, but he didn't see any iron.
Bastian pushed open another door and led them inside. He turned on a lamp and looked around the room. Everett watched him closely despite another yawn trying to escape. Whatever was going on back home, it was dangerous enough for them to hunt down armor from their reserves.
He took a light brown jerkin from the fae. He looked at it closely. The leather was soft, way softer than anything humans made. There was gold stitching along the collar and the arms, and silver filigree etched on the chest.
Everett slipped it over his head and began tightening the laces under his left arm. He watched Bastian tug his own over his head then grab a set of black leather gauntlets. He slung an empty quiver on his back and grabbed a dagger to shove in his belt.
"Are the fae going to war?" he asked.
"We're not sure, but we are going to defend our allies," Bastian explained. He looked at the other man. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be, but I need to know everyone is okay."
The other man nodded. "Let's go."
They left the room and started towards the entrance. Many were lining up, but Bastian walked right by them. No one asked any questions, but several did fall in line with them. Everett didn't care; he had to get to Mal.
~~~~~~~
Why did they keep coming? No matter how many they took out, two more tok their place. Where did Belizia get all of these people? Some were fae, some human, and some werewolves. There was no way she had won over all of them.
Mal dropped to the dirt as a spear whizzed over his head. He rolled then darted up. He was one of three pack members who was still human. Donovan was somewhere to his left, and Ezra was to his right ahead of him a little ways. The others were running interference to make sure the other werewolves didn't get close to the house.
Eveen with the full pack at the house, they were outnumbered three to one. The younger wolves were doing their best to keep them from getting access to the house. It left Mal, Ezra and Donovan to keep them as safe as possible. They were barely holding on.
Mal could see Belizia standing in the middle of everyone. She was looking around, eyes roving slowly. She was looking for Everett. For a brief moment, he was glad the other man wasn't here. He would hate to rip her head off. She was too pretty for that. But even the pretty ones could be bat ass crazy.
He rammed his fist into some man's face as he stalked forward. He had to get to her and find out why she was really doing this. There was more to the story. Someone had given her the information and urged her to do something. He was right to assume it was Dupree. He just had to prove it.
Mal worked slowly towards her. He would think she was clueless, but he knew better. Fae were notorious for being able to be doing one thing and completely capable of reacting to a threat. If he attacked her, she would have a defense for it. He needed to figure out a way to get past her natural defenses.
From what he could see, her external senses were focused, but her supernatural ones were expanded away from her. No one could get close without making a sound that she would undoubtedly hear. But it wasn't just those who were fighting around her. She ignored them but attacked the one who would harm her. He wasn't sure how she knew when she wasn't really attuned to that, but he knew she could hear whatever ill-intent was coming at her.
He slid between the cars, out of sight and down wind. He watched as she watched her surroundings. She was waiting for something. No, not something. Someone. She was waiting for someone.
She was waiting for Everett.
A hand landed on his shoulder before a nasty growl gave away his position. He was used to that hand at this point. Ezra had been scruffing him and holding him back for the last several days that it was becoming way too familiar. Mal sat still as the second dropped down beside him.
"What's your plan?" he asked. His voice was gruff, and when Mal looked at him, his eyes were gold. "I haven't seen any sign of weakness."
"You're not looking in the right place." He turned back to the fray and pointed just over Belizia's shoulder. "There's a slight pop over her left shoulder every time she pushes her powers out. It's her mere weak spot, and it's only visible for a brief moment. Her neck is her weak spot."
Ezra grunted. "What's your plan?"
"I don't have one. She's waiting for Everett. I don't want him here, but I will protect him if he comes."
"I'll be at your back."
The two men shared a long look. But for one person they would be on the same side. Mal really appreciated Ezra for not putting the moves on Everett. Bastian lived in a different realm so he wouldn't have to see him. If Everett had chosen Ezra, Mal wouldn't have been able to handle being in the same pack.
They watched for a moment or so more. Astra went flying over the hood of the car they were behind, landing hard and denting the metal. Her russett fur was singed in some places and matted in others, but her anger was still there. She slid in the dirt behind them then launched herself with a nasty snarl. They saw her claws glint as her massive paw swung through the air.
With their hiding spot made, Mal and Ezra rejoined the fight. They hoped they could knock down some of the members, but they just kept coming. Even Donovan was struggling with those around him. He was trying to hold the line at bay by the house, but alone he was failing.
There was a loud screech. When Mal looked up, he was dropped to his back. A fury of fists hit him in the face, chest, and stomach, and he barely had time to defend himself. A well-placed shot to the groin had him rolling onto his side to protect himself. By doing so, he brought more pain upon himself.
He tried to pull himself up when there was a loud yell. It wasn't from anyone he knew. He only hoped it was reinforcements because they weren't going to make it without them. There were too many people and they were outnumbered. It was only a matter of time before they breached the house and killed everyone. They needed help.
Mal was halfway to his feet. Due to the battle cry, the woman who'd attacked him had looked away momentarily, giving him the chance to get up and move. She looked at him and was prepared to attack again. Her feet slid shoulder width apart and her hands separated then began to glow.
Except this time she didn't. A blur of brown and greens filled his vision. An arm wrapped around the woman's neck and the body in front of him moved counterclockwise. The woman's body followed, falling back in a slingblade maneuver only seen in wrestling. When the person he'd stopped her stood up, Mal understood.
Everett glared down at the woman, eyes bright red with anger and hatred. When he looked up at Mal, his face was a mask of what it usually was. It had to be, otherwise Mal would die.
Bastian flipped over the car, firing an arrow as he did so. He used the end of his bow to slice two of them. Using the string to cut some throats, he stopped by Everett with a flourish.
"The pups could use an advantage," he suggested.
Mal watched as Everett headed back to the house. He needed Bastian's help standing just as fire swept the front of the house ten feet from the entrance. He would have been alarmed had it been even a foot closer but Everett had constructed it as a barrier to keep them safe.
"Dupree's on his way," Bastian muttered. Mal looked at him, first in shock then anger. "He's not far behind us, but neither is my mistress. We left before they did. He was worried."
"Take me to Donovan," the werewolf muttered.
Bastian didn't argue. He helped Mal across the yard, fending off those who attacked them. Mal had to be heavy. Half his weight was against the fae's body, but Bastian didn't seem to notice. He moved with ease as if it didn't really matter what he was carrying.
Ezra slid in just as a volley of arrows rained down. A wave of fire blasted them out of the sky. Everett baseball slid, taking the feet out from an attacking fae. Bastian called his name at the same time he popped up on his feet. When Everett looked at him, he tossed a dagger. The other man caught it and spun, slicing the blade across a fae woman's throat.
"What the hell have you done to him?" Ezra asked. There was intrigue on his face mized with wonder.
"I didn't train that," Bastian objected.
"It's instinct." Donovan sat down heavily. His face was dirty and there were several cuts healing, but his eyes were focused. "His training awakened every instinct he was born with. Even his former self wasn't this proficient, and I fought in WWI with him."
Ezra glanced at him. "I was born after WWII. How damn old are you?"
Donovan's smile was infectious despite their situation. He had told them some briefly earlier. "I'm older than the printing press."
Everyone looked at Bastian. The fae laughed and shook his head. "I'm way older than that."
Somewhat settled, they started getting to their feet. Astra and her wolves settled behind the blaze to protect the house. Donovan got to his feet, Ezra and Mal flanking him. Bastian stood by Mal, and Everett stopped several yards ahead of them.
Mal's attention went to the young man. He looked formidable now, and if he wasn't sure about it, he would think he was a threat. But he turned to look at him and gave him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing but his body had changed. Mal couldn't help the dubious thoughts that went through his mind. He was going to enjoy getting him alone after this was over.
A familiar shreik rent the air. Everett looked back just as Belizia launched herself at him. He in turn met her halfway, two colosusses meeting in battle on a farm.
Another cry, this time a battle cry, sounded at the edge of the property. Two small armies met on the gravel, one was led by Almain Dupree. The other had Annaliese at the helm. Both looked ready for blood.
At the end of the mile long drive, the two armies clashed.
Bastian groaned. "Well shit."
The werewolves couldn't help but agree as swords clashing filled the night air.