Words of Power (Alice Gray Book 3)

2

Becca Stone, resident panther shifter of the British wolf pack, lifted her nose, scenting the blood that was streaming down my face. One loud sniff and then a purr rumbled from deep in her throat.

"Nice makeover," she chuckled, golden eyes lingering on my split lip with an interest that wasn't comforting.

I tried to scowl but the pain nearly made me pass out.

"Can it Becca," Lucas said. "You should be with the pack."

They both stilled for a tense moment, eyes glued to one-another. It wasn't 'the' pack anymore. It wasn't Lucas's pack. He'd been the former Beta before his wolf had disbanded and chosen for itself. That was Becca's role now.

I still hadn't got used to how careful these guys had to be with their words. Lucas had just referred to the pack as though he still held the Beta position. That was a challenge.

The low rumble from Becca's throat was more a vibration than a noise. Heat distorted the air around her body. Her unusual yellow eyes got brighter, sharper somehow.

Shrinking into Lucas's chest, cold fear seeped through my battered body. Sensing my distress, Lucas adjusted his stance, moving to the side so that he wasn't facing Becca head-on.

He wouldn't drop his eyes. Even I knew that submission to a Beta was beyond his Alpha wolf's ability.

"What's the Beta of the British pack doing taking security gigs when the new Alpha still hasn't been chosen?" Emily asked, breaking the tension with a dismissive wave of her hand at the dominance show.

"What? You know this case is massive, right?" Becca stated boldly, trying but failing to hold Lucas's glare. She might be scary as hell but she was no Alpha. Not yet anyway. "Can't trust the defendant's safety to just any old werewolf. They're all after her."

Becca shot me another glance, trying to gauge my reaction. I was too tired to be scared.

Witches, vamps and shifters; they were all pissed at me. There were members of each group who weren't shy about voicing their 'right' to bring me to justice, and they didn't mean the DPA trial.

Becca was right. Vigilante justice was hovering on my horizon whether I liked it or not. What worried me was that the panther hired as my guard, may well be the first in line to attack.

Shifters were brutally efficient in combat. They had to be as the mercenaries of the paranormal world, out to hire as security to whoever wanted to pay. This time it was the DPA, and Becca had volunteered for the role. She'd been a model guard. If you discounted the bickering with Lucas. But like him, I couldn't figure out why she was risking the stability of the pack to babysit me. I'd have thought she'd be more than happy to let the bad guys have their fun. Shifters weren't exactly known for playing by the rules. They usually enjoyed a bit of mob justice.

We pulled into the quaint B&B that served as my makeshift prison. Me and a wolf and a panther. Emily stayed behind at Precentor's Court next to York Minster, not wanting to draw attention to our odd relationship by trailing along after us. The facility was deserted but for her, the DPA's main offices were with the Secret Intelligence Service at Vauxhall Cross in London. Proceedings were rarely conducted anywhere else, but the Northern Coven had argued hard for my trial to happen here, stating that there would be no way to ensure my safety in London.

Not when the shifters' Alpha was dead. One of the Southern Coven's witches was dead. And one of the oldest vampires in the country had perished by my hand. I shuddered at the memory of all the death and anguish.

In three days' time dignitaries would travel up to hear the case, just like they did in 1612 when the first Alice Gray was held for trial in Lancaster Castle.

The irony was not funny.

Instead of quarters at Precentor's Court, the DPA had thought it fit to house me in the most twee, chintzy, lavender scented guesthouse on the face of the earth. Guess they weren't quite as concerned about my safety as the shifter guard suggested. I'd feel happier in the castle dungeon than this doily covered, scary china doll filled house of genteel horrors.

You can imagine how surprised I was when the owner turned out to be a massive, hairy, grunting biker dude, with a huge bushy beard and limbs like tree trunks. But as I hadn't had much luck with sweet old ladies recently, it was actually kind of a relief.

The aroma of old cheese always lingered close to our landlord's shabby clothes, and mixed with the lavender scent of the B&B as we passed the threshold, it made my tender stomach bubble and roll. If Lucas didn't get me into bed soon, I was gonna hurl.

A gruff chuckle rumbled over my skin as Lucas angled through the gap between our host and the door. I hadn't said that out loud had I?

Through the large house, out the back, there was a small annex where we'd been secreted away until the trial. The flimsy plywood door was flung open by my cousin Anne, who halted her approach when she saw my damaged condition.

"Bloody Hell, Lucas, she could have gone easy on her, couldn't she?"

"The others won't, if they get their hands on her, and if she can't defend herself against a human, there's no hope for her."

"If they'd just let her magic thrive, she'd be able to defend herself. How's she supposed to heal herself now?"

"That's what you're here for Annie, love," Lucas sighed, tired at having this same argument over and over again.

"Fine," she said, relenting at the endearment. "But this isn't exactly my strong suit."

Anne approached me, hands out at the ready. I shrank back into the bed's headboard.

I knew what was coming.

And it was going to hurt.

Oh dear, things are looking grim for our Alice! But is she safe in the B&B with her pack? Read on....