Blood Bearon (High House Ursa Book 5)

  Blood Bearon

  High House Ursa Book 5

  Riley Storm

  Blood Bearon

  Copyright© 2019 Riley Storm

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, without written permission from the author. The sole exception is for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.

  All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.

  Edited by Annie Jenkinson, Just Copyeditors

  Cover Designs by Kasmit Covers

  1

  The first warning was a sudden lifting of the hairs on his neck.

  Khove stiffened slightly, careful to keep his reaction to a minimum. If it was just a random fluctuation of his body, the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt his Queen. She was deep in an important meeting. Even as his ears listened to her and her Council talk, his eyes scanned the depths of the Throne Room for threats.

  “Do we have anything confirmed?” Kaelyn, his Queen, was asking.

  “Not as of this moment.” That was the Captain, commander of the House Guard, the soldiers that protected the rest of the House.

  Khove caught the eye of his direct subordinate, giving him the wink pattern that allowed them to communicate silently, indicating he felt something was off. In moments, the entire six-man team of the Queen’s Own—her personal bodyguard detail—was brought to full alert without alarming the others. There was no proof yet. Still, the tingle on the back of his neck didn’t go away, and Khove had long since learned to listen to it.

  “How is it we can’t get any information from inside House Canis?” the Queen asked. Khove noted she sounded irritated. Did a potential situation inside the house of their biggest rivals really bother her?

  “Even our low-level contacts are refusing to talk to us right now,” the Captain replied again. “They’ve gone full radio silence. Nothing in, nothing out.”

  “That in itself is an indicator something’s up,” the Queen said, hitting a fist into her palm with a smack. “We knew things weren’t great over there. Could it really be here?”

  There were muttered rumblings around the rest of her advisors. Khove paid them no mind, his eyes penetrating deep into the shadows high up in the Throne Room. He scanned the multi-level balconies that ringed three sides of the large chamber at the heart of Ursidae Manor, the home of High House Ursa and its bear shifters.

  Sparing a quick glance at Knox, he confirmed his second-in-command wasn’t picking up anything either. The feeling was growing stronger. Khove knew he couldn’t wait much longer. His job was to protect the Queen, and if that meant potentially embarrassing himself for a situation that didn’t exist, it was his responsibility to endure that. Because what if something were about to happen?

  He must have shuffled slightly, some slight amount of movement to give away his unsettled nature, because Kaelyn’s head came around to face him. “Something the matter, Khove?”

  “Not sure,” he rumbled, eyes still searching the rest of the room. “Feels like it.”

  The others immediately came to alert as well. The Captain pulled out a phone and began speaking into it in low terms, communicating with his guards on the rest of the property. The Assassin and Champion both took steps out from the circle and faced the main doors that led to the Grand Hallway, setting themselves, just in case.

  Khove barely noticed the display of respect as the Title Holders of House Ursa immediately sprang into action at nothing more than a feeling of his. Few men could command such an immediate response, but he didn’t care. His priority was his Queen. He, Knox and the other four guards stepped forward, tugging at swords to loosen them in their sheaths, checking the pistols at their sides were also loaded.

  “My Queen, I’d like to get you out of here,” he said quietly, motioning toward the hidden door behind the set of raised stone thrones along the back wall. The Council were having a private meeting, and so the members were simply standing in the middle of the room. Vulnerable.

  Before she could react, everyone’s ears pricked up as a handful of dull thumps echoed through the air.

  “Those are explosions,” he said. “We’re under attack. My Queen!” He motioned again toward the door.

  His instincts screamed to grab his liege and haul her away, but Khove knew better than that. Kaelyn would just as likely hurl him across the floor as go along if he tried to herd her like cattle.

  “Khove, you and two others. Go see what it is.”

  Groaning, Khove tried not to betray his pain at her orders to do the exact opposite of his job. He glanced quickly at the other members of the Council, then at his Queen, as if to say why can’t they do it?

  “Now,” Kaelyn said.

  At least she wasn’t insisting on doing it herself. That was a small consolation. Khove snapped his fingers and took off for the huge copper-covered doors that led to the Grand Hallway and a straight shot out of the Manor. Two of his men followed. A moment later, he heard a fourth set of footsteps.

  Glancing over, he saw Kirell, the Captain, had joined them. “My men are out there.”

  Khove nodded. That was all the explanation they needed. The Manor and its property were Kirell’s responsibility to defend.

  Together, the quartet raced down the hallway in a blur, only slowing to cautiously exit the doors onto the grounds, where they were greeted by a sight new to Khove.

  “That’s not good,” he muttered.

  The sky to the west was illuminated. With the sun long having sunk behind the horizon, it should have been dark out. Instead, a barrage of light was striking against a massive golden barrier that only shimmered into existence when it was stuck.

  “It’s the wards,” Kirell said, speaking what they all knew.

  The House had defenses against both physical and magical attacks. Wards were spells created over a long period of time, one laid atop the other in a protective layer surrounding the entire property. They were the result of years of hard work by many different Magi, nearly impossible to defeat.

  Yet someone was trying.

  “Assemble the Guard,” Khove said, but Kirell was already speaking into his phone, issuing orders.

  “You two. Get back to Knox and the Queen. Get her to safety immediately. Do not let her boss you around. This is real.”

  Khove ached to go himself, but knew full well that Kaelyn would send him back to the frontlines. The Queen’s Own were the fiercest, most deadly group of warriors available to defend the property, and he was their head. While the Champion of the House was the best individual fighter, Khove knew he wasn’t far behind. He would be needed.

  Reality ripped apart on his left, and the Magi of the House stepped through, along with the aforementioned Champion, and the Assassin. Alarm bells began ringing throughout the House.

  “We need to get there fast,” Khove said. “We cannot wait for reinforcements.”

  The Magi nodded, dismissing the rent in reality he’d ripped to travel to their side from the Throne Room with one step. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, and gestured. The sword in his hand glowed green and ripped another rent. “This one leads to the Western wall. I’ll leave it open. Tell your men to use it to get there.”

  Then he stepped through it and was gone. Khove took a split second to steel himself, and then he followed the Magi. Traveling through rents was less than pleasant, but th
ere was no faster way to travel.

  His senses immediately recoiled. The sound of the magic being unleashed against the wards was ten times more intense this close, and he stumbled, overwhelmed by the noise momentarily.

  The others quickly followed, five of them against whatever was on the other side of the stone wall. There were no signs of attack yet, which meant that whatever was coming, it was magical in nature. No army of Canim came pouring over on all fours, teeth bared and ready to render flesh from bone. There were no men from House Panthera either, the huge and deadly cats easily a match for a bear. No birds of prey stooped from above, which meant House Raptere wasn’t present either.

  And of course, no dragons could be seen in the sky, but he didn’t bother to check. House Dracos was no more, as far as anyone could tell, the last of their members fading from the world over a century ago.

  Another blast of brilliant red energy coursed into the ward right in front of them, as if their unseen attacker knew they were there and waiting. The gold shield burst into appearance, wavered, then developed holes. It was faltering.

  A chorus of screeches and yells from over the wall announced the impending attack as shapes and creatures flung themselves over and into the shield. The first handful were ground to dust, their magical bodies no match for the ward. But as more struggled against the shield, parts of bodies began to drop through to the inside.

  “Ready yourselves,” Khove said, though he needn’t have spoken. The men with him were all trained professionals, seasoned in battle. Uranium-coated swords slipped from lead-lined sheath’s, their radiation-spewing blades the perfect match for anything magic.

  The first creature burst through the ward and lunged at them, only to be decapitated by a casual swing from the Champion’s blade. Another followed, and then a third. One by one the others stepped forward into the line, blades whirling as they fought back the tide.

  A mighty roar announced yet a further blast of magic, this one bright green. It burst against the shield, opening a wide gap. A horde of creatures poured through in all shapes and sizes.

  “Filthy fairies,” Khove growled, his blade taking a minotaur in the chest and slicing it in half, the radiation dispelling the magical flesh as it went.

  Nearby, a pack of centaurs formed up on the inside of the wall and bore down on the Magi. The Fae came in all types, mythical creatures of lore summoned from another reality by magic users. They had long been absent from the mortal plane, but it appeared someone had figured out the lost magic necessary to call them forth. It wasn’t the first time he’d fought them recently either, an ominous sign.

  The quintet backed away, holding the ground as best they could, every second increasing the likelihood they were about to be overwhelmed. None of them slowed or even faltered. If this was how they died, defending their home, then so be it. The horde of Fae would leave many of their number behind to win this ground.

  Khove grunted as he took a blow to the side, the hoof not drawing blood, but probably cracking a rib or three. Nearby, the Magi let loose with a scythe of red magic that cleaved a humongous hole in the enemy’s numbers, but it filled instantly as more came over the wall through the hole in the ward. Khove didn’t know how much longer they could hold. Their line was becoming ragged as the Fae drove between them, splitting them up, surrounding them.

  This was the end.

  A fierce bellow sounded, like a foghorn in the night. Then the earth began to tremble underfoot.

  “What have they got now?” he complained, dodging a taloned hand, one sword casually flicking out and removing it at the elbow from the owner.

  The rumble grew more intense, and Khove’s eyes kept darting over to the wall, expecting something to come smashing through the solid stone.

  Instead, the Fae around him slowed, their eyes looking about uneasily. A moment later, they began to back away. Khove frowned at the reprieve, finally able to look behind him.

  A solid line of titanic bears bore down on him and the beleaguered defenders of the wall. Running shoulder to shoulder, they sounded like an earthquake on four legs. The noise was deafening, a roar made from nothing but their weight as they ran. Each bear topped out at nearly two tons and standing fifteen feet or more high if they reared up.

  On they came, closing the distance in seconds. The mighty creatures flowed around the five exhausted defenders, slamming into the Fae like a steamroller. They didn’t stop, because fifty feet behind them came another line. And then another.

  House Ursa had been awakened, and now the Fae faced the full might of the bear shifters, angry their home had been attacked. It wasn’t a defeat. It wasn’t a route.

  It was a slaughter.

  Freed of his duties to hold against the Fae, Khove watched as the Magi went to war with the unknown mage on the other side of the wall. He was constantly amazed at the progress the newcomer had made in the past month. Though, it helped he had someone driving him, he thought, as a smaller, lither figure stepped up next to the Magi and added her magic to his own, the two of them evidently making it clear no attack would succeed today.

  The magic duel ended as the attacker gave up, one final blast of magic exploding against the outside of the stone wall, incinerating trees and driving Khove to one knee as he shielded himself against the heat.

  “What the fuck was that?” he snapped, more to himself than anyone.

  “That,” the Queen said, stepping up next to him as she joined her House on the field. “Was a message.”

  Khove respected his Queen and her willingness to not be held back, to fight alongside her men, but he instinctively moved to put himself between her and the wall. Just in case. It wasn’t safe here yet.

  “What was it saying?” he asked, though he had an inkling.

  “It was Korred,” she said, naming the infamous traitor to House Ursa that had been uncovered several weeks earlier during a doomed plot to take control of the House.

  “And he’s telling us he’s back.”

  2

  “Tell me again why the fire department can’t handle this?” she asked, holding the mic with one hand, steering wheel with the other.

  “Because, Detective Corningstone, we need to ensure the scene is safe first. The department is aware and a unit is ready to head out there once you secure the scene.”

  “Thank you, Dispatch,” she said monotone as Sherry quoted the rules to her. Rules she knew well on her own.

  “Anytime, honey. How’s the roads out there?”

  “Fine. Why, are they normally bad?”

  Rachel hadn’t ventured outside of Plymouth Falls much since she’d moved there, but she couldn’t see why they would be bad. There hadn’t been snow in a week, so everything was well-plowed by now.

  “The wind really picks up out there, dear, it can blow snow across the roads and make them ugly without warning.”

  “Well, doesn’t appear to have done any of that, Dispatch,” she said, holding in her sigh until she released the talk button on the side of the mic.

  “Glad to hear it, darling,” Sherry the Dispatcher said with that friendly manner of addressing anyone that was so prevalent in the country, even within the Sheriff’s department. “Now just let us know what the source of that smoke is, and we’ll get you back here for some coffee and—”

  “Don’t say donuts,” she laughed. “You know I don’t eat those things.”

  “I see you every morning in them pants of yours, Detective. I know you don’t eat them.”

  Rachel smiled at the backhanded compliment. Coming from Sherry, she didn’t mind. After all, she worked hard to keep herself fit and athletic for the job. It certainly didn’t happen because of genetics. Her job was important, and people relied on her to protect them. The stronger she was, the less chance the bad guy got away.

  The snow-covered landscape flowed by endlessly as she made her way out into the country. Every now and then, her eyes flicked up from the road to the sky to the north-west. The pillar of smoke was visible for m
iles around, and more than a few of the country residents had called it in, resulting in the Sheriff sending Rachel out to check on it.

  Life was dull in Plymouth Falls in the winter, to the point where their only true detective was sent out to investigate smoke.

  “What a wild life I lead,” she said to herself. Although she’d transferred to the PFPD for a change of pace, this was still a bit less than she’d expected.

  Still, it is beautiful out here, even in the dead of winter. Can’t deny that.

  Another twenty minutes of driving, and she still wasn’t any closer to the source of the smoke.

  “Dispatch, are you sure I’m going the right way?” she asked, glancing down at the GPS monitor in her car. By now, she was nearly forty minutes outside of town. There was quite literally nothing around her. Even the fact that the road was paved and plowed was surprising. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d passed a driveway. Or another road.

  “Almost there,” Sherry’s voice came back a moment later. “These folks out there, they really like their privacy. Be respectful of that.”

  “No kidding.” Then into the mic, “Roger that, Dispatch. Thanks. I see it now.”

  Her car came around a bend, and up ahead she could see the source of the smoke.

  “What’s it look like, Detective?”

  “A…shit, I don’t know.”

  On her left, a giant wall ran for ages, tall, thick, and built from very light tan stone. Every so often, a crenellation jutted up from it, interrupting the smooth flow of the top of the wall. Way up ahead in the distance, she could see what appeared to be the source.

  “Fire of some sort,” she said. “I’m arriving on scene, checking it out.”

  She slowed her unmarked car to a halt, pulling as far over to the side of the road as she dared. There was enough snow to hide the edge of the embankment, and the last thing Rachel wanted was to get stuck way out here. She’d never live that down.

  “What the hell happened here?” she asked the empty space, looking around.