Unbound (Bound To You sequel)

THIRTEEN - *James*

A/N: Kind of dark but yeah. This chapter should probably come before Twelve... but anyways. I've got Megan's POV chapter almost done, should be up tomorrow! 

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Owen's death shocked them all.

It was five minutes past the end of the real fight. Just about when they had begun to think about something other than helping each other off the floor.

Tommy was still unconscious, with Lucy gone, James wondered if that was maybe not a blessing. Tio was bleeding from a deep slash across his chest. Markus too had blood coming from different wounds. James himself was probably the most undamaged of them all.

He did his very best to absorb the pain he felt, the pack felt, as Owen slipped away. He tried to take as much of it for them as he could.

He'd known pain before. Death. He could handle it.

"Where?" Markus panted.

Because Owen wasn't there with them in Megan's WiFi room.

And the fight had been over.

They'd been okay.

Lucy had been stolen away but the rest of them had been safe. The witches had gone.

Only, had they?

James felt the prickling horrible sensation of the magical blood magic tattoos across his body. They had been whispering since he'd been woken up by the witch wearing Megan's face. But adrenaline and anger had quieted them.

Now they teased at him and he could no silence them.

He left, satisfied that the Doc would take care of Tommy and Tio.

He wanted more than anything to kill something. A witch. The clawing images of Marisol, magic dancing in her eyes, floated through his mind. He wanted to kill her again too.

Death to our enemies, the something whispered, through the pack. Megan? Robin? He, himself? He wasn't sure who the thought had belonged to.

Maybe all three of them at once.

He felt steadied by it. He imagined Megan; her smile, her grave yet sparkling eyes.

He needed her. And she needed him. He felt that. And wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her.

Soon.

They found Owen two floors down.

His death had been clean - for a witch kill - James noted. His wrist bore what looked like bands of blisters from whatever magic had been used to hold him. Symbols similar to once he remembered from those days with Marisol had been carved into his bare chest. A cut had been made and flesh flayed away from his side, the ribs underneath exposed. 

That had all been done before his throat had been cut, deeply, a wide red gash. The spray pattern had the blood all over the room, which reeked of magic.

The smell, the feel of it, made James sick.

Tobias actually threw up.

James focused on everything but the magic and the blood. He found the faint scent of incense. The witch herself. Too busy, too hurried, to cover her trail.

He left to follow it.

He could do nothing for Owen.

He'd failed to protect him. Now all he could do was avenge him.

Markus and Tobias followed him down.

Out of the manor, through the woods. They crossed a field, a stream and they were no longer their lands but the neighbors.

There they found the car.

And three different scents. And tracks from another car.

"Once Tommy is awake, he can track it," James said, his voice firmer than he'd believed it would be. Owen's bloody body danced before his eyes each time he had to blink. "Maybe that will let us find Lucy." Or the witches. So we can destroy them.

"Maybe," Tobias agreed with about as much as hope as James himself felt. He feared Lucy was lost to them. He hoped not, for she was a sweet little thing, but was realistic enough to know there was little hope. He wondered how he'd tell Megan.

"Why haven't we heard from Megan or Robin?" he asked, suddenly realizing. "They would have felt his death."

Markus had his phone out and dialing in two seconds.

They all waited.

They all heard the phone ring and ring but no one on the other end picked up.

Owen was dead. Robin and Megan would both have felt his passing even as far from the pack as they were. James had even thought he'd felt their determination for vengeance. Yet, no answer. James himself wasn't good with phones but both Megan and Robin were.

"I'm going to Montreal," he said, a hundred terrible scenarios running through his mind.

"I'm coming with you," Markus said.

"No," James said but Markus wasn't hearing him.

"Megan-"

"Think," he almost snarled. "There were two cars. Three witches. One left with Lucy. One in the second car. There was a third one. I snapped her neck but she survived it somehow. Her car is the remaining one."

Markus' eyes changed color and he sniffed. "She's still here?"

"I think so," James said, admitting it to himself for the first time since the thought had crossed his mind.

"She's dead," Tobias hissed, a statement sure to be true before the sun rose.

"Yes." He agreed. "And as much as I would like to stay here and find her, do to her what she did to Owen, I can't." James made clear Markus knew he was talking to him. "So you will do it for me."

"With pleasure," Markus said, his dark eyes gleaming with eagerness. "Alpha."

James' wolf approved of the answer but the man wondered if feeding the darkness in Markus was the right thing. But tonight marked the start of a war. And in war, you didn't often have the luxury of doing the right thing.