I take a scared step forwards. My mind is heavily settled in Mason's brain; it is an adamantium labyrinth: I can read the impulses of his thoughts, but I can't make a dent in them. At least, not yet.
I can't control Mason to release Seamus. But I can do this: I fling hastily gathered memories at Mason, hoping they will be an explanation just good enough. 'Mason, they are not my lovers!' I call, hoping my voice pierces the fog of rage beclouding his mind. Every kind of thought is racing there, across his mind, but his rage is primarily fixated on the thought that Sebastian and Seamus are my lovers.
He glances back, growls, returns back to Seamus. He tightens his grip. 'Then they tried to hurt you.'
This is true: Mason concluded that from the memories I dumped into his mind. Doesn't mean I want him avenging me. 'Mason!' I call, following up with squeaky, squeamish laughter. 'You know these guys can't hurt me, right?'
As he glances back at me, I show him the memory of Sebastian breaking his hands punching me. Mason lets Seamus fall hard on his butt. 'Fine,' he mutters, eyes still burning, but reigning in his rage.
When he steps back; 'Thank you,' I say.
Mason grunts indifferently. 'Okay. Now, wipe their minds,' he says offhandedly.
'Sorry, what?'
Mason stares at me pointedly, a glimmer of frustration blooming. 'Wipe their memories. Give them new ones. Let them think they got into a fight and wounded each other!' He snaps.
'I don't have half an idea how to do that!' I respond.
'You must be kidding me,' Mason says blandly, blinking like he is suffering a conversation with a blockhead, a particularly dense block at that.
'Don't give me that look,' I protest.
'Which look? Is it the one where I'm thinking you are probably the black sheep of the White family?'
'Oh, that's glorious,' I snap. 'If anyone knows anything about being a black sheep, it's you!'
Mason shrugs. 'Fairs. I just hope you get the hang of wiping these humans' minds before I have to wipe them for you the only way I know.'
I swallow hastily. Mason is not bluffing. He is Mason With-no-last-name, though you could call him Lycaone. Especially for these reasons, he is not an angel.
But I can see that he would spare Seamus and Sebastian if he could, so what was that initial, shrouding, bloodthirsty rage about? Some lycan or Lycaone thing?
I descend into Sebastian and Seamus' minds with the weight of a Titan, so that I knock them out into oblivion faster than roofies or any sedative. I tinker with their minds, trying to find the erase or edit button without breaking anything. Unlike Mason's adamantium mind, theirs is as gossamer as glass.
'Why did you even come back?' I ask Mason a little distractedly. A part of me seems to want to keep the half-lycan occupied. He is, of course, the most dangerous thing for miles around.
'Mirabella is in Moonhaven,' Mason just states.
My brain goes into shock. 'Moonhaven? T-t-this is Moonhaven,' I stutter. 'Mirabella is here?'
'Yes. That's why I returned. You aren't safe, nor are your friends or family. She has a nasty reputation for being a harbinger of seemingly coincidental accidents; they trail her like vultures. Unlike you, she can wipe memories and plant new ones just fine.'
I remember the sick feeling I still feel. 'There,' I say, rooting out the memories I want from Seamus and Sebastian. This is enough trial and error. If the opportunity presents itself again, which I hope it won't, maybe we'll try planting false memories then.
'Accidents, you said?'
Mason frowns. 'Know what? Find everyone you care about now!' He orders.
I jump in startle, and unleash my telepathic bubble, seeking any strong mental connection to me. I am not fully aware of it, but I'm passing impressions across to Mason through the mate bond. He can sense what I can.
Odd. Alicia is nearing the Wyrtle Cross, which is basically a bridge leading South out of town to the closest city. Why is Alicia leaving town? I gave her with the rest of the pack mental orders to rid my peace of mind of Sebastian and Seamus' pictures. Why is she—
Mom is on her way back to town from her workplace in the city. She works with a law firm as one of their best lawyers, newly promoted too. She must have headed there after Toby's appointment with the town dentist, probably to pick up something she left as is often the case.
Mom is coming on the Wyrtle Cross on the other side.
This is while Alicia is getting on the bridge on the town's side at breakneck speed, gunning her car for the vehicle—mom's—that just appeared on the other end of the bridge.
'No!' I scream.
***
My heart sprints faster than my legs can, THUMP! THUMP! thumping in what is like a never-ending beat. Dread seems an arrow in my chest, whilst bile bubbles from the stewpot of my belly.
But faster than my heart, Mason pushes through the hanging branches and leaves like a force of nature. He even leaves a roaring wind in his wake.
Though my feet can't keep up with his strides, my eyesight can.
Mason hurtles through the forest, circles for a minute around some vacation homes in the woods on all fours, and breaks the tree barrier.
He slams BAM! into Alicia's car just before it hits mom's, sending himself and the entire vehicle into a superfast tumble into the Wyrtle river.
Mom's car screeches as she crushes the brake pedal underfoot. She barely keeps from slamming into the pavement herself, stunned into stillness and confused, as, belatedly, Toby breaks into a wail that is only panicked and not hurt.
I hop onto some branches bordering the bridge, and launch myself over to the other side. I crash into the concrete water feet first, diving quickly below the surface. It isn't until like three minutes later that mom arrives at the edge of the bridge to see the fate of the driver who almost hit her.
'Alicia? Alicia? Alicia, is that you?' She calls out in uncertainty. But she can't see anything in the river, except that it is boiling something fiercer than the Three Witches' cauldron.
***
Mason and Mirabella are having at each other below the river surface. Visibility is murky, so I switch to infrared; which makes the lycan and half-lycan stand out as red wrestling wraiths in a backdrop of blue-black.
Alicia! My mind alarms. I stare downwards to where a fading blob of red that is Alicia's wrecked car cools in the river water.
I steer powerfully towards the car, every slice of my arms adding more violent ripples to what Mason and Mirabella are already making.
Alicia looks unconscious behind the steering wheel. So close now, I can feel the vapour clinging to her mind. Bubbles rise from her lips as murky water floods her car. She is very much alive; I can only attribute her unconsciousness to Mirabella's tinkering.
My claws spring out, and tear out the fractured windshield. I am reaching out to Alicia when her eyes snap open. She yanks my hand inside the crammed car and grabs my throat, squeezing.
Alicia's only advantage are her razor claws, the closest things to true lycan claws that I know. These wicked things will pass through anything as though ripping through air.
But I have the advantages. Not to talk of being alpha; her alpha.
The warm river water turns icy cold closest to us. I pin Alicia's cheek to the headrest with my Elderwood strength and unlock her fingers from around my throat. I start to yank Mirabella's web of hypnosis from Alicia's mind. Hardly have I pulled out a few of the clouds than a vise-like grip clamps down on my floating hair.
I am dragged very doll-like out of the car by none other than Mason himself. What in—?
Of course. It figures. Mirabella's forte seems to be bending people to her will. For ordinary humans, she seems to be able to do it effortlessly. An example is the school incident where she turned everyone against me.
Her hold is stronger on Alicia now than then. She must need some time touching people to make them strongly her pawns if they are werewolves.
Apparently, she can make lycans, or at least half-lycan, her pawns too. The evidence is here, glaring at me with red eyes lit from within. The water warms as my frigid power clashes with Mason's burning, lycan one.
I hiss, thrashing; bubbles rising around us. Though I try to connect with Mason: give him my best wounded puppy look, reach out a hand slowly in the water to cradle his cheek, war with Mirabella in his mind to set him free of her hold, he only stares with eyes replete with hunger for carnage. Mason is too far gone than I can reach.
Mirabella hangs serenely in the water. Sadistic satisfaction is evident in her features. Her best idea of an ironic twist is that Mason, being my mate, kills me with his own hands. Something about that nags at me. Mason is my mate no matter that our bond is less natural than what is the norm.
Mason is my mate. Mason is my mate. Mason is my—
Of course. I can feel the false-mate bond between Mason and I like a twisting tree trunk connecting us to each other, transcending all of space and time so that we are always adjoined no matter the barrier or obstacle. I yank on the mate bond with my telepathic claws. Then I pour all of my love for Mason into the bond. And using it as an access, I pit myself afresh against Mirabella's mind control.
The mate bond responds to my telepathy. Mason squints at me as if staring at me through a fog. He comes to himself a second afterward, except that this time, his eyes reignite. With fury against Mirabella.
'Blmbdm!' Mason commands. Though his words are not audible; fat bubbles of air rise and freeze in place in the murky water; the steely Lycaone command holds the world in place. Mirabella cannot move nor can I.