The Moonlight Breed 8: Leap in the Dark by Gabrielle Evans (chrysanthemum read aloud .txt) 📕

Xander took several deep breaths to calm his racing pulse and vibrated through his transition back to his human skin. “Everyone shift back!” he ordered immediately.

“Yes, please,” one of the werewolf Enforcers pleaded from where he was huddled on the ground and gripping his temples.

It took a few minutes to soothe some of the younger shifters, but eventually, everyone was standing on two legs again. “There are a lot of cock and balls on display here.” There was a tightness to Jacobi’s voice as he leaned heavily on Spiro, but the pain he had to be experiencing didn’t appear to be altering his sense of humor.

“Gather the goblins and take them to the holding cells,” Xander continued. “If there are any dead, take them to the infirmary. We’ll contact their clan to come and collect them.”

Yes, they were the enemy and had attacked them without real provocation, but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to let them simply rot at the bottom of an unmarked grave. No matter what they’d done, they were still someone’s family, someone’s son, father, or brother.

“You’re a good man, Xander.”

He dipped his head toward Spiro in acknowledgement, but he wasn’t looking for praise. Too much blood had been spilled needlessly, and while he was thankful for their victory, it was still a day of sadness.

Approaching a goblin that seemed somewhat coherent, he grabbed the man by the chin and jerked his head up. “How many?”

The guy’s lips moved, but he made no sound. His eyes held a faraway, vacant look, and he was trembling from head to toe. Grunting in frustration, Xander released him and spun around, looking for someone who could give him answers.

A goblin slumped against the front wheel of one of the trucks with his head lolling on his shoulders. Stomping over to him, Xander crouched down to be at eye level and pinned him with a narrow gaze. “How many?”

“There were thirty-seven of us,” the man answered in a garbled mumble. “My head feels funny.”

He was lucky that was all that had happened to him. Xander didn’t comment further, though. Instead, he rose to his feet and scanned the area, counting under his breath as he turned in a half circle. “Thirty-four, thirty-five…”

A lead weight settled in his gut, and bile rose in his esophagus. He quickly counted again, but still came up two short. “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” several people called to him as he sprinted past on his way back to the dorms, but he couldn’t answer them through the panic that constricted his throat.

* * * *

“This is bullshit,” Braxton yelled as he made his umpteenth attempt to get past Demitrius who was more or less holding him hostage on the couch.

“Sit down,” Demitrius growled back, catching him around the elbow and shoving him back to the cushions.

“If Xander gets hurt…” He trailed off, leaving his threat open-ended.

“Xander is a lot less likely to get hurt if you keep your ass right here.” A frustrated huff fell from his lips, and Demitrius ran a hand through his long hair. “I know you want to go charging in there like some white knight, but stop and think. All you’re going to do is be a distraction. You can’t defend yourself against things that go bump in the night, and Xander will get himself killed trying to protect you.”

“He’s right,” Keeton said from his side. It was the first time he’d spoken since the pack had left, and his face was ghostly pale. “Remember what happened last time we thought we could help?”

Braxton remembered all too well, and that had only been one demon they were fighting. A single moment of distraction was all it had taken for her to nearly rip Xander to shreds, though. “I can’t just sit here.” Intellectually, he understood what they were trying to tell him, but logic had taken an extended vacation from his reasoning skills.

Though he hadn’t admitted it out loud, he knew exactly who had attacked the gates. The goblins had come for him, and maybe to a lesser extent, Keeton. It was his fault they were there, and the blame would rest on his shoulders if people he loved were hurt or worse. Sitting safely at home while his mate fought for him felt cowardly and selfish.

“I’m sorry, Braxton.” Demitrius eased down into the armchair across from him and rested his elbows on his knees. “I get how you’re feeling, but trust me on this. Nothing good will come from you leaving this house.”

“I know,” he conceded. “I just feel like I should be doing more. Xander wouldn’t be out there at all if not for—”

“Quiet,” Demitrius said, interrupting him as he held up a hand for silence and turned his head toward the door. “Did you hear that?” Pushing up from his seat, Demitrius waved them back as he crouched down and sidestepped toward the window.

Standing to the side of the frame, he parted the blinds only an inch and dipped his head to peer out onto the front porch. “Shit!” He dropped to the floor and rolled across the carpet just as the glass shattered inward, and two of the vilest-looking creatures Braxton had ever seen burst through the broken window and into the living room.

The monsters landed on their feet and whipped their heads toward him as they sniffed at the air. Braxton sat rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear while he watched the goblins prowl toward him.

He’d seen a lot of strange things since moving to Haven, but never in his life had he crossed paths with something so horribly grotesque. The things that stalked him appeared almost deformed, their limbs and heads disproportionate to the rest of their bodies. The sleek baldness of their domes gleamed in the sunlight that spilled through the window, and their small skulls looked to be comprised primarily of eyes and teeth, as those were the most prominent features.

“Guys, run!”

Scrambling to his feet, Demitrius launched himself at the intruders, only to be swatted