Bite Me (London Undead) by PJ Schnyder Page A

we’re missing.”
    Magic.
    Rage simmered, but Seth couldn’t ignore it any longer, couldn’t let his hate blind him to the potential threat.
    “And why?” Danny was right there with him in worrying.
    “It’s not likely to be the were-cats, but keep alert next time you go see them.” Territorial aggression or no, they’d all been upfront with each other thus far. No. If there was a bid for power, it was some of the other supernaturals. Vampires, for example, loved cities as hunting grounds, and the chaos of the epidemic gave them freedom to prey on humans amidst the confusion. And there were fae who fed on those emotions. “If one of the other groups fishes for information, I want to be sure they know we’re aware of an issue, but I want all cards on the table. We all share what we know and I want to be there if there’s anything to be said.”
    A nod from Danny was all he needed. The medic would be careful.
    “Let’s see what this next patrol turns up.” He walked past Danny, dropping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And keep an ear to the ground for any other occurrences like this one.”
    “I’ll check in with our contacts. Our patrol stumbled on this by coincidence. Could be one of the others saw something similar.”
    Seth curled his lip. “I hope not. If a pattern does come up, let me know.”
    “This smells like magic, Seth. There’s no natural causes, not from the virus. If one of the other groups confirms it, we’re going to have to be prepared to deal with it.”
    Danny wouldn’t flush the game out in front of the junior pack members. He knew what it did to Seth.
    Anger churned in his belly, a familiar burn. He’d lived in a state of almost constant temper since he’d lost Sarah—dead because the witch couldn’t resist the call of power. She’d brought the consequences to their doorstep, their home, when he hadn’t been there to protect her.
    Damn magic users and their hunger, their need for more and more power. Nothing but evil.
    “Sarah didn’t share the spell with others.” Seth choked on the name of his deceased lover.
    “No. What she did was find a way to control zombies. If she could, so could others. She was good, but she wasn’t singular.” Head down, shoulders hunched, Danny was obviously prepared in case Seth lashed out. The medic had big balls to put the truth out there for discussion.
    He was indispensable to the pack, and to Seth, because of it.
    “The price won’t change for a different magic user. Spells, power, always require a price.” Seth wanted to spit in disgust, get the bitter taste out of his mouth.
    Sure, Sarah had figured out how to control zombies, but she hadn’t considered the cost. When her endurance ran out, her spell had back-lashed. The “controlled” zombies had been drawn to her and attacked her where she rested—in his home. He’d lost everything he’d held dear in one night, unable to get there in time. All because his lover couldn’t resist the temptation to solve things with magic and had gone back on her promise not to.
    She’d broken her word to him and he hadn’t been able to save her.
    “Magic can be harnessed for good things.” Danny meant well, but Seth didn’t want to hear it.
    “Yeah. The idjits who try to use it go mad with the power, or else they’re too daft to control it properly to begin with.” Seth struggled to untangle the roiling emotions in his belly. He needed to get out, run, find some clean violence. “The magic might be a cure for the zombie virus, but only sometimes and only in the hands of a user in his right mind. It’s never a consistent thing. And at what price? All power requires a price, Danny. You’ve seen it. The magic that makes us what we are takes its price from us every day. The magic this would take, it’d cause chaos.”
    Sarah had said the same thing as Danny. She’d wanted to help clear the city of the zombies, use the zombies under her power to contain the epidemic without