Playing With Fire

by Adrienne Woods et al.

  Angelica looked down at her hands. Patrick thought she blushed, and he had the notion that he had touched on a sensitive subject.

  “It was the only way.”

  “The only way to what, Angelica?”

  She did not reply, but turned around again and stared into the mirror. Tilting her head, she looked at her reflection.

  “This human form has grown on me,” she admitted. “It is my face on a body so soft and sensitive. You have taught me pleasures I never knew existed.”

  Patrick blinked at the unexpected change of subject.

  “I do not like to command you to follow me, Patrick. I wish for you to do so willingly. The balance of nature has been upset, and it cannot be corrected unless I intervene. Will you not listen to my reasoning?”

  Relieved, and yet unsettled, to find her in such an amicable mood, Patrick pulled up a stool and sat beside her.

  “I cannot deny my love for you, Angelica, but cannot condone the killing of all of mankind for the sins of others,” he said. “Why must they all die?”

  “Man is made of sin,” she said. “There will always be those with evil in their hearts. It does no good only to punish those who have already sinned. We need to stem the tide completely.”

  Patrick regarded her for a moment, and then asked, “What stopped you from killing Hector Buck last night?”

  Angelica’s eyes glazed over. They didn’t go dark, as they usually did, but instead took on a faraway aspect Patrick failed to interpret.

  “I punished him,” she finally said.

  “Yes, you punished him,” Patrick agreed, for Hector had told his story to them during the night, “but you did not kill him. What stopped you?”

  A deep frown creased Angelica’s forehead. Her eyes came back into focus, and she looked at him. “He got what he deserved. Now can we talk about something else?”

  There was the slightest hint of command in her voice, and Patrick felt it settling in his chest. It wasn’t strong, and he knew he could resist it, but he agreed.

  “Tell me, then, what I should call you, my love,” he said gently, trying to win her over again. “Does it please you if I were to call you Ariel?”

  “No, Patrick, Ariel is but a name the humans have given me. It is how you recognise me for who I am. It is not my name. Angelica is closer to my true name than any word in the human language, so it would please me if you could continue to use that name.”

  “Angelica,” he smiled, taking her hand, “will you tell me of your plans?”

  She remained silent, tilting her head, and regarding him through narrowed eyes. He forced himself to stay calm as she took her hand out of his.

  “And, what would you do once you knew my plans, Patrick? Would you try to stop me? Would you call your wolf council, as you did last night, and fight me?”

  She knew. Oh, God, she knew. What options did he have now?

  “Not fight you,” he spoke the truth, “never that. Please, Angelica, you need to understand my role in this. You say we are a different breed to the humans. What makes us so different?”

  “It is your honour and your strength of character that sets you apart from the humans. You hold life in higher regard than most other races do.”

  “It is true, indeed, as I am honour bound to protect my family and my people. This also includes the people that work for me. I am also honour bound to you, as my wife.”

  Again, she looked at him with a tilted head. It worried him when she did that, for it sent icy shivers down his spine.

  “What are you saying, Patrick?” she asked.

  “I cannot fight on either side, Angelica. I am bound to you and my father. I cannot change it.”

  “So, you will be their spy, and let them do the fighting for you, then?”

  Patrick’s heart thundered in his chest as Angelica’s eyes darkened. “No, my intention is not to hurt you. Look into my heart, if you will, for you shall find no malice there.”

  “Your intentions might be pure, but how do I know of the others? I will not let them ruin my design with their misplaced honour for these humans,” she thundered.

  Patrick growled, his heart torn in two along with his loyalties.

  “I will not fight you, Angelica,” he rasped, fighting the change, “but I will not stand beside you either. If you will hear no reason, then I will leave you now.”

  Setting the hairbrush he still held in his hand on the commode, he strode purposefully to the door. He expected Angelica to command him to come back at any moment, but the order never came.

  Patrick did not dare glance back at the manor as he rode down the gravelly path towards the main gates. The stallion threw his head, wildly rolling his eyes, sensing the wolf close to the surface of Patrick’s consciousness.

  As the miles fell away behind him, thus did the pull Angelica held over him. Soon, he could barely feel her anymore. Far from relief, it caused him more pain.

  “And,” Lawson continued his questioning, “she gave you no answer as to why she did not kill Hector Buck?”

  “No.”

  Patrick was down to one-word answers. He had passed the stage of hurt and worry, and was now consumed by anger. Patrick had not felt such rage since the war.

  “From what Patrick says,” Lawson continued, “it seems that she intends to kill only humans, but not the supernatural folk. Do you realise what that would mean to us?”

  The men stared at him.

  “Only the males of our lineage are werewolves. We have human families.”

  Growls sounded around the room. The fine hairs along Patrick’s neck stood erect.

  “We need to act now while she is in her human form. We cannot allow this to happen. Richard, ride now to gather the others. Meet us at the manor. The rest of you, we leave now.”

  “Patrick, you stay here,” Dorien said. “I know you cannot help in this fight, so you should stay out of it completely.”

  Silently Patrick stared back at the mayor, a low growl trembling in his throat.

  “Saddle your horses, men; I will join you in a moment,” Edward said, escorting those still present to the door.

  Dorien gave Patrick a last look, but let Edward guide him out.

  “Son,” Edward said once he closed the door on the last person, “you need to tell me if there is anything else you know. Anything at all that might endanger us when we capture her.”

  Patrick stared at him.

  “Speak to me, Goddammit,” Edward yelled.

  Baring his teeth, Patrick’s growl deepened. His fingers distorted, and he gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. Edward backed away a step.

  “Calm yourself,” Edward commanded.

  The order settled him, but it left a bitter taste in Patrick’s mouth.

  “You won’t capture her,” he forced out between his teeth.

  “Why is that?”

  “She is too strong.”

  “Not if we get to her before she can turn. Unless she is warned, she will not know we are coming.”

  Patrick growled again; his anger seething. He knew she needed to be stopped, but he could not let anything happen to her.

  “What will you do with her once you have captured her?”

  Edward considered him for a moment. “We will probably decide when the time comes. It would also be best that you do not know.”

  Patrick ground his teeth.

  “I am sorry, son, but this must be done. We are left with no other choice. I know how you feel about Angelica, but she is your wife no longer. She is a threat to our very existence, and only we can stop her.”

  Patrick stood, his body twitching, fighting the change.

  Edward took another step back. “Calm yourself!” he ordered again.

  Patrick’s nostril’s flared as the alpha command settled in his chest. He remained frozen mid-way between the chair and his father, growling.

  “I need to leave now. I am sorry, Patrick. I wish there could be another way. Stay here,” another command, “
until I come back.”

  Edward turned and strode out the door.

  Patrick bared his teeth, growling deeply. His fists clenched, then extended again, as the bones broke and extended. With a scream of pain, Patrick dropped to the carpet, unable to resist the change any longer.

  Chapter 19

  The door opened, and Lillian poked her head through, looking around the room. When her eyes fell upon Patrick, she clutched her hand to her chest and stared at him with wide eyes.

  The wolf whined and looked at the woman with sad eyes.

  Lillian frowned, her knuckles white on the edge of the door, and her bottom lip trembled. Patrick could smell her fear. His mother blinked once, fast, and pushed the door open. Quickly, she stepped to the side, pressing herself to the wall.

  Keeping his growl to a low rumble in his throat, the wolf padded silently over the plush carpet to the door. His mother could have closed it again and locked him in. Instead, she stood in the hall, back pressed to the wall, trembling. Her hands clenched into tight fists, and her eyes remained wide open.

  Patrick looked at her as he slunk through the door frame, and even though Lillian was terrified, she nodded at him.

  “Do what you must,” she quivered.

  The wolf whined, and then bounded to the open front door in three leaps. Baring his teeth and growling loudly, Patrick once more fought the alpha command as he stepped over the threshold.

  Out in the open, he shook his head. Fighting his father’s command had nearly cost him his sanity; he was surprised his father had not noticed the agony Patrick was going through when Edward spoke to him.

  The change had been inevitable with that much rage flowing through him, and he probably would have gone on to kill everything in sight had his mother not opened that door.

  “Never hurt your mother.”

  It was a law Patrick would never break - he needed no alpha for that.

  Lifting his nose into the air, he caught the men’s scent and knew how long ago they had left. If he hurried, he could get there before the horses.

  It felt strange to be out during the day. Knowing where they had set the traps around the farm, the wolf dashed across the fields, startling the workers.

  He went through the river, instead of a mile west to the bridge, through the forest, over another farmer’s land, and through another forest, until he reached the boat shed.

  From there, Patrick sped down the overgrown path to the manor without check. He could hear voices as he ran passed the area where the servants lived, but he cared little if he was seen.

  As the wolf ran onto the manicured grounds of the manor, he heard the hoofbeats of the riders come up the gravelly road. Growling, with his head hanging low, and his thick mane standing erect, Patrick took position at the bottom of the steps to the manor. He was vaguely aware of whispered voices in the orchard, and people hiding behind trees. Jasper hid behind a bush to his left, and another servant had dropped a tray on the veranda before running inside.

  The horses cantered up the drive but became nervous when they smelled the wolf. Patrick saw the shocked look on Dorien and Lawson’s faces, but Edward frowned.

  Patrick heard them whisper. “He is huge,” and “Is that your son?”

  Edward only nodded.

  “Let us pass,” Edward shouted.

  Patrick growled.

  “Edward?” Dorien looked at Edward inquiringly. “Tell him to move.”

  “Patrick,” Edward tried again, “I order you to let us pass.”

  The werewolf growled again.

  “Oh, no,” Edward breathed.

  If Patrick were not so enraged, he would have felt pity for his father. Instead, he took a step forward, growling louder. The horses shied, throwing their heads in fear.

  “It is a false hope that you think you can protect her,” Lawson yelled. “Let us do our job, Patrick.”

  The bush beside him moved, and a nervous Jasper emerged, holding a spade. Glancing sideways at the wolf, he, too, stood in front of the steps.

  “Pardon, my lords,” the servant quivered, “it seems Lord Blakesley is not able to speak for himself at this present moment. If you have come here to harm anyone, I suggest you leave again.”

  Patrick whined softly, and Jasper nodded, clutching his spade.

  “We will be back, Patrick. The others are on their way; you know they are.”

  The three turned their horses and galloped down the drive. The wolf growled after them, making Jasper jump. Still growling, Patrick padded up the steps to the manor. To his surprise, Jasper followed him. He had to give it to the man; he was brave.

  Several more dishes shattered, and screams filled the halls as the wolf padded through the house, looking for Angelica.

  “Lady Blakesley be in the orchard, my Lord,” Jasper told him after speaking to one of the maids.

  The wolf nodded once and led the way back outside. A crowd had gathered around the bottom of the steps, and they were now making way for Angelica to walk through.

  She saw him come through the door and ran up the stairs to throw her arms around his shaggy neck. Patrick had never fully understood how big he was until that moment. Angelica neither knelt, nor bent, to hug him, but instead reached up to put her arms around him. Her head was in line with his shoulders.

  Tilting his head, and resting it against her back, he pressed her to him. A collective sigh rose up from the servants, and even Jasper leaned his spade against the railing of the veranda.

  “You came back for me,” she whispered in his ear.

  Patrick took a step back and looked into her eyes. He had never seen such a bright blue as today, and he wished he could hold her right now. He could not change, though. The men were coming, and it was against werewolf law to kill another wolf. Besides, he was stronger this way.

  “They are coming, aren’t they?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Then, let us get out of here. Jasper, tell them we have left.” Angelica tugged on Patrick’s shaggy mane. “Come down; you’re too tall,” she said.

  Confused, Patrick crouched low, only for Angelica to grab his scruff with both her hands, asking Jasper to help her up. The next moment, Angelica sat astride his back, her voluminous skirts ballooning on either side.

  “Hold them off as long as you can,” Angelica said, “to give us time to get away. We will see you soon, I promise.”

  The servants waved as Patrick ran down the steps with Angelica clinging to his back. He tried to be gentle, but he needn’t have worried. He could feel her tight grip, and her racing heart, but also her elation.

  “We will be safe here,” Angelica assured him.

  “As wolves, they will be able to follow the scent as surely as if we had marked the trail,” Patrick countered.

  She laughed. “It has been months that I have come here in secret to make love with you, Patrick. Did you think we remained undiscovered all this time without a little heavenly help?”

  “But you said you knew nothing of being an angel before …”

  “My conscious self didn’t,” she replied, “but I was an angel all along. I only needed reminding. You did that for me. Now, whatever I do going forward, I do with open eyes.”

  “Why did you not stay and fight today?” he asked her.

  “I have no gripe with your people,” she said.

  “But,” Patrick frowned, thinking of earlier that morning, “did you not tell me only this morning that you would not let them ruin your design?”

  She truly had a beautiful laugh, and her face lit up now as she looked at him. “It was but a test, Patrick. The wolf council cannot stand in the way of my plans once I have my full powers. No one can. I merely meant to test the boundaries of your loyalties and the measure of your strength. You have exceeded my expectations.”

  “I broke the alpha bond between my father and me,” he growled.

  “You are your own alpha now,” she breathed, sending shivers down his spine, “which makes you a most des
irable wolf.”

  “Angelica …”

  “Yes?”

  He did not get to speak again as she covered his still naked body with kisses, pushing him back onto the blankets. The boatshed was warm in the midday sun, yet her kisses sent tiny shivers across his skin.

  Lower she went, her lengthy hair trailing across his chest. Her hands held his hips as her tongue circled his navel. Patrick could not suppress his moan as his erection brushed against her throat.

  Giggling softly, Angelica sat up but indicated with her hand for him to remain where he was. Without breaking eye contact, Angelica undressed. Slowly, she pulled the ribbon holding her outer corset, running her finger down the seam to loosen it. Then, she slipped off the over-skirt, tossing it into the far corner of the room. She did the same with the voluminous under-skirt, sending it tumbling down the stairs. Patrick could never understand why the women wore so many underclothes, but Angelica’s were always enticingly delicate. She now proceeded to undo the silky ribbons of the bodice, freeing her firm, pale breasts, before slipping off the silk knickers.

  Patrick’s eyes travelled down from her breasts, over her flat stomach, to the dark curls between her legs. His hands slid up her legs as she knelt between his, but she grabbed him by the wrists and pinned his arms to his side.

  Smiling mischievously, Angelica bent, her buttocks now taking up Patrick’s field of vision as she went down on him. He gasped when her hot lips touched his cock. She released one of his hands and used hers to hold his base. Slowly, she circled his tip with her tongue.

  This was new. Angelica had never done this before. Patrick quivered as she took the entire tip in her mouth and sucked. She moved her other hand, and cupped his balls, massaging them gently.

  Angelica stopped sucking, and instead kissed his head, then traced kisses all along his shaft right to the base. When she came back up, she looked at him, trailing her tongue along his cock.

  His heart skipped a beat when he noticed her blue eyes, knowing it was all Angelica who made love to him.

  She smiled and closed her eyes, taking his tip back into her mouth. This time, she moved her hand up and down his shaft while she sucked and played with her tongue. His cock throbbed under her caress, and he fought for control.