by M H Soars
A moment later, my door comes crashing down and Tristan appears in the frame, the personification of a wrathful god.
“There. Door down. Now you can’t hide here unbothered anymore.”
“Fucker.” I take another large sip of my drink.
Tristan walks in, scrunching his nose. “Phew. It reeks in here. What the hell, Dante?”
“Bite me, Tristan.”
“What’s the matter with you? Mom has been worried sick. You haven’t gone out or shifted the entire time you’ve been here. It’s not healthy and you know it.”
I glower at my brother, which he matches in intensity. Tristan takes the role of the older brother seriously, even if he’s only older than me by a few minutes.
“Shit, you don’t need to tell me. But I can’t leave.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” He raises an eyebrow.
I set the bottle of whiskey down on the floor and rest my elbows on my knees. “I can’t. I’ve been trying to finish the portrait of that woman.” Without looking up, I point at the canvas. “And until I do, I won’t be able to do anything else.”
“So, it’s a vision thing?”
I lift my chin. “No, it’s not a vision. It’s… ah, shit. I can’t explain. It’s almost like a part of me is missing and it’ll only be complete when I finish the painting.”
Tristan turns toward the canvas. His eyebrows furrow and his jaw clenches hard. He doesn’t speak for several beats as he stares at the unfinished painting. Then, out of the blue, he says, “I know her.”
My spine goes rigid in an instant. “What do you mean?”
He shakes his head and glances at me. “I don’t know. Just now, I got the strange sensation that I know the woman you’re trying to capture. Only I have no clue where the notion is coming from. You didn’t even finish her face.”
I jump off the couch to stand next to him. “That’s the problem. I can’t get the details of her face right. It’s almost as if there’s a block in my head.”
“And were you hoping hard liquor would help?”
I hear the criticism loud and clear.
“Don’t fucking judge me, okay?”
“Well, drunk or not, you’re coming with me.”
“Have you not been listening to anything I said? I can’t.”
Tristan turns to me. “Are you saying you’re physically unable to step foot outside?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“That’s not a satisfactory answer. Sorry, brother.”
“Sorry about what?”
“This.”
Tristan’s fist comes at me fast, too fast for me avoid. One hit and it’s lights out for me.
Tristan
“Was brute force necessary?” Mom asks as she peels Dante’s eyelids open to check his pupils.
“Yes. He kept saying he couldn’t leave. You know how Dante is with his idiosyncrasies.”
“So you just punched him in the face?” She sets the flashlight aside and grabs a cloth to clean the blood from his nose, which is pointless to me.
“Just shove him under the shower. He’s filthy.” I cross my arms.
“I don’t understand what’s gotten into him. His gift never took him away from the real world for so long.” She sets the cleaning rag aside and pushes his long bangs back.
“He claims it wasn’t a vision.”
She turns to me with eyebrows furrowed. “If not a vision, then what?”
“I don’t know. But when you’re done with him, you should go see the painting he’s working on.”
“Why?”
I look away, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. I’m not prone to dwell on intuition and the other bullshit Mom and Dante are fond of. “It’s a strange piece, and it moved me in a bizarre way.”
“How so?” Mom probes.
I rub my face, trying to wash away the eerie déjà vu sensation that painting caused. “I don’t know.” Without looking in her direction again, I head for the door of the examination room. “I should go to bed. I have an early meeting tomorrow with Mayor Montgomery.”
“Tristan, how many times do I have to tell you to not keep things bottled up?”
I glance over my shoulder. “I’m fine, Mom. Stop being so… motherly.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I want to see how you’ll fare when you have your own offspring to worry about.”
A shiver runs down my spine. Since Dad passed away and my brothers and I assumed the roles of co-alphas, the pressure to mate and have kids has increased tenfold. More so to me since I’m the oldest—and let’s be honest, the most responsible. But the idea of having kids always seemed like a distant future. Tonight, the possibility feels real, concrete. It must be Dante’s strange unfinished painting getting to me.
Suddenly, a suspicion sprouts in my head. “Hey, Mom. Can you check if Dante has been hexed somehow?”
“Hexed?” Mom raises an eyebrow. “Where is that coming from?”
“If his compulsion to paint doesn’t come from a vision, what other explanation could there be besides a hex?”
Mom turns to Dante once more and stares at him, deep in thought. Only when the shrill ringtone of her phone cuts the silence does she jolt back to the here and now. She walks to the table and retrieves the device.
“Dr. Mervina speaking.” She listens to the caller with a solemn expression, then replies, “Are you sure?” Another pause before she continues. “Okay, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“What happened?” I ask as soon as she ends the call.
“That was Carol. The Midnight Coven showed up at her doorstep with grave news.”
“What news?”
“They believe a curse or spell has been cast over all of Crimson Hollow. Carol didn’t get into details over the phone, but she needs me there as soon as possible.”
A sliver of apprehension pierces my chest. I can’t help but wonder if Dante’s peculiar behavior is a result of such a spell.
“What about Dante?”
“You put him in this state, so you’ll deal with him when he wakes up. Just don’t let him return to his studio before I get back.”
“Maybe whatever spell was cast over Crimson Hollow is what’s wrong with him.”
“We’ll see.”
Mom is out the door without a glance back. Her attitude rubs me the wrong way. She didn’t seem that worried about Carol’s call or the implications.
Damn it. I don’t like this at all.
I look at my watch. It’s already past one in the morning. The chances I’ll hit the pillow any time soon are slim. But even if I could, I doubt I’d be able to fall asleep. I have a bad feeling, which in itself is enough to put me in a sour mood. Hunches and premonitions are Dante’s department, not mine.
Putting my hands on my hips, I glower at him. The idiot is completely out to the world and has now started to snore. Ah, fuck it. I’m waking him up now.
I shake his shoulder. “Dante. Wake up.”
He mumbles something and bats my hand away. I head for the sink in the room and fill a basin with ice-cold water.
“You asked for it,” I say just before I dump it all over his head.
With a loud gasp, he sits up at once. “What? Where am I?”
“You’re in the infirmary, Picasso.”
Dante wipes his face and turns to me. “Son of a bitch. You sucker punched me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sue me. I had to get you out of that studio.”
He jumps off the bed. “I have to get back. I need to finish the painting.”
I grab his arm. “You’re not going anywhere, brother.”
He peels his lips back, revealing his sharp fangs. “Let me go,” he growls.
“Not a chance.”
“You don’t understand. I have to finish that painting.”
“You’ve been trying for three weeks! I’m not going to let you waste away like that.”
“What am I supposed to do? I need to know who that woman in the painting
is, Tristan. It’s a matter of life or death.”
His eyes are round and frantic, but I believe his words completely.
“Mom just received an urgent call from Carol Kane. It seems there’s something witchy going on in town, and I bet your need to finish that painting is linked to the witches’ emergency.”
I was hoping my news would convince Dante to forget about the stupid painting, but it does the complete opposite. He yanks his arm free and bolts out of the room.
“Dante! Come back here!”
I run after him, but he’s faster than me. When I step outside the building, Dante is already in midshift. Great. I have to shift as well if I hope to catch up with him.
Shakes run through my body as my muscles begin to expand and change shape. But before I can let my wolf free, bright headlights illuminate the path ahead. A car is coming down the road fast. Everything happens in a split second. Dante completely ignores the speeding vehicle and crosses in front of it.
“Dante!” I scream too late.
Tires screech as the driver attempts to stop and avoid the collision. A loud thump and Dante’s whelp follow. I stop the shift, but my wolf cries, begging to be set free. I can’t let him though. I have to maintain my human form if I have any hope of not killing whoever is driving the car that ran over my brother.
Chapter 8
Samuel
My spine goes rigid when I hear the sound of another wolf growling. I drop my arm from the beautiful woman’s shoulders and step forward, positioning myself in front of her. But my protective demeanor changes when my eyes collide with the petite woman between Kenya and Zeke. She’s the one with lips peeled back and canines on display, the wolf who’s about to pounce.
I didn’t know she was a shifter. How is that possible?
She moves forward, but Kenya holds her arm. “Red, no.”
The world goes off-kilter. Out of nowhere, something strange happens to me, almost as if there’s an invisible cord pulling me toward her. First there was the tug when I saw her picture, and now this.
I lean forward, ready to breach the distance between us. But the feeling subsides when my companion, the girl I picked up at Five-Headed Dragon, hooks her arm around mine.
“Come on, Sam. It’s cold, and I can’t wait to check your place out.”
I look into her eyes, and my thoughts become all fuzzy. The world around us is muted. I can only see the woman staring back at me clearly.
“Step away from him, bitch, or you’ll lose a limb,” a female voice warns. It takes me a second to recognize it, but then it hits me. It’s Red.
The fog in my brain is lifted and I’m able to look away from my date. Red steps forward, despite Kenya’s hold on her arm, and then I see her round belly. My eyes stay glued to her abdomen almost as if I’m in a trance. Dizziness hits me all of a sudden. I press the heel of my hand against my forehead and close my eyes for a second.
“Shit. What’s wrong with Sam?” Kenya asks.
“It’s Alecto,” a masculine voice answers.
I open my eyes, trying to see through my now blurry vision. A tall man steps in front of Red and the others, wearing golden armor. I blink several times to make sure I’m not seeing things.
“Fuck a duck,” Zeke mutters.
“You again, Pegasus? You’re such a pest. I think it’s time you leave this town for good.”
A flaming dagger appears in my companion’s hand. Instinctively, I leap away from her. “What the hell!”
“Don’t worry, pet. It’ll only be a moment.”
An invisible blanket wraps around my body, rendering me paralyzed. I should get the hell away from this crazy creature, but it’s like my body has a mind of its own. I’m unable to move, and my brain feels like it’s been scrambled.
The tall stranger begins to shimmer until he changes into a white horse with golden wings. My wolf churns inside my core, but my connection to him seems muffled somehow.
Alarm bells ring in my head. There’s never been a time when my link to the wolf was weak.
Alecto charges the magical horse with a battle cry, and I can’t look away. But a sharp pain in the back of my head knocks me over. I fall to my knees, ready to retaliate, when Zeke appears in front of me and touches my forehead.
That’s the last thing I see.
Red
Everything happens in a flash. While Pegasus and Alecto are busy fighting each other, Zeke knocks Samuel down with his imp powers and tosses him over his shoulder, and we escape.
We run back to Zeke’s bakery, but he rounds the corner. A few seconds later, I understand the reason. Without stopping, he opens the back door of his delivery van and tosses an unconscious Samuel on the floor.
“Careful with him,” I say before jumping inside.
“Maybe you should ride shotgun, Red,” Kenya suggests.
“No!” I snap, not knowing where the rage came from. “I’ll sit with him.”
“Come on, Kenya. Get in!” Zeke says from behind the wheel. “Pegasus will only be able to distract Alecto for so long. We have to get out of here.”
Kenya jumps inside and then closes the van’s back door, but with Sam sprawled on the floor, there’s little room for her to move forward. The situation doesn’t improve when Zeke peels out of the parking spot, the lurch sending Kenya flying to the side.
“Fuck!” she exclaims when she hits her hip against a storage cabinet.
“Sorry, cookie. You’d better come sit in front with me and buckle up.”
Clutching the cabinet, she inches forward. Before she crosses to the front seat, she glances at me. “You can’t stay on the floor with Sam, Red. It’s not safe.”
The van swerves sharply in that moment, almost sending Kenya down. Instead of listening to her words, I scooch closer to Samuel and prop his head on my lap. “I’m fine here. Go take a seat before you fly out the window.”
Grumbling, she slides through the small gap between the two seats at the front and drops down hard when Zeke’s manic driving skills force her to.
“Jeez, forget that fucking goddess. We won’t survive this trip,” she complains.
“Can Alecto find us regardless of where we go?” I ask.
“Zeke Mobile is protected. She won’t find us easily.”
“Only if she were blind. This van is like a neon parade float. Astronauts can see us from outer space,” Kenya retorts.
“That’s why I’m trying to get as far as I can from that psycho bitch,” Zeke grits out.
“Do we have a plan? Where are we going?” I ask.
“To the Wolfe compound. It’s closest to us, and hopefully your other mates are there.”
Samuel mumbles on my lap, fidgeting in his sleep. Impulsively, I run my fingers through his hair. An electric current goes up my arm, catching me by surprise. I feel another kick in my belly, almost as if my baby is reacting to the contact as well.
I stare unabashedly at him, something easy to do now since he’s out to the world. I’ve seen him before in town—at least, that’s the current memory I have in my mind. He’s so handsome, it’s almost impossible to believe I’m mated to him.
He becomes more agitated, and his face twists into a scowl. Taken over by another impulse, I lean forward and kiss his forehead. When I pull back, my face bursts into flames. Samuel is awake and staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. He doesn’t answer right away. Instead he keeps staring at me with his striking electric blue eyes. “What?”
He sits up and twists his body so he can keep looking into my eyes. “Who are you?”
“Is Sam awake?” Kenya asks from the front seat.
I should answer her, but I’m tongue-tied and nervous. I’m torn between moving away from this stranger or throwing myself into his arms. My heart is thundering inside of my chest, and my mouth is dry.
“You kidnapped me,” Samuel continues.
“Technically, we saved your ass,” Zeke pipes up.
Sam turns to the front of the va
n. “Where are you taking me?”
“To your mother. Oh shit, hold on. Sharp curve ahead.”
Zeke’s warning is moot. With the way we’re speeding, it only came half a second before he actually turns the bend and sends me flying forward. Sam catches me in his arms, but I still hit my belly too hard against his body. I let out a grunt.
“Are you okay?” he asks, easing me off him to peer worriedly into my eyes.
My heart skips a beat, only to take off in a mad race in the next second. An avalanche of emotions hits me all at once, and I don’t know what do with all the foreign and overwhelming feelings.
“Red?” he probes when I don’t answer him.
I snap out of my haze and glance down. “I’m okay. I just hit my belly a little too hard.”
“So you’re really pregnant,” he says in awe while staring at it.
“Apparently so, even if I don’t remember how I got like this.”
“Well, I can think of several ways,” he replies with humor before glancing at me from under his eyelashes.
Mamma mia. He’s smiling at me with full dimples on display. I’m glad I’m already on the floor, because my legs are jelly now.
“May I touch it?” he asks.
“Huh?” I reply, sounding stupid as fuck. Ugh. What’s wrong with me?
“Your belly. May I touch it?”
I nod, unable to form words. He places his hand right on my abdomen, and once again I sense a strange exchange of energy between us. He sucks in a breath and stares at me wide-eyed.
“I felt a kick.” He glances down again. “Another one. Holy smokes, how many babies do you have in there?”
“Three,” Kenya replies before I can.
“What?” I squeak. “You’re joking, right?”
She turns in her seat to stare at me. “No, honey, I’m not. You’re a triplex.”
Samuel pulls his hand away suddenly and looks at me with a peculiar glint in his eyes. “I’m one of triplets.”
I open my mouth to tell him I know when Kenya screams, “Watch out!”
Zeke presses on the brakes so suddenly that Samuel and I slide forward on the floor at terrible speed. I only have time for one thought: my babies.
