Strange Brew

by Angela Colsin

  Checking her watch again, she realized that dawn was coming, but she still hadn't managed to attract anything supernatural. With a sigh, she inwardly kicked herself. What the hell was I thinking? Instead of sitting out in the cold, she could be home, getting some much needed sleep. I'm calling this off.

  Grumbling over her wasted effort, she was about to stand when movement in the grove caught her attention. Immediately growing still, she looked in that direction only to have her enthusiasm take yet another kick to the proverbial nuts.

  Of all the creatures that could've shown up, it was a fully turned werewolf that wandered into the grove—and right into her trap. Of course, she'd never actually seen a werewolf before, but her intuition was going strong, and this creature was unfamiliar, making it easy to guess.

  From what she could see at a distance, this one was tall with a broad, muscular body, medium length tawny hair, and glowing orange eyes. The bridge of his nose was streamlined with a thick brow over those vibrant orbs, giving him an intimidatingly bestial look, and the claws on his hands were razor sharp.

  Aislinn stared in disbelief, having no idea what to think except Well, shit. Now what do I do? Werewolves were rumored to be unforgiving and dangerous, a rumor this one proved to be at least somewhat true when he roared furiously upon realizing he'd been caged, followed by beating on the barrier in attempt to break it down.

  Briefly, she thought it might be a good idea to reveal herself and explain that she was only intending to hold him until morning, which wasn't far off. But when he changed targets to ram his fists into the rock wall so hard he drew blood—and didn't even seem to notice—she reconsidered.

  Goddess, he's fierce. Aislinn wanted to reserve judgment, thinking it was unfair to label him as nothing more than a dangerous beast when she'd only seen this ferine side of him. But those glowing eyes were fearsome, and his violent actions made it hard to imagine what he might be like normally.

  Regardless, she needed to figure out what to do, and do it quick. The rock wall was actually starting to break away beneath his powerful blows, making the possibility of his escape a serious concern.

  Please calm down, you're not in any real danger.

  After Aislinn urged those words in her mind, to her surprise, there was a major change in the werewolf's demeanor. He ceased hitting the wall, becoming much more passive as he quietly sniffed the air around him before turning to the opening of the niche, casting his glowing eyes beyond the barrier.

  Even more eerily, he was looking right in her direction.

  Silence ensued, and Aislinn instinctively felt the need to get up and move. But the cloak she wore only shrouded her from sight if she stayed still, so there was no way he could see her.

  “Release … me,” he suddenly spoke in garbled English, as if forming words was difficult for him to do in this form.

  He does see me! But how? Maybe it was a case of perceiving her presence without seeing—werewolves supposedly had keen senses after all—so she stayed still, listening as he called a promise.

  “Won't … harm you.”

  Did he actually think she was stupid enough to believe that? Aislinn rolled her eyes. Maybe she was a damned fool for setting this up, but she'd rather be a living fool than a dead one.

  Still, she had a strange lack of intuition telling her that releasing the big beast would be a bad idea—not that her intuition was reliable judging by the night's events. Something good to come from this test? Like what? Getting mauled?

  “At least … come out,” he beckoned.

  Aislinn hesitated, wondering if she should. Maybe he was actually reasonable enough to let her explain all of this. Or maybe he just wants to see my face so he'll know who to kill.

  Before she could make up her mind about it, she realized she had no choice but to leave the safety of her hideaway when, in the distance, Cindy and Lisa came into view, entering the area just as the sun's light began peaking over the trees.

  Immediately, the werewolf started growling at them, at least, until Aislinn finally stepped out of her hiding place. Somehow, the movement silenced her temporary captive once again, making her wonder if he wasn't actually being honest when he'd said he wouldn't hurt her in specific.

  In either case, she simply hoped this didn't end badly.

  Chapter 5

  There wasn't much that could brighten an imprisoned werewolves' mood, but something unexpected changed Troy's outlook on his situation entirely.

  As he'd pummeled his fists into the rock wall, a brief, telepathic message entered his mind like a faint caress. It was so vague he almost hadn't noticed, but a woman's voice clearly whispered, -Please calm down, you're not in any real danger.-

  Immediately, Troy turned, trying to determine the source of the telepathic link. The only female werewolf around that he knew of was Andi, and she was at the estate, which could only mean one thing.

  She's here. My mate's nearby.

  Where humans were concerned, werewolves could sometimes hear their mate's thoughts even before they were marked, and his heart started hammering as he desperately sniffed the air for her scent—but none came. Even still, he felt as if being watched from a distance, standing close to the barrier of his prison to look for signs of her in that general direction.

  To the naked eye, the grove was unoccupied, but he was dealing with magic, meaning she'd likely used it to mask herself. Even his instinct dictated that someone was hiding in the thick brush, simply watching, and they'd definitely camouflaged their presence well, perhaps out of fear. Then again, he'd likely been trapped at their hands, so there was really no way to tell what this person wanted or why they were hidden from sight.

  Additionally, he had no way of knowing if it was his mate until he saw her in the flesh.

  So he tried to listen with his mind, hoping to gain some insight through another brief telepathic link—even sent out a questioning hello to see if he'd get a response. But when nothing came, Troy attempted to verbally communicate and show he meant no harm.

  Still, the only movement in the brush was a gentle breeze blowing through the branches. So was he just imagining things out of desperation when the sun was rising and he'd turned up no other signs of his mate that night?

  That's when two human females arrived at the scene, both wearing punk style clothing and sporting wildly colored hair. Troy growled at them in warning, but stopped when their arrival seemed to spur the hidden individual into view, proving he'd been right all along.

  Still, she wore an irritating green cloak and hood that concealed her identity from head to foot, making it impossible to tell if she was his mate, or even a she.

  “Wow, you captured a werewolf?” the blonde asked.

  “I'm kind of jealous,” said the other.

  Troy watched them closely, remaining ferine despite the rising sun because he still had no idea what this was all about. Yet, he finally learned that the cloaked individual was indeed a woman when she replied on a feminine voice, “I wasn't trying to, but … yeah, Lisa, Cindy, here's a freaking werewolf.”

  Despite her cloak, Troy was convinced that she was his mate, and it became hard for him to focus on anything else. But he forced himself to remain alert, particularly of the two women with her, getting an instinctive feeling that they weren't to be trusted.

  As for the cloaked female, she'd sounded annoyed, likely because she knew his kind weren't very forgiving of transgressions. So he made it a point to remember to calm her worries as soon as he was able.

  Still, the direction of the conversation wasn't to his liking when the purple haired girl, apparently named Cindy, suggested, “Estelle's gonna make you a priestess right off the bat.” She sounded amused, continuing, “A werewolf would grant you a ton of power for the initiation.”

  Priestess? As he wondered at that, the cloaked female canted her head under her hood and asked, “How do you mean?”

  “How do you think?” asked Lisa.

  “You're not intending on keeping a w
erewolf imprisoned, are you?”

  “Not specifically, but why wouldn't we?”

  Suddenly, his assumed mate turned from them, walking a few steps away while exclaiming, “He's gotta have a pack, others who'll come looking for him, and that would endanger me, and your coven. Besides, I only agreed to capture something to hold until morning and then release it, not hold it captive indefinitely.”

  Hearing this talk, Troy realized two things. First, as their brief telepathic link suggested, this cloaked woman actually hadn't meant him any harm. Secondly, she was a witch, or at least practiced the Craft, and her companions were witches as well if they belonged to a coven.

  The two exchanged a look, and Cindy suggested, “He's probably a loner. There aren't any packs around here.”

  Troy almost scoffed at how little these witches knew. Even the loners belonged to a clan, they simply spent most of their time away from it, and the Ashlands would definitely hunt them down for keeping one of their people imprisoned.

  “Then what do you wanna do with him?” the cloaked witch asked.

  Both women sighed, a sound that spelled out their intention to sacrifice him for the power they'd spoken of because his mate suddenly drew out, “Oh no, you're not gonna kill him.”

  “No, you are. For your initiation.”

  Troy let a fierce growl, catching their attention, and after a brief hesitation, his assumed mate looked back at them and shook her head. “Why? So I can have his family and friends on my ass?” She scoffed, “No thanks.”

  As if explaining something to a child, Lisa asked, “Why do you think Estelle wanted you to capture something? It's an offering, a show of trust. If you don't do this, you'll forfeit, and she won't be happy about that.”

  “There might even be repercussions,” Cindy warned.

  And I'll protect her until my dying breath, Troy thought, so convinced the woman they were indirectly threatening was his mate that he snarled at the witches, enjoying their apprehensive looks.

  “As far as I'm concerned, Estelle can get over it,” the cloaked witch retorted. “I was never told I'd have to sacrifice someone to join, and besides, sacrifice goes against my Craft. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure he's unwilling.”

  You're damned straight I am. Yesterday, he might've considered letting them kill him for power, but now that he was so close to liberation, his perspective had drastically changed.

  Still, the sisters merely exchanged a look, and Lisa shrugged. “Oh well, your loss. At least we'll be able to put your offering to good use.”

  Troy was about to let another growl when, without missing a beat, his assumed mate announced on a fiery tone, “He's not an offering. I caught him using my own devices, so if anyone's doing anything with him, it'll be me.”

  The implication of her words nearly made him grin. But the others were unaffected by her claim, and Cindy inquired in a cocky manner, “Then what are you gonna do with him?”

  She sounded unimpressed, probably because the odds were two against one, and even his mate seemed to concede defeat when she muttered, “I guess there's not much I can do. Well, except this.”

  With a wave of her hand toward her captive, the barrier imprisoning him faded away.

  It only took a moment for Troy to register his freedom, and as soon as he did, he jerked his gaze at the two witches and snarled lowly, baring his fangs.

  Immediately, they stiffened, stepping back, and the blonde swiftly waved her own hand, chanting words that might erect another barrier around him. But Troy wasn't having it, darting from the niche he'd been confined inside of to head toward them at full speed with the intent of scaring them away.

  As suspected, they screamed and took off, quickly vacating the area—but so had the cloaked witch, and she was moving in the opposite direction.

  Troy came to an abrupt halt, having absolutely no interest in chasing the offending witches as they fled the scene entirely, and immediately turned to follow her instead. In the process, he reigned in his ferine state until his looks returned to normal, unwilling to scare her anymore than he probably already had once he caught up.

  Thankfully, she wasn't too far ahead, though she was fast and running as if her life depended on it. But Troy was too eager to give up, ready to see her face and gain the certainty that she was the one he'd been looking for all this time.

  As if he'd willed it, the cloak she wore was snagged by a few branches in passing some trees, causing the witch to roughly jerk away and leave it hanging on the limbs. The action revealed a trailing mane of crimson hair along with a black tank top and cut-off denim shorts exposing long legs.

  Automatically, Troy's bestial nature zeroed in on one thought—it's her. The cloak must've done more than mask her looks because he now detected her scent as well, which was even more divine than the lure she'd put in her trap.

  In fact, as he took her in, he could feel things shifting into place inside him. It was vague, but a semblance of his former self seemed to resurface, like she'd flipped the switch keeping his savage tendencies in check.

  In a moment's notice, the rage he'd been struggling with for so long was soothed, and the abyss threatening to swallow him receded.

  It was an incredibly distracting sensation, and he stared at that red hair whipping in the air behind her, thinking it looked as if it had some curl to it. But whatever its texture, he'd love spending his time simply running his fingers through it and—

  Wham! Troy's head suddenly connected with a low lying branch hard enough to break the wood, making him spin backwards. But thankfully, he managed to keep his footing despite the gash he was rewarded with over his left brow, and righted himself before continuing on with blood trailing into his eye.

  Still, his troubles reaching the witch weren't over. As soon as he started gaining on her, the trees around them came to life without warning, their branches tangling together to bar his path. Simultaneously, vines whipped out to wrap around his arms, slowing his pace.

  She was using magic to incite the forest to protect her, and though it was potent, Troy's determination equaled it in strength as he tore his way through, ignoring the lashes of the wood across his chest and the pain of something sharp cutting through his upper arm. Once freed of their grasp, he quickly decided to move over a steep incline she was traveling around in order to cut her off at the pass—as well as avoid the trees guarding the more direct route to her.

  This meant letting the redhead out of his sight for a few moments, but it was worth the effort, leading him to the end of her trail just before she got there.

  Without qualm, Troy jumped from the ledge and landed right in front of her. The witch gasped loudly, coming to a stop so swiftly that she slipped in the wet grass and fell on her ass with a grunt, landing harder than he thought she could withstand without pain. But that didn't prevent her from turning a set of panicked crystal blue eyes up at him and immediately backing away.

  Regardless, Troy closed in to help her up and make sure he hadn't inadvertently hurt her, hoping in the meantime that he could convince her that she had absolutely no reason to fear him.

  Chapter 6

  Aislinn's night simply couldn't get any worse.

  Though she'd never been on a track team, she was moving fast enough to bring home the gold, having no clue if the werewolf would come after her, or if mauling Cindy and Lisa would satisfy his anger. But it definitely wasn't a good idea to stick around and find out.

  In fact, she wouldn't have released him at all, having planned to let the dangerous creature stay imprisoned until the barrier wore off and she was safely out of reach. But with the sisters insisting on sacrificing him, there was no choice in the matter. Aislinn refused to murder someone for personal gain, and couldn't let anyone else hurt him either.

  So even if he caught up and decided to end her, at least she'd die knowing she'd done the right thing.

  Ducking beneath a few branches as she turned down a narrow path, her cloak was snagged, forcing her to tug her arms f
ree and leave it behind. But Aislinn ignored the loss in favor of focusing her energy while chanting for the earth to rise up and protect her chosen path. As a result, anyone who followed would be slowed down, if not stopped completely.

  Hopefully, the spell would give her plenty of time to reach the dirt road up ahead where her car was parked, and escape the area. Almost there!

  Nearing the end of the route, she suddenly ran into a werewolf-shaped roadblock without warning. Aislinn hadn't even heard him coming, but he jumped down from a ledge she'd taken the long way around, landing right in front of her so abruptly that she slid across the damp ground and hit her ass trying to stop.

  Grunting as a sharp pain shot through her rear, she scrambled to keep her wits about her, backing away on all fours while the big male drew in. Shit!

  In a last minute appeal for mercy, she held up her hand and rushed the words, “I'm sorry! Don't hurt—ah!”

  The werewolf grasped her wrist, effortlessly pulling her to her feet. Aislinn thought she was dead, yet, in a surprising move, he merely turned her around, asking, “Are you okay?”

  She drew a confused blank in response, briefly forgetting her fear. Am I okay? Shouldn't he be trying to kill me? Baffled by his concern, she looked back, seeing that he'd leaned down to inspect her for injuries, and her bewilderment died the moment he drew his hand over the back of her leg, then up toward her ass.

  “Hey!” she shot out, tugging away just as a shiver ran through her body from the spot his fingers swept over.

  He didn't look one bit apologetic, standing to his full height while shrugging a broad shoulder. “You fell pretty hard. I wanted to check.”

  “Well thanks, but keep your paws to yourself,” Aislinn retorted, though he was right. Now that she was focusing more on her state of being rather than potentially getting mauled, she realized she'd smacked her ass hard enough that she'd likely find a bruise there later. Nothing a little tonic can't handle.