After a moment of both of them studying one another, Darius spread his wings and prayed Betha had been true to her word. The raven glided to the ground willing himself to change. At the moment, he slid on the breeze from the branch, he felt his form growing, changing. His body elongated. Tendons and bones rearranged themselves into the shape of a man instead of a raven. By the time he hit the ground, human feet touched upon the hard, wet earth. His toes sank into the mud, and he appeared naked before the werewolf. A smile appeared on the woman's face and transformed her appearance making her look ten years younger, lighting up her eyes while she took in his body. He returned the gesture and he accepted her silent compliment. At least she admired beauty when she saw it, even if she was a wolf.
With a quick wave of his hand, he was dressed in a black silk shirt, loose-fitting black pants, soft black leather boots, and a black trench coat to go with the look. One advantage of his power that he thrived on was doing magick and dressing in style. One of the advantages to living forever. On his off time, he normally wore a kilt, but because this was such a formal occasion, he wanted to be sure he looked his best.
"I think I liked you naked better. Not that the clothes don't suit you, but I could definitely see me eating you up.” His emissary stepped close to him and licked the side of his cheek before taking his earlobe between her teeth and gnawing on the flesh for show. His groin tightened. He inhaled her scent, smelling the aroma of the forest on her, of places untouched by man. Her power tickled over her skin like running ants. He stood perfectly still. She placed a warm hand over his heart. She was not as tall as him. Darius peered into her wine-colored eyes. She nestled herself along the curves of his body.
He shook. He'd never been this close to a female werewolf. The Raven Warrior didn't know if her allure came from being so old and powerful, or if she was just that sexy. His mouth became dry. Darius swallowed. His heart picked up speed, racing its own marathon under her palm. The heat of her body radiated against him like a warm blanket. She was hotter than a normal human. Desperately, he yearned to take her in his arms and taste her luscious lily pale lips, but Darius felt a pulling on his hands. When he looked at his fingers, he saw the nails were darkening back to black, curling into talons. His flesh was also starting to blacken. He couldn't turn back into a raven. He swallowed and slowed his breathing like Jet had taught him to. He could do this.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gently pushed his guide away. “Look, miss, as much as I appreciate the attention. I can't return your affections. Please can you lead me to your vedma as you called her? I would be grateful."
A look of disappointed hurt flashed across her features. He heard her utter a low growl in the back of her throat sounding like a rumble of distant thunder. She ran her hand over the fabric of his shirt and slid her finger along the waist of his jeans. Darius clenched his fists and held onto his human form. His muscles trembled and cried out to move back into raven form because he was walking along a taboo area of his curse. If he were aroused, like he was now, he would begin to change back. Darius took a step back from her. All he wanted to do was throw her down on the sopping wet ground and take her right there. He got the sense she liked rough sex like he did. Like he used to.
Blasted curse. I need a good fuck to ease the tension in my system. If I could, this bitch would be on the ground spreading them for me right now. The tightening from the change moved farther up his arms. His skin was beginning to stretch and reform. The Scot swallowed and took a few deep breaths trying to regain his composure. Jet, his fellow Warrior, had taught them mediation and breathing was a good way to focus on keeping their transformation at bay when they were stressed. Meditation had helped him some, but his nature dictated he react first and then think later. His curse had changed him some, but not much. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing. Darius blocked out the scents of the forest. The lily perfume mixed with the musk of the werewolf before him. The rain enhanced scent of the leaves under his feet and the new smell of earth as the water washed away the topsoil.
The atmosphere was chilled from the rain. As his breath escaped, he felt its warmth pass over his lips and touch the tip of his nose. Everything was so alive around him. He could easily feel the life flowing around him, drumming on his skin like errant heartbeats, but he blocked that out, focused on his body, and began to calm down. When he did, his muscles relaxed and his body returned to normal human form. He opened his eyes and saw his guide eying him curiously.
"Come on, bird boy. I'll show you the way.” The werewolf turned and began to walk away. Darius knew she walked slowly, intentionally swaying her hips, like the sashay of a long, bushy tail.
I bet she does have some tail, too. He smirked and followed behind her. Darius walked the path, which was barely discernable in the pounding rain. The trail was well trodden, covered in broken pine needles with roots arching out of the ground, waiting to snare a foot if one weren't sure of footing. Nevertheless, he followed in her exact path treading carefully, but with her speed. He was not going to be shown up by a woman or a werewolf. Just because they were born shape-shifters and not cursed did not mean they were better than he.
After a few minutes of treading uphill, they crested the knoll and Darius found himself deep within the wood. A small log cabin puffed white smoke from its stone chimney. The house had been built with care and fine craftsmanship. A large pile of wood stood off to the left side of the house. A swing creaked idly in the gales. A four-paned window stared at him. The single eye peering into his soul, but he did not faze him and peered right back in. Whatever was inside the house had power, which vibrated like the wind rattling the glass. Whatever was inside had power like Caleb. This was the house of their vedma. He still didn't know where he had heard that word before, but he knew the meaning.
Witch.
And he hated witches.
The werewolf stopped outside the property and extended her hand to the door. “You are expected.” She gave Darius a sly smile.
The Raven Warrior stared at the open door. It had not been open a minute ago. Music drifted out from the warmth inside, mixing with the thunder of the rain. He couldn't make out the words except the tune, which was exotic, something where feet pounded the floor hard and women whirled around dancing into a frenzy until they dropped. The tune was trancelike the longer he listened. Inside he caught a whiff of the meaty aroma of stew and a heady incense that smelled like jasmine and myrrh. He knew those smells.
Darius whirled around to face his guide, but the night had already swallowed her up as if she had only been a vision to taunt him. Not even a trace of her scent lingered. The rain had not let up. The deluge had actually seemed to have gotten worse. He was soaked to the bone. Using his magick to make himself dry again would be easy, but once the rain got a hold of him, he would be saturated once more. Inside, the fire winked at him like a forbidden temptress to come inside and warm himself in its arms. Cautiously, he made his way toward the door. He heard the distinct jingle of bells. Darius stepped on the porch. The floor was sound with no creaking boards. They had been fitted together with care. He poked his head inside the open door. An empty rocking chair wobbled on its rockers. Frustrated, he looked around the cabin and saw the other door was closed tight. He was getting tired of the run around and the spooky shit. This was not a bad horror movie, as his charge would say. He wanted to see whoever this witch was, get his assignment, and then look into the death of the child who had been killed. He hated this already.
"Well, well, Morena actually listened to me and sent one of her esteemed Raven Warriors. My, my, I am very surprised. I wasn't sure if she would hear me or not.” The voice had a Slavic accent. He hadn't heard the voice in centuries. His host's words chilled his bones and hardened his heart. The voice used to caress his insides and make his heart burn inside his chest along with his soul.
Slowly, he turned around to face the centuries-old voice. Black ringlets framed an oval face. Golden hoops dangled from her ears. Juicy,
apple-red lips twisted into a smile. The nightshade-dark eyes he remembered now had a ring of gold around them. Darius inhaled, smelling the aroma of wolf on her. That was new. She was as beautiful as ever, and even more powerful than he remembered. This was the woman who had cursed him in the first place.
She sauntered across the room. He remembered how her hips moved on top of him. How much she loved to taunt him, taking him fully into her depths and riding him slowly until she built the tension so deep inside of him he thought he would explode. Darius shuddered. She ran her nails over his shirt and gave him a wicked smile.
"Darius, I'm surprised Morena sent you. Then again, it does seem fitting. It's been a long time. And you still look the same.” Underneath her smile hid the seductive, malicious gypsy he knew she was. He stared at her and remembered her sister. They were so much alike, yet they were so different.
His rage built inside of him. Without thinking, he wrapped his hand around her throat. He lifted her off her feet and threw her across the room, and she landed against her bookcase that was full of containers of herbs and bottles of things he could only imagine. Wooden shelves and containers crashed down around her. Darius's temper consumed him like a fever. He had prayed, had waited eons to be able to take out his wrath on the witch who had cursed him. The volcano of his fury settled over his heart like strong bile, and if he could have breathed fire, he would have. He felt ten times the ire he had felt when he first realized Linnea, Tremain's heartmate, was a witch, and he had nearly beaten her to death. He would have beaten her to death for punishment of the evil things she had done, except Caleb had stopped him. Linnea turned out to be the one who had saved his brother, but Darius didn't like her. The Raven Warrior had pictured himself trampling Marija, hearing her bones crunching under the weight of his fists, but his actual victim had been Linnea. Now, after centuries, his prayers had been answered, and he could finally have his revenge.
He waited a moment, knowing the gypsy was not dead. The Raven Warrior heard her heart beating, thumping a steady rhythm that would drive him crazy if he didn't silence the rhythm soon. The rain had died down outside, and the logs in the fire were popping like fireworks almost as if they were celebrating the demise of his love just as much as he. He only hoped the grand finale would come soon. After a moment, she stirred and stood. A trail of blood running in a jagged line from her right temple was the only mar to her perfection. Her wound looked like it hurt like hell. Her eyes glowed in the firelight. The gold in them danced with a hatred he had not seen since the day she discovered him messing around with her sister.
"You ready for some more, bitch?"
A snarl echoed from her throat. Her nails had grown longer. Before he could do anything, she launched herself at him and pinned him to the ground. Something sharp was at his throat. “I wouldn't move if I were you, Darius. One small move and this blade will slice your throat."
He chuckled. The Warrior had silently summoned his dagger. His sword would have been too noticeable. The small blade was a special weapon forged from the same metal from which the other Raven Warriors’ swords had been cast. The dagger was sharp like a diamond and made from a mixture of metals. The blade itself was double-edged and lined with silver. He had it pressed against her stomach.
"A dagger as small as that baby won't do any good to me. Or did you not do your homework? Marija, I'm surprised at you. Tsk-tsk."
The blade dug deeper into his skin but did not cut. “You forget, Raven Warrior, one of the only things that can truly kill you. An enchanted, poisoned silver blade. One nick, and if the poison gets in your system, you're a dead man."
Darius was not about to show her the fear which seized his heart. That was one of the only things which could truly kill his kind. Then again, if legends were true, silver was poison to werewolves. Time to call her bluff. “Well, dearest, I'm really not that happy to see you or did you figure that the silver dagger against your gut won't kill you either?"
She searched his eyes. In their sordid past, she knew he never bluffed. He was always true to his word. “I guess we have to call it a truce then?” Her hand moved away from his throat.
Darius let his own dagger dissolve back into the other realm. Killing Marija, even though he desperately desired to, would not be in good taste when he had been sent to look into the death of one of her pack. How in the world had it become her pack? She was not a werewolf when I was sleeping with her. The gypsy got off him and backed away. He got up slowly, keeping his eyes on her in case she decided to do something to him again. He wouldn't put it past her. Everything in him called out to do something awful to her, but he had to fight the instinct. He had been sent on an errand. Whenever he did get to see Betha, he was going to voice his displeasure. The Banshee Queen knew exactly what she had been doing in sending him to investigate the death of the wolf pup.
The Raven Warrior stood by the fire letting the flames dry him and crossed his hands over his chest. “Why was I summoned?” He tried to keep his voice steady, authoritative, but a thread of hate and loathing slipped in. If his ex-lover noticed, he didn't care.
"I didn't call upon you specifically. Morena seems to have a sense of humor. There's something hunting my pack. There have been two killings among the wolves and over the past year, there have been humans and animals found within pack land."
"I wasn't told about the other deaths. Just about the one child."
"That's because I didn't think the deaths were related until the latest murder. Now will you shut up and let me finish please."
Darius's jaw hardened, but he held his tongue. Marija waited for him to interrupt her again, but when he didn't she continued. “A moon ago, exactly one month, one of the pack found his son with his throat torn open and half eaten on his doorstep. He thought the boy had been playing in the woods. Those who have been born here have nothing to fear. Our pack is prosperous. We've even been widening our territory. This morning, the pack leader's sister found her youngest, the same way on her doorstep. The boy was not even eight. Who could be hunting children? We thought the killer was a bear at first with the animal mutilations, even with the first couple mortals. But then the pack began to realize this was done by something worse. We searched for tracks, a scent, anything, but there was nothing.” The unshed tears in the gypsy's eyes glistened like gems in the firelight.
Darius should have felt bad for her, but he didn't. He understood her anger. Killing children was wrong. They were innocent to the actions of adults. His thoughts wandered to Jonathan. He wouldn't want anything to happen to his charge. An image of the scene Marija described flashed in his mind with Jonathan shredded and a frozen scream of horror on his features. The Warrior mulled over what she had said and had a suspicion the killer was another werewolf. Whether it was part of the pack or a lone wolf hunting in their territory, he was not sure. No matter, because hunting its own kind was wrong.
"I'm sorry for the loss to your pack. I can understand how you feel about the children. They should never be put in harm's way. What do you want me to do?"
The werewolf stared at him. “Is that a hint of concern I detect in your voice? Has the hard Warrior softened some in his old age?"
"Don't toy with me, Marija. I'm not here by choice. I have a charge to watch over and that has been interrupted so I can look into who or what is killing the children of your pack. In my opinion, you should be handling this on your own. This has nothing to do with the affairs of the Raven Warriors. Werewolves aren't in the magickal community as I see it. You're just a bunch of stinking animals."
This made the werewolf laugh. “Animals? Look who's talking, Darius. You transform into a bird."
The Scotsman stepped forward. The muscles in his arms clenched. He wanted so badly to hit her.
"What are you going to do? Hit me? Beat me because I cursed you with what you deserved."
"I didn't deserve this!"
"You slept with my sister and broke my heart. Of course you deserved it.” She stopped and took a breath. He
saw the past dance in her eyes. “Do you know why I was coming to surprise you that night?"
"Because you wanted to go another round and then dump me and run off with your gypsy troupe?"
"Bastard,” Marija uttered under her breath.
"Yes, I am. You made me this way."
The werewolf got right in his face and growled at him. The woman he knew had certainly changed over the centuries. She still had a mouth on her that could shame a sailor. But her lips were just as delicate and delicious as he remembered. The way they turned up whenever she was angry had always made him want her more. But that was in the past. Without warning, she slapped him across the face, and the tears finally escaped her eyes.
"I called upon Morena to curse you because you ripped my heart from my chest. There you were bareback, pounding into my sister. You were just using her like you had used me. You never loved me, Darius. I don't even think you know what love is. I was coming to tell you we were going to have a daughter. And then I found you with Sila, my sister!"
He stepped back, not even feeling the stinging on his cheek from the slap. Her words sunk in. He had a daughter! Why hadn't he sensed her? Why hadn't he ever known about her? “A daughter?” he whispered. Something in his heart broke. He never imagined he would have a child. Darius stumbled and sat down in a chair beside the fireplace. “Where is she? What happened to her?"
Fur and Feathers [A Raven Saga Book 2] Page 4
