Birthrite
By
Max Ellendale
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Birthrite: Legacy Series Book Two
Copyright © 2015 Max Ellendale
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: Deadra Krieger
Contributor: J.L. James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Max Ellendale
www.maxellendale.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"To the soul, there is hardly anything more healing than friendship." ~ Thomas Moore
Prologue
"I hope to Gaia that I never see you again." I shift the weight of my duffle bag from one shoulder to the other.
"You will see me again. I'll always be around to haunt you. You'll never forget me." His voice slithers over my skin, bathing me in pure violation.
"You're a murderer," I say through clenched teeth. My fists are tight enough to cause crescent-shaped slices in my palms.
"No one will ever believe you." A grin spreads across his lips. His teeth are black from decay. I remember the smell of his breath on top of me. A shudder wracks my body.
"I know..."
The last thing I hear is the slam of the trailer door followed by the hacking cough-laugh that I hope to never hear again.
Chapter One
The echoes in my head were beginning to sound more like my own. And Mal's sometimes. When the sound of his voice washes over me, there's nothing more I could ever want. Or need.
Kurt called me last night and asked to meet at a coffee shop in Cheyenne. He said he had something that belonged to me. The only thing I could think of was that I'd left something behind at Mercy General where I used to work. Caden accompanied me. Apparently, he could bend to a lot more places than he had let on.
"What do you think he has?" I asked Caden as we sat down inside the cafe.
He snacked on a marshmallow treat while we waited. "Hopefully something unevil." He pulled a chunk off the treat and ate it, licking the marshmallow from his fingers.
"Unevil implies that it was once evil and has been uneviled," I said, then sipped my tea. The heat of the mug against my palms helped to quell some of the anxiety that Kurt's call brought up. Visions of bright flashing lights and ear-shattering sounds invaded my mind every time my thoughts slowed.
"All right, then something with chocolate." He shrugged. I smiled at him. Sometimes I think Caden's goal in life was to make me laugh, or feel comfortable at the very least.
"Hey, Doctor T," Kurt's voice rang out as he approached. My gut tightened at the reminder his presence brought to me. The last time I saw Kurt, he was dragging a werewolf cub to safety from the containment cells where Dr. Reynolds, my evil ex-boss, held her hostage.
Kurt's smile seemed warm when he pulled up a chair and joined us. Caden stood to shake his hand, and I followed suit. It turned out that Kurt works for the Alliance after all. The Alliance is a joint force of humans and werecreatures who fight against corruption and organizations that are out to harm preternatural creatures for personal gain, like the Andrus.
"It's good to see you again, Kurt." Caden gestured for us to sit.
"And you as well, Caden." Kurt seemed much more relaxed than I remembered. I guess being a major player in covert operations is a reason to be tense.
"How is the cub, Kurt? The one from that night..." I trailed off, rolling my shoulders at the uncomfortable memory.
"She's doing well. Esteban took her into his pack and she is thriving after her Firsting," he said. I nodded. About six months ago, I found out that I was accidentally working for an Andrus-infested hospital. I also accidentally created a vaccine against werecreature transformation that my corrupt boss tested on werewolf cubs. We were able to stop him though. He's dead now and only I know how to make the vaccine, though I wish I didn't.
"That was good of Esteban," Caden said.
"His mate became attached to the cub and demanded she remain in the pack." Kurt grinned. "She was a Lost One, but she's found now."
"I'm glad she's well," I said, breathing a sigh of relief. The memory of her blazing yellow eyes, primed for her first change, crossed my mind.
"I brought something for you, Doctor T," Kurt said and placed a bundle, wrapped in leather, on the table. Caden lifted an eyebrow and glanced to me. I shrugged.
"What is it?"
"After the Alliance cleaned up the mess at Mercy General, this was the only thing left." He glanced around before pulling back the leather to reveal the obsidian hilt of a pure silver dagger. I recognized it immediately. Caden frowned at the silver and Kurt turned the dagger over to show me the etching on the handle.
"The carving resembles your glyph. Not too many glyphs have four lines like yours. Most have three, so I... I thought it suiting for...you to have it." He stammered a bit, which made me somewhat suspicious.
"How'd you know about my glyph?" I stared at the dagger and rubbed the arm where my glyph hid under my sleeve.
"I was there investigating you originally, remember?" He tilted his head to the side; the half-smile he wore told me that he knew more about me than just the design and placement of my glyph.
"Oh...yeah." When I saw the dagger last, it was protruding from the stomach of my weretiger girlfriend. I stared at the etching before pushing the dagger back toward Kurt.
"I can't accept that. It nearly killed..." I glanced at Caden, clutching my chest. The panic began to rise when I thought about Vanessa's near-death experience. Caden placed his hand on my shoulder and the worry slipped away. Sometimes having the Alpha by my side was beneficial.
"Thank you, Kurt, for the dagger and the update," Caden said as he wrapped the dagger back up and tucked it into his belt.
"You're welcome. Feel free to call if you ever need assistance from the Alliance. Take care, Doctor T." His smile was polite, but his handshake seemed uncertain. I began to wonder if Kurt was holding something back.
"Stay safe, Kurt," I said. He nodded to me on his way out.
"Ready to head home?" Caden asked, his voice gentle.
"Can we stop by Vanessa's work while we're here? It'll surprise her," I said. My concern for Vanessa never seemed to cease lately. Even though—generally—she could take care of herself, the thought of losing her was still fresh in my mind.
"Sure, I suppose." He chuckled.
We went to the restroom to safely bend to my old apartment building. Every day I
appreciated Caden and Vanessa's gift for bending. It's very useful as I was rarely in the mood for long car rides.
***
"How can you stand to have that silver so close to you?" I asked as we walked toward the studio where Vanessa taught Irish Dancing. Summer heat made everything seem more alive in Wyoming and much busier than I remembered. Just being here made me more jumpy, like the Andrus was around the corner waiting for me to pass. I found myself sticking closer to Caden than usual.
"I dunno. I've always been able to tolerate silver, even as a cub. My father can, too. We're kind of immune to it." He shrugged.
"That's rare." So that's why Caden was able to crush the shackles that bound me to Dr. Reynolds' torture chamber when Vanessa couldn't.
"Just like your gift to heal," he added as we turned the corner on to the main street.
"I wouldn't exactly call it a gift yet. I've only been able to do it once and it was sort of a fluke." I shrugged. My alleged gift healed Vanessa after she was impaled by the dagger that now lingered in Caden's belt. Nauseated by the memory of Vanessa's bloodied, torn flesh weaving together under my fingertips, I shook out my hands.
"You underestimate yourself, Nee." When we arrived at the door of the dance studio, he held it open for me.
"Such a gentleman." I smirked at him as I walked past.
"Always." He stood a bit straighter and grinned.
Inside the studio, the fiddles and whistles of traditional Irish music played along with the distinct clacking of hard shoes. The walls were a deep green decorated with Celtic knots, gold and silver trophies, and display cases with beautiful traditional dresses. I assumed they belonged to the winners of dancing competitions. The faint scent of lilac—Vanessa's lilac—made me smile. I heard her voice directing as we approached the dance floor. A shiver of anticipation ran up my spine. Vanessa and Caroline, the owner of the studio, were positioned in front of a group of girls, teaching them a certain type of jump. I grinned when I saw Vanessa demonstrate the step. She was a confident teacher but gentle with the girls, all of whom appeared between eight and ten years old. Caden seemed captivated by the dancing and watched with a cheery smile. Vanessa looked up from her instruction as if she sensed me standing there. Our gazes met, warming the most intimate parts of me. She left the class to Caroline and hurried over, a delighted smile playing across her lips. My stomach did a flip-flop when she approached.
"Shawnee, what are you doing here?" she asked, glancing to Caden in acknowledgement before hugging me. I gave her a squeeze then kissed her cheek.
"Kurt wanted to give us something and I convinced Caden to let me surprise you," I said, then nibbled my lip. "Can we watch you dance?"
"Of course," she said, her cheeks tinged pink.
She took me by the hand and led us to sit in the viewing area with some of the parents. Vanessa stared at me a moment, her eyes shining with some hidden emotion. Before I could ask, she returned to the dance floor to lead the girls in a routine borrowed from Riverdance. I couldn't remember ever seeing Vanessa dance before, though I'd heard about it often. Her lithe, slender form jumped and moved about as if she were gliding across the floor. Maybe I would ask her to dance for me alone sometime...
Chapter Two
"What did Kurt give you?" Xany asked as soon as Caden and I appeared in the kitchen. She bounced in her typical manner and, if it were possible, wore even less clothing than usual. I had to keep my eyes on her face to avoid staring at her nearly exposed body parts. I couldn't understand Xany's aversion to full attire and maybe I never would.
Caden handed me the dagger in its leather bindings. I unwrapped it and held it out to her. The leather was a barrier between me and the silver. Touching it made it seem like I condoned what it had done to Vanessa.
"He said the carving reminded him of my glyph, so he thought I should have it," I attempted to explain, though I knew she wouldn't judge me. Xany picked up the dagger to inspect it and turned the hilt over in her hand.
"It does look like your glyph," she said, while gripping it firmly in the palm of her hand. "It's a nice dagger."
I watched as she turned her left arm over and compared the etching on the handle to the glyph on her forearm. Unlike my very obvious birthmark, Xany's three-scratch glyph resembled a tattoo. The brownish hue melded perfectly with the tone of her skin. She shrugged lightly and held the dagger, hilt first, for me to take.
"I don't want it. It hurt Vanessa." Another vision of Vanessa's injury flashed into my mind. The echo of her rattling breath sent shivers down my spine. I took a few deep breaths to keep the overwhelming memory at bay.
"Yeah but without this dagger you might not have discovered your gift," Xany said. She had a point there.
"Why is my negligent sister wielding a silver dagger in the presence of werecreatures?" Mal asked as he entered the kitchen. He came from behind to wrap his arms around me. My body seemed to sigh in relief. There was no place safer in the world than in the embrace of my mate.
"I'm not negligent. You better watch it, bub." Xany huffed and jabbed the dagger in his direction. Mal laughed in response.
"You smell good," I whispered to him. He smiled and nuzzled my neck, brushing his lips over my flesh. I stroked the soft skin of his arms. When I touched him like this, little bits of fire seemed to lick at my fingers. Not an averse kind of fire, the kind that made me want more.
"So do you." His hands slid into the front pockets of my jeans. My stomach answered his affection with a flutter.
Xany giggled at us as she sheathed the dagger and gave it back to Caden. I continued to caress Mal's arms and mused over the fact that I was still getting used to him in some ways. A month ago, we had officially chosen each other as mates, which is not as simple as it sounds. In accepting me, Mal also accepted Vanessa and she's since accepted him. It hasn't been easy though. Sometimes I felt like I have to choose between them. The reality is that I can have them both. This has made me edgy lately. If I decide to be with both of them, I worry that they would be judged. Mal for sharing his mate, which wolves almost never do, and Vanessa for choosing to be with a woman who had already chosen to be with a man. It didn't help that they are opposite genders or that they are opposite species, werewolf and weretiger respectively.
"We watched Vanessa dance today," Caden told Xany. "It's trippy how fast their feet move."
Xany grinned as she hugged him. "I've only seen that stuff on TV." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him before tugging him over to the oven to show him what she had cooked for dinner. It smelled like roast beef. Mal led me to the sofa where he sat, then pulled me into his lap. This position was quickly becoming my favorite way to sit. I've always known skin to skin contact was really important to werewolves, but I'm beginning to learn how important it is to me as well. My mind wandered to what it would feel like to be skin to skin with him and Vanessa at the same time.
"She'll be here soon." He always seemed to know my thoughts.
"I just like it when we're all in the same place," I confessed.
"I know." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, brushing his knuckles across my cheek in the process. It warmed my core in ways I had yet to give words. I rested my head on his shoulder and he gave me a squeeze. Ever since the incident at Mercy General, I struggled to separate from my pack mates. Prior to this, I wanted most of them to keep their distance. Things have changed. Mal placed his hand on my thigh, rubbing to comfort me as my thoughts roamed.
"I got my license in the mail today," I told him. "I am officially a Utah doctor."
"That's great. Do you think you would use your gift with some of your patients?" he asked, his chin resting on my shoulder.
"I'm not sure. First, I need to learn how to use it willfully. Xany got a cut the other day while chopping carrots and I couldn't heal it." Discouragement pressed heavily on my shoulders.
"Maybe it needs to be a life-threatening wound," he suggested.
"My mom could heal anything. Right before I healed Vanessa,
I remembered her healing my scraped knee after I fell off my bike when I was little. In a way, it told me what to do. I can't seem to do it even for the littlest things when I try."
Sometimes it hurts to think about my early interactions with my mother. She's been dead for what seemed like my entire life at this point. Sharing a gift with her made me feel more connected to her, like she's alive in me somehow.
"You were emotionally connected to Vanessa and to what was going on. Maybe that's a part of it," he said. His fingertips edged closer, caressing along my inner thigh. It was hard to focus on the conversation with the little shockwaves he kept sending through me.
"I'll just have to keep trying." I plucked at the frayed bits of the beaded bracelet he wore. He kissed my cheek, which of course brought a smile to my lips.
Right on cue, Vanessa entered the living room from the doorway of my bedroom. There are plenty of doorways and windows in the main room, but for some reason she always chose my bedroom as her passageway in and out of the cabin. She pranced over to the sofa, her feet soundless on the wooden floor. Like any good weretiger, stealth is her forte. My mood lightened when she bent over the back of the couch to hug me. Her purring was vibrant and affectionate. Xany glanced over from the kitchen. She must have sensed my sudden relief now that everyone was in the cabin. Sometimes it's annoying having an empath living in the same house. Nothing is secret. Mal chuckled when Vanessa hopped over the back of the sofa and nearly sat on top of him. His grip on me seemed to tighten in a possessive embrace. Hidden in his laugh, I thought I heard the faintest remnants of a growl.
"I think you two have broken the record for cat-dog closeness," I jested at my mates. Mates. Only you, Shawnee, would have two mates. Breaking the rules and unable to choose.
"We could fight if you want." A snicker escaped Vanessa's lips as she dragged a single fingernail over my knee.
"That could be arranged." A wicked grin melted across Mal's face.
Birthrite (Legacy Series Book 2) Page 1
