Crave The Night by Michele Hauf, Sharon Ashwood, Lori Devoti & Patti O'Shea

by Michele Hauf

  Rafe swore long and foully. “That doesn’t seem penalty enough.”

  Lila pressed her fingers to her temples. “Masterson’s honor, such as it is, lies in amassing gold for himself and his supporters. His word means nothing. It’s hard to penalize him for breaking something he does not value himself. The magic has nothing to stick to.”

  Rafe gave a low growl. “Next time let me negotiate your deals. Better yet, don’t make any.”

  Lila managed a withering look.

  A rumble came from somewhere deep in the house. Rafe looked toward the office door, shoulders tensed. “What’s that?”

  The pounding in her head was compounded by the harsh flicker of the overhead light. The pen on Lila’s desk rolled back and forth. She grabbed it, then her cell phone, which was skittering across the desk, and stuffed them in her pockets. The world lurched again. She gripped the back of her chair, feeling the floor slide sideways for an instant. The rumble stopped as abruptly as it started.

  “Earthquake.” Rafe concluded. His shoulders tensed under the tight fabric of his shirt.

  Lila forced the words past rising nausea. Her vision was narrowing to a dark tunnel, with unbearably bright light at the other end. “No. Everything that was created as a result of Masterson’s bargain with me is breaking down.”

  She felt Rafe’s hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “It doesn’t feel great.” She licked her lips. Fey were supposed to be light, airy beings in gossamer nighties. They weren’t supposed to hurl in public. “Before it disappears, the house is going to collapse. We have to get out of here.”

  She could already feel the fey gathering, alarmed by the sudden drop in the field of magical power. If the humans had a technical instrument to measure such things, the needle would have been dropping to the red zone.

  “I have Pack members asleep downstairs.” Rafe’s voice was hard as granite. “What about them?”

  She could feel her sisters in the room, feel their questions crowding in on her. The vow that bound them was fading, too. Take the wolves to safety. Get the others to help you. Then go home. You’ve done enough, and I’ve failed.

  Do you not need us any longer? Rosemund asked.

  Can we do nothing for you? Arabelle chimed in.

  Lila hesitated, wanting their comfort but knowing they could afford to give no more. They had families waiting in the woods who needed their protection and comfort. Their homes were under siege. No. Go now.

  Her ending would be different.

  A rush of wings told her they had gone. She felt tears slip down her cheeks. I’m sorry I couldn’t make this work.

  She cleared her throat, fighting against a lump of pain. When words came out, her voice sounded thick and odd. “My sisters will see your wolves to safety. They will wake as soon as they are outside.”

  The house began to shudder. Pain speared through her, lancing white-hot from jaw to tailbone. Lila cried out, groping for the chair before she fell. The huge glass windows cracked then shattered, glass raining from the frames.

  “Go!” she cried, scraping together the last of the failing magic and thrusting it toward Rafe. “I release you from any and all vows. Get out of here! Save yourself!”

  Her vision cleared just enough to see him glaring down at her, hands on his hips. His eyes had flared wolf-yellow, startling beneath the fall of curling dark hair. Was he going to murder her on the way out? It would be a waste of time. She was finished.

  “Yeah, right,” he said. She could barely hear the words through the sounds of collapse.

  Cracks spidered up the wall, mirroring the agony scampering along her nerves. Lila hissed air through her teeth, digging her fingers into the slick leather of the chair. She didn’t want Rafe looking at her. Not like this. “Get. Shoo.”

  Instead, he picked her up as if she were no more than a toddler. The motion hurt, and she couldn’t stifle a cry.

  “Hush.” Rafe turned to the window, his expression falling as he examined the steep drop down the cliff. “Can you fly?”

  “No.”

  “Then stairs it is.”

  “We’ll never make it out.”

  “Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”

  “Promise me you’ll leave me and go.”

  “Lady, I’m not promising you squat. That seems to backfire around you fey.” He was already out of the office and onto the landing.

  “But—”

  “Busy now. Talk less.”

  The stairs gave a heave, throwing them against the wall. Lila’s head bumped against something solid, but the knock barely registered. She already felt like goblins were using her for origami. Being carried was doing nothing for her lurching stomach.

  Rafe stumbled, catching his footing at the last second.

  “Put me down!” she wiggled out of his grasp.

  “Can you run?”

  “If you will.”

  “Okay.” He grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the way as the top landing sheared away, spraying drywall and wood shards into the air. The overhead light crashed to the floor at the base of the stairs. Rafe leaped over it, swinging her past the explosion of crystal and sparks.

  “This way!” Rafe shouted. They made a dead run for the front door. Jumping out a main floor window would have been faster but, with so much glass flying through the air, the door was the safest route. Somewhere deep in the house, a support beam whined as it torqued and splintered. The roof buckled to the chorus of more breaking windows.

  The front hall had a cathedral ceiling, and it was raining debris. Lila felt something slam into her shoulder, sending her staggering forward. Her palms hit the floor, but she just pushed up and kept running. Rafe was heaving at the door, fighting against a frame that was losing its proper shape. In another minute, that too would fall to rubble—with them under it.

  Rafe had the door open a few inches. He wrapped his fingers around the front edge of the heavy oak planks and planted his feet. Plaster coated his hair and clothes, sweat streaking his dusty face like war paint. He strained against the door, muscles bunching and feet pushing against the floor. The door moved, but only inches.

  Lila scrambled to the other side, bracing her back against the frame and pushing with all her might. It probably cost her more effort than it helped Rafe, but the door moved another foot before it wedged against the buckling floor. With a massive crunch, the high ceiling of the foyer collapsed in earnest. Chunks of drywall fell like gigantic hail.

  Wasting no time, she wriggled through the opening, Rafe barely squeezing through behind her. She could see at a glance the destruction had spread outside. The Lexus had disintegrated to a puddle of molten metal and plastic. The hot tub and pool were reduced to a muddy slough. Once a spell was broken, it was over—just like her dreams of saving her home.

  He caught her hand, pulling her across the grassy clearing until they were well away from the house. Then he finally let her fall to the soft, springy cushion of leaves and fallen pine needles. She could see the sleepers at the other side of the clearing, where the fey had set them down. Her former prisoners were just beginning to stir.

  Lila felt tears tracking down her cheeks, part sadness, part relief. At least this part of the nightmare was over. Above, she could see a twinkling blur against the stars. Those were her sisters and the other fey, flying home without her. At least now they could go home, restored to their former selves.

  There had been no good-byes. It was the way they had agreed it would unfold, if things ended this way. Less pain for them all, or so she’d thought when they’d made the pact. Now she would have given anything to feel her sisters’ arms around her one more time.

  The last of the house finally smashed to the earth. A faint glow clung to the rubble. Lila watched, hypnotized, as bit by bit it dissolved to nothing. In an hour or two, the hilltop would be as pristine and wild as she’d found it, cleansed of her intrusion.

  She suddenly realized she was alone. Rafe was gone, leaving
only the sound of the breeze in the trees. The physical pain had ended, but it had left her hollow, her emotional and physical reserves pounded to nothing.

  And then she heard the wolf. She twisted around to see a great grey beast standing on a rise, muzzle raised to the sky. Rafe. He howled, the mournful sound starting low and rising up the scale, shivering through her like all the aching solitude of the world distilled into one cry. Even as it ended, it still filled the night like a question begging answer.

  And after a long moment, that answer came, first one voice, then another and another. The wolves had been close by, no doubt waiting for a moment of weakness. Well, this is it. Come and get me.

  Her attention went back to the sleepers, who had all assumed their beast forms as the sleeping spell faded. Now they rose, shaggy gray and brown and white with eyes like molten gold and copper. They shook themselves awake and bounded forward, barking a greeting to their Pack. Lila shrank into the grass, making herself as still as she could.

  The next moment the Pack boiled up from the steep, overgrown trail. In a flood of fur, they raced in a circle that ringed the grassy clearing, looping around their missing members. Lila saw nose-touching and tail-wagging, the yips and friendly bites of greeting. There must have been thirty beasts milling in a noisy, furry knot. From Lila’s place in the shadows, the mob looked like a single wolf with dozens of tails.

  Except one wolf was still sleeping. Lila thought it was the oldest of them, the patriarch of the land down by the elbow of Timber Lake. He was a big and burly old rancher with enough head of cattle to throw the nation a barbecue, but the sleeping spell seemed to have a special grip on him. Lila held her breath as three of the wolves gathered around, nudging him with their noses. What have I done? Surely the old wolf will be all right?

  Her heart beat painfully as the seconds dragged on. Finally, the old wolf’s tail gave a thump, startling one of his inquisitive friends into skittering sideways. Lila exhaled in a rush that was half a laugh as the werewolf clambered to his feet and shook his coat with an air of affronted disgust.

  From his perch on the hilltop, Rafe sent out another howl. When it was taken up by the others, this time there was no mistaking the note of jubilant triumph. The freshly-awakened wolves joined in the romping chaos, folding into the dance of ears and tails and fur. The roiling Pack circled for a moment more, and then poured back down the rocky path, the noisy chorus floating back to Lila long after they had gone.

  She let out another long, relieved breath and rose to her feet. She was safe. The wolves hadn’t given her a single glance. Surely they had known she was there, known what she had done, but they had chosen to leave her alone. All except Rafe, who bounded down from his vantage point and trotted to her side.

  “How come you didn’t go with them?” she asked. “How come they didn’t eat me?”

  Even as a wolf, his expression of disbelief was perfectly clear. He bumped his head against her hand. Lila staggered slightly, not quite braced for the force of a wolf so large that his shoulders were level with her hip.

  Then she understood. Somehow, he’d protected her. She sank her hand into his ruff, feeling the coarse warmth of it. It made her realize how cold she was.

  “Very chivalrous of you, Mr. Devries. You are kinder than I deserve.”

  He grabbed the hem of her dress and gave a light tug. He clearly wanted her to follow him.

  “There’s nowhere to go out here. In case you haven’t noticed, the house fell down. You must have huffed and puffed a little too hard.”

  He gave her a droll expression.

  “Yeah, I know. Clichés suck.”

  He tugged again. Lila glanced ruefully at her expensive leather shoes, then kicked them off. She didn’t have to play human anymore. “All right then. You’re in charge. Lead on.”

  They walked down the first long stretch of the drive, Rafe padding so close to her side that she could feel the brush of his coat. They stopped, picked up the clothes he had discarded, and Lila tucked them in a bundle under her arm. The gesture felt oddly normal, as if she picked up after werewolves every day. Despite all that had happened that night, despite all that would happen soon, she felt perfectly safe.

  He turned left onto a deer track that led deep into the woods. He looked back at her with a flash of golden eyes. Well used to navigating tree roots and brambles, Lila followed.

  Eventually, they stopped in a clearing surrounded by trees so ancient she could nearly hear them thinking. She walked to the edge of the clearing, stroking the bark of one old, mossy trunk.

  Lila felt hands touch her shoulders, gentle yet heavy and warm. She spun around, the catch of her breath loud in the still glade. Rafe was in human form again, the moonlight bathing every muscle of his body in marble whiteness. Blessed Titania!

  Chapter Eight

  Her gaze travelled the length of his body. She felt helpless to stop herself, as if she were the victim of a fey compulsion. Suddenly, her pulse felt too thick, the blood too hot to move normally through her body. It was pooling in her core like lava about to erupt. Every part of her tingled with the need to be connected to him, flesh to warm, hot flesh.

  What did she have to lose? It was time to finally share the joy and generosity buried deep inside her, to give Rafe something bright after dragging him through her dark world. It was a small thing compared to the kindness he had shown her.

  Lila leaned into him, her cheek against the hollow of his collarbone. With curious fingertips, she traced the landscape of his hard, bare chest. He laid a hand over hers, stilling her movements.

  “What’s this?” he asked, his low voice a husky whisper.

  “An end and a beginning. You’re free. The wolves are free. That part of the nightmare is over.”

  “And the beginning?”

  “Of everything that comes after, whatever that may be.” She threaded her free hand into his dark, wavy hair, noticing how similar the rough texture was to his wolf’s coat. She pulled his mouth down to hers, letting the heat of his lips warm her to the core.

  He didn’t need a second invitation. He gathered her to him with a devouring need. His tongue found hers, seeking out deeper secrets, stealing kisses from within the kiss.

  In the meantime, his fingers found the side zipper of her dress and began an exploratory mission. He had the dress off her before she quite realized what he was doing. Now, though, when the cold air hit newly exposed parts, she didn’t feel chilly at all. There was ample evidence that he was quite ready to keep her warm.

  He cupped her breast in his hand, caressing her through the black silk of her bra. Lila pressed into him, her fingers in his hair, then raking over the broad landscape of his shoulders. Rafe bowed his head, taking her other breast in his mouth, leaving the fabric wet and her nipple aching.

  He tasted the other, the sensation spearing through her until her legs were weak and trembling. Nothing he did was by halves. His scent, musky and wild, grew stronger as they touched. He nipped her neck, the sharp pain mixing so close to pleasure it nearly pushed her over the brink.

  He’s marked me. She should have been affronted, but just then it seemed sexy as hell.

  Lila pulled him down to the soft, mossy ground. Both of them were growing impatient. In moments, her bra and panties were discarded in the nearby ferns. But then Rafe paused, pushing the hair from her face and studying her, amber wolf-light sparking in his eyes.

  “You’re impossibly beautiful,” he whispered. “Your hair is the color of the moonlight. Your skin shines like you’ve bathed in the stars.”

  “Mhmmm,” she murmured, kissing him to coax him back into action.

  Your eyes are the saddest I’ve ever known. But Rafe didn’t say it. There were moments for conversation, and this was not one of them. He let his body do the speaking, straddling her so that she was caught in the cage of his limbs.

  There was grace and refinement in her form, but he knew she possessed just as much boundless courage. She was strong and fragile i
n a way that moved him. You did battle for your people. You dared the impossible out of love. So she’d lost. So she’d taken ten years off his life. Lila Wilding had guts and a protective streak that matched his own.

  He bent to kiss the mark he’d made on the pale skin of her neck, laving it with his tongue. She tasted like a meadow, spring-fresh and floral. She moaned, her neck arching to expose her throat. The beast in him rose, responding to the primal gesture of surrender. She was his.

  With new urgency, he worked his way over her body, claiming the gentle mounds of her breasts, the delicate flare of her hips. Long moon-pale tresses fanned around them, gleaming softly in the diffuse light. It was like a carpet of silk.

  Her thighs parted in invitation. Rafe explored the soft inner flesh, nipping, tasting, coaxing a cry from her.

  “Hurry up,” she gasped.

  Lila felt him enter, her body straining to accept his size. She was ready, but this was—unexpected. She’d heard rumors of the generously made beast-men, whispered tales among women both human and fey. They were true. She gasped, her eyes wide and staring into his. His frank satisfaction at her astonishment was clear.

  Then he began to slowly move. She gripped his shoulders, riding the earthquake with a wonderment that quickly melted to elation. Suddenly she was an elemental force, part of a vortex winding tighter and tighter. The movements increased in speed and force, and then she was responding with equal strength, a dancer adding her own steps. She cried out, losing control, every nerve dazzled. Suddenly the grove seemed filled with light, but whether it was magic or simply madness, she could not tell. It went on and on, driving her up and over again before Rafe made a final, long thrust and gave himself to her utterly.

  She rolled on top of him, not willing to let him go just yet. His arms folded around her as if she had always belonged just there, her head tucked under his chin, her hair spilling over them like a cloak. She kissed him, tasting the salt on his skin. He was still breathing heavily, the rise and fall of his strong chest making her burn for him all over again. He was warmth and life, precious beyond measure. Lila closed her eyes, willing the moment to last.