Crave The Night by Michele Hauf, Sharon Ashwood, Lori Devoti & Patti O'Shea
Page 8
In the hazy state between satisfaction and the anticipation of more, Rafe closed his eyes, triumph pulsing through his veins like a primitive drum. She was his. Beautiful, troubled, tricky, courageous and his. He kissed the top of her head, drinking in the perfume of her glorious hair.
“When you were a soldier,” she asked softly, “were you ever afraid that you would die?”
Rafe opened his eyes, staring up at the stars. Not the conversation I expected. “Sometimes.”
Her warm weight was here and now, the urgency of desire a breath away. He pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“Rafe.” She wrapped her hand around his. “The vows I made. You need to know the whole of what I promised.”
Her seriousness chilled him. “What?”
“The bargain was that Masterson would give me until sundown tomorrow if I could get them Wolf Creek. Specifically, that I would, with all the secrecy Masterson wanted, find something of equal or greater value to our forest.”
Rafe remained silent, waiting. He was feeling worse and worse about what was coming next. “Yeah?”
She cleared her throat. “That was only part of what I promised that day. I took a blood oath that I would save my people at any cost. The only real way was through the deal with Masterson. That didn’t work out, so now I pay the penalty.”
Rafe waited a heartbeat. “You would save your people at any cost?”
“Or die trying.”
Rafe felt the first of Lila’s hot tears fall against his skin, and suddenly the urgency of her love-making made sense. Fido’s frackin’ balls!
“I failed and the year and a day I had to pull the deal off is almost up. By this time tomorrow,” she said shakily. “I’m going to be dead.”
Rafe tensed with outraged surprise. Lila laid her fingertips over his mouth. “Don’t say anything. There’s nothing anyone can say. I did this to myself.”
Now wide awake, Rafe pulled her hand away, lacing his fingers through hers. “You’re a hazard. In future, I’m going to pack you in bubble wrap before I let you out the front door.”
She choked a laugh that wasn’t a laugh.
His words sounded calm and confident, but his mind was flattened like a bug on a windshield. What the hell? He felt like he was falling, his stomach dropping down an endless cliff side. He settled his arms closer around Lila, feeling her soft breath on his skin. For all her appearance of calm, he could feel her heart fluttering like a bird’s.
“Hush,” he whispered, stroking her hair.
None of this made any sense to him. Fey logic was upside-down and backward, no more direct than a bowl of spaghetti. For a moment he hated their convoluted rules, their secrecy, and the unpredictable magic that had driven Lila to this pass. Then Rafe took a deep breath, mentally taking a step back.
Understanding the noodle-logic didn’t matter, because he wasn’t fey. He was a plain old wolf, with a different task in front of him. She needed a practical solution. He was good at those.
Rafe pulled Lila to his chest. “What exactly were the words of this vow again? That you would find something of equal value to the forest?”
“Or die trying.”
Rafe pushed her gently aside. “Get dressed.”
She sat up, her eyes huge. “Why?”
“If the oath depends on Masterson agreeing to the deal, then we need him present to unmake the oath, right? We have to find him.”
“Unless he gets what he wants, he’ll never let me go.”
“He’ll get what he deserves.”
Rafe had barely zipped up his jeans when heard what sounded like rustling wingbeats. He craned his neck, looking past the treetops at the dark sky. Friend? Enemy? As the sound grew a notch louder, he recognized the leathery flap of the gargoyles. “I think your sisters are here.”
He could use their help, but at the same time he hated to end the time alone with Lila. Well, if he had his way, there would be plenty of quality time in their future. Not if, when.
Lila responded by pulling her dress over her head. “My sisters were supposed to be in the forest, protecting their homes. This is folly.”
Her voice was panicked. Rafe put his arm around her shoulders. They stood side-by-side, Lila pressing into his side, and staring into the night sky. The stars were blotted out by a dark, ragged shape that grew larger and weirder-looking the closer it got. The wingbeats amplified into a racket of flapping.
Two gargoyles, dangling the furious form of Masterson between them. Rafe’s chest swelled with hope. Great minds think alike. When the hideous creatures flapped in for a landing, they dropped the red-faced man to the ground. He landed with a grunt and a thump that made Rafe wince.
“What are you doing here?” Lila cried. “What’s he doing here?”
The gargoyles blurred, their shapes dissolving into a halo of white light. Rafe blinked and when his vision cleared, he saw in their place two women in long white dresses. One had her hair done in an elaborate wreath of braids. The other had hers cut short, framing a face filled with mischief. Both were almost as beautiful as Lila.
Almost. They didn’t strike him dumb with their beauty as Lila had. Rafe cast a quick glance at the woman nestled against his side. Lila had blinded him to anyone else.
The one with the braided hair spoke. “My sister, you didn’t think we would simply abandon you?”
“We agreed.”
“You agreed. We thought he needed the opportunity to release you from the last of your oath.” She cast Masterson an acidic look.
Rafe couldn’t stifle a grin.
Masterson raised his head. He looked windblown and frightened, but Rafe saw his jaw set in defiance. To a man like that, fear was weakness, and there was no way he’d appear weak.
Masterson glared at Lila. “I’m not releasing you from anything. You’re the one who couldn’t deliver.”
“You didn’t tell me you already had a history with Pack Devries,” she shot back.
“Not material.”
Lila shifted from foot to foot, clearly nervous. “My year and a day isn’t up. You moved your equipment in too soon. You broke your word.”
“Like you were going to accomplish anything in the next twenty-four hours.” Masterson folded his arms.
The short-haired sister spoke, and her voice was dangerous. “Your desire for our land is going to kill our people, and it’s going to kill her. We have played this game in a way that kept wild magic on a leash, but you make us desperate.”
Masterson gave a slow shrug. “Go have another granola bar.”
A moment of stunned silence blanketed the scene.
The fey blinked as if there wasn’t a place in their imagination for such rudeness. Rafe opened his mouth to speak, but never had the chance.
Lila slugged Masterson. Even without fey strength, it would have been a sound shot. As it was, the man went over backward with a cartoonish thud. Leaves and fallen pine needles flew up as he landed, startling a bird from the underbrush. The man grunted with pain, massaging his jaw.
“Nice,” Rafe said. “Good form. Economy of movement. A definite eight.”
Lila cradled her hand, massaging the knuckles. “That felt fabulous.”
Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last. Masterson got to his feet unsteadily. He looked around, his belligerent expression only highlighted by the angry red mark where Lila had punched him. “You are so fired, Wilding. And I’m suing the rest of you.”
Dumbass. The man was either terminally stupid or suicidal. Anger choked Rafe, cutting off his air. He cleared his throat. “My name is Rafe Devries. My father is the Alpha of Pack Devries.”
Masterson occupied himself with dusting off his clothes. “So?”
Rafe felt an urge to tear out the man’s throat, finish the episode wolf-style. But killing the man wouldn’t help Lila, so Rafe fought down the impulse. Now was the time to get practical. Lila’s mention of old fairy tales—and how often humans failed to read the fine print—
had reminded him there was more than one way to look at a fair exchange.
“You had a bargain with Lila Wilding, and I’m seeing it through to a successful conclusion.”
“Oh?” said Masterson, now sounding curious.
“Rafe!” Lila mouthed in a horrified whisper. “What . . .?”
He held up a finger, signaling patience. “You require a trade of something of equal or greater worth to Gilden Woods.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll tell you what Gilden Woods are worth. They’re valuable for the shelter they give, for the scent of pine and the beauty of the sun dappling the forest glades, for the sound of the bird song and the peace they give an open heart.”
Masterson scowled. “Why the hell should I care about that?”
Rafe went on, not missing a beat. “I will, on behalf of the wolves, offer Masterson Corporation the ecstasy of running through the wide open fields of Wolf Creek. The scent of new hay and warm cattle. The beauty of the frost sparkling on the gate post in winter, and the laughter of our children. We offer you the enjoyment of these freely. Come and partake of them whenever you please. I’d say that was a fair exchange.”
The three fey bowed ceremonially.
“The exchange is heard and witnessed,” said Rosemund. “Let the deal be fulfilled.”
“Heard and witnessed,” said the other sister, nodding her head gravely.
Rafe heard Lila gasp, and he grabbed her as she sagged against him. He smelled the telltale burnt-toast scent of magic. Something was happening.
Masterson breathed heavily, as if he’d run the hundred miles from the woods rather than taken the gargoyle express. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Did you specify cash value?” Rafe demanded. “Were you precise in your definition of worth?”
“No, he did not,” said Lila slowly, her eyes bright as she straightened and regained her feet. “So the offer is a valid one. You think like a dark fey, werewolf. I wonder if I should be afraid.”
Her sisters laughed, utterly delighted, and wrapped Lila in their arms.
“That’s cheating!” Masterson roared, sounding like a child robbed of his lunch money.
Rafe gripped the man’s shoulder, not hurting him but making the possibility a tangible thing. “Not unless we took something you had a right to. You don’t have a right to the oil under Wolf Creek, or to the trees of Gilden Wood. Those woods are parkland. If I hear you’ve taken so much as a pine cone, I’ll make it my personal mission to remind you wolves don’t mess around with vows and bargains. When we say ‘no,’ that’s our final answer.”
Masterson released a volley of expletives and wrenched himself out of Rafe’s grip. “This doesn’t end here, wolf.”
But his eyes held the acknowledgement of defeat. Rafe held his gaze a long moment, silently forcing him to accept that Rafe had won and he had lost and that Lila was free.
Masterson looked away first.
“I’m afraid it does end here,” Rosemund said with a smile that reminded Rafe more of Darak than the Tooth Fairy. The other sister—Rafe had heard Lila call her Arabelle—had already resumed her gargoyle shape.
“Are you taking him back to his media event?” Rafe asked dryly.
“I wouldn’t have him miss that for the world,” Rosemund replied. “I’m astonished by the speed human communications travel. It seems word has already spread to a nest of vampires in Florida who have a bone to pick with Mr. Masterson. They are most eager to speak with him about another past real estate deal once his time in front of the cameras is done. Of course, the fey of Gilden Wood are pleased to supply transportation.”
The man groaned. The fey laughed in a way that made Rafe glad he was on their side. In another moment, two gargoyles were flapping away, Masterson in tow.
Alone again, at last.
“So.” He turned to Lila, cupping her face in his hands. “I guess there’s no need to die anytime soon.”
His words were light, but he felt solemn. They’d escaped disaster by a whisker. He kissed her gently, hoping it would blossom into more very soon.
She was crying, moonlit tears silvering her cheeks. A fine trembling had taken her, the aftermath of shock and fear and relief. “You stormed into my house, Rafe Devries, a wolf bent on defeating me. You could not best me with fang or claw, but your kind and clever heart has made me surrender. Do with me what you will.”
Rafe allowed himself a lazy smile. “I just see you for who you are, and I like what I see, my belle dame sans merci.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. She was anything but the merciless siren of the poem. She was a champion. A woman. His lover. “You can’t hide from a wolf.”
“Why not?” she laughed, her green eyes filled with the light of happiness, and the beginnings of a mischievous twinkle.
“We’re not afraid of pickle forks.”
Her joy turned to profound bewilderment. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rafe grinned. It was nice to be the one sowing confusion for a change. “I think we might have a future, Lila Wilding.”
###
One Soul To Share
Lori Devoti
Chapter One, One Soul To Share
The bar was dirtier and darker than any dive Nolan Moore had ever entered, even on a dare. Smoke clouded the air, shrouding the bar's patrons and decor, but Nolan could smell the humans, each and every one, and hear them...hear the beat of each of their hearts and the whoosh of every breath as it exited their lungs.
His nostrils flared, and his hands fisted. He didn't want to know that the man on his right, drinking beer from a chipped glass mug, had a heart valve that was close to failing. He didn't want to know that the woman that man was standing close to had slept with someone other than the man, only hours earlier.
But, damn, his vampire senses, he did.
The man with the damaged valve moved his hand to the woman's ass and whispered in her ear. She giggled and rubbed against him.
Nolan, teeth grinding together, turned away and stalked deeper into the stink, heat and sound until he wanted to spin in circles and growl, become the monster his family already thought he'd become.
"Stranger." A man standing behind the bar, a short grizzled type with weathered skin and battered features, laid a revolver onto the wooden bar in front of Nolan. On the back of the man's hand was a tattoo of an eye—the evil eye. Nolan glanced at it, unimpressed.
His fingers curling around the gun's butt, the bartender asked, "What or who are you looking for?"
Straight to business, which suited Nolan fine. The sooner he was out of the stifling stench of the bar the better.
"I need a guide, one that knows the sea. I heard this was the place to come."
The bartender's index finger twitched, less than a millimeter of movement, but the vampire didn’t miss the nervous tick.
The man replied, "You're feet from the docks. Lots know the sea here. Some place in particular you're looking to find?"
"The hag." Not a place, but a person...or being. Nolan wasn't sure what the sea hag was, and he didn't care. His only concern was that the stories were true and she had what he needed.
The bartender’s fingers closed tighter around the gun's butt. "You have business with her?"
"I wouldn't need a guide to find her if I didn't." Nolan leaned closer, meeting the man's gaze.
The wall behind the bar was covered with objects Nolan recognized as attempts to ward off evil. But considering they'd done nothing to stop him from entering the place, the effort was wasted.
"There's...someone who might help." The man raised one bushy brow and slid his hand forward.
Nolan dropped two bills onto the man's palm and waited.
The bartender slid his fingers over the bills, apparently checking their validity, then slipped them into his pocket.
"Talk to the mermaid. She's been coming in for months. Rumor has it she's planning a visit to the hag herself and looking for a companion."
"Not a name. It's her...breed."
"Breed?" Surely the bartender didn't believe whoever this female was that she was truly a mermaid. Mermaids were myths like dragons and Pegasus and...Nolan flicked his tongue over one canine...vampires.
He growled. "Where can I find her?"
"She was in the back earlier. Sitting alone. Can't miss her." The bartender straightened his arms, ready to push himself away from the bar, but then apparently thought better of it. He reached out and grabbed Nolan by the arm. His fingers digging into Nolan's bicep, he whispered, "You ain't the first one what went with her. She takes 'em to the docks and they never come back."
Nolan stared down at the man's fingers. The bartender loosened his hold and stepped back as if burned, but Nolan wasn't done with him. He leaned over the bar. "She's taken others to the hag?" He hadn't heard of anyone successfully making it to wherever the sea hag called home, or if they had, they'd never returned to share their stories.
The bartender shook his head, his eyes wide now and worried. "Don't think so. They weren't gone that long. She's like the rest of her kind, but with legs. She lures men out to the water and pulls them under...from there...?" His voice dropped. "There's no coming back."
Sarina Neri crossed her legs at the ankle and stared toward the front of the bar. Someone new had entered, someone different from the worn-out men who usually stumbled into the place. Maybe, finally, her search was over. Maybe, finally, she would find a man capable of passing the sea hag's tests.
He was talking with the bartender and, Sarina could tell, hearing tales of her dangers. The superstitious man's gossip didn't worry her.
No man could resist the lure of a nixie, if she turned her attention his way.