by J. J. Keller
She pressed her mouth firmly to his, smearing pink over his lovely lips.
Hot. The heat increased, tenfold. Tingles between her legs voyaged upward, flaming her core.
“It’s raining again.” One of his hands cupped her neck and the other slid under her sweater.
She scooted forward, hoping he’d move his hand up to cup her breast. “I guess we’ll steam the windows then.”
“Absolutely.”
****
The symbol of the Bridge Guardians embossed on the birch tree bothered Aidan. Wolf connections. A pack member could always find a blood relative because the stream of genes provided that instant recognition. A family member hadn’t left the message or warning, he hadn’t figured out which yet, so who had?
As Bridge Guardians his pack of supernaturally enhanced wolves possessed wisdom and strength, but this act or warning didn’t seem logical. Logic was important to a shifter guarding an icy bridge to hell and preventing demons from escaping. On occasion, a powerful fiend or team of demons broke through the barrier. Many young wolves lost their lives. Prepared to prevent evil from fleeing, a new wolf member shifted ready to take the post, to guard the door. A gruesome job.
Exodus from the wolf pack wasn’t an option—abandoning the family meant death.
But he had escaped and stayed under the radar for several years. Arrival time, he had to help his brilliant sister escape. Her youthful and delicate sensibilities should prohibit her from becoming a guard. Females unfit for guarding duty were sent to breeding camps. He wouldn’t allow that to happen. With only four months to save her, he’d need to keep his focus.
His family, guardians, patrolled the bridge connecting earth and hell since Lucifer, bringer of light, fell from heaven and flamed the underworld. Breeding was an important part of being Bridge Guardians, because life expectancy of a member of his pack was short. Benevolence was inbred, but sometimes the demon assumed a wolf’s body and—
“Aidan?” Skogul’s panicky voice brought him out of his reflection.
He shook his head, clearing the thoughts of his family, and replaced the glass test tube in the fridge. “Yeah, I’m in the lab.”
“You didn’t hear me knocking.” Dressed in workout gear, her slick pants rustled as she walked forward. “The sheriff called. A dog’s been hit on County Road 300 South.”
“Thanks. Want to go?” He turned off the centrifuge and shut off the lights around his workstation.
“Not this time.” Her hesitant response surprised him. Since they’d returned from the police station, she’d come into a firm sense of confidence. That assurance didn’t waiver, so what caused the hesitancy?
Skogul’s stare bothered him. Christ, could their relationship have been a setup? Meet and greet. Odd, her miraculous memory returned, only after seeing the new guy in town who’d been absent the entire time they searched for her identity? Certainly peculiar. A sudden and heart-breaking thought occurred, had she left the insignia on the tree?
Their closeness remained true, a boundless intimacy. The emblem on the tree ordained a roadmap of his fate. Who tried to warn him?
She leaned against the exam table and grabbed his hand. “I need to practice. Thank you for building an opponent that won’t fall apart at the slightest nudge of the javelin.”
“My pleasure.” Javelin? He got to his feet and reached for his bag. “A stitch kit, antibiotics, sterilizing—”
She pushed away from the steel. “Do you want me to get those things?”
“Thank you. Behind you, in the drawer of the silver rolling unit.” He enjoyed working side by side with her. They made a wonderful team. Despite the questions pestering his mind, he doubted she’d betray him. Someone else left the message. He’d know if Skylar, rather Skogul, shared a similar supernatural DNA. He’d smell her. “Get a number four blade and a suture kit.”
She tugged the drawer open. Clashing silver rang through the space. He appreciated her enthusiasm, but he’d need to rearrange the scalpels later.
He turned to get syringes from the cupboard.
“Ouch.”
He whipped around. Blood dripped from her index finger. Grabbing a wad of gauze, he rushed forward. “Let me see.”
“Just a scratch.” She shoved the drawer shut with her foot. “Stupid!”
He dabbed the wound, then wrapped a piece of gauze around her finger. “I don’t think stitches are needed. I’ll put a couple of butterflies on it.”
“Go, you’re needed elsewhere. I’ll take care of it.”
“It’ll just take a second.” A trickle of glossy scarlet. Just a suggestion of temptation. Rich. Fragrant and luring.
Her blood. A lot of his questions could be answered if he took a sample.
He got bandages from the cabinet and glanced at the fridge. She could be the one spying on him. It’d be easy enough to take a sample and compare. Povidone-iodine and three butterfly bandages. He turned toward her. Her pale face bothered him. “You look a little queasy.”
She closed her eyes. “Blood doesn’t bother me.” She grabbed onto something and staggered. “Except, maybe mine.”
Using his foot, he shoved a stool near. “Sit.”
Within seconds, he had the wound cleaned and bound, and blood drop wedged between two slides. “All done.”
He nudged the slide under a silver tray, got the suture kit from the open drawer, and dropped it in his bag. “I need to go. I’ll help you to the house. Call if the wound doesn’t stop bleeding or you feel faint.”
Aidan threw the packed bag over his shoulder and held onto her arm. Doors locked and alarms set, he offered her support to get to the house. She sat on the sofa with her feet on a pillow. He handed her the remote control. “No javelin practice. At least not until I get back.”
“Yes, doctor. I’ll try to contact Kiara.”
No other member of her group or family, other than Basil, had been mentioned. Except, Kiara. Her true sister? Seconds of remorse for obtaining a sample of her blood rushed through him and quickly subsided. He needed to know and put his mind at ease. He kissed her. “Call me if you need me. I shouldn’t be long.”
****
The dog died, minutes before he got there. Family pets in particular were the most difficult to see pass. Shudders ran through him. Close to canine species, an injury or departure of a dog saddened him. With a heavy heart he stroked the soft fur of the animal, witnessed the anguish in the owner’s eyes, and provided sympathy. The farmer wanted to take his pet, so Aidan climbed into his van and returned home.
Covered with a gray down blanket, Skogul slept on the sofa. Fantastic! He wanted, needed, to evaluate the slide.
He shook off the gloom and concentrated. Part of him hoped the sample matched, so he could confront her, and the other…her betrayal would hurt. He double-checked the slides, comparing Skogul’s blood and the sparkly sample found on the bush. They didn’t match.
Relief flooded him. He exhaled and relaxed his shoulders. Except, Skogul’s DNA had a variation. He withdrew Atlas of Peripheral Blood and when that failed he checked Blood Coagulation, but even Marlar didn’t mention this type of deviation from the normal. Another peek to her genetic material proved one thing.
Her blood wasn’t human.
Damn, he couldn’t rule out shifter.
In the past, he’d encountered demons in disguise trying to determine the secrets of passing over the bridge and into the human realm. A Bridge Guardian never failed to identify a demon within minutes. His heart pounded, and his gut knotted in the pure knowledge.
She wasn’t a demon.
Joy rushed through him. He locked the lab and rushed into the house. She rested on his sofa. Warm, soft-looking, smelling of flowers, he wanted her to be a permanent part of his life.
That hypothesis concluded, he didn’t feel an urgency to discover why her skin shimmered in the sun or get to the root of her phenomenal power. Did love shade his discipline? As a scientist he must question and find the answer.
/> Chapter Twelve
Aidan lifted the corner of the covers and quietly slid from the bed. Skogul, warm and delicious, remained asleep. On the way to the kitchen, he fastened his jeans. He needed to quench his thirst.
His thoughts continued to focus on the emblem and the bit of blood, still indefinable, sitting in his fridge.
Guilt punctured his gut. Had he created a danger for Skogul because he’d left his pack to live among humans? He wanted to help animals and didn’t agree with the leader of the pack. Transferring credits from a University of Guelph had been tiresome and extensive but he’d obtained his veterinary degree. Uncertain where to settle and practice, Doctor Palmer’s call had come, begging him to take over his practice. Regretfully, he had to leave his sister, Hayden, behind.
Aidan pressed a glass to the fridge pass to get water. Adjusted and happy in his new life, he’d failed Hayden. No doubt the emblem on the tree meant she was a hostage. He’d arrange an escape.
“Aidan Hall of pack Bridge?” a lilting feminine voice said. The softness of her demand didn’t detract from her tight jaw.
He inhaled deeply drawing her earthy wild scent into his nostrils. Wolf. He’d conquer this new enemy, an unknown. And if not, perhaps she’d let him discover her genus before the last of his lifeblood slipped away.
He dropped the crystal to the counter top, knocking it on its side. Solid silver knives, tucked in their wooden base, inches from his fingertips, beckoned. In the pretense of swiping water into the sink, he snatched a blade from the rack. He held the weapon behind his back and faced her.
A thin naked woman with licorice hair and ebony eyes, posed at the end of the island counter. Tiny knobbles of hair slowly crept back under her black skin. Beautiful, she shimmered under the low light as she finished transforming from wolf.
She nodded. “Thank you for the compliment.”
Obviously she’d read his thoughts. He wiped his mind free and flicked the knife.
“No need for the pig-sticker. I mean you no harm.”
He inhaled, again, getting a taste of her essence. She tasted like a mix of licorice tarragon and sour citrus. “Get on with it, while I decide how to kill you.”
Could there be others? Outside? He heeded the sounds, inside and out.
No howling, but Skogul was unprotected. He needed to see her and confirm her safety.
“Your woman is unharmed and will remain so, if”—she pointed her chin at the knife—“you abandon thoughts of destruction and cooperate.” Her soft intonation and do-as-I-say attitude prompted him to consider releasing the blade instead of sliding it into her throat. Yet, he had to consider Hayden and Skogul.
The time had come, and he’d give up his life to keep them safe. “How did you find me?”
She chuckled, a deep throaty noise. “The last few days you’ve been a beacon. All joy and”—her focus went to his crotch—“rapture.”
A second later she appeared within a millimeter of him. Her intimidating tactics had no effect. He wrapped his hand around her throat, wanting to close off her breath. “Your message wasn’t clear. Why are you here?”
Her face glowed with joy instead of graying with lack of oxygen. “For you, lover.”
At the endearment he growled. She smiled. The low rumble didn’t intimidate her. She wasn’t from his clan, and they would never become intimate.
She melted from under his hand, hovered near the patio doors. The deep chuckle of hers ruptured again. “Aidan, you are so out of practice. You’d not survive at the gates.”
“How would you know? You’re not from my pack.” Power could be produced like a surge of electricity. It’d been many years since he contemplated drawing a source of energy. He recognized the need, urgency, to harness his past supernatural skill and eliminate this shifter ignited. “Again, why are you here?”
“To offer you the chance to return.” She swayed, like a snake charmer’s reptile unleashed from its container. “Become my mate, and we’ll be the alphas of the pack.”
He sizzled. Tiny sparks came from his fingertips. Not enough. More. By her instant transporting and how quickly her fur recoiled, her command over her abilities impressed him. He needed time to create more energy. Being immersed in this community had relaxed him. He had become lazy and out of practice. “Who sent you?”
Sable. She forced her name into his thoughts. Her sway ended, and thick black strands of hair stopped moving. In preparation for what? The battle? He was ready. First, he had to discover the leader, the frontrunner who initiated this intrusion.
“Who sent you, Sable?”
She sighed, as if to say the whole conversation was tedious. “Your mother. It’s time, Aidan. You’ve had your fun living among the humans and doing good deeds. Now it’s time to return and take your rightful place, protecting mankind.”
Flickers came from his fingertips. Close. In order to subdue her, he had to bring the tiny embers to the full force. Anger spurred charges. He had to get furious. “Why didn’t my father come?”
She crossed her arms at her waist, drawing attention to pert small breasts. Her dark nipples pumped erect due to the chill in the air. A small spark crossed her eyes. She coughed. “He’s passed into the netherworld.”
Pain sliced through his heart. He loved his father. Although he didn’t want to be a part of the Bridge Guardian Pack, his father was old school and followed the dictates of the family, regardless of his own personal desires. He encouraged Aidan to depart and stay hidden. “Of his own accord?”
She lowered her glance. “No. A mighty force came through, with a power unknown to us.”
Rage entered him. His benevolent father, the mightiest of the pack, destroyed by the evil he despised. He’d simultaneously taught Aidan how to fight evil and care for the wounded. People and animals of all species were treated and healed, if he found them. “Was the demon caught?”
She shook her head. “No. Your mother claims your sister has the most instinctive power of the pack, and if you don’t return with me, she will be the one to hunt him.” She touched her fingers to the side of her head, as if remembering. “Only you can save her.”
“My sister will not be sacrificed.” How long had Hayden been at the castle instead of school? He drew his hands up, ready to send her back to Canada in one thrust.
His bolt of fire bounced off the face of the stainless refrigerator, charged through the living area and lit a set of sliding doors, charring the frame. The loud blast vibrated his eardrums as burning ash skittered across the tile. He pivoted to make sure she wasn’t going to attack from behind, but she’d disappeared. Inhaling sulfur, he blew out a breath and drew in another, trying to catch her scent. A fire extinguisher was in the laundry room. He rushed to the room, grabbed the metal container, and released the clip.
Smoke filtered through the air, but the embers had died.
Skogul? The thunderous noise should have brought her from her slumber.
His heart beat at a rapid pace. He ran and flung open the bedroom door.
An empty bed. Her clothes remained on the floor where she’d dropped them. He checked the bathroom. His chest hurt. Hands fisted, he fled the room. Outside. Perhaps she was in the yard. Everything stood in its place, Titan ran along the fence. He ran to the scarecrow hoping to find her practicing. She wasn’t there. He dropped to his knees and clutched the javelin.
“Skogul!” He roared her name into the moonless sky.
Chapter Thirteen
Skogul glanced around her confines, touched the hard surface behind her—cold, sharp almost like cut glass. Weak light, coming from a skylight, outlined the space. She’d been put in a tiny room, about the size of Aidan’s horse trailer. An alcove, a couple of feet away, shimmered. As she sat upright, the pad and cloth beneath her bunched. Wet walls would be glossy.
Where am I?
Despite her clear mind, she couldn’t recall how she arrived in the oddly shaped room. Magic must have been used to transport her into this cold dark place. She
flicked her fingers trying to create a spark of energy to illuminate the space. Nothing. Frak! “Return all of my powers, Göndul!”
“Who is Göndul and what powers would you be needing as a captive?” asked a female voice, so deep and melodic surely she was an entertainer, perhaps a stage singer.
Skogul searched for the location of the person. Near the alcove, a ray of light shone on a shock of white hair. She hadn’t noticed the nook, and at the sound of her voice, Skogul anticipated a youthful person, not a gray hair. Bent over a sketchpad, the tip of her pencil rapidly moved. She wanted, with each passing moment, to see if the person hiding in the shadows was young or old. She’d need to determine if she was also a captive or her guard. Not that it made a difference, she’d still have to take her out in order to escape, but knowing how to attack the woman’s weakness would be helpful.
“Do you wish to be released?” Friendly warmth waved through her voice.
She’d been bound? How? No shackles clanged as she moved her arms. She stood and wobbled. Unsteady, she shuffled her chilled bare feet ten inches apart on the stone floor. Invisible chains. For the first time since her memory had returned, a shiver of fear went through her.
“That would be nice. And maybe some clothes?” She tugged the robe around her.
The cloth dripped. With dew? Odin, she hoped it was condensation. “So I can get out of Aidan’s robe.”
“Aidan?” Her captor walked into the light, a girl, about sixteen years of age. The same age Skogul had been when a Valkyrie squad accepted her. A long opalescent frilly dress didn’t add much to the teen’s coloring. Sketchbook in one hand and the pencil in the other, rigidity progressed from her fingertips until her back was straight as a rod.
With indignation or jealousy? Aidan wouldn’t have such a young amour.
