Seducing Beauty

by Skhye Moncrief

  "Dammit, Raven!" he snarled.

  Hopefully, the tourniquet worked and his stump had stopped bleeding. Must be. If he'd bled out, he wouldn't be shouting curses. That's the Parker way. Not my uncle's. And since I don't see anymore idiots moving, I'd better check on Thomas's injury.

  The windmill managed a squeak.

  Probably warning me to check the tourniquet since part of my uncle's still had flown skyward and clipped the windmill like a flying blade. I pivoted over Thomas' bloodied blue jeans and brown cowboy boots, sidestepped to his left, tucked both pistols into the holsters at my hips, knelt, and studied the almost clean slash that severed his forearm about two inches shy of his elbow.

  "Look's bad," he muttered without moving the limb.

  More like grim. And the arm's got to hurt. He doesn't deserve to hurt after saving me from the auction block when my parents died. He'd brought me out here into The Wild. He'd given a ten-year-old girl with nothing but breeding or prostitution for a future a safe home to finish growing. To learn all of his tricks with engines and electronics. To have a fighting chance for a something…And the raw meat of his wound might look bad but won't be the death of him. Killing a man who people journeyed across Territories to trade with isn't easy. He's got everything here. So many things that my mind still boggles after thirteen years of wandering through the thick of it all. Add that Thomas was born with the hardiest stubborn gene I'd ever seen in a Normal and his pleas for a quick death made no sense.

  "Do it, Raven."

  What? I slid my gaze up the bloodied faded blue sleeve that had also been sliced when a Parker had reached the moonshine still and sent shrapnel flying with a second hellacious explosion, sliding my gaze onward up to my uncle's cleanly-shaven squared jaw, to his firmly-set straight-lipped grimace, stopping at his commanding blue gaze. "Do what?"

  "The bullet."

  How I'll get him to swallow the antibiotics is my next bloody battle. Where's a Parker when a girl needs something to shoot? So, I'll just ignore the man. Get him up to the house. Inject him with some morphine. Try to pour tea with antibiotics down his throat without drowning him while he slept off the pain meds.

  "I don't like that look in your eye," he said.

  Must be the distant look of a woman on a mission. "Well, get used to it. I'm in charge now." I scooted over to thrust an arm behind his back and the hard wooden planking of the barn wall.

  "Oh you are?" he patronized.

  Without leaning forward to help me. "Come on, Thomas. Lean." I avoided the unyielding stare I knew he had anchored on me and shoved at his unyielding muscled shoulder. "Only Parkers die today." I sucked in a deep breath and heaved.

  He snorted and shoved the healthy weight of a well-fed Normal, one who never missed a meal and moved heavy equipment, backward to pin my palm against the barn's smooth wood. "You're still a kid. I've lived sixty long years out here. Don't tell me what to do."

  The pressure from his body gave against my knuckles.

  He leaned forward.

  It's about time he decided I needed him to survive. Alone out here, I'd attract every useless good-for-nothing male within a month's ride. I'd probably become a legend. Well, until I learn what fate has planned for me. And something tells me, I don't want to know.

  "Hello-o, Raven," the familiar voice of Keagan Parker called from behind me.

  Every hair on my body stood on end.

  "One-hundred and thirty-five degrees," Thomas muttered the man's location for me to turn and fire.

  But what did Keagan want now? Why call me out?

  "Kick the shotgun to me while you turn and face him," Thomas mumbled.

  The black barrel laid on the other side of his body. There's no way I could nonchalantly pull that off. And even if I could, would Thomas hit anything with the spray of fire other than me?

  "Come on, Raven. I promise to take good care of you myself," Keagan practically droned.

  Right. I looked deep into Thomas' brown eyes.

  Eyes staring back with a most determined command. Eyes filled with fear. Time to move. I shoved up from the hot hard earth, twisting, pulling both pistols into the silent air, and searched the torn gateway for the tall lanky bastard's brown leather duster.

  Gone. Where in the hell did he go?

  "Shit," Thomas hissed.

  My uncle's uncharacteristic cursing still makes me wish I could hide in the root cellar.

  "Don't move," the other Parker voice I could identify in pitch-black darkness and a howling wind warned behind me.

  Keagan is the charmer. Rowdy is Keagan's snake. Sneaky. Deadly. Probably has a weapon trained on me.

  "Rifle," Thomas mumbled the answer.

  "Don't make me finish the job, old man," Rowdy growled.

  I'd already killed half of them. There's no way they'd keep me alive longer than to rape me. And they're going to kill Thomas. We've got one chance. Kill the snake. And I'm the sharp shooter. I spun.

  A weapon boomed.

  Something punched me in the shoulder.

  Hard.

  "No," Thomas howled.

  I couldn't breathe. Froze. Stood there with the sharpest pain stabbing through one side of my upper back.

  My heart frantically pumped like it could push the pain away.

  All I could do was stare at the twisted sheet metal of gate where it curled around the base of the log wall surrounding our little piece of heaven in The Wilderness.

  "You Gods-damned sons-of-bitches," Thomas snarled.

  The blue sky and dark wall swayed in an eerie dance, then everything went black.

  Something hard and flat hit me.

  Flat. Stable. The ground. God I'm tired. And it's so quiet here.

  An ungodly roar ripped me away into the darkness.

  ****

  The old tinker finally calmed down enough to explain what had transpired before we arrived to send the Normals running with their tails between their legs. The Parkers tried to kill Thomas and kidnap his niece. Admitting I'd had similar thoughts about the sinuous curves of her limp tranquilized form when I first saw her might be unsettling for the injured man though. So, I just stood back in his lodge's shadows and let Buck do the talking. Grant it, I'm the alpha here. But Buck had a relationship with these Normals. And that would be just more reason for Thomas to trust us. Long enough for the beautiful woman to burn off the tranquilizer and come out for Wolf to make his presence known. I leaned my shoulder blades back into the biting beautifully-planed wood of the log cabin's interior wall and watched Stag ladle out a portion of whatever waited in the hearth's large pot at the other end of the equally large main room of the Tinker's home filled with things most Normals didn't possess.

  Gadgets. Dinner plates covered in a variety of patterns displayed on a wall like fine art I'd seen back East. An enormous mirror with an intricately-carved wooden frame reflected light across the room above the Tinker's graying brown head of hair. A green bicycle rigged for grinding grain still had an almost-pristine coat of paint where it sat pushed back into the corner of a room. The enormous room's mismatched collection of upholstered furniture is another sign of wealth. Anything cushioned, even this hodgepodge of wooden-legged chairs with armrests, still remains a pretty popular item nobody could afford to keep on hand in The Wild because of transporting costs. People only transported things they needed to survive. Comfortable furniture took up far too much space when it came down to hauling necessities like food, clothes, medicine, pots, and tools. And bio-fuel is so hard to come by that nobody wastes using it on frivolous items. This has to be the wealthiest Normal male west of the Mississippi. So damned rich he carved a fortress out of the wilderness and lived like a warlord with nothing but a niece to help him rule his roost.

  My youngest brother, Stag, turned back to the pallet Thomas conveniently kept on a far wall and headed for the seated man.

  "Just eat now." Buck patted Thomas' shoulder and rose. "Get your strength back so Raven won't worry when she wakes up."

&nbs
p; "My strength?" Thomas scoffed with his unusual formal English. "I need to grow an arm, son."

  Buck chuckled politely and casually leaned a shoulder against the wall at the end of the Normal's bed, facing the man. "You're the only Normal I know who calls me son."

  Thomas arched a gray shaggy eyebrow at my other brother. "You know as well as I that you're almost genetically identical to me. Just because the other Normals are morons doesn't mean I'll fancy myself inferior to those of us who are fortunate enough to be able to take care of themselves without weapons and thick protective walls."

  A bit of a challenge lay cleverly embedded in that declaration. Maybe it lurked to feel us out. To see what we really have planned.

  Buck smacked his lips and shot me a what-do-I-say glance.

  Even though we Guardians wore our standard military camouflage pants and shaved our heads to prove we Shifters are the more civilized of the humans on Earth, something told me touching that comment would set off all sorts of trouble. I slid my gaze across the floor's wooden planking and back to the large fireplace's flagstone masonry surround.

  All fashioned from perfectly-matched pleasant pale stone.

  Hours. She'd been out for hours. Well, it's probably best she wasn't in the way while I cleaned up and sutured Thomas' stump. But if she'd just wake up now, I could decide if that's Wolf's woman.

  Mine, Wolf yapped deep inside my chest.

  "So you were up on Elk Ridge when you heard the initial explosion?" Thomas asked with a touch of enthusiasm.

  "Yes," Buck replied, "hunting."

  The sound of a spoon scraping the bottom of a bowl noted the old Normal decided to eat.

  "I didn't know Shifters hunted in packs."

  "Sometimes," Buck said.

  "Hmm," Thomas hummed thoughtfully as if he had a mouthful of food. "You get bored up at the outpost?"

  Smart man.

  Buck and Stag chuckled.

  "You've done far too much for me today for me to ask anything else of you. But I must beg a favor," Thomas added.

  A little too carefully. I turned to the man who conspiratorially eyed my brothers.

  "I need you to take Raven back East. My cousin lives out in Old Atlanta. A woman. She's quite wealthy and can look after Raven until Raven finds a place for herself."

  Mine, Wolf whined.

  Not happening. The tinker can sit there and beg all he wants. And even if my sire orders me to do it, Raven's not heading back East.

  Buck sucked in a deep breath and studied the old Normal's crossed brown hiking boots where his heels were propped atop an upholstered footrest. "Do you think Raven will agree to leave?"

  Thomas snorted and didn't bother shooting Buck a dismissive glance while he scraped the spoon across the base of his dish again. "I'm in charge. She'll do what she's told." He tucked a mounded spoonful of food into his mouth and chewed.

  Like the motion would make his words gold. Force the female to do his bidding.

  Buck smoothed the neatly-trimmed golden circle beard around his mouth with a finger and thumb. "You know Raven is old enough to make her own choices, Thomas."

  The fingering of his beard noted Buck tried to think of the right way to say what's on his mind. But our sire learned early on to just let Buck say what haunted him or there would be no peace until Buck blurted those thoughts. Even with Thomas who obviously meant what he said. With the glint in the old man's eyes, this standoff will definitely be priceless.

  "She's never told me anything good about city life she enjoyed, Thomas," Buck said. "I don't think she'll want to go."

  The old man's eyes pinched into slits. He turned that venomous gaze to Buck and chewed the food in his mouth.

  Buck threw up a placating palm. "It just seemed like something that needed to be said."

  That point didn't lessen the intensity in which Thomas eyed Buck. I choked down a chuckle.

  Something slammed into a wall with a loud thump.

  We all flinched, scanning the end of the cabin where the sound died.

  The door to Raven's room flew open and clapped against the wall, only to catch Raven's wide-eyed dusty form splattered with dried blood as it crashed against the thumping wood in the same dirty blue jeans and black short-sleeved t-shirt she wore the first time I'd seen her.

  "Raven?" Thomas almost gasped but blurted.

  Her wild blue gaze caught hold of him, and she shoved free of the door with a swagger.

  Still burning off the tranquilizer. That slim lithe form had fewer cells to work off the drug than a larger male.

  Mine, Wolf hummed.

  Oh. Yes. We're on the same page.

  She practically dove onto her knees at her uncle's side and smashed a palm against his forehead.

  The wall caught Thomas's head though. "Raven," he scolded, "I'm alright."

  "Shirt," she commanded.

  He sighed. "Raven."

  She snatched at his shirt's placket of buttons.

  "Come now, Raven. These Shifters stitched me up. Everything's fine now."

  "I'll be the judge of that." Her elbows sawed wildly, setting the long black braid furiously swinging down the midline of her back, until she peeled the sleeve off his amputated arm.

  "He was pretty lucky," Buck said.

  Her profile snapped to my brother who wisely shrank back an inch from her gaze.

  "You call losing an arm lucky?" she challenged.

  "Sorry," Buck countered. "I meant it was a clean cut." He pointed my direction. "Colt trained with a doctor for a few years. He took care of the wound."

  She flicked a glance my direction, turning most of her large eyes and full lips into my view.

  Unable to see much of me though. Maybe that's good. She's so upset at the moment that I don't want her deciding I'm good for nothing before she had the chance to put a face to my name.

  Mine, Wolf snapped.

  Yeah. Shut up before you look as stupid as Buck.

  She turned back to the old man and studied what remained of his arm.

  Undoubtedly looking for signs of gangrene. We didn't have penicillin on us when we arrived though. So, all we can do is keep watching for red lines shooting up his arm.

  "Okay, now settle down," Thomas cooed at the top of her head.

  She shoved off the floor, her sturdy legs beneath her, and plowed straight into a wall.

  Well, she looked as if she couldn't control her body. But her fingers poked a specific spot where two walls met. A hum kicked in. Like a motor flicked on. Then one wall began sliding open. I suppose a tinker would have secret walls. Tinkers are the closest things to Shifters among Normals. And Shifters have secret walls.

  Raven grabbed the edge of the gliding wall and yanked.

  This one really needs some help. Especially since the wall isn't giving at a rate she finds satisfactory.

  "Patience, Raven," Thomas droned.

  She ignored him, shoving the edge of the sliding door in an attempt to open it faster, forcing her body through the widening crack.

  Now, she's not that slim.

  But she wedged herself into the space and vanished.

  Yellow light flashed in the opening.

  "Well, there will be no peace until I'm sufficiently medicated," Thomas sighed and looked like he'd twiddle both thumbs if he had two hands to manage the gesture.

  His bewildered mask didn't bother making eye contact with any of us. He just stared straight across the room like a defeated man.

  A flutter of light preceded the doorway spitting out the beauty with a small bottle in hand. Again, she ignored us to retrieve a tin cup filled with water and to stand beside her uncle, fumbling with the bottle until satisfied with the medication she held in her palm. "Open," she commanded.

  His gaze rolled to her with the cock of his head. "Seriously, my dear, must you be so cold?" He extended a palm.

  "Open."

  He sighed and tilted his head like a gaping bass.

  She poked something into that dark maw.
r />   And by her uncle's disgusted expression, I wouldn't have been foolish to risk thrusting my fingers into that tooth-rimmed trap. But this beauty was determined.

  She handed him the cup. "Drink every drop."

  They must have been through this routine countless times. He's a pill dodger. She's the enforcer. Luckily for him, they had pill forms of medication. Now, those are about as expensive as one little sexy female with curves a man could tuck up against his side and curl around for a long night sleep.

  Thomas reluctantly took the cup and gulped down five ear-popping drinks, dropped the hand holding the cup to his knee, and met her gaze. "Down the hatch. Satisfied?"

  She reached and waited.

  He sighed, handing over the cup.

  Interesting standoff.

  She thrust the cup at Stag but didn't grace him with a glance. "More water, please."

  Stag had the wherewithal to follow instructions. But he's always had the sense to do so being located so low down the familial totem pole.

  Thomas reached toward his head.

  "No touching your face," she barked.

  His hand stilled mid-air, then dropped. The old man's mouth finally turned down at the corners. He shot her a sideways scowl. "I swallowed the pill, Nurse Helga."

  She snorted. "You lost a lot of blood too. So a few more cups of water won't kill you."

  Thomas finally eyed each of us with determination. "See why I'm sending her back East?"

  "The only person going anywhere is you--to bed." Her body never flinched.

  Never receded from what she perceived as truth. She'd win. And Wolf and I would cheer her on.

  "I don't feel like sleeping."

  She thrust another cup of water at him.

  Silently.

  He didn't risk another comment and drank two more loud gulps of liquid. With a sarcastic sigh, he lowered the cup to his thigh again. "Now, you go pack your things," he said with slow measured threatening words. "Whatever you want. I don't care what you take. But you're going back East."

  She snaked her arms across her chest.

  Right beneath the sweetest bulging breasts I think I'd ever chanced upon.