Siofra's Song: Book 1 The Broadus Supernatural Society Series

by Hewitt, Theresa Marguerite

  “Why didn’t you tell me it picked up, Trey?” She hollers at him.

  Sheepishly smirking, “Cuz you were on break!” He nods his head to the first booth by the jukebox and Siofra spots her oldest brother, Conall and Jace all sitting there. She uncaps two Budweiser’s and pours a glass of Diet Coke with a wedge of lemon, and heads towards the table. Her brother spots her first.

  “Fry,” he smiles, standing and taking her in a one arm hug. “Jace and Conall were telling me about last night, I’m so proud of you sissy.” He plops back down accepting the glass she offers him.

  “Thanks Junior, yeah it was a great night,” she winks at Conall while setting the bottles in front of him and Jace. “Did they tell you everything?”

  “Oh about the hunt and you joining the Pack, which, by the way, will make dad so happy. Oh yeah, and Conall said you guys have bonded.” Elbowing her in the hip, he causes her to blush. “Don’t blush sissy,” he lowers his voice “it’s a great thing. It doesn’t happen to everyone. You should feel lucky! Now, sit.” He scoots farther into the seat and points to the newly emptied seat.

  “Let me put your food order in, check on the other tables, and then I’ll come back.” Taking her pen and pad out of her apron, she turns to the other two men. “Jace, Conall; the usual?” They nod, so she moves on. “Marcus you want a burger an’ onion rings?” He nods in agreement as well. “Alright then, I’ll be back in a few.”

  She tries to keep her nerves in check, but in the back of her mind she can’t stop thinking about the email she read only minutes before. She zones out as a local orders and she has to apologize and ask him to repeat himself, which he does with a huff. ‘He just can’t be alive,’ she keeps thinking to herself, worrying her bottom lip till it’s raw, as she pours some beers.

  After handing off her orders to the cook, Marco, she starts helping Trey at the bar till her food is up. Mixing two Long Island iced teas and uncapping handfuls of Bud and Coors while giggling with customers, she finally has a second to breathe when Trey bumps her arm.

  “So word gets around girl,” he whispers while looking at her sheepishly and scuffing his foot up against the back of the bar, “and I hear that you’ve bonded with Conall?” She can sense the unease and disappointment rolling off of him. She can’t help but reach out and stroke his arm, knowing he had a little sweet spot for her.

  “Yeah, Trey, I should have told you, I’m sorry.” she gives him a half smile. “I hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings or anything, you’re still my go-to guy friend, like always.” Giving him what she hoped to be a believable full hearted smile.

  “Yeah, I just thought with such good news, it would’ve rolled off your tongue first thing this morning.” He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders, giving her that likable half-hug.

  She leans into his shoulder, “Aw shucks buddy,” she jokes.

  A loud growl comes from the corner of the room and Trey quickly releases his hold, ducking into the kitchen and leaving her confused and frazzled. Siofra follows the sound to the booth where Conall is sitting; his eyes blazing green and locked onto her. She’s really not in the mood to deal with an angry, possessive macho male wolf right now; she flips him the bird and gets back to tending the bar and her other tables; specifically ignoring the one with Conall, her brother and Jace.

  Marco calls for her, signaling her orders are up, and as she’s loading them on a big tray to deliver, Trey re-emerges. “You don’t have to bow to him like that Trey,” she says and out of the corner of her eye she can see him shrug. Slipping the last basket onto the tray, she hoists it up onto her shoulder.

  “It’s just the way things are, Fry,” Trey meekly answers and she scoffs in response; swinging the bar door vertical then stepping out from behind it. Serving the other three tables, she finally sets the baskets down in front of her brother and two friends.

  “No other man should put their hands on you, Siofra,” Conall grinds out behind clenched teeth. She can feel the anger and turmoil boiling off of him and it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, as goose-bumps fill her body. Looking around the table trying to get Conall’s hot stare from her face, she glances over to Jace. He just nods his head at her and digs into his burger, not being any help at all.

  “Really Conall? It’s Trey; he’s my friend, if he wants to give me a reassuring hug, he can.” Turning to stomp off, she’s halted by a hand around her wrist that pulls her back to the bench.

  Siofra is pulled down into the empty seat next to her brother. He tucks her close, whispering in her ear, “This is how it is for a while sissy. You’ll feel the same way if you see another female put her hands on him, even in the most platonic of ways.” He gives her a nudge, pushing her back to her feet. “Just go easy on the boy, will ya?” He smiles, winks and then shoves some onion rings in his mouth.

  ‘Classy,’ Siofra laughs to herself, snorting lightly and shaking her head at her brother.

  “Whatever, Junior. Anyways, I got a strange email from Francie last night,” she pauses, knowing she has caught his attention when one of his eyebrows rises. She knows he probably figured out what it’s about, and she just gets to the point. “Just tell me you have a team of agents stationed back home in case some shit goes down.”

  “Yeah, there was a team of thirty deployed last week when we got some interesting intel.” He reaches onto the floor, bringing his suitcase to his lap he opens it and hands Siofra a file folder. “Take a look at those Fry and tell me what you see; but first, I think you’re gonna wanna sit.”

  She looks at the file in her hand then back at Marcus, an inkling feeling settling in her heart telling her she doesn’t want to open the file. Plopping down next to him again, she hesitates with her fingers just under the sealed flap. Taking a deep breath, she resolves to open the manila folder. She pulls out a bunch of 8x11 photos. Running her gaze over the first few, she doesn’t see anything that catches her attention; just people on a street, some in a park and then some gathered around a car. Then she sees it and can’t hold in the gasp, throwing her hands to her face to shield her eyes.

  “Oh my God, how can this be?” She doesn’t move her hands from her face because she doesn’t want to see the person who ripped her world apart, standing before her, captured in the photo. Marcus rubs her back in circles.

  “I know, I know it was shocking to me too,” he whispers. Taking one of the photos, he looks it over, shaking his head as he sets it down. “Seems as if they played us, sissy. You most of all.”

  “Wait, what is going on?” Conall’s fear and concern washes over Siofra, making her chest tighten and her hands shake even more. Taking the top picture, she slides it over in front of him, pointing at one particular person. She almost feels like if she pokes the picture hard enough, she’ll really hit the bastard who tore her heart out; but she knows that is only a fleeting wish.

  “You see that guy right there?” She watches Conall nod and she continues, “Well, that’s the supposedly dead father of my son. That’s Kyle Bokan; alive and looking well.” Tears flow freely down her cheeks. There’s no more holding them back as her voice hitches.

  “There’s one more thing, sissy,” Marcus pushes his burger aside staring directly into her eyes. Clearing his throat and tugging at his collar, he makes her nervous. “Rumor is they’re coming after you“he pauses and Siofra can feel a wave of anger roll through him, “to get Roan.”

  She doesn’t feel the gasp that rolls out, her breath catching in her throat as her wolf jumps to the forefront, issuing a heart shattering growl that vibrates her entire body as she shakes from fear. They can’t take my baby. I’ll die before they take my Roan. Black spots creep into her vision and all sounds escape her as she tries to get to her feet. She needs to make sure her son is okay and her wolf is fueling her maternal need, whining and pacing.

  “Coming after me, for Roan?” she repeats to herself almost in a whisper. The room spins, but all she can really feel are hands clawing at her arms, trying,
to no avail, to keep her from falling. Her arms meet something cold and her head bounces before everything goes black.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  She’s laying on something soft and warm when she comes to; her head throbbing massively. Slightly opening her eyes she sees that she’s still in the bar, but she’s back on the couch in the office. Sitting up slowly, Siofra rubs the left side of her face. She must have smacked her face off the floor because it feels a little swollen and tender to the touch.

  Groaning and standing hesitantly, she walks over to peer into the mirror on the back of the office door. ‘Ughh,’ she thinks, running her fingers tenderly over the puffed flesh. The left side of her face is a healing bruise, already yellowing due to the fast regeneration of her Werewolf genes. Leaving the office she wanders out to the empty bar.

  A group of Pack members are gathered around a table in the dining room as she comes around the bar. They are talking quietly amongst themselves, but she can feel the tension hanging over the group like smog hangs over Los Angeles.

  “How long have I been out?” Her voice is scratchy and dry. Everyone in the group turns their heads in her direction and Conall hops up from his chair, rushing to her side bathing her wolf in concern.

  “You shouldn’t be standing. Dr. Trapper said you’ll probably have a concussion,” he whispers, rubbing his hand up and down her arm, then her back. She needs his closeness, her wolf needing the reassurance; she wraps her arms around his waist, pulling herself flush along his body while taking in his reassuring scent.

  She feels his arms squeeze her tight, and hears the slight rumble of his possessive growl as it rumbles through his chest; it settles her thoughts. She knows she is safe with him, with the Pack; and she knows they will defend her son as well.

  “Marcus?” She releases Conall and peers around his side to the table of men. Her brother is sitting in front of a computer, his tie loosened around his neck and his shirt sleeves rolled up. The pictures are still strewn out in front of him as she approaches, taking the seat next to him. “What’s our next move?”

  “Well, it’s my move, remember? I’m the one who works for the F.S.C.C.A, right?” Raising his eyebrows he glances over the screen at her defeated form. “I have a team on its way here as we speak. I’ve already talked with your Alpha, Clyde; he is most accommodating. My team will hang with the Pack; especially you, Conall, Jason and Cassie, since you are the ones with the most contact with Roan.”

  All of his bases are covered and Siofra can’t help but give him a small smile. That’s her brother, always prepared and in the instance he isn’t, he’s fast to react.

  He puts his arm around Siofra, pulling her head to his shoulder. “Don’t worry sissy, I promise nothing will happen to my nephew.” Marcus rubs her shoulder and relinquishes his hold on her. “Sean and Duncan have been notified, they are on full alert should you or I call them.” He hands Siofra a piece of paper, his chicken scratch hand writing on one side.

  “That number is the direct line to my superior, Lorenzo Gumbos. If for any reason, you can’t get me by cell, call him, without hesitation.” Siofra just nods and puts the paper in her back pocket. “Is there anyone else you want to contact?” He goes back to his computer screen, typing away without even looking at the keys.

  “Dorthea Petit, mom’s friend from college. She’s the one I was staying with in New Orleans,” wringing her hands together she stands and starts to pace. Conall comes up behind her and holds her back to his front, his heat and closeness calming her nerves. “She will send some of her Pack. They also have other supernaturals that will come. We could use their abilities.”

  Nodding, Marcus glances at her, “As long as they are willing to come on their own accord; she can’t issue an Alpha order. That would screw up the investigation.” Leaning back and stretching his arms out, he closes the laptop and stares directly into her eyes.

  “I have to get to Canada to follow up on some leads about the Bokans coming in from a team just over the border. I’ll Skype with dad later and let him know you’re okay. I’ll be back when my team arrives.” Grabbing his briefcase and jacket, he places a kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be okay, sissy, I promise. Don’t worry yourself sick over it,” hugging her tight, he whispers, “I love you Fry.”

  “Love you too, bro,” the tears well in her eyes. “Be careful… call me.” She holds in the slight sob that wants to sneak out and she sees her brother smile. Nodding in her direction, he heads out the front door of the bar to the waiting black SUV, and then speeds off in the direction of the highway.

  Patting Conall on the arm, she turns to Trey. “Open her back up Trey. No sense in depriving people of their drinks when they need them most.” He nods to her and heads to the door to switch the “Closed” sign to “Open”.

  Spinning on the balls of her feet, then up on her tiptoes, she plants a feverish kiss on Conall’s mouth while running her hands up his arms and entwining them behind his neck. “Take me home,” she whispers.

  “Yes ma’am,” he grins, untying her apron from her waist. “Go out and wait in the Jeep.”

  He heads to the bar, his cell phone in hand, as she watches him; her lips still tingling from their contact. Siofra meanders through the kitchen to the office, grabbing her purse and donning her jacket as if in zombie mode. She slips out the employee door, brushing the snowflakes from her face as they fill the sky sparsely, and slides into the passenger seat of her Jeep. Not even ten minutes later Conall joins her, starting up the Jeep and backing it out onto Wilbur Avenue, turning south.

  “I sent Cassie a text and asked her if she could drop Roan off at your place in about an hour, if that’s ok?” Stealing a glance he sees Siofra nod in agreement. Grabbing her hand, he puts her palm to his lips, “I’ll protect the both of you with my life, Siofra, know that,” he growls, sending ripples all throughout her body, making her shiver with desire for him.

  Leaning and placing a kiss on his cheek she whispers, “I know Connie, just wish it wasn’t like this.” Nuzzling her nose into his neck she takes a deep breath in, reveling in his scent.

  “Right now,” she places her hand on his thigh, squeezing, moving up towards his groin and making him squirm, “I just want you to make love to me.” Nipping his ear, she growls, an ache growing in-between her legs that she knows only he can vanquish. Her wolf whimpers for him, needing him to claim her again and make all of this worry and hurt go away.

  Conall’s hand grasps the hand that she has resting on his leg, and moves it up, pressing it into the growing bulge. A feral growl rolls from his lips as Siofra’s entire body shakes in anticipation. She can’t help but bite her bottom lip as she rubs her hand along the length, knowing it’s not even fully erect and she whines wantonly needing the connection with her mate.

  The normal six minute drive only takes three and a half, ending with Conall slamming the Jeep into park and practically ripping the doors off of that and the house. They make it as far the living room, their lips locked as they strip off jackets, shirts; Conall’s pants are shoved to his knees. They collapse onto the carpet in a rolling mass of desire; both of their wolves growling and whining as they stroke and touch. Tossing her boots, panties, and jeans over by the couch, Siofra knocks Conall onto his back, scooting down to run her tongue from his belly button, tracing the line of his abs, all the way up to his neck, as he growls.

  “Let me do this,” her voice is breathy and dripping with arousal. She runs her hands up his sides, digging her short nails into his flesh, making him gasp lightly. Everywhere their skin touches she feels as if they will combust. Straddling him, she looks down, her breath catching in her throat at the sight. His eyes are ablaze, glowing almost neon green.

  “Your eyes,” she whispers putting her fingertips up to the side of his face, and stroking his skin softly.

  “They’re glowing only for you, Siofra,” he smiles, kissing the palm of her hand and with his other hand he reaches down to the apex of her thighs, finding her sensitive and n
eedy nub and flicking it with his thumb; making her arch her back and moan. He pulls her face down to his, crushing their lips together and swiping his tongue out and over them hungrily. Growling, he positions her perfectly for impalement, “Now show me how I make you feel, love.”

  She doesn’t hesitate. Taking him into her till the hilt, she gasps at the feeling of completeness. Siofra feels whole while they are joined, and she takes advantage of being in control, grinding down on Conall without abandon, sending them both over the top within seconds. Pleasure is still pulsing through her as she slows down a bit and gazes down at him and his glowing eyes. She crashes their lips together again, hoping to show him how he makes her feel and she sighs when he wraps his arms around her.

  Pushing his hips upward, Conall uses the momentum to flip her over onto her back, covering her completely and pinning her to the carpet. She feels the familiar and delicious flow of her orgasm building again, as he rolls his hips; his lips kissing and nipping all the way down to her breasts. She arches up into him as his teeth graze one of her nipples and he smiles into her skin when she moans, swiping his tongue over the teased flesh while looping his arm under one of her slightly shaking legs.

  He kisses the inside of her ankle and gives her a wicked little grin, holding her knee to her chest and rolling his hips; Siofra trying her hardest to keep her eyes open to look at the man she loves but they flutter shut, as a loud moan slips through her lips at the ripples of pleasure he is causing. Sending her into another climax with a few, hard, well-placed strokes, he leans on his forearms to gaze down at her; panting for breath as her wolf whines for more.

  “You’re eyes are glowing, ice-blue, my love,” he whispers, nipping from her ear to the nape of her neck. He growls, “I need to mark you again.” Latching his mouth to the crux of her neck, she can feel his teeth scrapping her skin. A moan escapes and she does the same, tasting the saltiness of the sweat from their activities on his skin.