“Take me. I want you too! I want you inside me.” Sonja’s head lolled as he suckled her peak, yet again. Her words surprised him as well as aroused him. Ty was as hard as a rock and his skin burned with the need to bury himself deep inside her heat. Gently, he lowered her to the ground and shoved at the voluminous skirts until he found her. She wore no drawers and Ty’s cock thrummed with a wild need. He almost lost control.
Sonja reached out and took his hide pants, unlacing the leather and tugging them from his hips. She gasped when his erection stood from his loins. “I knew you’d be big,” she told him as he lowered himself between her thighs. Moaning his name, Sonja took his head and shoved it into her chest. The need for her drove him to suckle and nip at her breast. He pushed back and stared into her eyes. “I want to taste you. Will you let me?” Her eyes clouded. His confidence grew with knowledge he would have her in ways few dreamt about. Trailing hot, wet kisses lower to the thatch of gold curls at her core, the assault began in earnest as the she moaned with his tongue inside her. Soon she bucked and shoved him down. Her fingers digging into his back until the pain mingled with the pleasure sent ripples of need surging to his manhood. Rising to rub at her mound after the flash of an orgasm and she screamed his name, Ty breathed her in. Over the length of her silky white skin, their eyes met m. She was lost in a sensuous gaze as he rose up and took her mouth in a savage kiss. His and only his, no one else’s. Branded and claimed, Ty buried himself inside her. Pent up pressure built quickly and the release was so sweet as he let go filling her with his seed.
Sonja’s head fell back as she cried out. There was no one to hear. They existed in a world unto themselves.
Sonja’s eyes tracked him as Ty laid his body next to hers. “Le petit.” She smiled. “The small death,” she purred. “Your gift to me.”
Ty’s finger traced the angle of her face while basking in the aftermath of their lovemaking. The color in her cheeks rose. So beautiful, she was. “You’ve not experienced a culmination of your lover’s touch?” he asked tenderly.
“No,” Sonja shook her head gently. “Robert cared not for a woman’s needs,” she told him.
Pulling her closer, Ty’s mouth found hers. The kiss sealed their bond with tenderness and promise of more to come. Married to a man who considered women there for his own comforts, she’d not been given the opportunity to share in a truly companionable relationship. Her husband had been much the same as others. Their comforts were the only ones, which mattered. The women in their lives were there for their use and convenience – nothing more. With his head next to hers, Ty stared into her eyes once more. She was a gift cherished. Being with her like this was all he’d ever dreamed of.
Sometime later, when she lay in the cradle of his arm and the time they’d spent together was nothing more than a memory, Ty vowed he would make sure she didn’t soon forget what they meant to each other.
***
He had no right to plague her about her meeting with Perkins. He certainly hadn’t been of any use. Glancing at his profile astride the doe colored mare, Sonja wasn’t ready to forgive Ty. He paid little attention to her after another quarrel over the same topic. They left Pennsylvania in silence. Sonja reminded herself she wanted things to remain so. No way she’d allow him the knowledge she’d been hurt by his reaction. No way.
“Briann, you’ve said little since we left town. Are you sorry you came with us?”
“No, I’m not sorry. A little sad to have grown up and lived in the same place for so long and now to be driven away by Perkins and his vultures. Where are we headed?” Laying a hand on the boys’ weary heads, she smiled when her children yawned openly.
“South.” Sonja peered up ahead at the wagons they’d procured for the journey. The Confederate soldiers now wore civilian clothing thanks to Hortence and her spells. South sounded like a far-away place and the idea made Sonja nervous. Her hands wanted to shake. She gripped the reins tighter. The road up ahead wound around bends and up hills before spilling into another valley with new growth greening more readily the farther they went. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” The words came unbidden.
Sonja didn’t give them time to linger before she smiled for her younger sister. The woman was beautiful with her long waves of coppery fire. The boys resembled their mom and Sonja secretly hoped they always would. A smattering of bright freckles dusted their noses and pert, pink lips formed perfect bows in their cherub faces. Love swelled in her chest. Her family – in all their innocence - what was left of them was precious to her. She tried not to think of what she would do if anything happened to them.
Briann quieted again. Sonja wanted to give her sister some comfort, some support. However, the danger they all faced remained a grave deterrent. She slapped the reins over the horse’s rump and steered the team to follow the wagon ahead of theirs.
The men secured several wagons to help with the refugees who couldn’t walk properly. Sonja drove one, while Smitty and Connors drove the other two.
“Sonja, if anything should happen to me, will you see to the boys?”
The pain of her sister’s statement weighed heavy on her chest. “Don’t talk like that, please. We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you or the boys, I promise.”
Her sister’s beautiful green eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “Don’t promise things you can’t deliver, sis.”
“You don’t think I can protect you?”
“It’s not that. I know you’d do everything you could to see us safely out of harm’s way. Fate may have other ideas. That’s all.”
They rode side by side for a long time without saying anything.
Truth sometimes had a way of crippling one’s notions of their abilities. Sonja would speak to Hortence and the Guardian about Briann’s visions. Surely, her sister was mistaken about her abilities. She was her sister whom she loved more than life itself. If she had to give up her gift to save her sister, she’d gladly do it.
“How are you ladies doing?” The voice was deep and laced with real concern.
Sonja recognized General Stewart without seeing who rode the magnificent black stallion coming up behind them. Admiring the silken mane as the animal came along side, she considered the horse may be as undead as the rider.
With her head tilted back, Briann shared a warm smile with the general. “We’re fine,” she said.
The youngest boy groaned before glancing at the horse. “Ride, momma, ride.” His small finger pointing up toward the general on his horse.
Briann didn’t pause and Sonja found herself beaming with pride for her sibling. She allowed the general to grip the boy under his arms after she hoisted him high, allowing Stewart to settle him in place in front of him in the saddle.
“You’ve made a new friend,” Sonja observed.
The youngster found the reins the best thing to play with and Stewart smiled quietly. “He reminds me of my own.”
A sharp realization hit her square in the chest. The general had a family. Well – had a family. How would he ever go back to them now? “I’m sorry.” Her lips thinned over the image in her mind’s eye. No wonder he wanted to help them. The bastards had stolen so much more from him than just his life. She stared straight ahead, unable to meet his eyes as he rode beside the wagon.
“Please, Mrs. Brooks. Don’t concern yourself over the past. As a career officer, I’ve long ago resolved myself that someday I would face what so many have faced before me.”
Candor of such a degree pained her in several waves. Releasing a breath, Sonja rubbed at her arms. A cool wisp of air suddenly enveloped her. “Yours is not uncommon, still, I regret your plight.” Her own plight seemed paltry in the face of such loss. “You’re in my prayers, General.”
His stony eyes held no emotion as he spoke. “I’m beyond prayers, ma’am, but I would appreciate those prayers for my wife and children. They will need all the prayers now.” Tipping his cavalry hat to them both, his tone warmed as he assured Briann, “Don’t worry. I’ll take
good care of him.” He spurred the great steed, galloping toward the front of the line of slow moving men.
As he rode off, the dust cloud erupting behind his mount. Tiny squeals of excited laughter floated back to them on the gentle breeze.
“Poor man.” Briann’s voice laced with sympathy.
The Guardian spoke from behind them. “He grieves for his life. Were it in my power, I would set him free from the hell the monsters sentenced him to endure.”Tapping his horse lightly with his quip, the Guardian stared straight ahead at the general’s shrinking image. His gentleman’s face wreathed in concern bore a true measure of the group’s plight. Each member of the small band of refugees was dealing with the upheaval of their world. Some for obvious reasons and others for something imagined only in horror stories.
Sonja glanced askance at the Guardian. The only sounds between them, the light squeak of the wagon wheels as the gentle sway of the rolling boxes lurched forward with the mule teams’ efforts.
The weight of all their woes seemed insurmountable. Wanting desperately to change the subject, Sonja asked, “Are we really headed to Texas?”
“To Texas?” The Guardian searched the trees flanking the roadside. As his eyes narrowed in the dimming light, his attention returned to Sonja. “Yes, as you already know, the lieutenant has a ranch there where these men will be safe. Your change can occur without witness and little danger will come to you or others.”
He spoke of the fact she’d became a werewolf at the onset of each full moon like she changed clothes, without the notion of repercussions or reprisal. “Will I ever be able to view this as a good thing?” Her question was one she considered often, but hadn’t spoke of before. Uneasy with her own insecurity, she dropped her gaze from his. One of the mules balked. She slapped the animal across the backside with her whip.
In the guise of a man, the Guardian appeared so normal, he could have passed as a gentleman of distingue. No one would have guessed he was overly grotesque, a hairy monster with bleary eyes and slobbering jowls. “In time you’ll shimmer from human to werewolf without consideration or concern. Yes, the change will be as natural as breath. Still I cannot offer relief with a shift in temper.”
Briann gathered her sister’s slender hand in hers and squeezed. “The way of things isn’t for us to know. You’ll see what he means in time, dear.”
She spoke as if an expert. Yet, frustration filled Sonja. The old witch spoke in nothing but riddles and vague references. She could ill afford her own sister doing the same. Unable to fault Briann, she supposed her sister couldn’t help it. After all, the gift of reading a person’s thoughts came with drawbacks as well as advantages. Tugging at her shawl as the night air began to set in, Sonja recalled the many nights her sister would cry herself to sleep with the pain of being an outcast in a world of cruel, small-minded fools. Briann’s gift was a battering ram for their taunts. Being different wasn’t easy for most to understand and the girls had weathered many a hard time at the hands of those around them. It was probably the reason she considered herself a loner.
“My wish for you is that you are able to acquire the skills necessary to utilize your gift to the best of your ability.” Briann gave Sonja a quick sisterly hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
Startled, Sonja simply stilled for a moment. The Guardian steered the older of Briann’s children out of her direct path. “You’re kidding, right? I could be a killer. The facts still aren’t clear as to what I do when I go into the werewolf.”
Briann snared her hand once more and gave her sister a tug. “Don’t be silly. You couldn’t hurt a fly. However, vampire is a different story.” She released Sonja and hugged her arms about her chest. “Wouldn’t it be grand if you were destined as a slayer in werewolf form?”
Sonja huffed out a laugh before she could stop the sound. “That’s ridiculous. Werewolves don’t set out to hunt vampires. Lore has werewolves hunted by vampires. I dare say we should be on the lookout for vampires lurking in the dark shadows.” She glanced from one side of the road to the other. Within the dismal gloom beneath the heavy foliage, the demons waited with baited breath. “What do they wait for?”
The sound behind her wasn’t audible except those with the sensitivity she possessed. Lightning fast, she whirled to find Hortence, the witch seated in the covered wagon.
“Don’t concern yourself over the wooded glade or the swamps, my pet,” the old witch crooned. “You’ll have a reprieve from those monsters as long as there’s powers left in me.” A wrinkled smile creased her ancient face.
For once, Sonja breathed a sigh of relief. The old hag had been with her from the start and despite her coming and going on a whim, her tactless nature, and speaking in riddles, she’d proved invaluable as a friend and tutor in the magic arts of warfare.
So they traveled by the dim light of the sun dappled trail farther and farther away from the vampires lair.
Chapter 5
Challenges
The rain didn’t show any sign of letting up as the water came down in buckets. Running in great, rushing rivers under the wagons pulled hurriedly together in a haphazard semi-circle, the rain cut deep grooves in an already weathered landscape.
Darkness had fallen, the only light being a few forgotten lanterns hanging from hooks on the sides of a couple of the buckboards, which had quickly huddled together in the unexpected downpour. The rest of the world loomed around them in pitch black.
Ty peered down the line of wagons forming the train from under the protection of his well-worn but ever-present Stetson. The rain pelted his body in increasingly wind-blown sheets. If not for the black oil-skinned slicker covering him from his neck to the tips of his boots, he’d be drenched.
Moving with purpose, Ty sloshed through the torrent of water toward the object of his attention.
The petite form of Sonja tugging on a mule’s reigns. So far, she’d managed to exert enough pressure on the determined beast as to corral it not a whit.
“You’re gonna lose a finger wrapping the line like that.” He snapped the words out with more irritation than he’d intended as he approached her.
Sonja’s slim frame jerked and her blonde head snapped up with the force of his words.
Ty’s heart skidded to a halt.
Beneath the water-logged bonnet, the slight creature wore as protection against the storm, a set of the most beautiful eyes Ty’d ever seen stared back at him in the meager light of a forgotten lantern. Alarm and surprise registered in their depths making the amber glow almost topaz in the lamp light. His heart stopped as she blinked at his words. Probably scared her witless, you fool.
A distinct tremor shadowed her movements as she stepped sideways in defense of his curt observation. Something started to coil inside Ty’s gut. She had no business out here attempting to tie the team down in the downpour. If she’d allowed him to travel with her in the same wagon, this wouldn’t be happening. The rain fell in earnest now as if in agreement with his statement. He’d liked to have been done with the job and inside the safety of the cook wagon before things went this far, but such wasn’t the case. Shoving the concern to the back of his conscious, Ty took the line from her and deftly maneuvered the balking mule to the tie-out line alongside the others in the team. He didn’t see the point of arguing with her tonight.
“Are you hurt?” Ty glanced back at Sonja standing ankle deep in water.
“No.” She lifted her chin a fraction. “I could have managed fine.”
She had the most amazing eyes Ty’d ever seen. Even in the meager light, they seemed to glow with a fiery heat as if from the depths of her soul. Ty touched his fingers to the brim of his hat and spoke over the rain. “I’ve no doubt you could’ve, but the storm’s setting in good and proper now. I was simply trying to help.” A grin teased his mouth when she gave him a stubborn thrust of her delicate chin. Inclining his head toward her wagon where one thin flicker of light shown from a lone lantern inside the back entrance, he suggested sternly, “Best
be gettin’ back inside now, before you catch your death.”
A mixture of calculated temper and resignation warred behind those tawny eyes. He wouldn’t be off in assuming she weighed the options of berating him further for believing her incapable of taking care of herself and gratitude for the assistance. Lucky for him, common sense won out.
With something akin to a nod, she wheeled, moving smooth as a cat to the wagon’s ladder.
Agilely shimming up the wooden rails, she presented Ty with a pleasant view of her trim backside.
She disappeared behind the oil-slicked cover without as much as a civil ‘thank you’.
Ty paused with two fingers to the brim of his Stetson. “Good night, ma’am.” Since there wasn’t a soul to hear, he adjusted his Stetson and turned smoothly, coat tails flapping as he trudged toward his own shelter out of the storm. Hopefully, Smitty would have saved him something from supper.
***
Smitty McCready, long-time friend, Ty’s sergeant, and one hell of a cook waited on him. With a flip of the tarp, he extended his hand for Ty. “I heard ya coming. The mess is settin’ in good.”
Ty allowed Smitty to help hoist him over the wagon’s side.
“You brought this one with ya, that's for sure. That’s the truth of that there, Boyo?” The land of Ireland sounded heavy in the jib.
Flinging his wet coat on a nearby peg, Ty rubbed his cold hands together and hoped for some feeling in his numb fingers. Pointedly ignoring his friend’s good-natured poke, Ty removed his hat and hung it alongside the slicker. “Got anything to eat?”
“Got some stew I saved for ya. You’d be wantin’ some now, I’d wager. It’s a bad one, this storm.”
Ty nodded as he yanked off one soggy boot and then the other. “She’s a bad one.” He accepted the tin plate Smitty handed him and couldn’t help the grimace. “Followed me six or seven miles before barreling in and dumping a deluge on me this side of Sutter’s pass.” Ty shook water from his black hair before spooning up a mouthful of Smitty’s stew. “We should get six to eight inches out of her easy,” he said between mouthfuls. “The bridge at Collier’s bluff is out.” Shaking his head in disgust, Ty glanced up at Smitty. “That’ll delay us by at least two days. There’s signs of Indian activity in the same direction. I thought I’d never get back.”
Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) Page 7
