Of Flame and Promise

by Cecy Robson

  Her red nails matched her pouty lips. She ran them along Aric’s arm, but didn’t get far. He sidestepped from her reach. His voice? Now, that was far from enticing. “I’m not going to ban the woman who is both a valued member of our Alliance and the mate of my second-in-command.”

  I peered around Gem and motioned to Aric. “You forgot sister-in-law,” I said, looking directly at Barbara. “He did claim my sister, after all.”

  Oh, and didn’t I know how to bring the room to a grinding halt? Well, we all had our gifts. Barbara whirled on Aric, fast enough to whip her long blond hair behind her. “Is that true?”

  Aric met her with equal force. “I told you, any discussion about Celia is off limits.”

  Barbara’s scowl eased, replaced by a flicker of malice that caused both me and Gem to separate and edge closer to Aric. Her hand struck like a cobra, her nails clenching Aric’s jaw so tight, droplets of blood trickled down her fingers. Gem lurched forward, growling, his response and Barbara’s vindictiveness sparking my magic with fury. Aric lifted his hand, keeping us in place.

  It was as if we weren’t there, Barbara so intent on whatever asinine point she was trying to make that she kept her back to us. “It doesn’t matter who was part of your past,” she spat. “Like it or not, I’m the only future you’ll know.”

  Two fingers. That was all Aric used to break Barbara’s hold. He clamped them down on her wrist and removed her hand so forcibly, her nails peeled his skin away in chunks, leaving grisly lines that punctured deep into his skin.

  Aric didn’t growl. He didn’t flinch. But that wolf was all rage. “I know my duties,” he told her. “And I know my obligations. Don’t think you’ll ever be more to me than that.”

  He released her then. Barbara, while clearly stunned by his demonstration of force, clung to her wickedness and spite, refusing to let it go. She smiled with all the warmth of a gator. “My, what impressive strength you have, my love. Do you think our babies will inherit it?” Her smile widened as he straightened. “I can’t wait to find out.”

  I’d seen a lot of carnage. But their interaction was hard to hear, to watch, and to take. Cruel. Barbara was simply cruel.

  She walked away then, satisfied with the damaged she’d inflicted with her nails and her words, her hips swinging in that too tight dress. It was all I could do not to zap her for being so nasty.

  Aric remained still as granite, lost in his thoughts, and hopelessly fated to be with someone with a soul cold enough to chill the Arctic. Blood dripped from his chin as his inner wolf sealed the goddamn holes on his face. This was the woman he’d left my sweet sister for, and the one he’d eventually breed with.

  My voice quivered as I spoke. “I’ll meet your parents.”

  “What?” Gem asked. He was so focused on Aric, and on keeping his wolf from going after Barbara, that he didn’t register my words.

  I faced him then. “I said I’ll meet your parents.”

  He lifted my hand, but his expression remained solemn. “What changed your mind?” he asked.

  “Celia did,” I admitted. I squeezed his hand and glanced at Aric. “She said she’d give anything to have what we share.”

  Aric met my eyes with an expression so pained it stung me down to my toes. “So would I,” he muttered.

  He stormed out of the room then. In the opposite direction Barbara had disappeared.

  Chapter 6

  I glanced at the clock. “What’s keeping her? Should I call her again?”

  “Dude, relax. If Ceel said she was coming, she’ll be here.”

  I whipped around to tell Shayna to try her again, only to get sprayed in the face with perfume. “Oops. Sorry, T,” she said.

  I coughed and gagged, and would have glared had it not been for the perfume burning its way through my sclerae and into my skull. I swore when I slammed my nose into the doorframe in my haste to reach the bathroom and rinse my eyes.

  Emme clasped my elbow, leading me forward. “Here. Over here.”

  I nodded, turning myself over to Emme’s gentle hold.

  “Son of a bitch.” I tripped over the small lip in the threshold, stumbled to my knees, and landed on something sharp. I rolled onto my side, agony ripping through me, only to have something poke me in the ass.

  “Oh,” Emme said when I yelped. “Don’t worry, honey. I can fix that.”

  “Holy sharp stilettos, Batman,” Shayna said from somewhere behind me. “You know, you shouldn’t leave your shoes lying around like that.”

  “Get away from me before I kill you!” I screamed.

  “Ah, maybe you should give Taran some space,” Emme suggested, albeit from a good distance away.

  I rose on my throbbing knees with my hands outstretched, trying to find my sink. Tears streamed down my face and snot poured out of my battered nose. Emme clasped my waist, angling my body, and positioning me against the sink. That was good. Until she blasted the cold water and drenched my bra and exposed skin. I jumped back from the frigid temperature and stumbled over my shoes—again, landing on my ass, again. For all the moaning Shayna did about leaving my shoes lying around, do you think Cheerleader Barbie picked them up?

  I smacked the hands away that were trying to help me up. “Don’t touch me.” My fire sizzled when either Emme or Shayna refused to let go. “I said don’t touch me!”

  I still couldn’t see thanks to the acid burn from the perfume. I rose slowly, and blindly made my way back to the sink. With every swear word I knew, I adjusted the water to less-than-freezing temps. I splashed my face repeatedly until the sizzle cooking my eyes lessened enough for me to see. I blinked back at my reflection. The hair I’d spent an hour straightening was ruined, clinging to my neck in wet clumps. Black lines cut across my face from the remains of the eye shadow, liner, and mascara I’d painstakingly applied. Snot continued to drip down my face and my nose was competing with the bright red swelling ringing my eyes. The eyes won.

  Emme offered me a towel. I lifted it from her grasp and wiped my raw face. “Thanks—”

  “Oh, wait, I think that one’s dirty.”

  I slowly lowered it. She was right. I now had leftover whiskers from Gemini’s goatee trim scattered across my face. It was all I could do not to beat my little sister to death.

  Celia walked in then, her smile fading when she caught a good look at me. “Um. How’s it going?”

  “My tits are soaked and I resemble Bozo the scary and hairy clown. How do you think it’s going?” I snapped.

  She moved toward me, tripping over my shoes and snapping the heel off one of the pair I’d planned to wear. “Oh, sorry. You know you shouldn’t leave those on the floor—”

  “I know that!” I slumped over the sink and covered my face.

  “Taran’s having a rough few minutes,” Emme explained.

  Celia sighed and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Let Emme heal you. Jump in the shower, and let’s start over.” She looked to the ceiling when I belted out six swear words in a row. “Taran, Gemini’s parents won’t be here for another four hours. There’s plenty of time to fix—well, everything.”

  My stinging eyes took in the mess on the floor and the mess that was me. I don’t cry much. Things really have to be bad for me to shed more than a tear. But I wanted to then.

  “I was going to make them dinner.” I swallowed hard, trying not to lose it. “But I was worried I wouldn’t have enough time to get ready.” My body trembled with cold. I pushed back my wet hair, ready to cry for real. “I printed out all these recipes—food and appetizers they might like. How am I going to get everything done? It took me an hour and a half just to get ready.”

  Celia angled her chin. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “I just wanted to do something nice for them,” I admitted. And I wanted them to like me. If not for me, for their son.

  “Where are the recipes?” Celia asked.

  I reached for a towel just to wrap myself with. “They’re on the counter. By the co
ffee machine.”

  “We’ll get started on them,” she said. “Let Emme heal you. Get a shower and we’ll take care of the rest. It’s going to be fine, Taran.”

  I wasn’t so sure. “Did you bring the dress?”

  She smiled. “I did.” I watched her disappear and return with a garment bag. She unzipped the bag, pulling out a long and elegant Asian-style dress. The blue satin, embossed with silver flowers, was the perfect color to compliment my eyes and skin.

  I walked to her slowly, barely believing how stunning this dress was, as Emme and Shayna gushed over it. “Oh, my God,” I whispered.

  Celia laughed. “I know! It’s one of a kind and exactly what you need to make a memorable first impression.”

  I lifted the bottom of the dress, examining it carefully. “Celia, how did you—? I mean, this is just, just…awesome.”

  She laughed again. “Misha’s name goes a long way. It arrived from Tokyo this morning from a designer he likely fed from. I sent her that picture you emailed me, told her your likes and dislikes, gave her your measurements, and she came up with this.”

  I threw my arms around her, believing for the first time that maybe she was right. Maybe I’d make a good impression after all….

  —

  I took my time getting ready and did my best to relax. Although I’d planned to help in the kitchen, everything was done by the time I stepped out.

  My sisters rushed over. “Taran, you look beautiful,” Emme said.

  “No she doesn’t, she looks hot,” Shayna said, with a smack to my ass.

  I hugged Celia when she smiled softly. Although I didn’t want to get all girly, it was hard then. She, like Emme and Shayna, knew how important this day was for me. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I…just thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Taran,” she said quietly.

  I let out a breath when I pulled away, trying not to lose it again. “How much do I owe you for the dress?”

  “Nothing.”

  I frowned. “Come on, Ceel. I can’t let you pay for this.”

  “Consider it a gift,” she said, motioning to Emme and Shayna. “From all of us.”

  So much for not getting girly. I hugged them tight when they gathered around me. More than once I’d wondered what I’d do without them. God willing, I would never find out. “Thank you,” I told them, my voice cracking as I struggled not to cry.

  “It’s going to be okay, Taran,” Emme said.

  “You’ve got this, T,” Shayna agreed.

  I hope so. I released them carefully and walked into the kitchen, snagging the apron draped over the counter. “What needs to be done?”

  “Nothing, we got you covered, T—oh, except for the fried tofu with peanuts. It will need to bake for a few minutes and then be topped with sprouts and the sauce.”

  “You can put it in while you’re adding the shrimp to the baked toast,” Celia added.

  I was almost too stunned to speak. “Wow. You girls totally went above and beyond—” My head jerked when I remembered something. “I forgot the sake.”

  “What?” Emme asked.

  I untied my apron and tossed it aside. “Gem mentioned how his father and mother enjoy this particular and rare kind of sake. It’s expensive and hard to find, but I called a spirits shop in South Tahoe and the owner hooked me up. He ordered it from an upscale restaurant in Japan and had it shipped to his store.” For the almost three-grand price tag and an additional handling fee, I didn’t add. “It’s at his shop. I meant to pick it up yesterday when I hit the grocery store, but I forgot.”

  Shayna skipped (because that’s how girlfriend rolls) to the coat closet. “Here. I’ll go. Come on, Emme.”

  “No. That’s okay.” It wasn’t that I wouldn’t trust those two with my life—because I would. I just wouldn’t trust them with my sake. After their “help” in my room, I was worried they’d drop the bottle. “You’ve already done enough.”

  “It’s really not a problem,” Emme said. “We’re happy to help.”

  There was that word again. I spoke through a tight smile. “Really, it’s okay. I got it.”

  Ceel tried to suppress her grin, likely scenting my lack of faith in our girls just then. “Taran probably needs a distraction to help her relax. Why don’t we stay and tidy up so she’ll be all set when Gem’s folks arrive?”

  Celia’s reasoning was the something shiny they needed. I grabbed my keys and off I went.

  Little did I know I was in for a lot more than I’d bargained for.

  Chapter 7

  Bastard ghetto liquor store.

  It was bad enough it was on the shoddier side of South Tahoe. But then the owner had to behave like a little prick. He placed the dark glass bottle in front me like some grand prize and smiled. “You’re in for quite a treat, beautiful,” he said. “This is a rare find—”

  “Save it for someone who’ll believe your crap.”

  He loomed over me, using the full bulk of his three-hundred-pound-plus body to try to intimidate me. Have I mentioned I don’t intimidate easily? “What did you say to me?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I stutter?” I jutted my chin and glared back at him. “I said you’re full of crap, and so was your mother.” I pointed at the bottle. “That’s some cheap knockoff that goes for fifty bucks at any store. My sake—the one I’ve paid close to three grand for—and the one you swore you’d have for me—doesn’t look anything like this. So give me what I came for before you really piss me off, dickhead.”

  “And what happens if I piss you off?”

  It was then that I sensed it, and my vision sharpened. This shop owner wasn’t human. He was something else.

  Well, so was I.

  I flung a finger out, sending a bolt of lightning to strike the closest bottle of vodka. It exploded in a wash of blue and white. “That,” I told the stupefied idiot.

  He flung himself over the counter with a fire extinguisher. I leaned on the counter and drummed my carefully manicured nails. He growled over his shoulder. “What are you?”

  I stopped drumming and straightened. “I’m the mistress of flame and light, the goddess of lightning, and the princess of fire. In other words, asshole, the woman who’ll burn your store to ash if you don’t give me my sake!”

  For all he snarled and bared his teeth, he stood still. “The hell?” he said.

  I thought he meant me, but his full attention was toward the open door behind the counter leading to a storage area. Cases of beer and booze were stacked along the back wall. The room didn’t seem large, but I couldn’t guess its size from where I stood.

  I thought he meant to distract me so he could attack, until something stirred from within the dark room. The were—I’m guessing that’s what he was—stilled, and paled.

  I inched back slightly, trying to keep an eye on both him and whatever lurked in the darkness. “What was that?” I asked.

  Flap. Flap.

  No…not that. Not now.

  “What is that?” I asked, this time a little louder.

  “Nothing good,” he muttered.

  I pushed away from the counter, that eerie sensation I’d felt one too many times slapping my skin like a cold ocean wave. The were carefully lowered the extinguisher. I thought he’d crouch low and stalk forward, poised to attack—like any other self-respecting guardian of the earth.

  Instead he took a cautious step back, then another, and headed for the exit.

  For a supposedly lethal predator, this guy was total chicken shit. “Nothing good?” I repeated, dumbstruck he was leaving. He nodded, but that was about it, edging further away from me. “Wait—where you going? Start howling and call your pack—”

  Something with wings shot through the open door, quickly followed by another something. I dove to the floor in time to see a demon child the size of a raccoon latch on to the were’s face and begin to feast—as in eat his face…three seconds before a smaller version landed between my outstretched legs and hissed.

&nbs
p; “Holy God!”

  There was no grace to my reaction, no strategy.

  Screw grace and strategy, I wanted to live, damnit.

  Blue and white flames fired from my fingertips, igniting a wing. The little freak flew off with a screech, spiraling in circles as he attempted to fly with one wing. He crashed into a Budweiser display, lighting the cardboard cutout of a model with a giant grin on her face.

  I scrambled to my feet, keeping my back against the wall, my eyes darting in all directions and my heart thumping hard against my chest. With a nausea-inducing rip, the were tore the famished demon from his face, severing a huge lump of his skin in the process.

  The creature landed before me, greedily swallowing the remains of what resembled a nose. The were fell back screaming, a fountain of blood spurting through his hands. But I didn’t care about the shop owner. Not then. The demon child in front of me had my full attention.

  I zapped it with a mini lightning bolt, and another, and another, and—crap—another after that. He skipped away from each blast, stopping to stare at the singe marks I’d left only to flicker his forked tongue…no, make that flicker his tongues my way. The little turd had three of them because clearly, he wasn’t creepy enough with one.

  “You won’t touch me,” I told him through clenched teeth.

  He laughed, his tongues slapping and sliding through a row of bloody fangs and his balls swinging in the breeze like Christmas bells. He crouched on his hind legs, his reptilian tail flicking excitedly and a hunger lighting his beady red eyes. I lashed out, firing white and blue light as fast as I could. He leapt away from every strike, appearing to enjoy my mounting terror and baiting me into exhaustion.

  Jesus. The best way to describe this thing was as an erect cat skinned of its fur. Strange markings ran along his belly and dwarf limbs. He wasn’t as large as the ones that had taken my sisters, but these things caused chills to puncture my heart—not just because of what they looked like, but because of what they were. Demon children were bred from demon lords and very unwilling human women.