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Her Alpha Mates: A Shifter Menage Romance (Shifters' Call Book 2)

Page 18

by Maggie Ryan


  “Just a scratch.” My hand absently went to my face, my fingertips gliding over it.

  “Mutants,” she said, muttering a long stream of Greek curses under her breath.

  There were far more important topics to discuss. “How are the others? Where is Xander?”

  Her eyes met mine. Pushing her horn-rimmed glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, she gave me the full account of what had happened during my brief imprisonment.

  “I hid in the gatehouse. I could still catch glimpses of you every now and then when they dragged you toward the trees. I saw them cut you, but I did not hear you cry out. Afterwards when I felt it was safe, I followed them as quickly as I could while staying out of sight. They dumped you into the well, then stood around conversing like they had all the time in the world. That was when Babyface came howling from the woods, teeth bared and gnashing—he looked absolutely terrifying—you would have been proud. He lunged at the biggest one, taking a chunk out of him. Baal and the others ran from the castle, hearing Xander’s howls, and rushed to help. They are all in the woods, now, defeating the devils, I am sure. As soon as the group was out of sight in the forest, I came to you. I knew you would want them together to fight, not here, babying your sorry ass. I can do that all on my own. Now let me take a look at this cut.”

  Her fingertips ran over my face. I could feel the healing tingling of her powerful hands as her fingertip zigzagged along the jagged cut, stitching it together as she spoke. She inspected me closely afterwards. “It is healed; I’m afraid it will scar, but not as bad as your shoulder. I can only heal the black magic; I cannot erase its history.”

  I touched my face. Unlike the ragged tear that I’d suffered when a demon’s scythe had sunk into my flesh in the last battle, ripping through skin, muscles, and tendons, I could feel the cold, clean line of the healed wound. “At this rate, I’m going to look like Frankenstein,” I teased, knowing I could be dead rather than simply scarred. Holding out my wrists, I asked, “Can you clean these up a bit?”

  After another generous string of curses directed at the ones who had damaged me, she got to work. Gently, Margaret took my wrists in her hands. As she brushed her thumbs over the abrasions, I watched as the gashes closed, stopping the ooze of blood. When she was finished, there were only thin white scars left.

  “Too bad humans have such limited vision because these only make you look that much tougher,” Margaret said with a wink.

  Rubbing each of my healed wrists in turn, truly unconcerned with my appearance, I said, “Margaret, I must go to the others and bring them here. I need to lay my eyes on my love. I need to see Cassandra, hold her in my arms. Make sure she is safe. I must go to her, now.”

  Margaret reached over to me, running a hand over my hair with a motherly tenderness she so rarely revealed. Her serene gaze fell over me and when she spoke, her voice was so sure, I felt a glimmer of hope.

  “You must go, and I will send you off in style fit for a king.” I opened my mouth to question the meaning of her statement, but she placed a finger over her mouth, indicating the end of the conversation. With that, she rose to her feet with a groan. “Damn hips. I’m getting old. Too old for this skata. You kids and your crazy drama. Always causing trouble. In my day, you know what we did for fun? What we did to pass the time? Huh? We worked. None of this damn demon-chasing business.”

  “I work plenty, Margaret. You know that.”

  “I know. I only tease. Besides, without all this adventure I’d probably be bored. Though I could have used a few more days with just Alekos around the castle. That boy can play some chess. And eats like a horse. Never met a food he didn’t like, that one.” A smile stretched across her face and she patted me on the back. If I wasn’t mistaken, her eyes glistened with tears. “You two are good boys, Deo. And you did right by Alekos, taking care of him like you did. You worry about Xander, about us all. You are a good man. A good, good man.”

  Her words warming my heart, I stood beside Margaret, her cat rubbing at our legs, looking over the land before us. The sun was setting in the gray sky. The hills surrounding the castle were covered in a foot of powdery new snow.

  Picking up her pet, Margaret stroked his matted fur and Dirtbag began to purr. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Margaret said, “Have you ever ridden a catamount before, Deo?”

  I looked at the cat in her arms. He gave a whiny meow and a lazy glare with his good eye. “You mean this fleabag?”

  Dirtbag hissed, swiping at me in disgust.

  Margaret howled in laughter. “Don’t speak ill of your taxicab, Deo. You are in no shape to shift and the Escalade would take hours.” She placed the cat onto the ground. He sat down on his haunches and gave a huge yawn as if the entire conversation bored him. “He will take you to your princess.”

  Reaching into her pocket, Margaret retrieved a small brown leather collar that had a little silver latch on it, resembling our much larger belts. Bending down, she snapped the collar around Dirtbag’s neck. Moments later, a green cloud rose around the feline. We both took a few steps back from the rising cloud.

  When it dissipated, there stood a mountain lion, the size of a small horse. One of its ears had a large bite taken out of it, there was one large yellow eye, and one closed eye socket. The tail of the lion was nothing but a stump. Its matted fur was bare in patches. And when it yowled, it was the same ear-piercing noise I had grown accustomed to.

  “May I present to you, Sir Dirtbag, the mountain lion,” Margaret pronounced, waving her arms in the air with a flourish.

  He smelled terrible. Giving another howl, he glared at me impatiently.

  Reading my unsure expression and the wrinkling of my nose, Margaret began to chuckle. “What are you waiting for, knight? Climb aboard your trusty steed and go save your princess.” By the time she finished her sentence, Margaret was laughing so hard she was doubled over, slapping her knees.

  Cautiously, I approached the huge cat. Sniffing at me, he lowered his body, allowing me to climb onto his broad back. For some reason, Dirtbag did not quite evoke the same feeling of awe as Draco had in his dragon form. Still, beggars could not be choosers.

  I threw my leg over, grabbing a hold of what fur I could find, and slowly began to seat myself, worried about how much weight the creature could take. When his head turned back and I would swear he rolled his good eye in disgust, I smiled… the move reminding me of a sassy little princess I knew.

  “All right, let’s do this,” I said, settling onto the animal’s back. If it weren’t for the stench, the cat made a quite comfortable ride. “Tell the others to stay in the great hall when they return from battle.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Skata,” Margaret said, shaking her head. “I’ve heard love is blind, but never knew it made you stupid. You need to be able to find her.”

  My stomach sank. I had no idea where Cassandra was. The demons had my black box. I would have to wait until the others returned—however long that took.

  Dipping her hand dipping back into her pocket, Margaret pulled something out, tossing it to me. “Not only do they smell like rotten eggs, they are as dumb as rocks. Those red-eyed idiots dropped this.”

  I looked down at the object I’d caught. It was the black box. Within moments, I knew in which direction Draco had taken our mate. Tucking the device into my pocket, I said, “He took her north, to Maine.” Margaret nodded and took the catamount’s head between her palms. Though no words were spoken, I had absolutely no doubt that she was giving her precious pet instructions. When she nodded and gave the creature a scratch between his ears, I didn’t even have time to thank her before Dirtbag took off through the dense forest. Leaning down, I grabbed a tighter hold of his fur and hoped we would not be too late.

  * * *

  The ride was so smooth I had almost fallen asleep as we raced through the trees. I was jarred wide awake when Dirtbag suddenly came to an abrupt
halt, dumping me off of his back and onto the snow.

  “You can forget about a tip, bud,” I said. Giving a hiss, he didn’t even look back as he slunk off into the woods. Brushing the snow off my ass, I quickly made my way, jogging after him, anxious to find my mate.

  I began to hear the faint sounds of laughter. As I grew closer, I heard Cassandra shout my name and graceful footsteps falling in the forest.

  In no time but what felt like an eternity, I had Cassandra in my arms. Breaking through the woods, she had thrown herself onto my chest. Holding her tightly, I inhaled her scent. Stroking her hair, I murmured, “Cassandra, my love.”

  “Oh, Deo. You are here! We knew you were coming as soon as you contacted Artem through the black box but I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you. Draco sensed you moments before you arrived, but I never thought…” She clung tighter to my chest, her fingers pulling at my shirt. “I can’t believe you are here! I had the worst dream. They—had you.”

  “Who?”

  “The demons.” The tone of her voice had changed. Fear had replaced the almost childlike joy of a second ago and she was wiping tears on my shirt. She had not yet gotten a good look at my face.

  “You dreamt of demons?” I asked, placing a hand behind her head and bringing her face to my chest. I held her so her gaze was not upon me.

  I felt her head gently nodding against me.

  “What did they do to me?”

  Whispering so quietly I almost didn’t hear her, she said, “They had a knife. They… they cut you.”

  Could it be possible? Was Cassandra the prophetess she had been named for? I didn’t want it to be so, but I had to ask. “Where did the knife cut me?”

  Without raising her head, Cassandra reached up toward my face. For the first time, I suddenly felt a bit of fear that my wife would find me… unattractive, no matter how faint Margaret assured me the scar would be.

  “It’s hard to see, but it’s here,” she said, her voice trembling. Beginning at my hairline, she brushed her fingertips over the path the knife had taken, then leaned forward to gently kiss the blemish. “Is it so awful if I admit it’s a little sexy?”

  “Not at all,” I said, relief filling me as I reached out to bring her hand down. She gasped as she took my hands in hers, dropping her gaze to my wrists. Tears again welled in her eyes, spilling over onto her rosy cheeks. “Oh, God, it’s not just one cut. They-they hurt you because of me—”

  “Shh, they are just flesh wounds. Margaret fixed me up as good as new.”

  “No,” she said, her hands going to press against her mouth as any illusion of sexy scars evaporated as she took a step back as if in fear.

  “I promise, I’m fine. I…” I stopped speaking when I realized that she wasn’t discounting Margaret’s skills, she simply wasn’t hearing or seeing me at all. Sure, she was looking at me, but I wasn’t her focus. The prophetess was seeing again.

  “Deo, if I was right. If what I saw happened to you… that means—”

  Her statement trailed off as she refocused her eyes, looking at me, full of sadness.

  Grabbing a hold of her shoulders, I gave her a small shake.

  “What? What does that mean, Cassandra?”

  Her eyes locked on mine, her eyes dark with fear, she said, “There are others—at the castle. I don’t think they are demons… but-but they are just as deadly.”

  * * *

  Dolly and Cassandra had disappeared into the trailer, leaving me to confer with the Ambrosia men.

  “If she has seen it, it is real, Deo.” Artem looked up at me earnestly. “She has the sight.”

  “Do we have any idea who she saw in this vision? Who is at the castle? What we will be up against?”

  Artem shook his head. “Only that they are deadly.”

  I sighed, running my hand through my hair. “I don’t understand all that is happening, but I do know this… whatever this is, it is more than we first believed.”

  “What do you mean?” Draco asked.

  “I mean that the demons could have killed me but didn’t. Why?” Before they could offer their thoughts, I continued. “I don’t understand it, but I heard them taking about the one… how they had to find the woman… destroy her.” I turned from them to look toward the trailer. “Everything in me is screaming that woman is Cassandra. I believe our mate is at the heart of all of this.”

  Artem nodded. “I think you might be right. There is something about her… she’s more than she appears. More than she even believes. We’ve got to keep her safe.”

  “I agree,” I said. “I thought hiding her away would be best, but not anymore. We need to dig deeper. Do more research. Together we can work through this, but we need to get back to the castle. We must ride like the wind.”

  Draco stepped forward, grasping my shoulder. “We won’t let anything happen to our mate. We’ll protect her.”

  The door to the RV opened, and Cassandra stuck her head out. “Can we please come out now or shall we continue to pretend to be busy in here?”

  I chuckled and gestured for her to join us. When my mate came to my side, I slid my arm around her. “Glad to see that you listened to me and obeyed our mate. Asking permission so sweetly.”

  Man, my girl better never wager anything important in a poker game. The moment her face began to turn red, I shook my head. “Don’t tell me, Draco’s belt came off?”

  “No,” she said softly, her cheeks rosy.

  “No?” I asked, my eyebrow lifting before turning my attention to our co-mate. He grinned and shook his head.

  “Nope, but let’s just say that our girl isn’t quite the fan of oil as she thought,” Draco said, his hand reaching out to pat our mate’s ass before grinning and jogging to the RV, disappearing inside.

  “Ah, I’m gathering he’s not talking about massage oil,” I said, giving Cassandra a long look. “We all know how much you love it when we give you a nice slow, head to toe massage. So, what kind of oil was it?”

  “Some concoction your Aunt Margaret put together. It was green, slimy, and stinky,” she said. I chuckled and then gave a grunt as her elbow found my side. “It’s not funny. Do you have any idea how much nettle oil burns when it’s slapped all over your…”

  “Naughty bits?” I provided when she stopped speaking, her cheeks turning even redder. Chuckling again, I pulled her closer. “I’ll only say two things: one, I’ll bet that whatever you did to earn the lesson, you won’t repeat it and two, Margaret isn’t my aunt… she’s our aunt.”

  The slam of the RV door covered her soft groan as we watched Draco returning, a black velvet bundle under one arm. Dolly followed, moving to stand beside her husband.

  Though the talk about oil had me thinking of all sorts of delicious possibilities, I knew I needed to focus on what was truly important. I addressed our group. “The RV is too slow. We will ride as one. Artem, you will transform and run below Draco. Dolly, you are to ride the very cat that I arrived on—none other than Aunt Margaret’s enchanted housecat.”

  “Dirtbag?” Cassandra asked, her eyes going wide. “Seriously? Are you saying the cat is enchanted?”

  “Yes, he shifts into a catamount,” I said.

  “Of course he does,” Cassandra said, rolling her eyes. “He’s an Ambrosia, and he’s male. Lucky little kitty.”

  Having heard my mate’s wish for the ability to shift herself before, I just chuckled and continued to reveal the plan. “Cassandra, you and I will ride the dragon. It is imperative that we stay together should there be any traps. We will need one another.”

  Draco said, “Deo, we have discovered that Cassandra has powers. They may aid us in battle.”

  My eyes cut to my wife, waiting by the fire. “More than the power of sight?”

  “I can—stop things,” she answered hesitantly. “Make objects obey my command.”

  Was this what Artem had meant? Was there even more we still had to learn? I shook my head, unable to process the news with so much on the horizon.
“Let us leave and you can show me at the castle.”

  Dolly bid me goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, then with a wary look over her shoulder at Draco and Cassandra, called, “Y’all be safe. I’ll go find that mangy catamount of Margaret’s. Let’s go, Artem. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you in your wolf form.” The couple jogged off into the woods.

  I took my place beside Cassandra, wrapping my arm tightly around her. “Draco. It is time.”

  “Can you take this?” he asked, handing me the black bundle. “They are Cassie’s daggers. I don’t want to leave them in the RV.”

  Nodding, I took them, tucking the bundle into my waistband at the small of my back, pulling my shirt down over them. I prayed that we wouldn’t need them, but Draco was right. We couldn’t leave them here… not when we didn’t know when we’d come back for the trailer.

  Giving Cassandra’s cheek a kiss, Draco walked fifty paces from us. With his back to us, we could hear the unlatching of his buckle. Within a moment, we heard the click of the latch again and watched as the orange haze rose. The cloud reached its massive, dragon size, deepening to a dark red. It then began to suck into itself.

  The last wisps of the cloud were brushed away by the swish of a giant tail. Draco the dragon stood tall, lean, and ready to ride.

  Wide eyed, Cassandra gasped as if seeing the transformation for the first time. Draco came forward, nuzzling her hand with his great snout. She laughed as she stroked his velvety scales.

  Giving Draco a pat of my own, I murmured, “Thank you, mate.”

  Draco bowed his great body down for us to climb upon.

  Cassandra had just swung her leg over and taken her seat when we heard yelling. Looking down at me, she said, “I thought you said you rode Dirtbag here.”

  “I did, why?” I asked.

  “Look.” Cassandra pointed and I turned to see Dolly coming out of the tree line and it looked like she was carrying something… and that something looked suspiciously like a cat and I was not talking about a catamount.

 

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