by Cecy Robson
I reached out a weak hand and touched the soft skin of her beautiful face. “I love you, Celia,” I choked, struggling to speak. “I’ve always loved you.”
Celia released an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “No you don’t, Bren.”
“Okay,” I wheezed. “I don’t. It just seemed like the right thing to say. Get this thing off me, will ya?”
Celia scanned the length of the trunk. “Okay, but I have to change to do it. Don’t look while I take my clothes off.”
She stood and immediately started stripping. My lids peeled opened over my head. Dan was in trouble, my lungs were hamburger, and I was pretty sure my liver had split in two. And still I watched. Closely. Don’t judge me. Knocking on death’s door or not, I was still a man, damn it.
Shit. She looks even hotter than the last time I saw her naked. I wonder if Aric ever—
“Bren! I told you not to look!”
I frowned. “I never agreed to that.”
She changed, unleashing the golden tigress eager to kick ass. Her front claws dug into the bark while her back claws pushed against the forest floor. I roared as the weight rolled off me. It would’ve landed on my right arm if Celia hadn’t managed to hurl it at the last moment.
She nudged me with her large furry face, helping me to sit when I continued to writhe on the frozen ground like a salted slug. My crushed ribs withdrew from my lungs and slid beneath my skin to realign against my sternum. A barrage of swears spat out my mouth. Holy Mother, it hurt. The pain skyrocketed into mind-blinding agony when my ribs snapped back into place one after the other.
My vision blurred, and for a moment I came close to blacking out. But it didn’t matter. I’d heal. But Celia wasn’t were; she didn’t have the ability to mend her wounds. Son of a whore. That tree would’ve killed her if it had landed on her. But I guessed that’s what the shit-witch who aimed it at us wanted.
It took me another few breaths to rise. When I finally stumbled to my feet, it was Celia’s turn to save my ass. She shoved me back behind the fallen tree just as a funnel of green and red raged toward us, burning a path through the forest like the mother of all infernos.
Flames engulfed the longer branches of our cover, barbequing the air above our heads. Holy shit. We’d just missed getting burned to bacon. As the flames died down, we cautiously peered over the trunk, following the path seared by the fire.
Across the long stretch of burning embers, a woman with long pale hair and a black velvet dress stood holding a staff loosely against her side and smiling. Her smile faded when Celia stood and licked her chops.
I patted Celia’s furry side. “Okay, little pussy. There’s your mouse.”
The witch gripped her staff and pointed it at Celia when she charged, chanting in frightened spurts, building her magic.
Streams of green and red shot from her staff as Celia bounded toward her. But my girl was too damn quick. Her tigress form jumped and swerved with lightning speed, avoiding the flames as if they were nothing more than twirling ribbons. She shifted when she was mere yards away, and appeared in a high leap. The witch lifted her staff and surrounded herself with a protection bubble, just barely missing getting pounced and clawed. She screamed when Celia slammed into her magical shield and cracked it with just one blow. The bubble splintered, obstructing the witch’s terrified face.
That eerie feeling returned as I watched, raising the hairs on my neck like flags. Once again a dense mist overtook the land. The temperature dropped . . . and the tormented ghosts rose from the ground. They gathered slowly around Celia and the witch, their numbers building—watching, waiting for Celia to break through. The way she pounded her massive claws against the protective shield, she’d soon reach her prey. Celia would make sure this Tribe tramp would never raise evil spirits again.
And I’d make sure to send the ass-wipes back to hell.
I fought my way to my feet, while agony continued to tear its way through my body like bubbling acid. I howled, both from the struggle to rise and to call the pack. Pricks or not, I needed them here.
From a very, very, very, long distance away, another wolf answered my call.
For shit’s sake. It’s going to take them forever to get here.
My head snapped up at the sound of Dan’s pained screams. Jesus. They’d started eating his soul. I hobbled toward his growing cries, my pain making me annoyingly slow. I swore, still unable to catch my breath. With a grunt and another few more creative swears, I forced my legs to move faster, biting through the pain and stumbling over every damn rock, log, and creeping vine.
I reached a clearing, staggering to a halt at the sight of a cluster of naked blue and brown women piled on top of each other, clawing, hissing, and fighting over what lay beneath them. Their heads jerked up as my growls built into a hateful roar.
They growled in challenge, their beauty gone, replaced by shriveled, sagging skin, and sunken faces that bared their thirst and hunger. One by one they slithered out of their pile, flashing their pointy teeth and wicked claws. I advanced, only fifty yards remained between me and them. I was going to kill them and then find Dan. They would pay for hurting him. . . .
I didn’t see Dan until the last of the Ciguapas lifted from his unmoving form. His head lay twisted in an odd angle and blood smeared the lapels of his polyester suit.
They’d killed him. They’d killed my best friend.
Something fired deep within me, a trigger of rage I’d always kept carefully in check. But there was no need to slap the safety on now. I buried the torturous pain of my mending and exploded with fury, changing into my wolf form and surrendering to a beast whose need for carnage knew no end.
They’d murdered my friend, my brother, my family, my pack, and now these fuckers were going to pay!
My claws dug into the frozen earth, kicking it behind me as I sped forward. The Ciguapas spread out. They refused to go to hell without a fight.
But they had no goddamn clue who they were fighting.
A long-forgotten scent from my past stopped my onslaught like a whip strangling my neck. My eyes widened as I ground to a halt. My body tumbled and rolled from the force of my sudden stop, lashing at and aggravating my injuries. But the pain was secondary to the rush of emotions I felt then. I scrambled to my feet, my throat tightening into a hard knot that threatened to choke me.
Shit.
Before me stood my human mother, her arms outstretched and her face breaking into that familiar look of love she’d always greeted me with.
I shook my giant head, trying to clear my vision. This isn’t happening. I blinked my eyes opened, convinced she’d vanished. But there she stood, smiling patiently. I inched forward, wanting and needing to believe it was her. My father had killed them both when he tried to turn her werewolf, I reminded myself. He’d failed, I insisted. They weren’t coming back.
And still there she was.
She strode toward me, moving in her signature determined walk, her dark curly hair bouncing against her shoulders. “Bren,” she said quietly, speaking in that same melodious tone I remembered and struggled to forget. “My son!”
Without fear, she knelt and embraced my wide neck, her aroma of sunflowers claiming it was undeniably her. She smiled softly and stroked my head, just like she had when I was a scared little boy. “Everything is going to be all right. I promise, Bren.”
That’s when I tore out her goddamn throat.
The body that crumbled at my feet was not my mother. I was positive even before she morphed back to one of those goddamn Tundas. My mother never promised shit. Even when I begged her to tell me she and dad would survive the turn. That should’ve been my first damn clue they would die.
The taste of her blood riled my wolf and made him crave more. My hind legs launched me forward, throwing me into several of the remaining freaks at once. They fought like rabid animals, raking my bac
k, limbs, and face with their sharp nails and piercing my flesh with their fangs.
It did jack against my beast.
I tasted their fear as it spilled down my jowls in pools of gray blood. I wanted them to suffer. And I wanted them to convulse in misery for what they’d done to Dan.
Dan had never hurt anyone. He was kind and smart and loyal. He was the first person I ever told about my pathetic past. I thought he’d pity me. Instead that beanpole looked me in the eye and told me he was proud of me for surviving without parents, a pack, and a dime to my name. He had the purest heart of any man in this goddamn world and now he was gone.
My claws cracked open chests, my fangs severed necks. Fuck you for taking him away from me, from Celia, from her sisters, from the world. Fuck you!
“Bren, leave them . . . They’re dead, Bren, they’re dead.”
Celia’s pained voice tore me away from the chunks of gray flesh my fangs continued to shred and gnaw. She knelt over Dan in her human form, pushing down on his chest and filling his lungs with her breath. Tears streaked her bloody face as she sobbed and pleaded him not to die.
My body lurched forward and bound to their side. Dan’s vacant and unblinking stare was like a punch in the gut. My wolf eyes took in his chalk white skin and blue lips, while the man within me begged him to move, to speak, to breathe.
I sniffed at him. . . . Christ, he was still alive, but my wolf could sense the light in his soul dwindling away with every passing moment. Every muscle in my body tensed. I couldn’t let him die. He needed a chance.
So I shoved Celia away and pierced his heart with my fangs.
I vaguely remember her screaming and trying to wrench me off him before the world faded into black.
Chapter Eight
Sunlight beat against my heavy lids, resolute it was time to wake my ass up. I blinked several times, fighting the haze that followed one hell of a nap. I swore and rubbed my eyes. Damn, I was friggin’ starving. The warm sheet slipped from my chest, exposing my pecs as I pushed up on my elbows and took in my bedroom at a glance. Hell, someone had tidied up. A basket full of clean laundry lay folded on top of my bureau, filling my nose with the clean scent of “summer breeze” fabric softener. And shit, had the babe lying next to me vacuumed?
I did a double-take when I realized the “babe” sleeping beside me was Celia. She cuddled against my pillow and tucked her bare feet deeper beneath her long brown skirt, causing the collar of her light blue sweater to droop between the swells of her breasts. I yanked her by the waist and pulled her to me, burying my nose into her neck. “I always knew we’d end up in bed.”
She laughed and pushed me off of her, smiling as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. “I see you’re finally awake, sleeping beauty.” Her smile softened as she sat up. “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I scratched at my beard, pausing when I realized how thick it was. “How long have I been out?”
Celia reached for her cell phone. “Hmm, almost forty hours. You missed a full moon last night.”
I jerked up as a swarm of memories came flooding back. The spirits . . . the witch . . . Shit— Dan!
Celia cupped my shoulder gently with her small hand and smiled. “He’s okay, Bren. You did it.” She glanced at the door when the soft pads of urgent feet echoed down the hall. “Speaking of which . . .”
A giant wolf stumbled in his haste to round the corner and launched himself upward. He landed in a belly flop between us before scrambling to the foot of the bed. Jesus, never had I seen such an ungainly lupine.
The wolf spread out his long scrawny body. An excited glimmer lightened his intelligent amber eyes while his long tongue draped out of his mouth in true goofball glory. “Dan?” He wagged his tail and barked out a happy yip. “You’re . . . fucking blue.”
Celia laughed again and leaned forward to stroke the top of his narrow head. “He’s a blue merle, extremely rare for a werewolf. According to the pack Elders it’s symbolic of rare and powerful magic.” A note of concern shadowed her husky voice. “He’s supposed to develop a special ability. One that will impact the entire were race.” She cleared her throat and forced a hopeful smile. “He keeps admiring himself in the mirror and hasn’t wanted to change back to human.” Her smile widened, becoming more genuine. “I must say, he is awfully cute.”
Dan’s tail thumped louder against the mattress. He jerked up suddenly and dive-bombed Celia with his ridiculously dorky tongue. Celia wrinkled her nose and batted his long snout. “Ew, Danny. Cut it out.”
Dan was alive, well, and a goddamn blue werewolf. Maybe knowing his freak new were mo-jo could knock our entire species on its ass should’ve scared me, but it didn’t—at least not then. I was stoked we’d survived and decided it was time my boy had some fun.
I locked Celia in a full nelson and hooked my legs around hers. “Get her, Dan! Get her! Come on, fella!”
Dan was on Celia like duct tape, slathering her face with his werewolf love. Celia squirmed and squealed. “Don’t. . . . Stop. . . . Knock it off. . . . Ew!”
“I believe she asked you to stop.”
We froze at the sound of Aric’s deep voice. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his thick brows angling into a frown. Unlike Dan, the stealthy bastard hadn’t made a sound.
I released Celia. She hurried to pull down her skirt. Oops. The hem had bunched up during the struggle and—oh shit—hiked all the way past her lacey pink panties.
Dan’s tail curled between his legs, his submissive nature buckling in Aric’s strong presence. “Dan,” I warned, my jaw tightening. “If you piss on my bed, I’m going to beat your ass with a newspaper.”
Aric’s brows softened when he locked eyes with Celia, his eyes sparking with heat and tenderness completely unfamiliar to me. Celia’s lips parted and her irises sizzled, giving him back what she’d sensed in his stare. She wiped her face on her sleeve, her cheeks warming to a soft blush. “Hi, Aric,” she murmured.
“Hello, Celia.”
They stared at each other, forgetting the rest of us. No one made a sound. And except for Dan’s ears drooping, no one made a move, either. I let Celia and Aric have their moment, but hell, it was a long friggin’ moment. Just when I was about to yell at them to get their own damn room, Celia dropped her gaze and slipped to the edge of bed.
She tugged on her slouchy suede boots. “I should go.”
Aric’s expression hardened, the angles of his face tightening with frustration and annoyance. Now, that’s a look I knew oh so well.
He huffed. “I guess you wouldn’t want to keep Misha waiting.”
Oh shit.
“And I’ll just bet your fiancée can’t wait to have you back,” she snapped.
I tucked my hands behind my head. “Actually, Ceel, I doubt that angry bitch is at the edge of her seat waiting for Aric.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “You see, I kinda let her read his note.”
Celia’s eyes widened and she cleared her throat, trying to squelch her expanding grin. It didn’t work. Aric caught it and lowered his head. She shoved her cell phone in her purse and walked toward the door, slowing as she neared and pausing beside him.
Aric maintained his position against the frame, casually leaning back with his arms folded over his chest. His nose flared slightly, capturing her scent. Like a shy teen, Celia played with the strap of her purse as she spoke to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you told me not to go after Dan. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, or insult you. I just wanted to help our friend.”
Aric hooked a long strand of her hair with his finger and tucked it behind her ear then slowly trailed his finger across her jaw line, using it to lift her chin. “It’s not that I didn’t think you could help. I know you’re tough. But you were facing an enemy that could have robbed you of your soul.” He released her then but kept his eyes trained on her. “It would
destroy me if anything ever happened to you.”
For a moment, I was sure Celia was going to say something back—maybe about his declaration of their matehood in the letter. But she instead she averted her gaze and walked away . . . even though he continued to watch her closely.
“Quit staring at her ass,” I yelled when his eyes trailed her out of the room.
“Don’t be an asshole, Bren,” she hissed from the end of the hall.
“He’s the one eyeing your butt cheeks like they can fold paper,” I shot back defensively.
The door slammed, cutting off Celia’s growl. Aric rubbed his face, trying to beat back the heat crawling up his neck. “Thanks, Bren.”
I scratched Dan’s ears, my grin widening. “No problem, boss. So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I came to speak with you about what happened the other night. You should have howled a call the moment those spirits showed up.”
“Why? Because Celia was with me?”
Aric paused. “In part, but also because you were in danger, and so were the humans we’re sworn to protect.”
“Nah. You would’ve been too distracted trying to get Celia alone so you could make out with her.” Aric stared at me, probably torn between snapping my neck and laughing. Either way, the prick didn’t deny it.
He cleared his throat, struggling it seemed to wrangle in his patience. Hmm. Wonder why?
“Your pack is not your enemy, Bren. You have to stop perceiving us as such.”
I opened my mouth, ready to make some wiseass remark. But considering I dragged my tail into danger and took Celia along for the ride, I knew the bastard had a point. I’d needed them, and had waited too damn long to call in our location.
Aric watched me, his expression stern. “I hate to admit it, but you did a hell of a job tracking Dan. I don’t know if another were could have fixed on such a weak trail.”
