Rowena's Revenge (Broadus Supernatural Society)

by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt

  The stranger’s slight chuckle shatters my little dream, and I look down the bed at him. “What’s your name?” He’s going to basically operate on my mate, so I should know his name right?

  “Penton. My name is Penton.” He gives me a slight, crooked smile, and a wave of ease rolls over me, causing me to smirk back at him. “Now please, if we could? She’s getting too weak.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble, turning my attention back to Row. I run my free hand through her hair, smoothing it away from the side of her face, and I see her features relax; the crease between her brows almost disappearing as a slow purr comes from her throat, making me smile.

  “Gonna fix you up, kitten,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her ear gently. Her spicy, homey scent rolls into my body, invading every cell, and I just want to wrap myself around her, protecting her from everything and everyone.

  I turn my attention back down to Penton just as he touches the blade to her skin, and she tenses; the serenity and affection of the second before gone immediately. I watch as Penton hesitates, taking a deep breath, and then returns to dig the bullet out, his long fingers pulling the flesh from the blades path to find the silver causing her all this pain.

  I can feel her shaking, trembling, but there is no sound. It frightens me that she’s silent as the sharp blade cuts through her wound, her blood dripping out and filling the bunched sheets around her leg. I look back to her face and see almost all of the color in her skin is gone, replaced by a ghostly grey, squeezing my heart. There is a thin layer of sweat covering her forehead and I lean down, kissing her lightly and almost recoiling at the clammy feel.

  “Got it,” Penton says in a quiet triumph, holding up the smashed metal between his crimson covered fingers. I nod to him, and he tosses it aside, dropping the knife to produce a long needle from the first aid kit. “What kind of Inn is this?” he says, giving me a wide eyed look as he holds up the needle. As we both shrug our shoulders, he pulls a thread free from his coat and begins to close Row’s wound; the swipes of the needle being sure and quick.

  I lean in, placing my lips on her cheek while brushing the now sweat matted hair from her face. “You’re okay now, kitten. All patched up. Now, just rest.” I keep lightly stroking her face as I see Penton wrapping her leg in gauze. She’s so still and silent; it breaks my heart. She should be fighting and writhing in pain, anything, but nothing. Not even a peep.

  “It’ll be more comfortable for her if we leave her bare under the sheets. Her body should regulate the temperature while healing more efficiently that way.” He starts to reach up, his fingers looping into the waist band of her lace panties and the growl that rips out from my chest seems to vibrate off the walls, my hand shifting into claw and shooting out to stop his movement.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I pull him to within an inch from my face, and I let my wolf out slightly, feeling my teeth elongate and my eyes change to the glowing hazel of my Berserker. This move usually makes fellas like him shit their pants and run off with their tails between their legs; but this guy, like I said before, is different and he just smiles at me, giving me a little laugh.

  “I am her mate. If you let down those macho guards of yours you’d see that. I will protect this woman no matter what. Now unhand me, so I can make her comfortable.” He shakes my hand off as I stand back in shock, letting my guard down, and realizing he’s right.

  What the fuck? He is Row’s mate, too? Well, doesn’t this just make a shitty night even worse? This can’t be; Rowena and I are together and happy; on the run from the law, but happy.

  “What if I don’t like the idea of sharing my mate?” I bite out, taking a step back toward Rowena’s face as he quickly strips her, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders.

  “Listen, Blaine,” he basically spits out my name, his eyes turning on me being filled with fury and anguish, “I don’t like the idea either, but it’s what the Fates have given us. This is how we are to be, so we need to deal. First, we need to see that she heals, and then get the hell out of here, because whether or not you wanna admit it, there are majorly evil forces after her and they will stop at nothing to have her.”

  “What the fuck do you mean there are forces after her? They were just hired hit men, working for a vamp down in New York. He doesn’t have that much pull, and he’ll give up once we’re out of the country.” I take a step back and look out the window. The snow is coming down harder than it was this morning and the wind is kicking it around, blowing it up onto the panes, seemingly trying to slap me in the face.

  “You just have to trust me,” he says, and I can feel his eyes on my back, his reflection in the glass of the window showing me that he is leaning over Row, brushing her hair back and trailing his fingers down her bare arm.

  The sight of it calms me for a second, and before I realize it I’m settling onto the bed, on the opposite side where Penton is, and snuggling up to Rowena. His stare finds me as I lean over her and kiss her hair, laying back down with my nose pressed up against her shoulder and my body curled around hers. I close my eyes, but can hear him shed what I’m guessing is his jacket and boots, the material hitting the floor before the bed dips and another level of heat flows over Row to me, the scent of apricots ripened in the sun making my mouth water.

  Shaking the smell of fruit from my senses, I wrap my arm over her back, only to feel his do the same, but I’m strangely not bothered by it. It feels right for some reason; my wolf even gives into it and curls up into a ball, tucking his nose into his hind leg and wrapping his tail over his eyes.

  Maybe this won’t be so bad?

  The thought of something powerful wanting my Row, wanting my mate, makes me want to howl to the heavens. They’ll have to get through me first, and I don’t plan on going down without a fight.

  CHAPTER THREE:

  Rowena

  December 25, 2016

  The sunshine hurts my eyes as I come to, surrounded by tall grass with the sound of neighing ponies in the distance meeting my ears. Sitting up, I have no idea where I am, the hilly landscape and mountains a very unfamiliar backdrop to me. The sun is wonderful, though, and I turn my face up to soak it in, holding my arms up over my head in a stretch.

  The fresh air swirls lightly around me in a breeze, bringing the scents of fresh grass and wild flowers to my attention, making a smile fill my lips. The untouched wild has always made me happy, ever since being pushed out of that town when my mother died. I had lived in the shadows, tagging along with a group of gypsies I ran into down in Louisiana, never staying in one place long enough to get attached to anyone.

  When you get attached, you get hurt. I’ve already dealt with that in my life and finding out Blaine is my mate makes those old feelings come to the surface all over again. I feel as if he’ll eventually leave me, or die, and when he does I’m afraid I’m shrivel up and die, my heart not being strong enough to stand the loss.

  “Don’t worry, Lass,” a strong, deep, Scottish voice scares me from my musing and my eyes shoot open, searching for the source. A tall, broad, black and silver haired man stands in front of me on the downward slope of the slight hill I’m sitting on, a happy grin displayed on his face framing white-blue eyes.

  Eyes just like mine, and the stranger, Penton, who saved me. Where is he by the way? I look around me, only to return my stare to the man before me. I can see the slight wrinkles around his eyes as he smiles again, running his hand back through his hair letting the split colors fall back into place.

  “Don’t worry about what?” I ask in a nervous laugh, quickly getting to my feet and finally noticing that I’m in a dress, which I never wear. I grab the material in my hands, looking at it unbelieving and mutter, “What the fuck?” under my breath, getting a chuckle to rumble from the stranger before me.

  “Don’t worry about your mates, Lass; they’ll take care of themselves and you. You have to trust in their love for you.” He turns toward the meadow below, only to reach out his hand, offering it to me an
d nodding for me to come to him.

  “Mates? As in plural? What the hell are you talking about, and who the hell are you anyway?” I move to my left as the man’s eyes stay with mine, the smile never leaving his lips. He waves for me to come to him once more, and when I don’t move, he laughs lightly.

  “Walk with me, girl, and I’ll tell you all you need to know.”

  I’ve never been one to follow orders, but why does it seem like my body, my mind, and even my leopard want me to go with this man? I can feel the power emanating off of him, my ever present flames deep within, turning to a cool blue rather than the hot orange I usually have around strangers. I watch him watch me, his eyes never leaving mine as I hesitantly step toward him, my hand at my side with my skin itching to make the simple contact of his.

  I don’t reach out and take his hand. I come up beside him, still at least ten feet away, and he lowers his with a nod, turning to face the meadow below. I can hear him take a deep breath in, the neighing of the ponies coming closer, and I see a bunch of them chasing each other around a bend and into view before us. I can see from the corner of my eyes as a grin picks up the corner of his mouth again, and I can’t help but match it. A sense of safety and love falls over me as he takes a step down, turning and calling for me silently with a nod of his head.

  “My name is Shamus,” he says as his voice seems to flow back on the breeze, wrapping around me and hugging me tight, silently telling me that I am safe and wanted. I’ve never really felt that way, and I shake it off, not knowing how to take it. I see him peer at me over his shoulder and I turn my eyes to the grass, guilt and shame filling my veins for a second before my defensive and angry self takes over again.

  “And what the hell do you have to do with me?” I stop, letting him get ahead of me before he turns to face me once more, that damn grin still on his lips. What the hell is so funny? I think, and he laughs out loud at me, spiking my anger and turning the cool blue flame within to the familiar hot orange; my skin is tingling and the hair is standing up because of the spike.

  I can see the glow start to emanate from my arms and feet, the grass around me smoking from the ember heat. I just know the way my eyes look right now, the flames edging out and around them, framing my face as my hair does in the breeze. It’s frightening sometimes, even to me.

  “You need to learn to control your anger, Rowena,” he chides, raising his eyebrow at me and my flames extinguish immediately, even as I try to re-stoke them. They flicker, but something more powerful fights against it, and as I strain and struggle, I let out a frustrated grunt and look this Shamus in the eye, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “You know who I am,” he says, turning and continuing on his path, leaving me behind.

  Well don’t ya think if I did, I wouldn’t have asked? I think to myself, throwing my hands up in the air out of aggravation as he keeps walking. I take the second and look around me, taking in the serene landscape once more.

  The mountains are all around me with a group of grey clouds gathered at the tops of the peaks to the north, signaling a thunderstorm is coming. The horses are still chasing each other, running through a herd of wild sheep and scattering the group. Up above me a hawk circles, calling out in a high pitched shrill, announcing to all the beings around that he is watching.

  “Better hurry up, Lass. Don’t want to be out here when the rain comes.” I turn my stare back to Shamus, and see that he is much farther in front of me than I would have guessed. Do I go with him, or do I try and find my way back?

  “There is no going back, Lass. You’re dreaming. You can only wake up when we want you to wake up,” he laughs, waving for me to follow him and turning back to his path.

  “Well, hell,” I mutter under my breath and grab at the skirt of my dress, picking it free from my feet so I can run somewhat normally without fear of tripping and falling on my face.

  I head in his direction at a slow pace, but as I seem to get closer I see him look over his shoulder, smile, and take off running, leaving me in the dust. So I pick up speed, letting my leopard out just a little to take advantage of her speed. I can hear his laugh on the wind—that bastard—and I let my anger fuel my drive, my flames sparking to life again and giving me a burst of speed. I can feel the heat creeping over my arms as I start to catch up, Shamus leading me around a high hill and into a valley. Horses sweep down off of the hill and join us, a spirited young Filly running to my left hand side as a beautiful black Mustang takes up the right.

  My flames start to burn slight holes through the white sundress I’m in as I follow Shamus into yet another valley, noticing a large carved out doorway in front of us. Shamus disappears into the stone, and the horses split off, continuing their run up and around the door as I surge full speed ahead, not really thinking about what I might be walking into.

  Hitting the smooth floor, I skid to a stop, taking in my surroundings as I try and reign in the fire and my breathing. The light colored limestone reflects the bright orange of my flames, and I quickly try to tamp them down from running wild as I spot Shamus standing before me at what looks like a throne. There is a woman sitting on the throne, looking at me, a sense of wonder flowing out to me and making me feel calm, beckoning me to her.

  “Come forward, child.” Her sweet, melodic voice sweeps out and over the space between us, pulling at every fiber within me and my feet act on their own, seeming to float over the smooth surface toward her. I have never been pulled toward someone like this; not even when I found Blaine. This is different; it’s a feeling of belonging and of family, taking over every ounce of anger that flows within me.

  “Who…Who are you?” I barely get out, finding it hard to speak as the rays of sunshine pick up and illuminate the woman before me. She is magnificent; dainty, yet strong looking with long, floor length orange-red hair, her white-blue eyes smiling at me as she reaches out for my hand. I’m suddenly full of fear that I am unworthy of her, and I recoil, stepping back out of the sun.

  “Oh, child,” she smiles, standing from her throne and coming to be only inches from me in a flash of blinding sun. “You have nothing to fear. We are all family here.”

  “What?” I say with every ounce of rejection I can muster. I have no family. No mother. No father. No one.

  “Not true, Lass,” Shamus breaks in, and I give him a nasty look, letting the flames burn to life slightly so that they hover over my skin. He shakes his head, reaching out and grabbing my hand before I can move, and his touch douses the flames, and I’m left feeling as if I’ve been sprayed with freezing water. “I am your Da.”

  What. The. Fuck is going on here? I think, as my jaw goes slack and my eyes stare blankly ahead at this man that is telling me he is my father. My mother had always told me, between the liquor fueled rants and tear filled breakdowns, that my father was a no good drifter who had wooed her, and then left her when she was eight months pregnant. She always blamed my weird appearance for her strikeouts in the love department, but that’s another drawer filled with skeletons in my closet that I refuse to re-open.

  The woman’s hand sweeps out and grasps mine, sending a wave of warmth through my entire body, bringing my stare to her bright and smiling face. Her fingers come up to lightly brush my cheek, and the anger inside of me disappears, replaced by something I’ve never felt before; the feeling of being unconditionally loved.

  “Rowena, your time with us is short. Please listen closely.” She leans in and kisses me on the cheek, sending a ripple of goose-bumps over my skin as she turns and seems to float back up onto the sun bathed dais. Sitting, she looks down on me with a sweet expression, a voice in my head, telling me to take everything she says seriously.

  “We are your family, and Shamus is indeed your Da.” She nods to him and he smiles at me again, crossing his massive arms over his broad, defined chest. “My name is Siobhan, and I am the Queen of the Fae.”

  “And I am Kade,” the strong, deep voice vibrates from behind me, shocking me as it feels like a mil
lion tiny lightning bolts flow up from the floor and into my body. He is an almost statuesque looking man; his strong features chiseled and defined by his perfect skin and white blue eyes that are locked on me as he approaches. He stops only a foot or two from my frozen frame, and his smile lights up the space around me, his laugh making me smile as he joins the woman on the dais. “I am King of the Fae, and Siobhan is my wife.”

  I subconsciously curtsy to them, and then, realizing what I just did, I shake my shoulders loose and retake my indifferent stature, looking back to Siobhan as she lightly clears her throat. I see her hand cover Kade’s on his arm rest, and I can’t help but smile, the look of love that passes between the two warming my heart instantly.

  I want that. I want that kind of love that even when just my hand is touching his, we know. I want the kind of love that when he looks at me across a crowded room, he makes me feel as if I’m the only one there; the only one for him. Can I have that with Blaine? Maybe with Penton, too?

  “Please, Rowena, just listen to your mates. They have your best intentions at heart, and whether or not you want to admit it, you do have deeper feelings for them.” I scrunch my nose and shake my head, trying to deny the flames of desire that ignite every time I’m around Blaine, or when Penton saved me last night. “Don’t deny it dear, it will only cause you strife if you delay what fate has set out for you. A word of advice before you go?”

  “Before I go? Where am I going?” I feel like they are tossing me out, and I’m suddenly scared, just like I was when I was younger and alone. The darkness of solitude starts to filter into my heart, and I can feel the flames ignite all over my skin and spark at my fingers, the material of the sundress crackling in the heat.

  I can see all three of their brows furrow and feel the wave of concern flow over me as I feel the flames spread up and through my mind, the thin wispy tendrils of heat, orange, and blue flowing from my eyes. I don’t want their worry. I don’t want their pity, and my anger, frustration, and hate takes over, causing my inner fire to explode; disintegrating my sundress and leaving me bare.