Rowena's Revenge (Broadus Supernatural Society)

by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt

  “Is my daughter feeling any better?” His voice is low, but the Scottish twinge still lingers, flowing over the arm’s length between us. I nod toward the slightly open bedroom door with the pitch black behind it, and I see his eyes linger on it before he clears his throat. “Ah, well, are you headed out to the Pack gathering tonight?”

  “I don’t think so,” I mumble, remembering that tonight is a full moon and the annual Pack Valentine’s party at the bar owned by Conall’s family, and my wolf stands at attention, whining and ready to run in nature. He wants me to shake off this funk, this hurt, but it’s easier said than done when someone who has a piece of you dies. True, Penton was more attached to Rowena, but that night when they bonded, the magic flowing between the two of them drew me in too, all of us felt it.

  “Ah, Lad, I think you should go. It would be good for your wolf to run with the Pack.” Shamus runs a hand back through his long, half black-half silver hair and then slaps me on the shoulder, the power and weight behind it making me grunt slightly. “The lass will be fine if you go.” He nods toward the bedroom again with a slight smile and it makes me wonder what is going through the ancient man’s head.

  “I can’t just leave her.” I shake my head, while waving him away dismissively. Does he really think I’ll just up and leave my mate? Fuck that. Scoffing, I walk across the room and grab my glass of bourbon, swirl it around in the glass, and throw it back, my wolf growling in delight from its warmth as the liquid slides down, seeming to radiate into my limbs.

  “Like I said, Lad, she won’t be alone,” he says again, sitting down in one of our dining chairs, making it creak and groan under his weight. I shoot him a look, but he’s too busy staring at the bedroom door.

  Does he hear something I can’t? Can he see something? “What the hell are you looking at?” I ask, placing my glass back on the table with an unintentional slam and the ice jumps around inside.

  “I’m just remembering, Lad,” he says with a slight smile, but I see the sadness in his eyes. The same white-blue eyes that Rowena has, that Penton had.

  “Yeah? Rememberin’ what?” I ask, and the sarcasm flows through my voice. Shamus raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t look at me. He just chuckles and leans forward in his seat, clasping his hands together over the table and knocking his knuckles softly into the wood.

  “I’m remembering the way Penton’s face lit up when he heard his one true love was alive again. I’m remembering the way he couldn’t wait to go to her, to see her, to touch her.” He pauses and the sadness I saw before, it overflows and my wolf can feel it, making him recoil just a bit to keep the hurt out. His knuckles tap a little harder on the table and his now worry creased face looks up to me.

  “I regret not being in her life when she was younger, especially when she needed me. Hell, I did both of my girls wrong, but I’ve tried to make up for it with Siofra. Hopefully, so far, I’ve succeeded, so I need to make it right with Rowena, too.” He stands abruptly, coming over to invade my personal space as his chest bumps mine. “Know that what you did was right, but that some things are meant to be, and even the darkest of magic can’t keep them apart.”

  With that he’s gone, and by that I don’t mean he turns and leaves out the front door, I mean he just plain disappears. Poof, gone. The fucker does this all the time, and I’m left blinking like a dumbass as my brain tries to register. My thinking is if you’re going to come in the front door, leave out the front door. And what the hell was that he said? Fuck, my brain is all in a jumble from the magic floating around, left behind by his departure, and I throw my hand up around my face to try and dissipate it.

  “You should go,” the sweet, meeker than usual voice comes from at my back and I spin, totally surprised to see Rowena standing in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning on the frame.

  Her hair is all a mess and my blood starts to pump as her orange and clove scent reaches me, wrapping around every inch of my being and calling to me, making my wolf issue a tiny growl of pleasure. But as I look her over, I have to keep his whimper of distress in. Her eyes are bloodshot red from crying, her nose and cheeks red to go along with it, and the purple and blue bags under them attest to her not sleeping for at least the last week straight. I want so much just to reach out and pull her into my chest and hold her, to cradle her face into my shoulder and tell her it will be okay, but I get the feeling she will just shy away from me.

  I do reach my hand out and cup her cheek, pushing the stray strands of her short, silver-white hair away as my thumb brushes her skin. Just this meager touch sends my senses into hyper drive and my pulse rages, sending the blood pumping to my groin as I curse myself. She leans into my touch slightly, her eyes fluttering shut as her hand covers mine, but then she pulls it away, cupping it in front of her as her eyes meet mine.

  “You should go. Be with the Pack,” she says, her voice scratchy, and I see the moisture building on her lashes. The tension running through her is like an electrical current and I can feel that she doesn’t really want me to leave, but she knows it is good and that my wolf is going stir crazy. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t wanna leave you alone,” I whisper, squeezing her fingers as she still holds my hand in front of her, swinging it slightly at the hem of her tattered sleep shirt. The flannel is soft against the back of my hand as she sweeps one hand up to brush the hair from her eyes and I wish in that second that the flannel was the soft skin of her flat stomach and that we were tangled in bed instead of standing here. A rush of desire thunders through me again and I see a blush grace her skin. She feels it too.

  “I’m not alone,” she adds, pushing the door open behind her to reveal a regal looking woman with floor length orange hair standing at the window, the moonlight bathing her and casting an eerie light on her white dress. I have no idea who this woman is, but as she flashes me a perfect smile a feeling of ease flows over me, and I somehow know that Row will be perfectly fine if I leave her. I open my mouth to ask who, but Rowena stops me, waving away my question and placing her hand on my chest. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Promise?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at her as her eyes meet mine. Will we talk Row, or will I come home to find you curled up in bed, sobbing, like so many nights and days before this? I say in my head, knowing that she can get my apprehension in a heartbeat.

  “I promise, B.” She gives me a half smile that fades all too fast, and I cup her cheek again, pulling her from her leaning state on the frame to only a whisper from me. Our bodies aren’t touching, but I’m close enough for my body heat to sink into her skin. She sighs and, fuck me, it’s a heaven sent sound.

  “I’ll be back just after midnight. Call me if you need anything, and I mean anything,” I emphasize my meaning, and she nods. I want so much to pull her face to mine and claim her lips, but I feel the hurt pumping through her with every beat of her heart so I just place my lips tenderly on her forehead, wrapping my hands into her hair. I love her with every cell of my being, and I press my lips a little firmer when her hands come onto my forearms and I feel her relax. I put my nose on hers and whisper, “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she replies, and I kiss her cheek quickly.

  There is a new lightness floating around this cabin as I grab my jacket and pull it on, looking back to Row and seeing that woman at her back with her arms over Row’s shoulders. That woman seems awfully happy, almost too happy, and as I look into her white-blue eyes she winks at me, throwing me off kilter completely.

  “Be back later.” I nod to Row as I open the door, the chill of the Montana wind biting at my face.

  “I’ll be here.” She waves and there is nothing left to say.

  Down the porch and crunching through the icy snow, I’m still trying to shake the almost giddy feeling that the orange haired woman bathed me in as I walk to my loaned Jeep. Who is she? She must be part of something to do with Shamus with the white-blue eyes she has, but how does Row already know her?

  “Don’t worry
about it,” I say to myself, slapping my hands onto the steering wheel. “Rowena feels safe, you felt safe, your wolf felt safe. Just focus on what Row wants you to get from this night; freedom and a good workout. Then we’ll head home and talk with our mate.”

  Before meeting Rowena and going through all of this, you’d never hear me be excited about just taking with a woman. Hell, love does strange things to people, but I’m fucking liking it so far.

  ~~~~~

  Rowena

  Watching Blaine walk through the snow to the Jeep is tearing my heart out. Again.

  This is why I didn’t want to let either man into my heart in the first place. Penton was ripped from my life, just to kill off some psychopathic bastard, and now I’m going to leave Blaine alone in this life to soldier on. I’m glad he’s leaving happy, though, with the hope of coming home and seeing me heal lifting his mood. I’d hate to see his real reaction to what he’ll come home to.

  “You shouldn’t have such nasty thoughts, child,” Siobhan chides sweetly from her position behind me, sitting in a rocking chair. All I do is scowl out the window, tucking my hands into the pockets of my tattered flannel night shirt and running my fingers over the cool blade of the knife I have tucked away.

  “Stay out of my head,” I hiss, letting a few tears slip out over my lashes. I’ve been a ball of anger, sadness, and depression since that day at the side of the road and I can’t live like this anymore. Maybe if I end it, Blaine will have the chance to live his life with someone who can love him back with her whole heart. He deserves so much more than the wounded me.

  “You know nothing of what others deserve,” the musical, light voice is right over my shoulder and it scares me. A hand sinks into my pocket, yanking the knife from my grip before I can react, and as I spin to face her, Siobhan holds the small switchblade up in front of her face, smiling at it. “This will not be needed,” and with that, she sandwiches the blade between her hands and it slowly disappears right before my eyes, making the hurt and despair rear to life again.

  “And you know nothing of what I need,” I scream, standing from the windowsill and getting in her perfect face, poking my finger into her pale chest. “You don’t know the hurt that runs through me every second of every day. A piece of me is gone! Don’t you get that? I’m not a whole person, and I never will be again.” Her face shows no emotion and it angers me.

  I turn away from her and issue a frustrated hiss, the vibration hurting my throat, and I reach for Blaine’s navy blue, work Carhartt jacket hanging on the back of the door. I slip on a pair of my imposter Ugg boots and swing open the back door, not caring about my bare legs as I stomp out onto the back porch.

  The cold nips at my skin as I stand there and fume, wallowing in my pity and sadness. I’m drowning, and no one knows how I feel. I need Penton back, but he’s gone. Dead. Stabbed through the heart by my very own Blaine right in front of me.

  I wish I could go back the month and a half that I’ve spent in hell to that day and break through the haze of hurt to see Cearbhall meet his fate. Siofra told me that as soon as Blaine drove the blade through Penton’s chest that Cearbhall burst into flames and continued to burn, while screaming and rolling around, until he was nothing but a pile of a few bones and ash. She assures me that our father, Shamus, destroyed the remaining evidence appropriately, but I still want to go back and spit on his writhing body.

  “Don’t be so selfish,” Siobhan calls to me as she glides through the open back door. I really wish she’d leave me be. She laughs lightly, tucking her arm through mine and leaning her head on my shoulder. “Tsk, tsk, dear. I’m not going anywhere. You are my blood and, therefore, I will be here ‘till the end of time for you.”

  “Where were you when Cearbhall and his Ghouls were fighting us out on the road?” I grind out, plopping my butt down onto the top step as she follows suit, her head never leaving my shoulder.

  “I couldn’t interfere, you know that,” she sighs, running her hand over the arm of my jacket. I’m not going to try and deny it, her presence is lifting my spirits and her touch makes me want to smile, but I just can’t. The lingering sadness that makes my heart ache remains.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I sigh, looking out to the moonlit frosty pond that stretches behind our cozy cabin and my sister’s home. A flash of that day and the way the sword stuck out of Penton’s chest runs through my mind, and I have to flinch and close my eyes to try and make it go away as my flames try and lick out onto my skin in anger.

  “Some things, my dear, are meant to happen. They are meant to tear us down and build us up again, making us stronger than we once were.” Her hand wraps into mine and she squeezes, the flow of energy making my flames die and a slight smile grace my lips. Her words make me scoff and I shake my head. I can never be stronger after this.

  “You sell yourself short, my child.” She laughs, leaning her head on mine as she pats my hand. “My dear, you have more potential in this world than I think you realize, but in time, you will see. They will all see. Things that are meant to be will be, and they will always find a way.”

  “You are bat-shit crazy.” I start to laugh as I look back out at the pond, but stop when I think I see something in the tree line. I must be seeing things, because it’s gone now. I’m the one going crazy, because even on the wind there is nothing, not even the faint scent of a wolf in the distance. Nothing.

  Siobhan’s light musical laugh and her fingers squeezing mine bring me back from concentrating on the trees and I find her standing, leaving me on the top step. “What do you mean, ‘they will find a way’? What are you talking about?” I ask her as she walks back toward the still open door, a sweet smile on her face.

  “Fate works in mysterious ways, my dear. When you think it hates you, it gives you something great. When you think it’s in your favor, it takes things from you. But what is meant to be, will always find a way and even the darkest of magic, the darkest of souls, can never, ever, keep it apart.” With that, she turns and gives me a wide, bright smile, blowing a kiss to me on the chilly wind before disappearing in a flash of warm sunlight that breaks through the dark night.

  “What the fuck?” I say to myself as the wind swirls around my face, pushing my hair in all directions and into my eyes. When will they ever learn to use a door?

  Shaking my head, I put it down between my knees as the darkness creeps in around me again. What the hell does she mean by things will always find their way? God damn riddles; I’m not in the mood for riddles. I’m not in the mood for anything, except maybe to kill something.

  A wave of pain and anger rolls through me, radiating from my chest, and I scream out into the sleeves of my jacket as I bring my arms up, covering my face to try and keep in the tears I know will follow. The scream turns into sobbing and I turn my face up to the moon, wiping the moisture from my face as a breeze starts to lick at my skin.

  My skin tingles immediately as the scent of apricots meets my nose, wrapping around every single inch and cell of my being and kicking my heart to rapid beat. My leopard comes to life, surging ahead and changing my eyes as I search the area around me.

  I smell him. It’s him; I know it is. Please don’t let this be a trick my sleep deprived mind is playing on me.

  I see something down by the pond move and I freeze, zooming in on it. It was only a shadow, a split second, but the breeze still carries Penton’s scent. Movement again, and I’m up on my feet at the bottom step, my heart at a frantic pace, threatening to beat right out of my chest.

  A bright flash of lightning strikes right at the pond and I shield my eyes from the light, wincing as my vision goes white with spots. No thunder, no follow up flashes, and the wind is still carrying that heart lifting scent my way. I blindly start trudging through the snow in the direction that I think is the pond as my vision is still blurred and trying to recover from the lightning.

  “Penton?” I yell hesitantly, feeling like a crazy woman screaming her deceased lover’s name. Am I crazy? Is this all
a hallucination? Fuck, I’m going all in. “Penton!?” I scream again, rubbing at my eyes and stumbling into a bare bush almost falling on my face.

  “Calm down,” I tell myself, stopping and just closing my eyes as my heartbeat thunders on in my chest. I stand there for what seems like hours as a million thoughts run through my head, opening my eyes to clearer vision and turning my face back down to the pond. Yup, I’m crazy.

  I can’t help my breath catching in my throat at the heavenly sight before me. My shaky hand covers my trembling lips as his white-blue eyes seem to meet mine over the distance, holding me to my spot in that second as he stands on the frozen dock. My whole body is shaking, trembling, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I slap myself, crying out loud as I realize I’m not dreaming.

  My legs start to move on their own as my snow leopard spurs me forward, purring and mewing at the scent and sight of her once lost mate. The snow is knee deep as I try to race toward his moonlit form and my hysteric sobbing picks up when I see him racing toward me as well. My chest feels as if it is splitting open from my heart racing and I give into my leopards will, shifting in mid stride to my animal form and gliding over the snow towards him.

  My Penton, I can’t help but scream in my head as I get closer. I hear his heartbeat and breathing on the wind, mingling with his scent, and when I’m a stone’s throw away, I leap into the air, shifting back to human and colliding with his chest, sending us both to the snow as his strong arms wrap around me.

  I’m on top of him, my hands roaming his bare body as I look at him. He’s not saying anything, just laughing lightly as my cold fingers roll over his skin, making his muscles bunch and I dig my nails into his sides, making his breath catch in his throat. “Are you real?” I ask, out of breath.