Heroes Among Us: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Ditter Kellen

  Lightning exploded nearby, illuminating the sky in bright, white streaks. Thunder boomed, and the wind whipped the rain around in circles of blinding sheets of precipitation that stung the beast’s eyes. Still, he ran.

  A powerful feeling entered his chest, a burning sensation that ripped another howl from him. The feel of a band tightening around his head caused his steps to falter. He had crossed onto the Voodoo queen’s property.

  Kash roared. The sound ricocheting off the surrounding trees would no doubt be heard for miles. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him in that moment but finding Charlie. He had let his lust for the blonde sway his judgement, and in return, put Mauve’s life in danger. If something happened to Mauve because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, Kash would never forgive himself.

  Grinding his teeth in fury, Kash stumbled back several steps until he could breathe once again. He glanced down at his extended claws, his bare feet, and massive chest. There was no creature on earth more powerful than a Rougarou; nor had there ever been as far as he knew. If anyone could find a way around Celia’s magic, Kash could.

  He mentally assessed the situation, deciding to skirt the property and come around by a side road approximately three miles east of him. Hopefully, he would have a clear view of the house from there…and Charlie.

  Kash wiped the water from his eyes and ran. If he could make it to that side road ahead of Charlie, he had a chance of stopping her from entering Celia’s domain.

  Ten minutes later, Kash burst through the trees, the narrow clay road, fully in view. He stood amidst the storm, squinting his eyes against the blistering rain for any sign of Charlie.

  Lightning streaked across the sky, revealing her small SUV crossing a dilapidated bridge in the distance.

  A growl rose up in his throat; he half expected the bridge to give way beneath her. She somehow made it to the other side in one piece.

  The wind suddenly stilled, giving way to golf ball-sized chunks of hail. Tornadoes were nearby.

  Damn her, Kash mentally snarled. Charlie was not only on the Voodoo queen’s property, but she now faced the possibility of being in the path of a tornado. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  ***

  Charlie’s heart hammered wildly as the outline of a small shack came into view amidst the pouring rain. A dim yellow light burned on the porch, accenting the racks of Mason jars positioned next to the door. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Trudy fidgeted in her seat. “I wish I were.”

  “Are we really going in there?” Charlie couldn’t look away from that shack.

  “We have to. My mama’s inside.”

  Charlie switched off the engine and gripped her door handle. She had no choice but to play out the scenario laid before her. She could back out of that drive, and not only die within a couple months, but she would also risk the life of Trudy’s mother. No, Charlie would ride this ride until the end. “I must be crazy.” She opened the door and got out.

  Trudy followed suit. “We have to hurry. There’s a tornado coming.”

  Another round of fear assailed Charlie. “A tornado?”

  Pointing to the east, Trudy rushed out, “You hear that?” At Charlie’s nod, she continued, “It’s damn sure not a train.”

  That was all the explanation Charlie needed. She’d much rather face what lay on the other side of that shack door than to stand around outside and wait to be swallowed up by a tornado. “Let’s go.”

  Trudy hurried up to the porch with Charlie tight on her heels. She hesitated for a brief second and then lifted her hand to knock. The door creaked open before her knuckles touched the surface.

  An older version of Trudy came barreling out. She grabbed Trudy by the arm, dragged her from the porch, and disappeared into the storm.

  Charlie wasn’t about to stay behind to find out what had terrified the woman into running off in the middle of a tornado. She turned to follow.

  “Charlene Howard,” a raspy voice called from the belly of the shack. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Like a scene from a Stephen King movie, Charlie slowly turned back to the darkened doorway. She wasn’t sure what drove her to take that step toward the interior of that shack, she only knew that she couldn’t stop herself if she tried.

  Charlie’s eyes quickly grew accustomed to the dimly lit room. Dozens of jars rested on shelves along the walls. Some were small and colored, while others, large and full of unidentifiable liquids. And there, standing in front of a makeshift fireplace, stood a short, hunched over figure with a hood over her head.

  “Close the door, girl.”

  With trembling hands, Charlie gripped the knob and eased the door shut. “I…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m here because—”

  “I know why you’re here. Come closer, my eyes are not what they used to be.”

  It took considerable effort for Charlie to put one foot in front of the other, but that’s exactly what she did. She’d come this far, she wasn’t about to back out now.

  Celia pushed the hood of her cloak back.

  Okay, so maybe Charlie would back out. Celia’s black eyes peered at her from beneath saggy eyelids, reminding Charlie of a crow she’d seen outside her window a child.

  Piercing and glittering, Celia’s eyes seemed to look right through her. “You haven’t long left to live. Even now, the cancer eats away at your brain.”

  Tears threatened. Charlie took a steadying breath and straightened her shoulders. “Can you help me or not? I have money…I can pay.”

  “Your money means nothing to me.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  Celia turned to stoke the fire burning behind her. “The blood of a Rougarou.”

  Charlie couldn’t have heard her right. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You bring me the blood of Mauve LeRoux, and in return, I will give you back your life.”

  The room tilted beneath Charlie’s feet. “Kash’s grandmother?”

  Celia ambled over and pressed her nose against Charlie’s chest. She sniffed at her, dragging her nose along Charlie’s body before taking a step back. “You have lain with Kash LeRoux. I can smell him on you.”

  Charlie staggered back, putting some distance between her and the old lady. How the hell could Celia smell Kash on her? She’d showered before leaving the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Celia’s knowing gaze locked with Charlie’s. “Mauve is not his grandmother. She is his maker.”

  “You know what?” Charlie bit out, turning to go. “You’re insane. Clearly I made a mistake in coming here.” She reached for the doorknob only to encounter the old woman instead. How had she moved so fast?

  Celia reached up and touched her fingers to Charlie’s forehead. The pain she’d experienced since leaving the restaurant immediately disappeared. Charlie nearly sagged in relief. But no matter how much better she felt, she couldn’t kill Kash’s grandmother.

  “I did not ask you to take her life,” Celia rasped, obviously knowing Charlie’s thoughts. “A small amount of her blood will suffice.”

  Charlie exhaled a shaky breath, still reeling from the fact that Celia had removed her pain. Not to mention, the old woman actually believed Kash’s grandmother was a werewolf.

  “Mauve’s mate was killed in an explosion back in 1921.” Celia went on to explain, “Mauve remained the only Rougarou in these parts until thirty-two years ago when she rescued a boy from the swamps of Saint Malo. Her blood now flows through his veins.”

  “Kash,” Charlie breathed, a shudder passing through her body. As bizarre as the story sounded, Charlie somehow knew the old woman spoke the truth.

  A memory suddenly surfaced; one of a shirtless Kash appearing at her back door shortly after the howling Charlie had heard in that swamp. He’d claimed his shirt and shoes were out on her dock. Another memory appeared. This time of Kash inside her body, the golden hue of his eyes swirling in the darkness
as he penetrated her again and again.

  Charlie covered her mouth with her hand, horrified and more than a little stunned.

  “Now you understand.” Celia took hold of Charlie’s other hand and guided her over to the fire. “Sit, and I will tell you all.”

  Unable to wrap her mind around everything she’d been told, Charlie allowed Celia to lead her across the room to an old wooden chair. She sat and blinked up at the Voodoo priestess. “This can’t be happening.”

  “It isn’t happening yet, Charlene Howard, but it will.”

  Charlie listened in numb disbelief as Celia weaved her tale of Kash’s existence. Not even the roar of the tornado in the distance could pull Charlie from her trance. Kash LeRoux was a werewolf; a Rougarou who dwelled in the swamps of Louisiana. And Charlie had given herself to him.

  “One vial of a Rougarou’s blood is all I need. And in return, I will destroy the sickness that eats away at your body.”

  Clasping her hands in front of her, Charlie faced the Voodoo priestess. “Why can’t you get the blood yourself?”

  The jars along the walls began to rattle as Celia’s gaze snapped up to meet Charlie’s. “Don’t you think I have tried? I cannot cross onto their lands any more than they can cross onto mine. Now go, for you are wasting time…time, I might add, that you don’t have an abundance of.”

  Charlie rose unsteadily to her feet. She had no clue how she was supposed to get Mauve’s blood.

  “Kash’s blood will work also. He is not as old as Mauve, but he is strong.”

  Making her way to the door, Charlie rested her hand on the knob and glanced at Celia over her shoulder. “How the hell am I supposed to pull this off?”

  Celia reached into the pocket of her cloak, tugged two small vials free and handed them to Charlie. “Give him a few drops of this.” She held up the smaller vial. “It will cause him to sleep for a short time. Long enough for you to get what I need and get out.”

  Charlie accepted the vials, and pulled the door open. “What’s the other one for?”

  “The blood.”

  With the wind howling outside, Charlie numbly stepped onto the porch. “I’ll be back.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kash prowled restlessly along the property line of Celia’s place. Charlie had been inside that shack for the past twenty minutes without emerging.

  Mauve had been right about Charlie all along, and Kash should have killed her when he had the chance.

  The door to that shack opened and Charlie stepped out. Relief slammed into Kash with enough force, he had to bite back a moan.

  Why the hell did he care that she still lived? She was consorting with the enemy; the Voodoo priestess, Celia Battiste.

  He waited for her to get back in the SUV and back out of the drive before breaking into a run to cut her off at the pass. Kash would overtake her the minute she reached the clay road.

  A roar ripped from his chest as she practically drifted sideways onto the outbound road. She didn’t stop or even slow.

  Damn her, he silently seethed, running in the direction of her taillights. She had used him. The only comfort Kash had was in the knowledge that Charlie had no idea that he was onto her. He would play it cool until he got her alone. And he would get her alone, of that, he had no doubt.

  ***

  Kash arrived back at the Bickford house to find that Charlie hadn’t returned. He moved behind the shrubs, allowing the shift to take hold. He plucked up his shirt, pulled it on and then dragged on his boots.

  The wind had steadily picked up, along with more bands of rain. The storm had officially made landfall.

  He jogged around behind the house and boarded his boat. He would drive up the bayou and into town. Charlie had obviously returned there.

  Mauve’s words haunted Kash as he sped through the swamp, fighting to control his boat from the wind whipping through the trees. Why hadn’t he listened? Mauve had never steered him wrong in the thirty-two years he’d been with her. Yet all it had taken was a pair of sky-blue eyes and a heart-stopping kiss to screw up his logic. Well, never again. Kash would destroy Charlene Howard if it was the last thing he ever did.

  Rounding the next bend, Kash noticed Charlie’s SUV parked out front of Rhett’s Country Kitchen. Trees were down near the building, twisted at the base like pretzels. Part of the roof lay a good distance away, and two vehicles were mangled together at the edge of the water. A tornado had obviously come through.

  Kash tied off his boat and jumped to the shore. He held his arm up over his eyes in an effort to shield some of the wind and rushed across the small parking lot. He yanked the door open to the restaurant.

  Several people lay on the floor, moaning in pain. Some were bloodied while others simply looked dazed. And in the midst of it all stood Charlie, barking out orders and helping those in need.

  “I need more towels over here,” she demanded, dropping to her knees next to an elderly man.

  Kash watched her lean over the man, speaking to him on a soothing, yet confident tone. “The ambulance is on the way, Mister…?”

  “Watson,” he wheezed, his face pale and drawn.

  “We’ll get you fixed right up, Mister Watson. Don’t you worry.”

  Flagging a waitress over, Charlie nodded toward the old man’s arm. “I need you to hold pressure on this for me. Can you do that?”

  The waitress dropped to her knees next to Mister Watson and wrapped a towel around a gaping gash on his forearm.

  Charlie pushed to her feet, her gaze landing on Kash who stood next to the door in more than a little confusion. How could Charlie consort with the Voodoo queen one minute and risk her life to run in a building during a storm and help the wounded?

  “Are you just going to stand there?” she snapped, jerking Kash out of his shocked state. “I could use your help.”

  Kash did as she asked, stepping inside to assess the situation. He stopped next to her side, instantly inhaling her sweet, intoxicating scent.

  He bit back an angry retort, instead asking, “What do you need me to do?”

  And so it went. The next half hour was spent with Kash glued to Charlie’s side, lending a hand, holding someone down while she commanded the room like a seasoned general.

  Kash had never seen anything as incredible as Charlene Howard in action. She slowed blood flow, pulled glass from open gashes and bandaged what she could until the medics arrived.

  He clenched his jaw, angry at himself for thinking of her in any way other than with disdain. He would have plenty of time later to show her contempt. “Come on, let’s go get you out of here.”

  She exhaled rather loudly and wiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “Are the roads safe right now?”

  “This building isn’t safe,” Kash argued. “Come on, I’ll take you to my place. I have a storm shelter.”

  Indecision flashed in Charlie’s eyes. She took one last look at the paramedics now moving about before giving Cash a nod. “Let’s go.”

  Once outside, Kash shielded her from the wind and guided her toward his boat.

  She dug in her heels. “We can’t take a boat in this storm. Are you crazy?”

  Left with little choice, Kash jerked her against his body, covered her mouth with his hand, and pressed two fingers beneath her jaw, near her ear. He pushed up, holding enough pressure that Charlie lost consciousness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charlie rolled to her side, squinting into the darkness with more than a little confusion. The last thing she recalled was racing into the restaurant that had been hit by a tornado.

  Pain shot through her skull, eliciting a moan from her. Her migraine had returned.

  She gingerly sat up, holding her hands out in front of her as she got to her feet. And then it hit her; she’d been attacked by Kash.

  “Help! Someone please help me!”

  A door opened ahead, sending a sliver a light into the room.

  Charlie blinked, holding a hand up in front of her fac
e. “Who’s there?”

  A large shadow darkened the door before Kash’s face came into view. A lantern dangled from his fingers, swinging from side to side as he moved.

  He stopped in front of her, lifting the light high above his head. “Save your energy. No one will hear you.”

  “Where am I?” But she knew. She remembered Kash’s hand covering her mouth, the pressure beneath her jaw. She also recalled his mention of a storm shelter.

  Kash set the lantern on a shelf. “You’re in Saint Malo, in my basement.”

  “But…why?”

  “You tell me, Charlie.”

  Celia’s words flashed through her mind; the tale of the Rougarou, Mauve…the blood. “You’re a werewolf.”

  The golden color of his eyes swirled in the dim light of the lantern. “I saw you at the Voodoo queen’s. How long have you known Celia Battiste?”

  Kash hadn’t denied her accusation. In fact, he didn’t seem surprised by it all. Charlie forced her fear aside. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “It wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement. But yes, I am cursed, as is Mauve, and her mother before her. Is that what you wanted to hear? Now, how long have you known the Voodoo priestess?”

  Charlie staggered back a step. “I only met her once, and that was right before the tornado hit. How is it possible that werewolves exist?”

  “Do you believe in God, Charlie?”

  “What?” After everything she’d learned today, he really wanted to discuss religion?

  He took a step forward, forcing her legs to bump into the cot she’d been sleeping on. “Just answer the question.”

  “Yes…no…hell, I don’t know. Maybe? What does that have to do with anything?”

  Kash stared down at her for long moments before answering. “It’s so easy for the world to believe in a God they’ve never seen. Angels, devils, demons and witches. But their minds are quick to rebel against werewolves and vampires.”

  Charlie’s mouth dropped open. “There are actually vampires walking the earth?”