Rage Against the Devil (Wild Beasts Series Book 2)

by T. Birmingham

  When he’d spent the summer with Alexia, she’d been reading the human Histories, some of the ancient works, and he’d loved her geeky speak…

  “I don’t want you to go,” Alexia whispered, laying in his bed after the first time they’d had sex. He’d been quiet, trying to give her time. Really, he’d wanted to be inside of her again, feeling her around him. Fuck, but she’d been beautiful, better than he’d ever imagined.

  He looked into her red eyes, and saw the sheen of tears, and he wanted to give her everything, but he knew this summer would be all they’d ever have. He’d fucked up. But he was okay with his fuck-up, because even just a moment in time with Alexia would be enough.

  “They call it a terrible beauty, you know?” she asked, not meeting his eyes, and running her finger in circles along his chest.

  “What? What do they call a terrible beauty?”

  “The poets,” Alexia said shyly, ducking her head. “They call war a terrible beauty. Something men and women cannot help but go to, but that in the end is the worst tragedy. Terrible. A strong word for something that is, in the same breath, called something beautiful.”

  He kept silent because a part of him wanted to laugh at her poetry, but another part of him agreed. He really just wanted to go and blow things up, defeat the bad guys, serve his country, make his parents and everyone proud. So, terrible…sure. But, beautiful…fuck, yeah.

  “You don’t see it,” Alexia said. “You don’t see it, but I do. Bad things will happen.” Her voice rang like an omen, but he’d brushed off the chill.

  “No.” Kai’s voice shuddered through the memory. “No, listening to her wouldn’t have changed things.”

  “Don’t,” Nicky said. “Just don’t. I fucked up. I’m okay with taking the blame. I’ve always been okay with taking the blame for my fuck-ups.”

  “Yeah, well,” Kai said bitterly, “not listening now would be another fuck-up, so listen, asshole.”

  Nicky looked over to his brother, who still stood in the middle of the small front room. His back to the old television set covered in books and newspapers neatly stacked by Mally’s hand, he supposed. Graham had never been much good at cleaning.

  “Still isn’t,” Mally said from his side as she continued to lean into Graham.

  His little brother was waiting. His little brother who was dead. His little brother who had joined him in Afghanistan and been blown up. His little brother who’d been lost to him. His little brother who should blame him, since it was Nicky’s bomb tech that had been stolen. His bomb tech that had been put together by insurgents. His bomb tech that had killed his flesh and blood. His bomb technology. Of course, his parents and sister didn’t know that. But if they did…if they knew that it had been Nicky who’d killed Kai, they might feel differently about wanting to see him, about wanting him back.

  The old him had been a gun toting, engineering-trained bomb expert who’d loved blowing things up, and now he couldn’t even be around a firework without ducking for cover. War fucked a person up bad, and Nicky was no exception.

  “We seriously gonna whine and cry about this forever, bro?” Kai asked as he sat down on the arm of the recliner. “Seriously. Fuck, man. Since when did you become such a fucking martyr? Hiding out. In the fucking woods. Without a fucking cell phone. And no women. Jesus, bro.” Kai smirked and it was so much like Nicky’s own that he wanted to curse fate that he had lived and his brother had died.

  “Someone seriously get this guy a pacifier. Fucking baby.” Kai moved quickly in front of him, a fearful apparition with power, and Nicky felt the otherworldly force his brother now held. “Wake. The. Fuck. Up. Asshole. You are not to blame. You made the tech, but the insurgents would have collected it off anyone. Stop being the asshat who whines his way through eternity. You were just thinking out there, in the desert of your fucked up mind that you wanted to be less selfish.” Kai punched him in the arm. “Well, here is your moment, fucker.” He punched Nicky again, and Nicky’s brotherly instincts rose to the fore. He really wanted to kick Kai’s ass. “Stop being a whiny bitch, and grow a pair, douchebag.”

  “Whiny bitch?” Nicky asked, his anger growing as he pushed back at his brother. “You want to talk whiny bitch? Who the fuck walked away from camp that night to fuck some local girl he met, Kai? Who the fuck snuck away for an hour when he should have been doing any goddamned other thing than fucking that local girl and getting himself fucking killed by insurgents? Huh, Kai? What fucking idiot was that? What fucking idiot was so god—” Nicky choked on the emotion in his throat, but blundered through, letting his anger fly. “So g-g-goddamned fucking stupid.” He raged, wiping the tears from his eyes. “That he went and got himself blown up, leaving me with this shit rolling around in me? This guilt? This burden? Jesus. Fucking. Christ, Kai…” Nicky fell onto the edge of the couch arm, his elbows resting on each thigh as he breathed through the pain.

  And then…

  Yes, then…

  He cried for the fourth time in his adult life.

  “Shit, Kai. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  Nicky felt his brother sit on the couch cushion next to the arm he had squatted on.

  “Yea, bro. Totally.”

  Nicky laughed a watery laugh. “It’s not two thousand and twelve, and you are not a surfer.”

  “No,” Kai said, giving him a smile, “but that would be cool, bro.”

  Nicky laughed again, and it felt lighter, even lighter than the changes he’d been experiencing on Earth.

  “I’m sorry, Kai—”

  “No need, big brother.” Kai stood up, ruffling Nicky’s growing hair. “You’re right… Kind of,” he added. “Freya wasn’t just some girl, though. She was my mate, my fated mate. And I wasn’t fucking her that night. I was making plans with Graham here to have her brought to Dunham. She’s human, or she was human. Her soul is tied to mine still. She’s been going through some changes.”

  “You’re mated?”

  “Yeah, big brother.” Kai slapped him on the back and moved to the window that looked out of the front porch. “Beat ‘ya to it,” the little asshole said, smiling, and Nicky felt a pang in his chest.

  Kai would never be with his mate, and now Nicky would never be with his.

  Their family was well and truly cursed.

  “Cursed? Hell, we’ve had some shit thrown at us, but it’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings’, am I right?” It seemed ‘over’ to Nicky. Kai shook his head. “There’s that whiny shit again. What happened to the old Nicky? The goofball? The guy who took chances? The reckless kid who went after the woman he’d always loved, even though he knew he’d only have that one chance?” Kai squatted in front of him, and Nicky hated the implication that he needed to be talked to like a child. He was almost thirty years old.

  “Almost thirty years old, and still a young pup,” Graham stated from his seat on the other couch as he pulled Mally onto his lap.

  “Fuck you, Graham,” Nicky said, mildly. He was out of anger. “And saying we’re cursed isn’t whiny shit, Kai. It’s the truth.”

  “You talking about our shift?” Kai asked. “Shit, that’s not curse. It’s the one reason your heart’s still beating. Our ancestry is the only reason you’ve even got a chance to save that woman of yours.”

  Nicky did a double take, turning first to Mally and Graham and then back to his brother.

  “What do you mean?” He had felt the pain of death. He’d reached out into the dark. Hell, was talking to the dead. He was in the fucking Afterworld. How had their ancestry saved him, and how was his heart still beating?

  “The Histories, Nicky,” Graham said. When Nicky continued to stare blankly, Graham sighed with exasperation. “Your lessons. What do the Histories say?”

  Nicky thought back to the Histories and what he’d learned of the curse. “The Clan Histories–”

  “No, Nicholas.” Graham’s voice had risen, and Nicky couldn’t help but smile at his mentor’s irritation, because this was Graham. A warr
ior, yes. But when it came to research, he was just as focused and determined on the task. “I’m talking of the hidden Histories. I’m talking of this.”

  Graham stood abruptly, setting Mally off to the side, and headed into the cabinet under the stairs where he kept some of his history books. He walked briskly back, a thoughtful look in place, and gently gave a large tome to Nicky’s, a tome that easily weighed twenty pounds.

  The title read: Compendium scientiarum: English Translation (Compendium of all Knowledge).

  Graham quickly sifted through the pages and pointed to the page Nicky should read.

  Nicky started to read the story, skimming as he went.

  Thousands of years ago, the Skröm broke off from the Clans, falling into a pattern of gluttony and savagery that terrified the normally peaceful Light Clans. The Light Clans had only seen such savagery in the Others, and they feared that the Clans chosen favor with the gods would soon be at an end, so they consulted with the gods. And instead of sending their strongest or most cunning, the gods sent Titania, the Queen of the Veil and of the Fae, a goddess in her own right who was over four thousand years old.

  Despite the fact that she was known to be a protector of humans, Others, and Clan alike, as an Other, she was looked down upon by the Clans. The Clans saw the Others as pure Darkness. Created from the Darkness and the evil of the Earth. Some even thought Titania was that Darkness, as the daughter of Morrigan. Some said Hades was the Darkness. Still, many Clan members thought the Darkness was the lack of a soul, an emptiness of spirit and a loss of favor with the gods.

  But, according to the gods, Titania was the Clans only hope for stemming the Darkness that had spread throughout their ranks.

  The goddess walked cautiously through the great hall where the Clans held court. Four Clans. The Luna. The Taryn. The Azima. And the Skröm.

  When she finally met with the Councilors of the time, including the Skröm leader, she recommended a solution that would likely have worked had the Clans not let fear rule them.

  The ritual was of a different sort. Not at all what the dignified Clans were used to. Titania would mate with a Clan member to produce a new Clan.

  Instead of following the original plan, however, the Clan leaders for the Taryn, the Azima, and the Skröm consulted another – a tradeswoman who had gained favor with their people, although also a woman of great power and one who was Other. But they chose the enemy they knew and one who had brought them many riches over the years. Little did they know the tradeswoman, the Other, was of the Veil, a Fae woman herself, and one who could shift forms at will. This ability was a part of the fifth, and most rare, gift of the Fae – Blood and Bone.

  The Luna, in contrast to the other Clans, were very in touch with their animal counterparts and in tune with nature and the gods, and they knew they could trust Titania. And Titania, although still very much in love with her once fated mate, Lycan, grew to love the Luna Clan leader, Gaelan, a wolf himself just as one of Lycan’s forms had been a wolf. Gaelan was, in fact, the only Luna to ever take on the form of a wolf.

  Together, they made the beautiful Calliope. She was everything her parents were. Tall, regal, darker olive-toned skin like her mother, warm brown eyes that shifted gold like her father’s wolf, strong, full of steadfastness and loyalty. But because of her mother, she was considered Other.

  The idea was that the power of a god combined with the purity of Gaelan’s animal spirit would provide a new breed of Clan that was Light. A Clan that would be a mediator between the Skröm and the three other Clans, but also a Clan strong enough to defeat the Skröm should any member step out of line and fall into the Darkness. But Calliope was unable to touch the other Clan members without igniting sparks. She was not the Light they needed.

  Titania had known this might happen, had in fact discussed with Gaelan many times that this process would take time. But when Gaelan and Titania spoke with the Clans, they were angered that another mating would need to take place. The Clans felt it was bad enough that Titania had mated to Gaelan, but to continue with a second mating, this time of Calliope to a Light Clan member.

  But what had been set in motion could not be undone. And Calliope would have her mate. Not a fated mate, no, but still she loved. The Clan member who became her mate was a Skröm/Taryn hybrid named Aiden. A Skröm male so vicious, most had written him off as lost to the Darkness. But Calliope knew better. She saw his Darkness and she saw his Light as well, and she loved him. And together they gave birth to twins. A male and a female. The female was dark skinned with light eyes and named Nivea, while her twin brother was named Vuković. He had lighter features, but his eyes were dark pools of brown that seemed to probe even the darkest of souls. So much like his father in demeanor.

  As he’d read, Nicky realized he had read all of this before. The hidden and probably mythical history of his people’s creation. He glanced up and met Graham’s bright brown eyes.

  “Keep reading,” Graham said, his voice solemn, wise, and still tinged with a small amount of excitement. “There’s a part you’ve forgotten.”

  One late night, while the hall was asleep, the three conspiring Clans and the female Other they had brought in on their plans stole the male twin, Vuković, a Luna wolf, believing he was the strongest because he was male. He was fifteen at the time. They forced his mating with each of the Clans, and even the female tradeswoman mated with the young wolf while in wolf form herself, trickster that she was.

  And so, the Vuković were formed by the mating of a female Azima Clan member to the young Vuković, whose lineage was already part Luna, part Other, part Skröm, and part Taryn.

  The female Other, however, produced no heir in her wolfen or Other form, but it was not for lack of trying. Her torture of the young pup was the worst. And when she did not become pregnant, she left her mark on the young Clan member, singeing his skin with her own family crest of a wolf with the words, “Der Schurke der eingefängt,” which was German for: The Rogue, who traps.

  Vuković himself died not long after his torture, and all that was found of him was bits and pieces in the cell where he had been kept. But before he died, he was able to get a message to his twin, Nivea, warning her of the Clan’s treachery and hoping against hope that they did not treat her in the same way.

  Nivea shared the information with her parents, Calliope and Aiden, and with her grandparents, Titania and Gaelan, and the four elders hid her away with a group of humans on a remote continent. This continent went another three thousand years without being truly conquered or discovered, but in that time, Nivea’s heirs grew only by one. After the invasion of the Clans and the European countries, though, this one descendant was discovered by the invading Clans when the Europeans claimed the Americas.

  Clara Arviso.

  Nivea and her mate, Otera, were together for over three thousand years when they died at the hands of the invaders in an act of sacrifice for their people, while Clara was secreted away to what are now the Adirondack Mountains.

  It is said that Nivea’s people have none of the weaknesses of the Others, nor of the Clans, which now included her brother, Vuković’s, descendants.

  Because Nivea had been born of the Clan and the Goddess, her line was neither Light nor Dark. They were pure wolves, but nature demanded balance. So, while Nivea was said to have survived poisons from the Clans, the humans, and the Others, Nivea and her daughter, Clara, and anyone in their line who took on the form of the wolf, would be cursed to feel the pain of their animal, because Nivea’s line did not have the magic of the Azima in their blood as the Vuković did.

  Historical note: Much of this history has been written according to Nivea’s own journals which have since been lost.

  Nicky thought on the Histories. There was no proof, and Nivea’s journals really were lost, as the historian had noted. Graham had looked. Nicky had looked. Did that mean that Clara’s tale, his mother’s tale, was untrue? He loved his mother, loved her more than anything, but she tended to believe her
own mother was this powerful, infallible heroine. No one was that infallible. And no one was that immune.

  “You think I can survive my mate’s poison because of this crudely written history?” Nicky asked incredulously.

  “Crudely written, maybe, but other than the memories of your mother, Clara, and your father, John, this is all we have. You and your sister are Vuković in strength and power, but despite your rather harsh shifts, you are unique. You are the wolf. They are your counterpart in a way that is natural, and your power, when it has been tested, is beyond anything I’ve seen in your garden variety Vuković.”

  Nicky looked around the room, and he wanted to believe them. He wanted just a smidgen of hope. And yet, above all he was pragmatic. “But I’m dead, Graham. I felt it. Shit. Beyond feeling it, I’m here. That should be your first clue that your theory has a few rather obvious holes in it.”

  “Your body is resting. You are in an In Between. A place between your plane and the Afterworld.”

  Nicky didn’t let the hope take hold right away, but he felt the truth in Graham’s words. Felt the serenity of the moment as he realized he could go back.

  Then, the reality of what his mate had done slammed into him.

  “She can be saved,” Mally said. “You felt that, Nicky. You felt her coldness slip for a second before she poisoned you. That’s the part you need to reach.”

  “And what the fuck part is that? She’s Fae, and now she’s full on fucking Fae.”

  “And what do you think Titania was? A fairy princess?” Mally asked. “She was the Queen of the Veil until her mysterious disappearance almost four thousand years ago at the hands of a female Fae who had the gift of Blood and Bone. Because this woman had the gift of Blood and Bone, she was able to take on the guise of her lover and killed Titania, as the Histories say.” Mally shook her head, and Nicky saw that she felt for Titania. Who wouldn’t? The woman had lost a great deal. “But Titania was not a fairy princess. She was Fae. The rarest of Fae. She had every one of the five gifts: Moon, Sky, Sun, Swords, and Blood and Bone. She and the other Fae were created by her mother, Morrigan, after a tremendous battle eight thousand years ago. But Morrigan… Morrigan’s power was even greater than Titania’s. She was the goddess of Stone. She could create and destroy, but Morrigan was always one to create when she could. The Veil was made to protect her people, who she’d created, a history for another time, but Morrigan’s daughter, Titania, followed closely in her mother’s footsteps. Although cold and withdrawn because of the loss of her mate, Lycan, she still tried to be of use, still tried to create, as her mother had always taught her. Titania helped create a new race to assist the Clans in overcoming the Skröm’s Darkness.” Mally paused and gave Nicky a meaningful look. “There has never been a Fae of Stone. There has only ever been a goddess of Stone, and Morrigan had the power to create and to destroy.”