Behind Savanah, a cyclone of black dust caught Ethan’s eye as it gelled into a figure. The air pressure seemed to expand then shrink. His ears popped. Woodchips and sawdust filled the air. All the horses became restless; grunting and shuffling in their stalls. Out of the dust storm, a tall man with a deep olive completion and bristle-short, black hair emerged.
Ethan sat back on his haunches. I knew I shouldn’t have asked if this night could get any crazier! Ethan held a paw to Savanah. “You might want to turn around.”
The stranger brushed past Savanah to Ethan, and dug his long thin fingers into his fur. “Ethan, dude, you’ve looked better. I knew you were into bondage, but this is different even for you. I didn’t know you were into putting on shows for crowds.”
Ethan noticed Savanah’s posture stiffen and if looks could kill, he thought he really might die tonight. Little possessive there, Pippy?
Savanah’s snow-white complexion went green as a little thing called jealousy chewed through her epithelial cells. She didn’t like the idea of Ethan being bonded with anyone, man or woman if it wasn’t her. Visions of him handcuffed in silk restraints and being used as a sex toy bombarded her brain. Sometimes her imagination was her worst enemy. She couldn’t help the hurtful look she shot him. And to add insult to injury her conscience began giving her grief. Part of her wanted the lying, would-be kidnapper with ties to the one family they never wanted to see again gone. But her hormone’s conscience? Is there such a thing? She wondered. Each and every little wanton cell wanted the blond wolf/man to stimulate them. Just thinking of Ethan left a burning, licentious, desire scorching a path directly between her thighs. She attempted to reason with herself the damned man came here to kidnap a child her aunt supposedly birthed. What if Raven had the baby and he’d succeeded? Confusion reigned control between her head and her heart. Every instinct said this man would be the end to one-hundred-thirteen year drought, also known as her loveless life. God, I know how to pick them.
“Pip, you all right? You’re looking a bit off color.” Ethan asked his voice calm and soothing, sincere.
Oh, I wish he’d stop calling me that. Savanah crossed her arms, confused. Could he be genuine with his interest? Or is this just a new angle?
Ethan glanced upward. “Sorry, Pip, but the name suits you. Really, you okay?”
An epiphany hit them. Both gasped in unison as they locked eyes, realizing privacy just became a thing of the past. Savanah’s hand flew to her mouth but, “Oh shit,” flew out regardless.
“Mouth, Savanah,” André warned.
“Sorry, Papa.” Her eyebrows pinched at Ethan she answered, “I’ll be fine, thanks. Anyone remember that Mel Gibson flick where he wore tin foil around his head to block people’s thoughts? I need some. Now!”
“Oh Jesus!” Jovan mumbled.
Ethan howled with laughter. “I was thinking the—”
“I know. This can’t be—”
“But it is, Pip. Deal with it. Vonnie? Were you the other passenger on my flight? I never did check the second box I brought over.”
“No, Eth. Been in town a while on business,” the man answered, stalking Raven with his eyes.
“Donovan?” Raven barely got his name out. She turned to see if Jonah and Payton were near.
André rubbed his eyes. “Donovan, as in the old guard at our estate in England last century? We haven’t heard hide nor hair of you in a lifetime, literally.”
“Hello, Ray, André,” Donovan bowed before André showing an old respect for the man that came within minutes from being crowned King. “Jules, Jovan.” Donovan waved. “You two look the same. Savanah? Is that you? Wow! You grew up. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Savanah fought a scowl. Every bone in her body screamed foul play. All that was missing was the spooky music that usually played when the nemesis entered a movie scene. Her family had all their negativities focused on the wrong guy. Ethan couldn’t hurt a fly. This new guy looked like he sprinkled them on his morning cereal and ate them in place of granola.
“Hey—hold up. How come he can say you’re beautiful but if I say she is,” Ethan asked pointing a paw toward Savanah, “I get grief.”
“Because we like him.” Jovan bit back. “And stay the hell away from my daughter.”
Ethan glanced back toward Savanah. Not on your life.
Savanah fanned her cheeks.
Chapter Four
“Always the charmer, Eth.” Donovan turned to face the crowd. “You’re a tough lot to track down. Your sister-in-law’s birthing experience made national news. Raven, I felt a biting need to see you again. That little run in we had over the Christmas season wasn’t enough to hold me over for another hundred years.”
Donovan laughed, but it lacked that warm friendly sonance. Savanah found nothing attractive about it or the man. Matter of fact, her sixth sense was trying to get the other five to listen. Without thinking twice she moved closer to Ethan.
Raven mumbled, “This is awkward.”
“Actually, Belle, I’d like to know why you never mentioned seeing him.” Jonah didn’t sound the least bit friendly as he, Payton and Molly entered the stables.
Payton added, “I’d like to know why you don’t seem at all surprised to see him. He should have by all rights been dead, say nineteen seventy, and I’m being generous letting him live to be one hundred. Donovan, you look rather fit for your age.”
“So do you, Dough boy,” Donovan chided. “How’s that whole werewolf lifestyle working for you?”
Payton squared his shoulders toward the taller man. “I’ll let ya know firsthand the next full moon.” Payton licked his lips.
“You’re quiet, Jonah,” Donovan prompted.
“Ever hear the saying keeping your mouth closed keeps the flies in and the shit out? I don’t feel like feeding you right now, Vonnie.” Sarcasm all but dripped from Jonah’s lips.
“Enough,” Raven snapped, “Can we deal with the mutt who wanted to kidnap me and my make-believe child first?”
“Raven, he’s not going anywhere.” Jonah answered. “Neither are we.”
“What makes you think I can’t get out of here?” Ethan barked back through his muzzle. “Just watch me!”
André screamed and the room shook. “Later, I agree with my sister. Let’s deal with our new pet first.” Almost everyone shut up
“Oh, I’m so not your pet.” The blond wolf panted, his tail nestled between his legs.
André’s look said otherwise. His gaze stymied Ethan better than an anvil. “You will be whatever I want you to be. Or stuffed and mounted in our trophy room.”
“Or stuffed and mounted in my trophy room,” Ethan mimicked.
André took a step toward Ethan when Savanah got between them, her hands on her father’s shoulders to stop his progression.
“I have a question first, Papa.”
“Thanks, Pip.” Ethan added just before she did a backwards kick and clipped his breastbone. “Thanks a lot,” came out in a gasp.
“How is it that a man that used to guard you now knows him?” Savanah pointed between Donovan and Ethan.
Ethan volunteered, “We had a bet to see who would find her first. I won.”
“No you didn’t. I did.” Donovan straightened his posture and gave Raven a brilliant grin.
“Can I shift back without setting off alarms and whistles?” For a few embarrassing moments, Ethan was unable to shift. He grunted, howled, scratched at his tummy, which did nothing, and after two rounds of chasing his tail, nipping his balls, fur still covered him. Frustrated, he asked, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I shift? I’ve never had a problem.”
“Viagra?” Savanah countered.
“Trust me, Pippy, that works. Let me out, and I’ll show you.”
“You can’t change because I don’t want you to. Not yet anyway.” Savanah answered. “Remember the pretty blue concoction you inhaled? That’s one of my specialty charms. It’s a holding spell. The orange gel is truth poti
on.”
“Who the hell are you people? What have you done to me, witch? Don’t even try telling me you hexed my hoodie.”
“Puh-lease—it’s hooded?” Savanah’s gaze dropped directly to the source.
“Only one way to find out.” Ethan rolled on his back and stretched his legs out but kept his paws covering his private tidbits.
Fed up and getting nowhere fast, Savanah tried a new kinder, gentler tactic. “Just tell me all you know, then I’ll release your body.”
Ethan rolled onto his tummy and stretched his hind legs out. “Xanti told the Maestro he fathered a child with you.” Ethan jerked his head toward Raven. “So the story goes the psycho vamp froze his brother’s sperm for a hundred years.”
André looked at Raven. “Lucian beheaded the bastard. We were there. Serina’s got his heart in a canning jar in the Manhattan apartment to prove it.”
“Okay, that’s really sick,” Ethan added.
Donovan asked, “Why?”
“She has a theory if his spawn ever got close to us again the heart would rejuvenate. It’s a metaphysical alarm system.”
“I’m going to be…” Raven darted through the stable doors. Jonah followed on her heels.
Ethan tried to ignore the gut wrenching sounds from outside the stables and the soured aromas of a mixture of blood, coffee and—he inhaled deeply—a Boston cream donut as they whiffed their way into the stable. Days like today he didn’t appreciate the extra senses his wolf offered him. Ethan would never be able to look at another Boston cream donut the same way, ever again. His bones popped, his body shifted, and he shed his hide into one matted down pile of slime and fur. It always reminded him of road-kill after a few trucks had flattened the remains. “I need a pair of pants,” Ethan proclaimed, standing butt naked, his loins covered by his hands.
Julian disappeared and returned with a pair of jeans that easily could have fit Ethan and someone else. In no position to squabble, Ethan said, “Much appreciated,” as he donned them. More than aware he had Savanah’s attention, he flashed her a quick view of his backside as he turned to get his personal parts adjusted. When he turned back, Savanah no longer looked green, but a misty shade of pink.
After Raven and Jonah came back, Jonah asked Ethan, “How long have you been searching for Raven and when did you find her?”
“Hmmm…Xanti found her ah—you,” he pointed to Raven, “in Boston. Some girly store.”
Raven protested, “Wasn’t me.”
“Xanti never came back to the car. He called and told me to pick him up the next morning. Personally, I’d have bet ya a million to one odds that guy didn’t have sex with a woman.”
Raven nodded to Donovan. “You showed up and marked me at the cash register that day.”
Arrogance cloaked Donovan as he stood, arms crossed, chest puffed out, and a smug smirk thinning his lips.
“Did you know Xanti was there?” Raven asked. Anger pulsed behind the question.
Donovan gave a nod yes.
“So you knew, but you didn’t bother letting her family know she was in danger?” Payton took a step toward him.
Jonah grabbed him by the shoulders. “Hold on.”
Donovan answered, “I got to her first. So you can thank me for saving her from that psycho anytime now.”
Raven strut to Donovan with the falsest smile she could muster. She looked him dead into his olive-colored eyes, and placed her fist there as hard as she could. Her vampiric strength careened him across the stables through a wooden gate landing him next to a mare.
Donovan glanced upward to his assailant, his nose misaligned. “Aren’t you a rough little wench?”
“You can go straight back to Hell, Donovan.” To Raven’s chagrin, she turned and left.
“Savanah, Cherié, go with her. We’ll be in just as soon as we can figure out what to do with this mess.” André grabbed Jovan’s hand in passing and kissed her.
Savanah whispered, “Be nice to Ethan, Pops. He may not be the brightest star, but I can feel it in my bones, he’s going to turn my dull life upside down.”
“He’s off to a great start then, isn’t he? Go.” André hugged his daughter hard to him.
“André, may I say something without getting clobbered yet again?”
“Bugger off, Donovan. You knowingly placed our family in jeopardy. You, of all people knew what Raven went through, what Sinclair put her through. That’s the main reason we moved to the states. To get the hell away from his family.” André pulled up a spot on a bench, straw stuck to it better than cat hair to a black wool coat and dropped his head into his hands. “Where the hell’s my brother?”
Donovan offered, “I did it to keep her safe. I knew Xanti wouldn’t get to her. He took some woman who looked like Raven. Xanti has no idea how to use his powers, and he kills without remorse. Just like dear old dad.”
“So this other woman is, in all likelihood the poor mother of the child you were hoping to kidnap, Ethan?” Julian asked.
Ethan went to argue the term kidnap, not at all liking the sound of it. Maestro made it sound so much easier on the ears. Total seduction. Semantics at this point. “Uh, yes.”
André mumbled, “That also means that Xanti may not be as stupid as you make him out, if he was that close to her.”
Julian bent at the waist and got right in Ethan’s face. “You do know, don’t you, that I’m calling the cops tonight and reporting an intruder.”
Julian’s voice cut through Ethan harder than a silver semi-automatic could have. “Dammit, whatever your name is, Uncle Jules. It’s my death sentence. I’ll change in jail on the full moon, and then they’ll skin me alive. Have you seen it on TV? It’s incomprehensible. How can you do that to one of your own?”
Julian closed the distance. “You are not mine. You are not one of my own. You came here with malicious intentions. Buddy, you’re lucky I don’t kill you myself.”
When he was done barking at Ethan, Julian’s saliva dripped from Ethan’s face. Julian walked into his office located at the back of the stables.
“When I don’t come home, Hell’s bells will ring,” Ethan yelled. “You are no longer safe here. In two days’ time this house will be leveled. The Maestro will personally see to it. And I can’t stop it.”
André straightened and crossed his arms. Biceps bulged, biceps Ethan never achieved no matter how many hours he spent at the gym. Yeah, he was in great shape, but this guy could’ve put the movie star gone Governor of California to shame back in the day.
“Ethan, you overestimate your net worth. Everyone is expendable. Guaranteed your Maestro won’t look for you because you will draw undo attention to him. You just became public enemy number one.”
Julian stuck his head out of his office. “The authorities are on their way.”
****
From a sofa in east Tim buck-two, an old man with sparse silver hair, trapped in a skeletal frame caught up on the current plays of the week on the sports channel. His crippled fingers were all but welded around the tiny device that could cause a war in the wrong hands, the remote. The television blared loud enough that Olivia Spencer heard them in the next room. The first, an announcer recounted blow-by-blow freeze-frame shots of the birth of an infant girl at Yankee Stadium with a filter over the lens giving the woman back her dignity, and the second story, the world nightly news, telling an incredible to impossible story of a set of conjoined twins who were half lycan/half vamp, stolen from the hospital in Tennessee. The PEON’s, the Preternatural Exterminating On-sight Neutralizers, put out a BOLO for the babies and a shoot to kill order—no questions asked—on the babies, not the abductors.
The baby story caught Olivia’s attention better than the catcher did through the first few innings. The man had butterfingers today. Olivia padded into the room silent as a great cat, with deadly intent. Seeing the birthmark on the baby girl stirred an emotion deep within her. With a quick glance from the corner of her eye, she scowled seeing the old man she’d marrie
d, remote in one hand with a bottle of cheap beer in his other, nursing it. He reminded her of an over-grown baboon suckling at his mother’s tit. Oh, how she loathed his very existence.
Oliver sneered in her general direction then tipped his beer toward the television spilling a few drops.
“Buffoon.” Olivia stared in disbelief at the television without so much as another word. The black casing surrounding her heart crumbled, like an icepick hacking at a glacier.
She had a granddaughter. Guilt consumed the new grandma and rightfully so. Had she known there would be such a strange expansion of her heart, she’d have released the curse she set in place the day after she condemned Lucian and André to being childless for one hundred years. She hadn’t meant to include André, but being Lucian’s identical twin, well, she’d gotten a two-for one special.
“Oliver, that’s Serina, my baby. Remember her?”
Oliver looked at his wife, tipped his head to the side, shoved the bottle of ale through his pursed lips and gulped. After a loud, wet belch, he swallowed the fluids back down and went back to watching the game, ignoring Olivia.
Olivia’s body tightened with revulsion as she listened to his disgusting body functions. It was only a matter of time before the beer found its way to the other exit. She went in search of a can of air freshener, and a phone book.
****
Cherié, I just spoke with Lucian. Everyone is fine. They’ll be staying a few more days in the city. Where are Raven and Donovan?
In the library. Well, Jonah and Payton are with Raven. Donovan’s disappeared. Nothing’s broken yet.
Other than a few hearts.
André, I’m going up to the nursery. Join me?
I’ll be up soon. Jules and I are going to the police station to make certain Ethan is out of the picture for a few days. A few of the guys owe us a favor or two and we’re going to have them hold the kid until we can straighten this mess out. We won’t let anyone skin him alive. That’ll be my job if the little bastard doesn’t straighten up. Lock up.
André, you know don’t you? About Ethan?
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