With a quick glance, he saw his baby held her sword like a swordswoman trained to kill, to defend. Damn woman. And did he just think of her as his baby? “Stay where you are, babe. These three are bottom feeders. Unskilled. Filthy. And cowards.” He lied about the unskilled part.
“Fuck you, Midnight Howl.”
Callum gave Pic a benign smile, as if dealing with a temperamental child. “You’re doing errands for your brother now, Pic?”
“The errand is to bring this nice-smelling woman and her sword back to Atos. And since you’re here, faggot, I’ll add ending your pathetic life to the job. Which I don’t mind doing at all. Glad to find you here, really. I get the sword and I get to end your life,” Pic sneered before turning his attention to Marisol.
Callum saw Pic’s snide expression change into a smile, one he’d be willing to bet never failed to capture a woman’s interest. Damn, he hoped Marisol wouldn’t fall for that hey-baby grin. He quickly glanced at Marisol. Nope, she didn’t. In fact, her scowl and pinched lips showed she was disgusted. Still, he wished she wasn’t here. Maybe she could fight, but these assholes were ruthless experts. Not to mention they were huge. When they shifted, Marisol wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Sweetheart, thanks for bringing the sword to us. Now be a good little girl and put it down. Come with us. Tell Atos what you know about your father’s poultice and you’ll have a warm spot in my bed. How’s that for a bargain?”
“Not gonna happen, you fucking asshole,” Marisol replied.
“Bitch. Then you’ll die like your father and mother. Squealing like pigs, begging to be spared.”
Callum saw the flash of anger cross Marisol’s face. “Marisol, don’t talk to this animal.”
Marisol ignored him. “My mother and father would never make such pleas. They willingly gave their lives to protect the ones they love. You know that, Pic. I understand why you told such a lie. You’re jealous because you don’t have anyone willing to die for you to keep you safe.”
“You don’t know that, bitch. I’ll fucking cut your tongue out.”
“Oh? Your brother must’ve known you have little chance of getting out of here alive. And yet, he gave you the job of getting this sword. Doesn’t he care about you?”
“Atos sent me here because I’m the best. He knows I can do a simple task. Like wringing your puny neck to get the sword.”
“Simple tasks, eh? Well, little ugly pup, your brother’s misinformed. Callum?”
Callum grinned at Pic, whose face turned from bright pink to mottled red. “Yeah, baby?”
“Go ahead and tear their hearts out.”
He barely heard Marisol’s gasp before the three men shifted into wolves. Two lunged at him. Callum avoided the first wolf by crouching low. He met the other one with a punch on the jaw. “Fucking morons.”
The wolf hit the pottery wheel, landed on the floor on all fours, its tail high. Both wolves snarled, the fur at the back of their necks bristling like porcupine quills.
“Callum, what should I do with this one?”
“Don’t hesitate. If he moves, kill him.” The wolves crouched in front of Callum, a position he knew well. He changed form, jumped, and met the wolves in the air.
***
Marisol cringed as the sound of angry snarls resounded around the room. She wanted to see what was happening, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the one circling her. “Just so you know, I will not use the poultice on your kind. So you’d better tell your friends to back off and leave us.”
“Pathetic little bitch, I can fit your neck in my mouth with room to spare. You are too skinny to lift that sword.”
Marisol stared at the wolf. She could hear his thoughts. “Wanna try me?”
“You can hear me. Good. Now, listen to this. You’ll die, bitch.”
“Fool.”
The wolf lunged at her. She lifted her sword just in time; it sliced easily into the wolf’s body. She’d never used the sword to kill anything before. She never knew how it felt to cut into actual flesh. Until now. It was like cutting off a pat of butter. Soft and smooth. At least until she hit bone. Her sword went through the wolf’s side and connected with his ribs. A yelp that resembled a dog crying in pain rent the air before the wolf landed on the floor with a sickening thud.
The wolf turned back into a man; the man rose to his feet. Even with his blood dripping on the floor, he still looked magnificent. Like a Greek god emerging from a blood bath. What the heck was up with these shape-shifters? Even the bad ones were drool-worthy. He was almost as tall as Callum, all muscles, and he looked very pissed. Oh dear.
“I fucking hate humans.”
Despite his wound, the naked man still looked vicious. His face contorted with anger. Good God. He looked so strong he could probably break her body like a twig. Marisol remembered what Callum said. If cut with an ancient sword, a shape-shifter wouldn’t be able to heal himself. Perhaps this one would bleed to death and she wouldn’t have to fight him. Marisol prepared for the man’s attack.
To her relief, the man’s legs buckled beneath him. And then he shifted to a wolf form again. He didn’t move. His eyes were open and blood oozed from his mouth, nose, and chest.
Good God, I killed a shape-shifter.
Wrong.
The wolf opened his eyes. They were gray, like Callum’s, when he woke up after she’d applied the poultice to his wound, but something looked far different about this one. He looked like a diabolical, vile, rabid animal. Jesus! What was he?
“Kill him, Marisol. Now.”
Marisol heard Callum’s voice in her head. At his urgent tone, she gripped the sword’s handle, as if she was facing death itself. “I think I killed him already.”
The wolf stood on all fours.
“Maybe not.”
“Stupid girl.”
Now it was the bad wolf talking. Good God, this must be what paranoid schizophrenics experience when they hear voices in their heads.
“Didn’t your daddy tell you not to play with sharp objects?”
“No. He told me the opposite.”
The wolf’s hind legs buckled beneath him, but he managed to stand again. And then he leaped. Marisol sidestepped, avoiding the sharp claws before they could land on her chest. Not giving the wolf a chance to attack again, she swung her sword and sliced the wolf’s throat, leaving only the skin on the back of his neck intact. The body skidded across the floor. When it stopped, it instantly turned back into a man.
Marisol couldn’t decide which was worse. The sight of a nearly headless wolf or a nearly headless naked man. She looked at the body lying on its side. Its head was angled as if it was lying against the body, its unseeing eyes upside down.
At the sound of a vicious, angry growl, Marisol turned to look. She froze, fear rooting her to the floor. A wolf with hair as dark as midnight, standing on end, slowly moved toward her. He was so tall his back must have reached her stomach. And she was five-eight. My God!
“I will send you to hell, you fucking bitch!”
The handle of her sword felt slippery from her sweaty palms. She wanted to drop it and run. No wonder her mother and father died without a fight. They were no match for these animals.
“You will die like your pathetic mother and father.”
This one was beyond angry. He almost successfully robbed Marisol of her strength and will to fight, but he made a mistake by mentioning her parents. Reminding her that her parents died violently in the hands of these filthy, good for nothing dirt bags, renewed her physical energy and strengthened her belief that they should die without mercy. She felt no fear, only rage. Oh, heck yeah. She was beyond fear now.
“You think you can get past my sword, you bastard? Come on, try me. You have no fucking idea who you’re dealing with here.”
“You are cocky for a daughter of a simple veterinarian.”
“You forget, hairball, in my veins runs the same blood as Youven’s, of the Arcus clan. I’m sure you know the history of the tw
o clans.” Thank goodness Callum had taken the time to tell her the story.
“Bitch. You’re not immortal.”
“Against my sword, you aren’t either. I will take your five lives right here, ugly-puss.”
The wolf blinked and then took a step back. A look of surprise passed over his face. A heartbeat later it was gone. The wolf lowered his head. “Fuck you. Prepare to die.”
Marisol held her sword so tightly, her fingers began to hurt. She raised her sword and waited. “Come meet your maker, dickhead.”
The wolf surprised Marisol with his agility and speed. He leaped for her throat, but she was faster. She hadn’t spent hours training how to use her sword for nothing. She swung it with deadly aim. The wolf’s body landed on the floor. His head followed. Seconds later, both began to disintegrate. The whole decaying process happened so fast all Marisol could do was stare at the mound of ash that a minute ago had been growling at her.
She was still trying to comprehend why this wolf had turned into ash while the other didn’t, when she heard a loud crash. Taking her eye off the dead wolf, she looked at Callum, whose mouth had a good hold on the last Blood Robber. He threw him against the wall so hard the barn’s wood paneling splintered. The wolf stopped fighting. Instead, he let out a loud howl, stood up, and jumped through the open window.
They’re gone, she thought. Thank God. Marisol looked down at her sword; it was covered in blood that slowly ran down, from the blade to its tip, to drip on the floor. Did she just kill two wolves? She looked around the barn. What a mess. It looked like a hurricane just came by and destroyed everything she’d worked hard for. There were blood spatters on the wall and the floor... Good God. How was she going to clean this up?
“Mari?”
“Callum, I killed two shape-shifters. That one and the pile of ashes over there. Why did he turn into ashes?
“Babe, decapitation saves us from burying dead bodies. Small favors from the war gods.”
“Good God. This is a nightmare. Am I still on earth or in hell? I’m sure this never happens on earth, which means I’m somewhere—”
“Mari.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you hurt?”
She finally looked at Callum. He was wrapping what was left of his shirt around his waist. “No. You?”
“I’m good. Sorry I can’t return Mark’s clothes anymore. And I’m going to borrow another pair of jeans,” he snapped.
“No problem. You mad about the clothes? Don’t be because—”
She wasn’t prepared for Callum’s next move. He grabbed her arms. “You are one crazy woman,” he snarled before he leaned down to give her a bruising, punishing kiss. By the time Callum finished, her mouth tingled.
“I told you to wait. You didn’t listen.”
“Did you honestly think I’d wait in my room? Callum, I kept hearing things breaking and loud thudding sounds. I wasn’t sure it if was your head getting smashed on the wall or not.”
“Faith, baby. Have a little faith.”
“Have you any idea how hard it is to just stand, not do anything, and not know what’s happening? I kept thinking what if you’re hurt again. I didn’t want that to happen.”
“Sorry, babe. I’m not hurt. Thank you for your concern and thank you for saving my life earlier. But baby, when I tell you to stay put, you have to listen. God, Marisol. Do you like to disobey me so I’ll kiss you or are you just plain stubborn?”
“Well, I like it when you kiss me, but Dad called me stubborn every single day.”
“God help the man you marry someday. You’ll be the death of him.”
Marisol punched him in the gut. “I’m not that bad.”
Callum pulled her against him and hugged her tight. “Thanks for coming to my aid in your revealing top and jeans.”
“Changing was the last thing in my mind.”
“They broke your vases.”
“I don’t care. Those things are just samples. The good ones are in my drying room.” She pressed her hands on his chest gently. “Callum, this one’s not totally decapitated. Is that why he’s still here?”
“Yes. You cut him bad. Even if you just nicked him. He’ll die anyway. His body won’t be able to heal his wound.”
Marisol raised her sword. She couldn’t believe she held the most powerful sword in her hands. “I think something different happened to him. After I stabbed him, I thought he was dead, but then he came back and looked...different.”
“He became a Cancer.”
“Cancer?”
“Yeah, but he was still no match for your sword. Cancer or not. You killed him. Good.” Callum sat on his haunches to get a better look at the dead man. “Fuck. Baby, we got to get out of here. Now.”
“Why? What’s a Cancer? Like a disease or tumor or something? Is the air contaminated with deadly germs?”
“I’ll explain later. Right now we have to leave.”
“Why? Did I kill someone important?”
“Yes. Atos’s brother, Pic.”
Chapter Ten
Callum revved his Ducati’s incredible 180hp L-Twin Testastretta Evoluzione engine. The chassis’s set-up tipped the scales at an unbelievably light weight of one hundred sixty-five kilograms. His motorcycle was built for speed—the kind that they needed right now. Thanks to the Ducati family and Bolognese investors, he could use another form of speed other than his own. And he was grateful to Mark for keeping his motorcycle in the garage. His friend must have known that it would come in handy. He looked at Marisol. She’d been punishing her lips with her constant chewing ever since she saw the bike. He could tell that she’d never been on one before.
“Afraid?”
“Just wondering how in the world I could have missed something as beautiful as this in this garage. Well, I noticed the tarp, but I didn’t think anything of it. Dad liked to tinker in there and he’s got enough junk to start a junkyard, but it never occur to me that he’s hiding a...What kind of motorcycle did you say this is?”
“Ducati.”
“Yes. Ducati. So beautiful.”
“It rides beautifully also.”
“Do you think I can keep my heinie on that seat?”
Callum wrapped his arm around her midriff. “Just hang on to me. It’s going to be okay.” He tilted her chin and gave her a kiss that made him wish they were in a different place, time, and situation. “Are you still thinking about the shape-shifters?”
“Hard not to.”
“Baby, don’t worry. They won’t attack us in broad daylight, and in the open. We’ll stay on the road and the ride will be smooth.”
“Callum, those were the wolves that hurt you.”
“Not particularly those bastards, but yes, a Blood Robber wounded me.”
“Atos.”
Callum nodded. “He’s been after me for a long time now.”
“Good. Now I don’t feel bad for what I did.”
“You like me that much, huh?”
A beautiful shade of pink crept up Marisol’s neck and cheeks. “Well, you’re my dad’s friend and you kiss nice.”
“I’ve been told.”
A shadow of annoyance crossed her face. “Who told you?”
“So and so. Jealous?”
“Why would I be?” She turned and mumbled something about lopping someone’s head off. “I don’t even know you.” Marisol lifted a finger to stop him from replying. “And don’t tell me that you can smell my heat. That just sounds so…icky.”
He wanted to laugh, but thought better of it. After witnessing how good she was with her sword, he’d better learn to curb his tongue; he had better ideas on how to use it on her. He eyed Marisol. She continued to stare at his motorcycle as if it was a newly found species. Dressed in sexy, low hip-hugger jeans, with her sword in a leather scabbard she carried on her back, she looked so hot—like a modern day warrior. Mark had fashioned the straps so Marisol could carry the beautiful weapon comfortably, like a holster. He wondered what she’d look like
in leather.
“What if we get pulled over? How are you going to explain my sword to the cop? Or should I just lop his head off?”
“You worry too much.”
Marisol hitched a black backpack onto her shoulder. “Why couldn’t we use my car?”
“Baby, a bicycle would go faster than your old Subaru.”
“Sweetheart, thanks for the compliment. You just earned my heart,” she answered with sarcasm. Her mouth pinched tight.
Callum coughed in his fisted hand. “Are you sure you got everything you need in that backpack?”
“No, but you told me to pack light.”
“We’ll stop at the store later. We’d better get going. By nightfall, this place will be swarming with Blood Robbers.”
“We have time then. The sun’s still asleep.”
“I know. That’s why we have to leave now.”
“Why is Atos after you? Did you cut his tail or something?”
“I wish. He’s after all of us Midnight Howl.”
“And me.”
“Yes. So we have to go.”
“How did you guys manage to hide from us? I mean, it’s not like there’s only a few of you roaming around. You have a clan, for crying out loud. But I’ve never heard anything about you on the news.”
“We’ve made it on the news. Too many times to count, in fact. But your government and military are good at covering stories they can’t explain. When something inexplicable happens, they know how to disguise it. We do the same to keep our tracks hidden. We have Cleaners to pick up our mess. That’s why you don’t hear about dead wolves or weapons lying around.”
“Wow. You have maid brigades to clean up the ashes and blood in my house?”
“Yes, I already placed a call. They’ll be here soon and they’re not going to be happy if they find us here. The Cleaners would rather work without an audience, behind the scene. When we come back here, you won’t see a trace of evidence to show that wolves died in your barn.”
“Who are they?”
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 302
