by Leela Ash
He bolted from his bed and followed them through the window and over the fence. “Did you tell any others our plan?” he demanded.
He has specifically instructed them not to tell any of his other men about their plans because he was becoming convinced that there was a mole in their group. Nabradia seemed to be able to anticipate his every move of late. Ever since she had lost her daughter Alcacia, she had become a positive banshee. She was deadly as poison and heartless to boot.
“We told no one,” Arthur grunted.
Henry nodded as the border loomed close.
A flash erupted suddenly, and Arthur and Martins went down with identical screams as fire lit their flesh and began to consume them. Henry froze as the smell of burning flesh assailed his nostrils. His two companions were burnt to ashes in mere seconds. He held up both hands in silent surrender to the unseen foe.
Nabradia sashayed into view clad in a long gown with identical slits on either side that exposed her long tan legs all the way to her thighs. She was a very beautiful woman and tonight, her strange violet-colored eyes were even more attractive than usual. She strode towards him, her lips twisted in the parody of a smile.
“Henry, Henry. We seem to run into each other a lot at the border.”
“My Queen,” Henry tried.
“Your queen?” she asked laughing. “Weren’t you even now acting most disloyally to my… authority? You made me seem like a pariah to your men. I heard you were even just now heading to Weirna to enlist the help of those Damaged boys to depose me.”
“I didn’t—”
“I detest lies Henry. Kindly refrain from telling me lies,” she spat.
He swallowed, “Fine. I don’t like you much. You’ve turned Zak into a —”
She tsked, “You’re so concerned about Zak, are you? Well, let me tell you a little secret: Zak doesn’t care a fig for you.”
Henry glared at her in frigid silence.
“He certainly didn’t think about you before taking Santura into his bed.”
Henry ground his teeth in anger, all his veins standing out in stark relief as he stared at her with undiluted hatred, “That was your doing. You made him—”
“Guess again Henry boy. He was already screwing her brains out every single afternoon while you were sweating at the border in service to him. Why else do you think he’s putty in my hands? From sucking my pussy? Please. He’s eternally afraid that I will spill the beans. He was fucking Santura every which way, on the sly. I just made it official,” she finished with a shrug.
Henry stared at her, weighing the truth of her words.
She shook her head, “Doubting Thomas. Come here,” she commanded crooking a finger at him.
He approached with marked hesitation.
She flicked her fingers and a huge mirror appeared. She waved her hand at it and images began to flicker like a movie. He saw the many times he had kissed his Santura before leaving for his duty post and just as many times she had raced over to Zak’s, panting like a bitch in heat to be serviced by Zak.
Henry was quiet watching each love scene but with each second his anger grew, until he was trembling with rage, his eyes bloodshot with a need to kill.
Nabradia kept assessing his behavior and laughing to herself. He was the very sorriest of creatures, she thought. But she would have him in her bed at least once before she sent him to his death.
Watching Zak and his bitch in the throes in scene after scene had made her wet. It had been so long since she let any man fuck her. Even Zak had never been allowed to get past sucking her. But tonight, she was in the mood for a fat, thick penis gliding in and out of her pussy.
Of course, she knew making love with her would destroy any man who dared but she was fully prepared to kill Henry tonight. He had dared to try to usurp her power with the help of Joshua and his boys. Instant death was too good for him. First, he had to service her and then she could send him to his death.
Her eyes twinkled as she slid soft feminine hands onto his shoulders and began to massage them in gentle soothing motions. She felt the tension seep out of him almost immediately and she wasn’t surprised when he grabbed her hand, turned it palm up and dipped his tongue in the very middle of her palm.
Wicked sensation surged through her and Nabradia grinned. Henry would be one hell of a lover, she thought her heart beating fast in her chest. All that testosterone…
He rose to his feet and yanked her close, plastering her lithe frame against his hard sinewy body. His gaze held hers as one hand dipped between them to stroke the soft skin of her clitoris. His eyes burned with masculine lust.
Then without warning he knelt before her, parted her legs and bent to suck her pussy.
Henry sucked her, licking and lapping at her soft sweetness until she was moaning and holding his head fast between her thighs. She didn’t want to cum now, she thought, pushing his head away. The force of the motion made him land flat on his back and she straddled him and beamed down at him.
“Have you ever fucked a witch, my good man?”
His eyes went listlessly to the mirror with new images still flickering on it. “Santura was a witch,” he replied hoarsely.
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” Nabradia agreed, as she undid his fly and let her pussy sink onto his hard, thrusting member.
Nabradia took all the pleasure she could and when she was done, she released Henry to go avenge himself. His penis was still rigid because she hadn’t let him release; but she didn’t care as she nudged him and sent him away.
Henry was like an enraged bull as he sped towards Zak’s home. The door was open and he charged inside. Santura was lying spread-eagled on the bed with Zak fast asleep beside her naked form. One of her hands was between her thighs and she was stroking her clitoris and carrying the juice to her lips in leisurely motions.
When she saw Henry, she stilled. Fear widened her dark eyes before she sat up and offered him a wan smile, “Henry. You came just when I was thinking of you.”
Henry gave her a disparaging look. Some dried sperm was on one of her breasts; it had spilled all over the nipple area and extended towards her neck. Disgust roiled through him. Was she now offering herself to him? She’d had him for years, but she’d thought he wasn’t good enough. She’d wanted Zak instead. And now she wanted him too?
She rose from the bed, unaware of his disgust and anger. Or if she was aware of it, she chose to ignore it. Santura was a beautiful woman; one of the most beautiful in the Archstone to be honest. She probably thought he couldn’t resist her and would forgive her anything.
Santura wore a slight smile on her lips that told Henry she thought he had come panting here in a jealous rage to ‘rescue’ her from Zak. Satisfaction soared through him at the thought that she would soon discover just how wrong she was.
When she came within arm’s reach, she grinned and started to reach for him. The smile was still on her face when he stabbed her right through the heart. Zak stirred in his sleep and Henry vaunted over to where he lay and stabbed him too.
Zak died without a sound and Henry felt a spurt of satisfaction. As soon as he turned to leave, he froze in horror. Nabradia was standing behind him with eight members of the Tribe and she had a look on her face that was pure glee as she pointed at him, “Murderer! He’s murdered your leader!”
Pandemonium ensued. Henry tried to shift into his werebear form but Nabradia’s quick shout of “Incilla!” robbed him of his ability to shift form and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
The men of the Archstone Tribe immediately converged on him, yelling and screaming as they shot hundreds of poisoned arrows into his body. He was already dead, with the first arrow, but they kept shooting until they were satisfied.
“Men of the Archstone Tribe, a grave crime happened here today. Your leader is no more,” Nabradia said when they had quieted down.
Several exclamations of dismay rent the air.
When they had quieted, Nabradia turned to them, “Wha
t do we do now? You have all lost a leader and you’re vulnerable. If the Weirnas hear about this tomorrow morning, they could invade your Tribe. You must move fast and choose someone fearless to lead you.”
As she said the words, she squeezed her wand tighter in her hand, weaving a slumbering spell meant to persuade the hearts of the men as they heard her speak.
“You are already our Queen. You should be leader of the Archstone Tribe,” someone screamed from behind.
A murmur of assent went up from the crowd and in moments everyone was screaming and clamoring for Nabradia as their new leader.
Everything had gone exactly as planned, Nabradia thought, as she acknowledged their cries with a nod and departed from the room leaving behind the dead bodies of her three pawns. She now had an entire army under her command, thanks to thinking quickly on her feet.
Nabradia laughed to herself, the sound brittle and hard, as it had been ever since Alcacia died.
It was really time to show those Weirna shifters and Nana Lourdes what the vengeance of an angry queen looked like.
* * *
Jack hadn’t said the words, Megan thought for the umpteenth time.
She had lost control and cried out her love for him that afternoon in her office, but he had stayed eerily silent. And after that, he had come to her house that night and made such sweet love to her. But even as he had driven his thrusting body into hers over and over again, he had denied her an orgasm until she had screamed the words out. Then he had let her cum and he had given of himself unreservedly until she had reached a screaming peak again.
The next morning, he had woken her up with more intense, toe-curling lovemaking until she was afraid she would turn into a babbling idiot.
That was two mornings ago. And every night since then he had come to her house from renovating his grandparents’. He always arrived sore and tired, but then he made love to her with such intense and attentive skill that she turned into a quivering mess and she had noticed he wouldn’t let up on her until she had screamed the words he wanted to hear. But he never said them back.
Something was bothering her about Jack’s behavior. Sometimes it almost seemed as though he were… saying goodbye to her.
Or was he just in it for sex? He’d admitted to being a womanizer; why did she think she could suddenly change him? Besides, she wasn’t the sort of person people stuck around for, was she? Her biological parents hadn’t thought she was worth sticking around for.
Her phone rang just then and she picked the phone. It was her mom and she sounded as though she had been sobbing.
“Mum is Dad alright?” Megan demanded, worry lacing her voice.
Her father’s voice came over the line, “Hey, baby doll. I’m okay.”
Hearing his voice soothed her and she relaxed a little. “Dad? Why is Mum crying?”
“She’s just relieved I guess,” her dad said. She could picture him cradling the phone with one hand while he turned to beam at his wife.
“Huh? Okay, I’ll bite. What’s going on?”
“We’ve been so worried about Shepsirr. I don’t know if you noticed the last time you came home that he was in a bit of a mood.”
“Shepsirr is always in a bit of a mood Dad. At least he was the last two times I came home,” she said dryly.
He would have had to be in a bad mood to slash her tires, key her car and put a spider in her bed. She had forgiven him for the first two; she was still having a hard time with the last. There just seemed to be something almost evil about anyone who would frighten someone with a spider. Gross!
“Well,” her father continued oozing diplomacy as he sidestepped the issue, “We have managed to track his roots.”
“Okay.”
“His parents were both shifters and they are both dead. His step-father is still very much alive and kicking and he had been thoroughly cruel to poor Shepsirr, until the boy ran away and that’s when we found him.”
“I don’t know Dad; some people take exception to having spiders in their beds. Could be he just took exception a whole lot more than I did,” Megan said blithely.
Her dad was silent for a beat and she could feel his displeasure through the airwaves as clearly as though he had spoken aloud. Then, his rich cultured voice continued, “Shepsirr fainted yesterday. We took him to the doctor’s, and we discovered a dozen old cuts on his back and buttocks. He was being abused.”
The words fell like missiles and she felt ill. “Oh no.”
“Yes. We have gotten him to finally talk to us and that’s why your mum is so relieved. But I think she needs you, baby doll. Think you can swing it?”
Megan looked down at her calendar. Her parents’ home was a two-hour drive from the Angle. If she left at the close of work she could be there before 7pm. But then she had to see another house for a possible shelter somewhere in town and her appointment was for 6pm.
“I don’t know if I can make it today, Dad. But I promise to try okay? Keep Mum calm. I’ll be there before she knows it.”
“We love you,” her father reminded her.
Megan was still smiling dreamily as she ended the call. Her parents were the best thing that had ever happened to her. They loved her without question, and it hadn’t mattered to them that her own parents hadn’t wanted her.
Thinking of her biological parents brought the usual lump of tears to her throat and she shoved that thought away.
Her parents had been there when no one else was, so if they thought they needed her help tonight that’s exactly what she was going to give them. She would tell her secretary to cancel her six o’clock.
Her mind made up, Megan grabbed her bags and headed towards her door. She yanked it open just as Jeanine was lifting a hand to knock on the frame. Megan looked from Jeanine to the tall, handsome man beside her and she felt her heartbeat falter. Jack!
He was dressed all in black today with a turtle-neck sweater and a pair of black jeans over black trainers. His curly chestnut hair was in artful disarray around his head as though he had run his fingers through it and his long lashes veiled his eyes as his own gaze scanned her from head to toe. He was heart-stoppingly handsome and he hadn’t even flashed his dimples yet.
“Going somewhere?” Jeanine asked.
Megan flicked a reluctant glance at the other woman. The fragile truce between them had slowly blossomed into friendship over chicken soup and shared laughter about jealous men.
“My parents need me,” Megan answered.
Jack shifted a little, “I was hoping to take you out to dinner. But um, if you’re going to see your parents, do you mind if I tag along?”
Megan gaped. Jeanine gawked.
“Well?” he demanded testily.
Megan closed her mouth with an audible snap. Then she recovered enough to reply, “I would love for you to meet them but perhaps it might be a good idea for right now. We’ve got something of a family, uh, crisis.”
“Oh no, ill health? I’ll come too,” Jeanine volunteered reaching out a commiserating hand and squeezing Megan’s.
Megan shook her head, feeling thankful tears spring to her eyes. “No, it’s nothing like that. We just have a rebellious teenager staying with us and we just found out he’s been abused all these years.”
Jeanine looked ill. Jack looked furious.
Megan fought down a wave of longing for him. Whatever else he might be, he was a good man. He felt the plight of a teenage boy who had no one. It was just too bad he didn’t feel the plight of a woman who needed to hear that he loved her as much as she loved him.
Jack’s hands knotted into fists at his side and he said decisively, “If you’re dealing with a teenage boy angry at the world and probably confused about what’s going on in his own body, then you need me to come along all the more. I’m sort of an expert, having been just such a boy myself in the past.”
Megan stared at him. He really could be quite insistent. And what he had described did sound like Shepsirr. The boy was a shifter and only just com
ing to understand himself. It stood to reason he would be confused about what was going on in his body; particularly since he wasn’t a shifter like others, he was a hyena-shifter. She sighed. Maybe Jack could help. She would caution everyone not to say anything about shifters to him because the poor man wouldn’t believe it anyway.
He would probably just run for the hills if he heard a breath of it, she thought.
Isn’t that what you were secretly hoping for, her subconscious taunted. Now you’ve gone and fallen for Jack, you’re hoping he ends it for you since you don’t have the guts to do it. And that’s what this weekend is really about. You’ve kept guys away to keep them with you and you’re taking this one home in hopes he runs away!
The truth was always an unhappy discovery, Megan thought.
“Fine. Tag along if you must,” she told Jack with a weary sigh. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over!
19.
“Listen, I’ve got two rules for this weekend: don’t touch me and don’t talk to my mum,” Megan announced as she took the turn to her parents’ home.
Jack threw her an amused look. “Those are your rules?”
She nodded, fixing him with a basilisk glare.
Jack’s eyes crinkled at the side in silent laughter, but he said nothing else. He’d been quiet for the entirety of the journey to the town where her parents lived, and his silence was starting to grate on her nerves.
She was in a querulous mood and she knew why. It hurt to say you loved someone at least a dozen times and never get a response from them. So yes, she was angry. She was touched that he had accompanied her to her parents’ home to help a strange little boy, but she was still mad at him.
Merlyn Delaney erupted from the house before the car could come to a complete stop, with Rick and Tyler, two of her three foster children hard on her heels. Megan positively jumped from the car herself and met her mother half-way. They embraced as though they hadn’t seen each other for years; their emotions so raw that Jack and the two boys were captivated, almost to the point of tears.
