by Mina Carter
She took the envelope, obviously mistaking it for a christening card or something. Guilt hit him. Coward. He’d taken the easy way out and written a letter of resignation from the band rather than face Aaron and, God forbid, Karlan, with the reasons he had to leave.
“No worries.” The letter disappeared into her pocket rather than the tiny purse that was useless for anything more than whatever women carried about with them. Personally, he couldn’t see the point in the thing.
“Just make sure you’re not late on Sunday. You know how Mom gets when you’re late,” she warned, wagging her finger at him and opening up a whole new set of wounds across his heart. His grin slipped a little. Cutting himself off from K also meant losing the only family he’d had since his mother’s death in the fire years ago.
“I won’t be late.”
Not a lie: not really. He wouldn’t be late, because he wouldn’t be there at all.
Not ever again.
Chapter Two
Crap. Sav was leaving already.
With baby Angel still in his arms, K kept track of the other rocker from the corner of his eye as the guy walked the length of the chapel and disappeared out the door. Over the years, K had become a master of stealth and an expert in concealing his interest, so no one noticed him ogle the other man’s ass.
He couldn’t help it. Sav had always been handsome. On stage in his leathers and chains, hair loose over broad shoulders, he was stunning. Eyes closed and lost in the music, Sav would wring a beat from his drums that bordered on the sublime…awesome, the only word to describe him. Not human, but nearer a god.
K loved to see him play, to watch the expressions on his face. Offstage, Sav took prizes for arrogance. Sharp in wit and hard to read, he wore a mask to keep the rest of the world at bay. But on stage, the mask disappeared. Totally open and honest while the beat poured through him, Sav brought music to life with his hands and feet, creating a framework for K to play within. Between them, they provided the backbone for the band’s sound, their playing so precise and coordinated, they’d been asked many times if wolves were telepathic.
But, just once, he wanted Sav to be honest offstage. But that would mean K being honest too, and admit he lived a lie. One he’d lived for years.
With a sigh, he kissed the top of his niece’s head. She smelled of baby powder and happiness, such a pure and perfect scent, his heart stuttered. A pang of longing hit him. Not for the feeling of a child of his own in his arms: he’d figured out awhile ago the whole family thing wasn’t for him. But, he longed to be able to smell properly.
Oh sure, his human sense of smell worked perfectly, but his big secret, the one far greater than the fact he lusted after both men and women, impacted him on a day-to-day, minute-to-minute, basis: his wolf had no sense of smell. Nothing, zip, nada. Destroyed years earlier, when he and Aaron had pulled Sav and his mother from the burning wreck of their trailer. A werewolf already well into puberty, Sav had shrugged off the severe burns, but his human mother hadn’t been so fortunate and neither had K’s burgeoning, delicate sense of smell.
Wolves didn’t manifest their abilities until their transformation during puberty, so K’d never had the opportunity to know the rich scents his brother described. He’d never experienced the world the same way others of his kind did. Alive and vibrant, smells painted the world instead of colors. Without the sense, he suffered the werewolf equivalent of being blind, and times like these, with the baby in his arms, he cursed his disability. If he could smell as a wolf, he’d know…something more than he did at the moment. Experience life in a different way.
Be able to scent his mate.
Handing the baby to her mother with a small smile, K stepped back and took his place next to Tempest. Sliding a glance down at her, he wanted to ask what Sav had said, but didn’t. Never express too much interest too fast.
His management-constructed image with the Hounds was the playboy rocker with a new woman every night. The bad-boy wolf they all wanted to tame, but could never get close to. And a sham, a lie to the world. Yeah, sure, he played with the women, charmed and bedded them…but only a muscle-bound rocker with long hair and tattoos could make his heart pound and his body ache with longing.
The priest waffled on, so K took the opportunity to lean down and whisper in his sister’s ear. “Sav already decided he had something better to do?”
“Hmm?” She didn’t meet his eyes, but moved a little closer so they could talk without disturbing the ceremony. “Didn’t say, looked tired though. You know him, it’s anyone’s guess what goes on in that head.”
Didn’t he know it? K had long since given up trying to work out what went through Sav’s head most of the time.
“Perhaps his date didn’t go so well last night.”
He managed to keep his voice light, free of any tension or jealousy. A random comment, despite the fact he’d wanted to punch a wall or seven after Sav’s departure with the pretty youngster the night before. K’s fault, he supposed…he hadn’t been able to resist looking at Sav when the blonde…Amy, Amalie, or something…had dropped into his own lap. One little glance. Hoping, maybe, to see jealousy on the other guy’s face. The moment that passed between them had seared K to the bone, his cock hard and ready in an instant.
Within minutes, Sav left with another man, so K had taken the blonde home. He couldn’t even remember the sex. Routine. Mechanical. Physical release. Nothing that stirred his soul or even his interest, the encounter forgotten almost before he’d finished.
Tempest fixed him with a direct look and said, “Hmm, yeah, maybe. Might have helped if he’d taken the right guy home though, wouldn’t it?”
K’s heart screeched to a halt “I don’t know what you mean—”
“Bullshit.” She cut him off, her voice low but no less forceful. “I know you, brother dear. I know both of you, and I wish you’d both stop beating about the bush and just tell each other how you feel.”
“I-I….” K opened and closed his mouth for a second, not making a sound. “I’m not gay.”
That announcement elicited the rise of a delicate eyebrow. “Yeah, right. So maybe you’re bi. Whatever way you choose to cut it…you want him, he wants you. So freaking well get on with it!”
“But…the band…I’m….” He stopped to collect his thoughts. “The fans expect—”
She shoved a finger in the center of his chest with almost bruising intensity. “Screw what the fans expect!” Her eyes spat fire, anger rolling off her in waves. “This is you, about your life. Don’t let something good, something you want, walk away just because of an image cooked up for the stage. You think they’ll love you any less?”
He shook his head, unsure what to say. Tempest had stripped away all his arguments. Every single one he’d told over the years.
“They. Will. Deal.” She huffed, and pulled him into a swift bear hug. “You’ve got do what you need to do. Live your life for you, not for everyone else.”
He returned her embrace. Despite her temper and attitude, Tempest had always been one of the rocks in his life, along with his brother and the cantankerous drummer who’d left minutes earlier.
He stared at the door Sav had walked out of. Perhaps it was time to lay his cards on the table. Anything had to be better than the limbo he’d made his home recently. Existence only, not living, always waiting to go on stage so he could make music with Sav.
Time to see if they could make another kind of music...
***
“I have to warn you, Mr. Rixx, there is no guarantee that this procedure will work. And there are risks.”
Lying on the medical bed, his brother hovering at his side, Karlan nodded at the doctor’s words. He knew the risks, they’d been outlined in the forty-something page document they’d had him sign. In triplicate. He’d been surprised they hadn’t wanted it signed in blood and demanded his firstborn as well.
“Yeah, your colleague was very specific about everything.”
With a sigh,
he lay back and closed his eyes before the doctor could remove the cover on the small table that had been wheeled into the room a few minutes after he and Aaron had arrived. Like he had at every previous appointment, his brother remained a silent shadow at his side. There for him as he dealt with this…embarrassment. For a wolf not to be able to smell? Christ, it was worse than appearing naked in public, something K had no problem with, but the morality police screamed about.
“Alrighty then. Let’s get this show on the road.”
The coarse whisper of fabric assaulted his ears as the cover was whisked aside, but he didn’t open his eyes. Not that the numerous needles on the tray bothered him. With the number of tats he had, any fear of pointy objects had long since disappeared. But the outcome—the return of his lupine sense of smell—had become so important to him, he didn’t dare look. To do so would make the possible end of the past year’s long journey real and set him up for disappointment when it failed. Better not to. Better to pretend that he was there for a routine appointment and walk out the same way he’d walked in. Damaged.
He took a couple of deep breaths while the doc messed with the stuff, trying not to focus on the sounds. When the medical team had suggested the procedure, he hadn’t believed it would work. Stem cells taken from Angel, his brother’s daughter, had been collected during her birth and tested. Given her genetics, the cells were pronounced a near-enough match to give the transplant therapy a try.
The cells had been prepared and loaded in the syringe, and the doctor planned to inject them into his nose. From that point on, they trusted his lycanthrope nature would take over and use the resource to mend the damage done to his body by the fire.
“Here we go.”
Aaron’s hand landed on his shoulder at the same moment the doctor touched his face. K lay still, ignoring the discomfort and then pain when the needle popped as it slid through the skin. The physician depressed the plunger and liquid fire spread through K’s face from his nose outward. Fizzing, itchy fire…as though he’d taken a drink of soda and laughed, sending it up into his nose, but a thousand times worse. Clenching his teeth, he held still, held the sneeze that built with the force of a tsunami.
“Just a moment more, Mr. Rixx….” The physician said in a low as he removed the needle. K caught the scent of blood, his own, fill his nose. “Give the cells a chance to settle.”
He nodded and gratefully grasped the tissue the nurse pushed into his hand. Sitting up, he shoved the tissue against his nose.
“Hold onto it, man,” Aaron urged, rubbing his shoulder. “Already been pissed on once this morning, so I could do without your bloody snot all over me as well.”
K laughed, tears welling and threatening to run down his cheeks. The sneeze held there for a moment, but faded fast. The fire followed suit. A cool sensation wafted through his nose, and he felt like he was breathing in crisp, clear mountain air. Carefully, he moved the tissue, wriggling his nose before he spoke. “The joys of a newborn, eh?”
Aaron chuckled and shook his head. He seemed tired, but only K and Mel, Aaron’s wife, would have been able to tell. His eyes were drawn at the corners, the tiny lines deeper than normal. K frowned, wondering if everything was okay at home. No, it couldn’t be that. Mel and Aaron had been so loving at the christening the day before. Perhaps something with the band?
Aaron dealt with the organization and management team so the rest of them didn’t have to. K hadn’t noticed any tension recently between his brother and their manager, Bonnie. And with how fiery the small Englishwoman could be, if there had been, everyone would have known about it. Usually they hid during her rampages, even the big, bad werewolves, because she had a hell of a temper. She also happened to be the sweetest woman alive, with a mother hen streak a mile wide, and the best damn manager they’d ever had.
“Everyth—Ahhhhcchhoo!”
The sneeze hit, creeping out of nowhere and catching him unaware. With a speed born of his non-human blood, he slammed the tissue over his nose again to stop fluids evacuating.
“Shit. You okay, bro?” Concern colored his brother’s voice at the atomic sneeze.
K nodded through his tears, giving up the tissue when the doctor swooped in to claim it, another pushed into his hand. Then did a great job, checking out the contents of the tissue. K’s lips quirked.
Sav did that; checked out the contents of his handkerchief after a sneeze. Said it had something to do with his hobby of scuba diving, pressure and sinuses or something. K didn’t care. It was gross.
“Well, so far so good. No blood, so I’m taking that to mean the injection site has already sealed over thanks to your rapid healing.” He beamed. “Give the cells a few days to settle and hopefully, if all goes well, you should start to notice an increase in your sensitivity.”
An increase in sensitivity. What a formal way to say he should be able to smell again. K simply smiled and thanked him as the staff packed up to leave. The nurse, a pretty little woman in her late twenties, blew him a kiss over her shoulder, but he ignored it. So not going there, not with his decision to talk to Sav having been made.
Aaron focused on him after the staff left. “Just us now, bro. You feeling okay?”
“Hmmm, yeah.” K moved to the side of the bed then slid his feet to the ground and stood. More and more aromas assaulted him, expanding from the normal everyday stuff from his human sense of smell into something…more. As if they were pictures in a pop-up book, they folded out and became more complex. Aaron’s scent filled the room, a wild, feral odor that reminded K of the woods and running threading through the more normal tones of his aftershave and body spray. Hell, he even smelled the hair gunk Aaron used before he’d washed his hair the night before, his brother’s long locks clean and product-free at the moment.
“Fuck. Me.” Not believing the scents hitting him, he grabbed his brother’s arm. “I can smell it. You…Angel had baby rice last night, didn’t she?”
God. He could smell it all. A small whoop of delight escaped his lips. The flirty little nurse had a boyfriend, or at the least, a lover, since a man’s sweat and the scent of sex clung to her hastily-showered skin in trace amounts. The doctor lived alone, with three cats. One was sick. And from the rancid stink, the patient in the room before him had to be an addict.
“Yeah…for real? It worked?” His face wreathed in a delighted grin, Aaron grabbed K and pulled him into a hard hug.
“Yeah! It worked! Oh, my God, what is that?”
The embrace caused Aaron’s jacket to billow and the most delicious fragrance assaulted K’s nose. Like chocolate, good rum and sex all rolled into one, a scent so delicious he wanted to moan and wrap it around himself.
“What’s in your pocket?” he demanded, knowing Aaron had a sweet tooth. It was sublime. If chocolate smelled that way to a werewolf, then he was so getting fat. “C’mon man, you can’t hold out on me.”
Aaron frowned, reaching into his jacket and withdrew not the chocolate K expected, but an envelope. “Only this. It’s from Sav.”
K gritted his teeth to keep from grabbing the letter and rubbing his cheek against it, catlike. “What’s in it? It smells fantastic.”
“Dunno. It smells normal, like Sav, to me. Hold on.”
Long fingers, so like K’s own, made short work of the envelope and Aaron extracted a single sheet. As his read, the smile slipped from his face.
Cold tendrils of foreboding slid over K’s skin. “What?”
Aaron’s expression set. “Sav’s gone. He left the band.”
Chapter Three
Two weeks. How could it only have been a fortnight since Sav left? In the practice studio, K fiddled with the strap on his guitar, ignoring the group clustered around him. Only it wasn’t the band, not really. Sure, Tempest stood in her usual place to his left and Aaron at the front, reading through some notes. But behind him…some jumped-up kid sat in Sav’s place.
The great, gaping hole in the center of his chest throbbed, ragged edges bleeding pain
through the rest of his body. Sav had gone. Disappeared who the hell knew where. K closed his eyes, gripping the fretboard of his guitar. Nothing left of Sav but a memory and the fading scent on the letter he’d sent Aaron to say he couldn’t stay with the band.
He hadn’t given a reason, other than some crap about being true to himself and not settling anymore, but there had been no explanation. He’d even gone around to Sav’s place to get some answers, to tell the other wolf how he felt and finally go after what he wanted.
Hell, he’d been so nervous, he’d kicked his heels outside the place for an hour. A bitter snort left him. Look what good that had done. By the time he’d picked up the courage to go knock on the door, there had been no answer.
A quick scout around the back of the house had provided the reason why. The curtains leading out onto the sun deck were wide open, revealing the place had been cleared. He remembered staggering back to collapse in one of the wicker chairs in front of the pool, legs too weak to support him as he stared at the empty room on the other side of the glass.
Sav had not only left the band, he’d skipped town as well. Given notice on his place, his car was gone—the big, American-muscle monster K always ribbed him about—and disappeared so completely that not even Barrett, with all his numerous contacts, could locate him.
K could forgive him for leaving the band, and town, but leaving him without a word? After all they’d been through. He’d saved the guy’s life for heaven’s sake…. Surely that had to count for something?
“Okay.” Aaron’s voice broke through his bitter thoughts. “We’d better get this show on the road. Reese, we’ll start with some of the older stuff to ease you in, then take it from there, okay?”
K cast a quick glance over his shoulder then turned away. It was wrong to see another guy sat in Sav’s place. So wrong his gut churned and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
