Red

by Tracey H. Kitts

  I'm sure he could tell by the look on my face that I needed some clarification of the term ‘accepted'.

  "That doesn't mean that you have accepted my offer to be kulin. It means that you accepted the gesture as a sign of respect."

  At the time, I had been moved by Marco nuzzling against my thigh. That was why I'd stroked his hair. I felt that some response was necessary on my part, and I'd wanted to comfort him. His hands against my bare skin seemed more intimate than it should and where my palm rested against his chest, I felt his heart beat faster.

  He could have torn me apart any time he wanted to and somehow that uncertainty excited me. Marco wasn't the only one attracted to power. The thought of someone submitting to me when they could just as easily have killed me was a rush. It was erotic to me in a way that I could not describe. His hands massaged when they could have destroyed and with that simple touch sent a fire through my veins.

  "Don't reject me now, Red. Not when I've come to warn you."

  "I wasn't planning on taking back my actions,” I said softly as I brushed my hand absently across his chest. Without realizing what I was doing, I traced the contours of his muscles beneath the thin cotton.

  "A little to the left,” he whispered as he leaned in to brush against my face.

  "What is?” I asked, unable to control the urge to rub my cheek against his.

  I was enjoying the way his late evening stubble felt against the smoothness of my skin when he replied, “My nipple."

  I pulled back to see his face and he was smiling.

  "I heard about Bade,” he explained. “Bastard had it coming."

  "You liked that, did you? Now, what did you say about a warning?"

  Marco looked serious again as he explained. “Remember when I told you that there were members of my pack that were upset about my actions?"

  "You mean your offer to me?"

  "Yes.” He paused as if unsure of how to proceed. “Some of the female members are threatening to attack you in retaliation for not being allowed to compete openly for the position."

  This surprised me. “But, I haven't accepted anything."

  "Maybe not, but you killed the alpha female, which makes the position of kulin ... and me, yours for the taking.” Something about the way he said those last few words made the muscles low in my stomach clench in response.

  "Are you telling me that you have no say in the matter?"

  "Of course not, but if a female were to fight her way to the top, I'd have to have an awfully good reason to refuse her."

  "How about because you don't want her?” Anger blazed in my voice.

  "You are jealous of me, aren't you, Red?” he smiled.

  "I'm serious, Marco. You can't honestly tell me that the wolf king has no say in who he mates with. That's ridiculous! You're the king. That should count for something."

  "It does. If I'm truly opposed to the idea of mating for whatever reason, she can serve as alpha female until she is challenged and defeated. But she will not truly be kulin unless she is my mate."

  "I see. Did you make up that rule to prevent ugly women from becoming queen?"

  He laughed, but there was an underlying threat in his voice. “You have no idea how much you get away with, do you?"

  "Apparently not."

  "It's the reason many of them hate you. Even the former alpha, though she was at one time my mate, was not allowed to treat me the way that you do."

  "How would any of them know how I treat you?” I sounded paranoid, even to myself.

  "People are always watching, Red.” He smiled. “No one has ever been allowed to touch me.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “Or to put my desires on hold the way that you do."

  "It's not healthy to get everything you want,” I retaliated.

  He laughed softly. “I agree, but there are some things worthy of persistence."

  "That's sweet, but I don't cave under pressure."

  "I'm not here to pressure you, Red. I want to protect you.” There was a tenderness in his voice that I hadn't expected.

  Marco wrapped his arms around me, cradling my head against his chest. I was at a loss for words. The man that I had been taught for so long was my enemy wanted to protect me. Confusion was too mild a term for what I felt. Part of me wanted nothing more than to accept his offer, even though I wasn't sure what I was being protected from. I kept thinking that there must be a reason behind his offer other than any personal feelings he might have for me, but I couldn't think of any.

  Honestly, with Marco that close I couldn't think of anything. So, I let him hold me for a while as the storm raged around us. The first few drops of rain began to hit the trees with a soft hissing sound. It was almost like the wind was whispering, “Ssssshhhhh."

  My voice was barely audible when I finally spoke with my face still pressed against him, “I can't accept your protection, Marco."

  "Why?” He sounded hurt.

  I pulled back enough to look at him.

  "Because I'm not yours to protect."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Damn it,” he said hotly. “I knew you'd say that."

  He pulled back, running his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. This movement only succeeded in flexing his bicep enough to distract me. I had difficulty thinking clearly when I was that close to Marco, so I took a step back.

  "Is it because of who I am, or what I am, or just because you're too stubborn to admit you might need help?"

  His last comment chapped my ass enough to inspire a nasty reaction.

  "Did anyone tell you how I killed Julie?” My voice had a deadly edge to it, like a snake about to strike.

  "No,” he answered, and wasn't able to meet my eyes.

  As I continued I knew that I should stop, that I was being deliberately cruel, but I couldn't seem to help myself. “Well, I'll tell you. I flung her like a rag doll, until her bones cracked and her hair fell out in chunks.” I cracked my knuckles to emphasize my last words. “And then, when she was so broken that she couldn't move, I broke her neck."

  For a moment Marco looked like he was going to be sick and I asked a question that I had no right to ask, “Did you love her?"

  I could scarcely believe I had said the words out loud. It was none of my business, and it would have served me right if he'd said so. Instead, Marco met my eyes without hesitation and replied, “No, but I knew her for a long time. It's just difficult to hear."

  I felt like an asshole, but saw no point in stopping there. “If you don't want to hear more stories like that, tell your bitches to back off ... or they'll be just as dead as Julie."

  "If you fight them, whether you mean to or not, you are competing for me,” he pointed out.

  "That's not my problem."

  "Yes, it is. There are some females moving up quickly in the pack, challenging the higher ranking wolves. They will not fight fair."

  "If they're fool enough to attack me, neither will I,” I growled.

  "Damn it, Red, if you'd just let me help you,” he began.

  "If I accept your offer, then you could protect me, is that right?"

  "Yes."

  I sighed, “So, that's why you came by."

  "That's not the only reason.” A touch of growl was creeping back into his voice.

  "I'm sorry, Marco, but that's not going to happen."

  He snarled and snapped at me in a quick gesture that, though not human, its meaning was clear.

  "Fuck you, too,” I said as he retreated down the front steps into the rain.

  "Any time you're ready,” he growled over his shoulder.

  "Wait, where's your car?” I yelled above the storm.

  "At the end of the drive,” he answered without turning around.

  Through flashes of lightning I watched as Marco walked down the drive, the lines of his body ridged with anger. The rain had soaked him through before he'd even reached the arch of white roses across the yard. I put my han
ds in my pockets to prevent reaching out to him and bit my lip to keep from calling him back. Would I have been using Marco if I'd called him back? Was it just his animal magnetism that made me take an involuntary step forward? Or was it something else? I ended up sitting on the top step, just out of the rain. If I took another step, even to try to go back in the house, I knew my feet would end up taking me to him. As he moved further down the drive, I thought of the long night ahead of me and slid to the next step.

  The rain was a cold shock, like icy needles against my skin. His hips swayed as he walked and thoughts came to my mind so sexual and raw in nature, that I doubled over and crawled down the next two steps. I wanted Marco so much that it physically hurt to resist him. My clothes were soaked through by the cold rain, but I could not be cooled. A fever burned in me that had nothing to do with my power and everything to do with my desire to rip those wet jeans from his body and possess the warm flesh of the man beneath.

  Steam began to rise from my body where the rain touched me, and I would not have been surprised if it sizzled. I crawled down the last few steps, gasping for breath around the longing that I felt. At last cool wet grass touched my hands and I lay face down in front of the steps. I could not allow myself to stand up. He was nearly past the curve in the driveway that would put him out of my sight. If I stood up, I would run to him.

  My body seemed to have a mind of its own. I felt myself begin to crawl on my stomach across the grass. The rain hit the ground with such a violence that it splashed into my eyes, but still I moved toward him. When I reached the archway across the yard, I had a clear view of Marco as he reached the curve in the drive. He paused and for a minute I thought he would turn around. He must have been fighting the same feeling that I was. If he turned and saw me, I knew he would come back. I watched him for any sign that he was fighting as hard as I was to control himself, and for the longest time, he didn't move. If he saw me there in the grass there would be no going back. Marco wouldn't be leaving that night or maybe ever. He took a deep breath, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall before he moved those last few paces around the corner.

  I rolled to my back and let the rain hit me in the face, blocked only slightly by the arch of roses. As I fought to regain control Marco's words haunted me, "You will not find an ordinary man who can satisfy you."

  I'm not sure how long I lay there, trying to decide if I was disappointed or relieved that he hadn't looked back, before I began to wonder what I was going to do. The desire I had felt only moments before had been powerful. Nothing I had ever experienced compared. This was not common lust. If it were, I was not without resources. I could take care of things on my own, but I needed something that batteries could not provide. Alfred needed to hurry before I did something stupid.

  * * * *

  After making my way back onto the porch, I stripped and wrung out my clothes before padding barefoot back into the house. The laundry room was located at the end of the hall, past Alfred's room and the guest room. I slapped my wet clothes into the machine and found a towel to dry off with. As I traced my steps back through the house, mopping up my wet footprints, I felt like an idiot. At least Marco hadn't seen me. No damage had been done except to my own pride. No one had ever made me even remotely want to crawl before, but I couldn't stop myself from moving toward Marco. Even if someone had tied me up, I think I would have rolled to him.

  Once I made my way upstairs and out of the shower for the second time, I was more than ready to sleep. When I replaced the lock of Mathias’ hair in the back of the journal, I realized that the pink stone hanging from the necklace was a rose quartz surrounded by a border of silver. If I had paid closer attention, I would have recognized the stone the first time. But, that was not important at the moment. At this point, I went to close the book, but the page that lay open had a new message:

  Be careful who you love. We have the ability, through our most intimate of touches, to take on the characteristics of others. It could be some aspect of their personality, or just liking their favorite food. But you must choose wisely, for there are worse things than craving onions instead of candy.

  Often times these effects do not last. It depends upon the power of the sorcerer or sorceress, and how close they were to the individual.

  As I closed the book, I had the strong impression Mathias was trying to tell me that I could not causally take werewolves to my bed. After placing the journal on my bedside table, I turned out the light, slid between the sheets, and found sleep only a breath away.

  * * * *

  When I woke up the next morning, I looked at the clock to find it was only seven thirty. It chapped my ass how I could never sleep late when I had the opportunity. So, I crawled out of bed, slipped on a pair of green boxer shorts that clashed horribly with my purple t-shirt and went downstairs to make breakfast.

  Mathias’ words from the night before played again through my head and I wondered exactly what he had meant by them. I was surprised that my dreams were not haunted by more perverse images, but if I'd had dreams, they were forgotten.

  I had barely started the coffee when I heard a knock at the door.

  "Good morning, Kat,” I yawned as I opened the door.

  "Are you ok?” she took in my appearance with a glance and cringed at the neon green boxer shorts.

  "It's Saturday morning and I'm awake before nine o'clock. What do you think?"

  She laughed. “I think you let the Joker pick out your clothes."

  "Up yours.” I started to walk away, and then turned back. “You want some breakfast?"

  "Such manners.” She scolded. “I liked you better when Alfred was around."

  I glared at her and she quickly added, “Ok, I won't go there."

  After rummaging around briefly, I decided I was in the mood for waffles and began gathering my ingredients.

  "So, how did it go with the journal? What did you find out?"

  It took me a minute to answer the question. I didn't want to deliberately leave Kat out of the loop, but it seemed wrong to share with someone the information that Mathias had taken such great pains to make sure was for my eyes only.

  She seemed to pick up on my hesitation. “It's alright if you can't tell me. I understand."

  "It's not that I don't want to, some of it was just ... personal, about him and his life. But, I can tell you some things."

  "Ok."

  "Well, for one, the journal is enchanted. It says different things to different people."

  "Really? I wonder what it said to Marco?"

  "That's what I asked him."

  "Wait, you asked him? When did you talk to him?"

  "He was here last night,” I said quickly, trying to get back to the subject, but Kat would not be deterred.

  "Whoa. What are you not telling me?"

  "I'm getting there, just hold on.” I turned back to the fridge to look for an egg.

  "Alright then, what were you saying?"

  "The journal told Marco in no uncertain terms that he was supposed to give it to me. See, it was meant for me all along. So, Marco was only able to read it like a diary, telling Mathias’ day to day activities. It didn't tell about how to control his power or anything like that."

  "I take it that's what he told you?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I can understand you not wanting to share that. I wouldn't understand it anyway. I've never even met a wizard. So, your great, great, grandfather's name was Mathias?"

  "Yeah,” I answered, pouring batter into the waffle press. “Mathias Alexander, to be exact."

  "Are you going to tell the rest of your family?"

  "I don't think so. At least not until I straighten things out in my own mind. From the way he talked, I think it's best if no one else knows."

  "Why, are you in some kind of danger?"

  "If the wrong person were to find out, possibly."

  Kat told me about some new ideas for revamping her shop while I put a big golden brown waffle onto her plate.
<
br />   "You know, I just come by here for the food.” She smiled.

  "Yeah, I figured as much."

  "Well, that and the off chance I might get to see Alfred in a bath robe again.” She laughed.

  "You're sick.” I snickered, passing her the syrup.

  "Most likely."

  I told her how the date with Elijah had gone the night before. She listened with bated breath when I got to the part where Marco rang my doorbell.

  "He just showed up on your front porch?"

  "Mmhm, looking better than he had a right to, as usual."

  "I know the history between you two, and I swear if it were me, I'd do things to him that would make whatever went on in your dungeon look mild in comparison."

  "Don't think it hasn't occurred to me,” I drawled sarcastically.

  I finished telling her about my conversation with Marco the night before, only I left out the fact that I'd crawled across the yard after him.

  "I love Alfred,” she began, “I really do, but have you lost your damn mind?"

  Her reaction made me laugh. “Wait till you hear what Mathias had to say about the matter."

  Once I'd told Kat about Mathias’ last warning, she got up to get some more coffee with an exclaimed, “Damn."

  "I know. What really sucks is he's probably right."

  "How can you know for sure what he meant though? I mean, he could see the future, right? He might have been warning you about somebody that you haven't even met yet."

  "That's true. You realize of course, that I've tumbled this around in my head in every way possible? I can only assume that it will become clear when it was meant to. Or maybe it's just a general warning. Either way, it certainly explains some weirdness that went on when I was dating Bradley."

  Kat cringed at the sound of his name. “Ugh, not him again. What did it explain, that he's a jerk-off?"

  "No, I didn't need an explanation for that. But, when I was dating him, I started to like things that he liked, things I previously didn't have an interest in. Nothing severe, I just started eating his favorite foods and reading books that he enjoyed. But it all wore off once I didn't have any more contact with him."