by Red, Lynn
“Enough! Do as I command or I’ll send you back to the pit and trade you for an incubus.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The succubus’s voice took on a kind of golden, harp-like melody. Damon momentarily forgot himself, his wits lost in the crescendo of her cadence. “Well fine.”
There was a brief flurry of activity, and then the boots clomped over to the center of the room. “Good enough, at least. Not quite as jagged as I’d like, but it’ll have to do. We don’t want anyone happening upon us out here. Can you make your own way?”
“Can I?” Danness asked. “But first, when do we get to hunt down his mate?”
Lily? Is she somehow talking about Lily?
“You’ve been reading my notes,” Carrell said in a cold voice. “Soon enough. He’s a lovesick puppy. We can’t take her until the war is good and started. If we do, he’ll likely just curl up and die. You know how it is.”
“I do?” she asked. And then out of nowhere, a loud crack, like a peal of thunder mixed with popping ears, made Damon wince. As soon as he heard footsteps – but only one pair – on the steps heading down to the entrance, he pulled himself back inside and crouched behind the window, waiting to see who, or what, left.
For what seemed an eternity, he sat there, crouched and holding his breath. For an instant, a flicker of heat, and a searing purple light shot through his vision. It traced the veins in his eyeballs, and then, with a second blink of his eyes, it vanished.
Damon shook his head and refocused his attention on the front door.
A thin man wearing a sharply tailored, dark-colored suit pushed the door open and stepped into the night. He took a quick glance around before undressing, stuffing his clothes into a sack that he slung over his shoulder. Carrell crouched, and moments later, dashed off into the woods.
Damon swallowed as he turned to once again face his fallen kin. This time, they were claw marked from their faces to their feet. He shook his head, staring absently at what lay before him. A knot balled up in Damon’s stomach.
Moving to the window, he saw dawn was less than an hour away.
His whole body felt heavy.
He looked down at himself, standing stark naked in the window of the cabin.
“I guess everything is one step too far for someone,” Damon said in a hollow voice that shook in his throat. Alone in the night with the dead Skarachee at his back, it was good to hear a familiar voice, even if it was his own. “Sometimes we have to have someone to blame. Someone to hang for our crimes.”
Taking one final glance at the bodies, he turned back to the window and half-climbed, half-leapt through. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he was running.
One foot in front of the other. One, then the other.
Damon urged himself to move faster and faster until his foot caught a fallen, knotted branch, and his hands hit the ground. But instead of standing back up, he found himself in the middle of a fluid transition. Quicksilver flowed through his veins, and the next thing he knew, Damon was ripping through the undergrowth.
When finally he stopped to look back, the cabin in the woods was a distant memory.
The wolf warlock and his demon companion though, were not.
Lily. Must get to Lily. Have to tell her. I have to be strong, have to get back.
Visions of his beloved dancing in his mind, Damon pushed harder than he ever had. Branches whipped past, blurring his vision and sometimes tugging on his hard, silver fur. Leaves disintegrated under his churning, powerful strides.
He tried to force himself to keep his mind off his mate, off his Lily.
It’s all up to me. I have to stop this.
Even with everything happening, though, what kept him going wasn’t his duty to the pack. It wasn’t the possibility of some rogue wolf starting a war that didn’t need to happen.
The only thing he thought of was getting back to Lily.
I’ll keep you safe. I’ll make myself stay strong. It doesn’t matter how scared I am, how unsure. Nothing will happen to you, Lily. Nothing will keep me from you.
Nothing.
Four
“Damon?” I rolled over, or I guess flopped might be a better description, and expected to elbow Damon in the chest.
Meeting only pillow-top mattress, I figured he’d gotten up early, made some coffee, maybe squeezed me some fresh fruit or gone and picked some grapefruits for me. Usual Damon things. Either that or he’d left in the middle of the night to go investigate without me.
I blinked twice, rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and stretched my arms above my head until my shoulders popped. I saw that the sun was up, but barely. The sky had that overcast-but-not-really look, the slightly silver, almost blue-gray color.
Luckily, with our west-facing window I could stare out into the wispy desert morning clouds without having to blink at the sun.
“Desert dew” I remember my dad calling them.
That hurt. It always does to remember my mom and dad, especially now that their faces have started to fade a little in my memory. Grandpa Joe’s got a bunch of pictures of them of course, but sometimes, no matter how hard I try to remember, they slide away as soon as I reach for them.
Mindlessly, I went to the dresser where our clothes had been wadded up when we came in and pulled it open. Inside, as I groped around for a shirt, my fingers wrapped around a box.
A fuzzy, hard little box.
My heart skipped about four beats.
Out of the velvet cube came a shimmering white gold band with a small, but radiant diamond in the middle, which was ringed by four yellow sapphires. I turned it, back and forth, watching the gems glitter.
There’s no way this is Damon’s. No way he brought this. No way… just, no way. I’m sure it’s something Hunter’s mom left. Right? It must be.
Thinking about it, the ring looked pretty similar to the one my mom wore. And thinking that sent me down another path that threatened to send me to tears.
Shaking my head to clear out the old memories I pulled on some old khakis and a super-faded GI Joe t-shirt. This exact get up is what I wear when I do my best work, which is exactly what I had planned for the day.
Seeing that big, ancient courthouse in the middle of town yesterday sparked my interest. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, I knew Damon was worried.
I figured that if I couldn’t do anything to help wrangle his pack, I could at least poke through some old papers and documents and see if I could uncover some secrets.
I wanted to do whatever I could to take a little bit of the weight Damon felt, shoulder whatever was possible. Of course, getting him to let me help him without making him lose his new-Alpha confidence?
A funny looking bird hopped onto my windowsill, cocked its head and chirped, shocking me out of my daze. Right afterward, my stomach growled.
“Damon? You out here?” I called again as I closed our bedroom door, but the only answer was someone snoring down the hall.
I crept into the front room.
Sprawled out in front of me, bare to God and everybody, was Hunter, splayed out on the couch.
“Oh, well then,” I said under my breath.
He grunted and rolled over, facing away from me. His huge muscles heaved and relaxed with every breath.
Dirt trailed from the open door all the way to the couch, which gave me a pretty good idea what had happened to get him into this condition.
Immediately, my mind went straight back to Damon. His long, black hair, powerful arms, how his lips tasted, and the way he held me all rushed into me, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. I blushed as I stared at his naked friend, but something kept me from looking away. It was like there was a hook in my brain that held me in place.
I grabbed the sheet that was pinned underneath Hunter and threw it over him, as much to deflect my own uncomfortable feelings as to protect his nonexistent modesty.
Food. Get your mind on food and off the werewolf.
I let out a heavy sigh an
d headed into the kitchen. Normally I’d never do anything like this, but Hunter had told us to get ourselves comfortable and feel at home, and I’d rather root around in his cabinets than wake him up.
“Yep,” I said into the quiet kitchen. “Meat.”
God was there ever meat; bacon, sausages, half a ham still on the bone, and some leftover hamburgers from what he cooked us last night. The closest thing he had to anything vegetable or fruit related was a dozen eggs and what I guessed was a three pound block of cheddar.
Hard to say he didn’t warn us about the meat, though.
I laughed softly, opening another drawer and finding a log of sausage about the size of my arm.
“Oh my God,” I heard from the couch. “What time is it?”
I leaned, looking around the partition that separated the kitchen from living room. My body followed my head when I figured out that Hunter was still on the couch, and still covered with his sheet.
“About half past six. Want some meat?” I held out the sausage log, barely able to keep from laughing. “I was just about to cook some breakfast. By the way, have you seen Damon?”
Hunter looked at me with bleary eyes, shook his head and rubbed his hands through his hair. “No, well I saw him last night, I think. He was going out just as I was coming in. It’s… kind of a blur at the beginning and the ends.” He stood up and stretched, the sheet fell straight off.
I kinda wished the breakfast bar was shorter. Biting my lip, I turned around and got my blushing over with. Damon said it was nothing to be embarrassed about. He told me that they have some kind of hormones or pheromones or something that people can’t resist. That’s how they’re able to charm people and hide from the world.
Still, the idea that I was just unashamedly staring at Damon’s naked buddy was a little much.
“Oh Jesus, I’m sorry. I always forget about that.” Hunter grabbed the sheet and fashioned himself a makeshift toga for until he got his jeans.
“So,” I said, “meat? You weren’t kidding about this.”
Hunter let out a short laugh. “Gotta watch those carbs. But, no, I’m surprised Damon’s any different. Does he not eat like this?”
Plucking a raw sausage link off the smorgasbord of a plate I’d assembled, Hunter tossed it back and swallowed without chewing.
“Ugh. Raw?”
“You get used to it,” he said. “I can tell how much you mean to him.”
Great. The guy’s naked and it hardly bothers me, but the second he starts talking about me and Damon loving each other, there goes the red flush of shame creeping up my throat.
“I, uh, how do you mean?” I tried to sound cool, but that’s hardly in my emotional inventory. “I thought you guys hadn’t talked for a few years.”
“If you don’t cook those, I’m gonna eat another one.” Hunter laughed and flicked on the stove.
As close as I was to him, the immediate scent of sage and pork, mixed with whatever scent it was that Damon’s friend had on him filled my nose. Breath hitched a little in my chest. I pushed the rest of the sausages into the pan, hoping the sizzles and pops would snap me back to reality.
I coughed, as much to jar myself out of the werewolf trance as to clear my throat. “Sorry,” I said. “My brain doesn’t really work so well in the morning.” I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw that the coffee pot was already going. Had I done that?
“I set it last night,” Hunter said. “You looked confused. But anyway, yeah you’re right. It’s been a… two? Three? I dunno. It was after he moved since we last talked.”
“We had some times,” I admitted for some reason. “Back and forth, up and down.”
“Actually,” he said. “The last time I talked with Damon was during one of your… forth and down times. I guess is a halfway decent way to… you know what, never mind. He was all upset about a fight you were having. I guess you were just dating back then? Not like now. Here, let me.” Hunter reached across me and pouring a massive mug full. “Sugar? Cream?”
I nodded, waited for what would seem excessive for a normal person, and thanked him. I took a sip. “He talked about our fights? He barely talked to me, but that’s good that he’d go to someone else.”
“Nah, it wasn’t like that. He was scared, you know? Back then, you guys were… fifteen? Sixteen? He was just freaked out.” He paused for a second. “I was so dumb back then. It was right in my face, but now, seeing you guys together, it’s obvious how much you mean to him.”
“How do you know?” I took another drink. There was so much stuff in here that it was more like caffeinated sweet cream than coffee. I don’t have to say how good that tastes.
From the look on his face, I could tell I confused him. “How do I know what?” Hunter was stammering a little.
Was I really making this huge werewolf nervous? There’s a power I never knew I had. “You said you can see how much I mean. How?” I wasn’t gonna drop it, this was too much fun.
“He’s got this… look. I’ve known Damon since he was like three weeks old. We grew up together. We have a connection that, I mean I’m sure you understand it, with what you’ve been through together, but most people just don’t have any clue.”
Hunter poured his own cup – black of course, what a surprise – and drank to buy himself a second. “I mean, what you two have… that’s something that we, like, we…”
I nodded.
“We grow up being told that there’s one person, one soul, for all of us, and it’s up to us to find it. It’s kinda… it seems like no one ever does. My parents told me that the elder had chosen him. They told me when he left. They told me his mate, and his destiny, were both in Arizona. And that’s why he left.”
That got my attention.
“He never told me any of that,” I said. It was important enough to get me to stop sucking down coffee. That is important. “He said they moved because he needed to be closer to Poko.”
Hunter’s shoulders shook with a laugh.
“What?”
“Sorry, I just… I’ve never heard anyone throw around the elder’s name like that. We’d never call him anything but, you know, elder. Some of the oldest Skarachee called him Pokorann, but—”
“That’s what my grandpa called him. Apparently they’d been friends for a while.”
“Your grandpa? Knows the elder?”
“It’s so weird to hear you talk about him like that,” I said. “I didn’t know him as anything other than Poko. I went to his cave once to try and find Damon and he was a little bizarre, and kinda scary at first, but…”
Hunter’s eyes were the size of car tires. He was just standing there, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he said with a laugh. “It’s just… you know him. Pokorann is, well, he’s been the Skarachee Alpha for as long as…”
“He said seven hundred-something years.”
His jaw dropped wide open and he just stared. “Y… yeah, I mean…”
“But now I guess it is Damon’s turn.” Somehow, the gravity of what I just said hadn’t struck me before just then. “It’s his turn to take over for…”
I didn’t want to imagine sweet old Poko gone. In the short time we’d spent together, he’d treated me almost like a daughter. He taught me so much about the wolves, and Damon, and everything else, the thought of him not being around anymore was just too much.
Hunter was nodding, slowly. “Anyway, he’s,” he paused and I’m almost sure he sniffed. “I’ve never seen his shoulders relaxed like they are now, never seen his eyes so clear. He’s got… what I mean is, it’s obvious you two have something that most people never even dream of having. At least not in this life.”
That hung in the air between us for a second.
Thankfully, a noise out front caught both of our attention.
“Damon?”
A sausage popped in the pan, turning itself over. “Damon? Is that you?”
First I heard heavy feet outside, a jingling noise, like a belt or keys or something, and
then I saw him.
Covered in dirt, red lash lines all over his body, he stumbled inside as he zipped his jeans. The smile on his face told me he was okay.
“You’re a nudist too, now?” I said. “I found your friend splayed out on the couch and then you wander in with just as little dignity?”
From across the room, his smile disarmed me. Then his eyes flashed in the sun coming through the bay window next to the couch, and I was lost. “Nice to see you too,” he said softly. “It was… it was unbelievable. I’ve never moved like that, never felt the wind, the branches.”
Damon had this dazed, almost dream-like voice that was just too funny.
“Wait,” Hunter said. “You’ve never wolf run before? The new Skarachee Alpha just had his virgin wolf running?”
He looked like he was about to drop, so I ran over and wrapped an arm around Damon’s trim, muscular waist, relishing the warmth of his body against mine, and the smell of dust, the woods, and of his apparent effort. He turned and kissed me, then brushed a curl out of my face and stared straight at me.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I watched the moon go across the sky, I ran through the woods, over some desert, beside a deer, and then saw the sun rise, but… the whole time I couldn’t think about anything but you.”
He kissed me so deeply that I almost fell over backwards. Damon’s lips, dry and rough but still warm and delicious, brushed my neck, his hands slid down my sides and up under the back of my shirt. Fingertips curling against my skin made my knees go weak.
“Oh,” I gasped. “Oh, Damon.” The breath that I took in trickled slowly out of me as his kisses raised goosebumps all down my back. “You’re certainly feeling something.”
He silenced me with a kiss, enveloping me within him, and swirled his tongue hard against mine. When he sucked my lip and pulled away, I could feel the life coming out of me and chasing him.
“That was,” I tried to catch my breath. “That was…”
“It happens,” Hunter said. “It’s the spirit you get. When you make your first run, every sense you have comes to life. You feel things you didn’t know were possible.”
