Blackwing Dragon (Harper's Mountains 5)

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Blackwing Dragon (Harper's Mountains 5) Page 16

by T. S. Joyce


  Rowan glared. “I didn’t even know they made two-foot-long sandwiches.”

  “Yeah…well…if a sandwich is shorter than my dick, it ain’t worth eating.”

  “God,” she muttered with an eye roll. They were currently sitting in the car on the edge of the Red Havoc Crew territory.

  The big cats tended to be ridiculously territorial, and here she was a six-hour drive away from Harper’s Mountains, headed to the heart of a notoriously reclusive crew. Why? Because between her, Bash of the Boarlanders, and Damon, they had tracked Ben Porter to a possible unregistered member of this crew who went by the name Benson Saber. She’d planned on coming alone, but Ryder had relentlessly annoyed her until she gave in and invited him.

  He wasn’t even being protective like Weston. Nope. He just wanted to get out of work at Big Flight ATV Tours for the day and eat copious amounts of road-food. He’d practically made a quilt out of empty beef jerky packages.

  “So,” Ryder said, licking his fingers loudly. “Are we gonna have to like…fight? Because I’m good with that.”

  “No! Ryder, don’t start a fight. We need information, that’s all. Pinky swear me.” She jammed her pinky at him. “Do it.”

  The redheaded muscle man pouted but hooked his pinky around hers. They’d done that a hundred times growing up. Pinky swears were binding.

  “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

  Ryder swallowed a massive bite like a python and looked at her like the answer should be obvious. “For pictures.”

  Rowan didn’t even want to know what he meant by that, so she got out and made her way toward the first small cabin in a row of ten. Ryder followed behind her, still eating the massive sandwich. At least he looked less threatening cradling a meal. His muscles were bulging out everywhere without his shirt to cover them, but he looked harmless enough when he talked to his tomato slices, encouraging them to “stay between the buns.”

  She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but just as her knuckles graced the wood, a scuffle sounded behind her and something cold and unforgiving shoved her head forward. The click of a gun was loud in the quiet of the surrounding woods.

  “Drop it, or I’ll pop your head off your body, fuckwad,” Ryder gritted out.

  Rowan lifted her hands in surrender and turned slowly to face the gun. Ryder stood there, triceps straining with the grip he had on the giant’s neck who had the gun trained on Rowan. His sandwich was on the ground, and his eyes blazed the gold of his inner snowy owl.

  “Please don’t hurt us,” Rowan said, her voice trembling. “I just came to talk to Benson Saber.

  The man had a single scar down his face, right through his eye, and they were as gold as Ryder’s with tiny pupils. Panther. His crop of dark hair was mussed, and he wore a sweater riddled with holes. He smelled of fur and dominance.

  When he spoke, his voice came out a feral snarl. “Ain’t no Benson here. Leave.”

  “Please,” she whispered. “I’m desperate. If he’s here, can you tell him I’m friends with Kane Reeves?”

  “Barret, it’s okay,” a deep voice said.

  Barret the Titan un-cocked his gun and dropped it to his side at the same time Ryder released his throat. Exposing his neck to the man that had approached from around the side of the cabin, Barret backed up a few steps.

  Rowan had seen a group picture with Benson and his brother Caleb flanking Kane in a cafeteria, and she canted her head at how familiar this man looked. He was just like his picture. Same eyes, same blond hair, same build. “Ben?” she asked.

  “Is Kane dead then?” Ben asked, crossing his arms over his chest and splaying his legs like he expected bad news.

  “No,” she whispered. “He’s been looking for you.”

  “And yet he’s not the one standing in my territory. You are.”

  “Your territory? You’re alpha here?”

  He narrowed his blue eyes suspiciously. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  “Because I’m happy you’re okay. Kane…he has fond memories of you.”

  Ben snorted. “You’re mistaken, lady. There are no fond memories from the hell I met the dragon in.”

  Other men were starting to gather now, crowding in closer. Three of them held handguns casually by their sides.

  “Uuh, is there somewhere we can speak in private?” she asked.

  Ben took his time answering. He cast Ryder a hard glance. “How do you two know Kane?”

  “Fourth best friend,” Ryder said without hesitation, raising his hand like a school kid.

  Rowan internally groaned and turned slowly, lifted her long hair off her neck to show him the bite mark. When she turned back around, Ben wore a slight smile.

  “Kane’s mine,” she murmured.

  “They’re all right,” Ben said, power pulsing in his voice. He twitched his head toward the row of cabins. “Follow me.”

  Ben’s crew crowded together, watching them leave, and it lifted the hairs on Rowan’s neck to give them her back. Ryder bumped Barret hard in the shoulder as he passed and said, “You owe me four-ninety-five for that sandwich, Dick.”

  She couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought Ben chuckled ahead of them. He pushed open the door of the largest cabin, third in line. He gestured for them to sit down at a table, and as she and Ryder settled in the uncomfortable wooden chairs, Ben poured something clear and pungent from a ceramic jug into a trio of small mason jars.

  “Fuck yes,” Ryder said, taking one of the glasses from Ben. “Can I make the toast?”

  Looking amused, Ben cocked a blond eyebrow. “Go for it.”

  “To not having to break my pinky promise to this wee beasty,” he said with a nod of his head at Rowan.

  They drank up, and Rowan coughed over and over at the sting of the moonshine. Someone had made this batch super-fucking-strong.

  “Beasty?” Ben said. “You don’t smell like a shifter.”

  “Yeah, dragon scales don’t have a scent,” Ryder said. “You probably already know that from being friends with Kane.”

  “A dragon then? A Bloodrunner?”

  Rowan nodded once and smiled.

  “Well holy fuckin’ shit, he found you then.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I always thought it would take a special brand of tough to catch the Kane. I imagine he’s not an easy man to love.”

  “Easy for me.”

  “Hmm,” Ben said through a tight smile. “Why are you here, Bloodrunner?”

  “I came to ask for myself if the prediction ever came true.”

  The smile fell from Ben’s face so fast his ears moved with it. “Don’t know what prediction you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do. Was it Beaston? I asked him, but he went all tight-lipped.”

  Ben gave his attention to the wall. She’d seen this tactic before from Kane, but she could be patient.

  “How is Kane?” he asked in a careful tone.

  “He’s okay.”

  Ben’s eyes tightened at the lie in her voice. “There’s a reason men like him and me are better off under the radar, you understand? Outing him could get him killed. Outing me will get you killed.”

  “Party foul,” Ryder said. “No threats. Minus four points for the panther.”

  “I’m not a panther.”

  “Horseshit, you smell like fur, and you’re alpha of a panther crew. If it walks like a duck and fucks like a duck…” Ryder tipped up the mason jar and gulped the leftover drops of moonshine.

  “Is it science?” she asked. “Did you find the cure? Or…the un-cure?”

  Ben huffed an angry laugh and leveled her with a fiery glare. His eyes looked lighter, but still within the realm of human. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to pull the tail of Kane’s dragon. You haven’t seen him before. I have. If it was any other shifter from Apex that had been stripped, I’d try to help, but Kane isn’t like the rest of us. He’s better off alone, and his dragon is better off dead.”

 
; “I can help him.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can! He’s stronger now. He can control it.”

  Ben shook his head for a long time, and his eyes looked hollow, as if remembering Apex again. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Bloodrunner. You know when people talk about the end of days?”

  “Yeah?”

  “In Apex, that’s what they called Kane’s dragon. End of Days. Do the world a favor. Do Kane a favor and don’t revive the damn apocalypse.”

  Rowan swallowed hard. “You’re saying it’s possible, though.”

  “Woman, are you hearing me?”

  “I love him, Ben. He’s not the same kid from the facility anymore. He survived the cleansing, he survived war, he survived countless fights, and infinite loneliness. He didn’t find a crew like you to lean on. He’s been out there by himself this entire time owning it. Kane is a badass, but you have to understand, he’s still empty. He’s missing his animal. Best case scenario, he lives a half-life until he draws his last breath, and I’ll be there, every moment, watching the yearning in his eyes every time I shift without him. I’ll have to watch him go pale every time our friends talk about their animals because it’s a reminder that he’s on the outside. You have yours back. You got lucky. Kane is still walking this world as a ghost. Do you remember what it felt like when you lost the panther? That bone-deep hollowness? He’s still in that all these years later, and it’s not getting better, Ben.”

  Ben twirled his empty mason jar around and around between his fingers, staring at it, his face green as if he was sick just thinking about the ache.

  The door swung wide open, streaming sunlight, and a little boy of five or six barreled in and crashed against Ben. He caught him and hugged him tight, tried to shield the little boy from Rowan, but she’d already seen his eyes. Bright gold. Little brawny panther cub, and he was towheaded just like his father.

  A woman stood in the doorway, a questioning look on her face. “Hello,” she said softly.

  “Jenny, take him in the back room,” Ben said.

  With a frown, Jenny held out her hand to the little boy. “Come on, Raif. Let’s go change out of your swimsuit.”

  The skinny little kid waved shyly as he passed Rowan, and when she looked back at Ben, there was no denying the animal inside of him. His eyes were bright like the sun. Like Ryder’s were right now. Like his son’s.

  “I trust you not to tell a soul, or the government will have a team down in my territory within the day. I’m alive because I’m a secret, you understand? The cleansing didn’t take with me, and they’ll have me back in Apex, experimenting, seeing where they went wrong. I have a good life here. I’m happy.”

  “I swear I won’t tell a soul other than Kane. You have my word as a Bloodrunner. I’ll keep your secret safe, Ben. You were kind to Kane in Apex. You made his time there bearable. It’s the least I can do.”

  “And you?” Ben said gruffly to Ryder.

  Ryder held out his pinky. “I pinky swear not to tell anyone.”

  Ben frowned, unimpressed, but he locked pinkies anyway. “I think you should both go now.”

  “Yeah,” Rowan said, her disappointment infinite. She had gotten some answers, but not the important one.

  Ben followed them out and stood in his open doorway as they walked away. “Tell Kane I said thanks.”

  “For what?” Rowan asked softly.

  “For being there for me when Caleb died.”

  With a sad smile, she murmured, “Sure. I’ll tell him.”

  “Bloodrunner?”

  “Yeah?” she asked, turning around again.

  She wiped her burning eyes and hated how weak she felt. Ben just stood there as moments dragged on, his head tilted, eyes watching her. At last he said, “It’s not science.” He pulled his shirt to the side and exposed deep scars that looked like they were made from fangs. A claiming mark. “It’s love that’ll bring on the End of Days.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The chop, chop of wood echoed down the winding dirt road to 1010. Rowan was sitting on the front porch lacing up her hiking boots, but at the sound, she scanned the woods up by Weston and Ryder’s cabins. The Novak Raven was cutting wood, probably for another bonfire tonight since it wasn’t cold enough for flames in the hearths yet.

  Or maybe it was. She ran hot, and autumn was fast approaching the Smoky Mountains.

  Flip-flap. Rowan frowned up into the tree branches across the dirt road, and there was Avery, landing on a low-hanging tree branch. Rowan’s relationship had grown with the Bloodrunners, and she’d found her tentative place. She’d grown to love the mates her friends had chosen, but for some reason, Avery and Weston had kept her at arm’s length. It was something she thought about way too damn much because she was a people pleaser. She didn’t like the thought of someone disliking her, and it had never been like this between her and Weston before.

  They’d grown up in the same crew. From birth, they’d been friends. More like siblings, so his hesitation around her hurt.

  Avery hopped down to an even lower branch and cocked her head, her black feathers shining like silk in the evening sunlight.

  Rowan pushed off the porch and jogged down the stairs. And with only a slight hesitation, she risked rejection and held her forearm out, stood still as a stone.

  Avery canted her head the other way, then spread her massive wings and soared toward Rowan. For a moment, she thought Avery would attack and pull up at the last moment, but she didn’t. She landed on her arm, claws digging into her skin enough to draw blood. Avery was big, almost as big as Weston’s raven, but she was still light enough for Rowan to carry comfortably.

  “I’m supposed to be the one to fix things between me and Wes, aren’t I?” she asked, stroking a knuckle down Avery’s smooth, feathered back.

  “Caw!” Avery left her beak open, panting, her dark eye locked on Rowan.

  “Right.” Balancing the raven on her arm, Rowan strode up the road.

  Weston wasn’t wearing a shirt. None of the boys did around here, but then again, they never had. Clothing hindered shifts, so they wore less. His arms and chest were covered with tattoos, and his suntanned skin glistened with sweat as he drew the ax back and slammed it into a log on the chopping block.

  He looked up long enough to cast a greeting smile to his mate on Rowan’s arm, but he didn’t spare the same courtesy to her. Instead, he grunted, “What?”

  “You’re mad at me.”

  “Not mad. Irritated.”

  Rowan settled Avery on the railing of the front porch and leaned her back against the house. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Where did you and Ryder go last week?”

  Rowan kicked a gnarled tree root that jutted up from the ground. “We went somewhere for Kane.”

  “Yeah, I figured, except Ryder’s bound by some dumbass pinky swear and is avoiding the hell out of me, and I can’t help but think the tension between me and my best friend is…”

  “My fault,” she finished quietly.

  Weston sighed and leaned on the handle of the ax. “Roe, this was supposed to go differently. When you came for me and Avery at Raven’s Hollow, I thought, fuck yes, finally she’s out of the mountains and she can get over the shit that happened. Because you couldn’t there. You were stuck. I saw it, your dad saw it, Damon saw it.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah, Wes! You think I was oblivious? You left. You drove away and started making your own life, and I was so jealous. I wanted to do that, too, but the thought of leaving was terrifying. It was easy on me to stay. Easy on my dragon. I saw the way everyone looked at me. I noticed the way they talked to me. Like I was weak. All the gentle nudging to go on vacation, to get out of the mountains, to find a job farther away. I fucking got it, okay? But I’m not like you. I’m not brave. I want to be, but I’m not there yet. You are at a totally different part of your journey than me, and sometimes I think you’re too hard on me. And
maybe you’re too hard on me because you’re being even harder on yourself in your head. Wes, what happened with Byron wasn’t your fault. You warned me off him, and I didn’t listen. That’s on me. I never blamed you.”

  Wes wouldn’t meet her eyes anymore, so she charged on because she knew she was right. “You fought every time someone came after Damon’s Mountains. As soon as you were old enough, you went to battle every time, no questions, no fear. And I looked up to you. I wished I could be more like you because you were this raven, charging into battle, and I was this fucking dragon shaking in the shadows. I love you like my own flesh and blood brother, Wes, and I’m sorry I’m not stronger, but I’m trying.”

  “I can’t sleep,” he murmured. And when he looked at her, his raven-dark eyes were rimmed with moisture. “I keep visiting you in that goddamned cabin. I keep seeing Byron hit you for crying.”

  “Nooo, no, no, stop, Wes.” Fuck, she didn’t know he could see the past! “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “I have to, Roe! I don’t know what else to do. It’s playing on a loop.” Weston threw his hat against the cabin and gripped the back of his neck. “I see you whispering to yourself at night when it was dark and your kidnappers were sleeping. You are begging your dragon to help you, and I didn’t know it was like that. I was so pissed at you for hitting one obstacle in your life and slamming on the brakes, but it was awful for you. I see them beating you so you’ll scream for Damon. I see them cutting your goddamn hand nearly off. I see Creed barreling through the wall and killing Byron, and I see the terror in your eyes, blood sprayed across your face. I hear you whimpering as you run from the house, the horror in your eyes as you look up, and you’re glowing because Damon’s fire is already coming and I’m standing right beside you screaming for you to run, but you can’t hear me. And then I blink, and you’re here, in Harper’s Mountains, looking up at the sky with tears streaming down your face. You’re older and you look so sad, just…destroyed. I know I’m going to lose you, and I can’t fucking stop it. It’s Byron all over again. Whatever you’re doing with Dark Kane, whatever is happening, you have to stop it. You have to save yourself.”

 

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