“Ok, Colt, but, you better feed them, and they stay in the one of the cabins, not in the house. Jake’s back soon from his trip and I can’t have him involved in any of this shit, you get me?” Iris is pissed at him and he senses it’s not just his late-night phone call that has put her in a mood with him.
“Yeah, I understand. Thanks, sis. Did I ever tell you you’re the best?” Colt says, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, keep that in mind when I have you changing all the beds and cleaning the cabins... including the toilets. We both know how you enjoy that job,” Iris replies a little less sternly.
Colt can hear the humour creeping back into Iris’s voice, she never stays mad with him for long. “Hey, how’s Clara?” Colt asks, a heavy feeling in his chest. “She’s scared shitless, Colt, and those nightmares, I’m really worried. She threw up everywhere after a bad one the other night, I had to shake her before she choked to death, it was scary. She was calling for you. I think she’ll be relieved that you’re coming home.”
“Fuck, Iris,” is all he can say. An unfamiliar pain stabs him in the gut. He shouldn’t have left her. “Just get back,” she says quietly.
“I will, see you in a few hours.”
“See you soon, Colt.” The phone goes dead.
He had to get back. He just hoped he was making the right move bringing these two along.
*** “It’s Colt, let me in!” he shouts through the closed door. Danny opens it, gun pointing right at him. It’s obvious that this guy’s never used a gun before from the way the gun shakes in his hands.
“Hey, don’t shoot, fucker,” Colt says, jokingly holding his hand up, trying to calm Danny’s shaking hand before he puts a bullet in him. Danny lowers the gun; relief washes over his face and you can see some of the tension physically leave his body.
“Did you sort them?” Sarah asks from the kitchen doorway. She has changed into jeans and an old Nirvana t-shirt with a pair of red Converse on her feet. Her dark hair is now dry and pulled up into a ponytail.
“You guys packed and ready to leave? We’ve got a couple hours of driving ahead,” Colt says, picking up a backpack from the floor.
“Where are we going?” Danny asks, looking even more scared than before. “We’re going to stay somewhere you can be safe until this shit is sorted out. How much money have you guys got?” Colt says, losing the little patience he’s holding on to. He needs to get back to Clara and see what state she’s in.
“We’ve got a few thousand pounds saved up, it’s not anything amazing but it will keep us afloat for a bit until we can find work,” Danny says.
“Fine. Get your stuff together, I’ll go grab my van, meet me down stairs in five,” Colt demands and leaves, taking some bags as he goes.
Thankfully Danny and Sarah are there waiting for him when he pulls the van up. He opens the back doors for them. Sarah gasps, horrified when she sees the mattress and curtain blocking the view to the driver.
“Get in!” Colt says from behind, her making her jump. She scrambles into the back of the van, Colt and Danny throw in the last bags, and Danny climbs in.
“At fucking last,” Colt whispers, frustrated. He slams the door on them. He sniffs the air, checking around to make sure there’s no other nasty surprises waiting for them.
Enter Sandman by Metallica blasts out of the radio as he brings the engine to life, wasting no time in getting the hell out of Dodge.
Please be alright, Clara.
Chapter Seven
Clara It was three in the morning and Clara was wide awake after another nightmare. She had just sent Iris back to bed; that poor woman had been frantic with worry when she had shaken her awake. She had sat with her and comforted her while the tremors had violently racked her body. The dream was the same one she relived every time she drifted off to sleep – the chanting woman and the one they called Dominus. They dragged her in and made her part of their torture, she felt the pain as the knife cut into skin of the people who were slaughtered, she smelt the burning flesh of Annabelle as she was executed, her scream of sheer agony penetrated right into Clara’s soul. Iris had awoken her out of the dream tonight before it replayed again, because it always did, it was on a loop repeatedly. The screams and the smell of blood, they seemed to intensify the more they replayed.
She had been violently sick in her nightmare last night. She had woken to Iris roughly shaking her, screaming at her to ‘WAKE UP’. Iris had said she thought she was going to choke to death; the fear in the woman’s face had told Clara how scared she must have been. In her delirious state, she had begged for Iris to bring Colt back and get him to lay with her like he did the other night. She had screamed that he was the only one could stop the evil in her brain. Iris had cleaned her up and sat with her, stroking her head until she had fallen back to sleep, whispering that he would be back soon. She was mortified that Iris had to witness that and had apologised repeatedly the next morning. Iris of course told her to stop apologising. They had talked about the nightmare and why it had made her sick. Just reliving the smell of her flesh burning made bile rise in her throat again.
She missed Colt an awful lot which was slightly weird considering she had only just met him. Maybe it was because he had saved her and brought her here. She needed to get herself out of this. She had never pined after a man or needed one to comfort her, she had always been tough and didn’t let her feelings rule her heart. The bastard who took her had really done a number on her sanity and changed the way she usually handled things; she was so conflicted. She decided trying to sleep was a waste of time and she could do with some fresh air. She had ventured out around the gated grounds a few times throughout the few days she had been here. The back garden was beautiful, so full of different types of flowers, trees, strange herbs she had never heard of, and a massive vegetable patch.
It was autumn but it wasn’t cold outside so she just grabbed the white house coat from behind the door and put on some slippers. She crossed the landing without turning on the lights, and made her way down the stairs. She moved carefully through the hall to the kitchen to the back door. The key was a little stiff in the lock and made a loud clonk when it opened. She cursed and stood there, quiet, to make sure she hadn’t disturbed Iris. She didn’t want to wake her; the poor woman must be exhausted after dealing with her and her relentless night terrors. Thankfully she heard no movement from upstairs so she opened the door and let herself out, closing it behind her. A light cool breeze blew against her face and she closed her eyes welcoming the fresh night air. The only noise was from the rustling leaves on the trees. She stepped onto the lawn and made her way to the back of the garden.
From as far back as she could remember she always loved twilight hours, they always seemed like the calmest time.
She and Emmie used to set up a tent in their parents’ garden when they were young and stay up all night just watching the stars and talking about nonsensical things like boys or music.
She reached the swinging bench at the back of the garden and sat down; she had seen it earlier when she had been helping Iris hang washing out. The bench was surrounded by trellis which had vines wrapped around it – she felt so safe sitting here. Clara sat back and closed her eyes; her mind drifted to Colt again and where he might be, he had been gone for two days now. The longer he stayed away the more dread built in her stomach. She had to see him again, tell him she was feeling things too, things that scared the shit out of her.
Her sister would think she was insane developing feelings for a guy she had just met. Emmie said she had dated Will for a year before they slept together, she had wanted to make sure that her first time was with someone who she could trust entirely, someone who loved and respected her.
Colt had awakened something inside her she never thought she would feel, it made her want something she had never thought about seriously before; she was always a brick wall when it came to romantic involvement with anyone. Now she had become a damsel in distress, and Colt was her knight – how very clich�
�. It didn’t help that the guy was hot and that body, sheesh, she would never get tired of seeing him shirtless. Her body reacted to her erotic thoughts and she felt the wetness between her legs. Seriously, what was happening to her? She tried to ignore the burning ache between her thighs by trying to think of anything other than Colt’s hard abs.
Her mind wandered back to her school days, they were happier times when her parents were still alive. She had always felt different to the other kids, there was always a sense that she didn’t belong. She was a loner and the few friends she did have she lost touch with after she left school. She had been tormented for being different, because of the colour of her hair and the unusual colour of her eyes. Kids were so awful back then. Although they tried she never let them get to her; she became resilient, and began fighting back. After being beaten up by a group of girls she had taken self-defence and kickboxing classes – they had boosted her confidence. She could kick some ass, if she needed to.
She smiled, remembering Tommy Brown, the cock of the boys, the way he had taunted her. He was awful, following her around the school yard pushing, poking, and calling her names. She lost it with him one day and broke his nose; she remembered the scream that came from him as her small fist had connected to his face. She chuckled to herself. The month of detentions and the grounding had been so worth it.
She lay down. Her mind and body felt cleansed being in this magical garden, as she looked up at the clear night sky.
Her mind wandered back to thoughts of Colt, bare chested and just wearing a towel. With her thoughts wandering lustfully she drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Colt The clock read 4.13am on Colt’s dashboard when he finally reached the hidden road through Shelby Woods. A sense of relief to be back home washed over him.
He guessed Sarah and Danny had fallen asleep because he hadn’t heard them for a while, they had probably got fed up with the silent treatment and his oneword answers. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk and hadn’t hidden the fact; he was a moody prick, but they would have to get over it.
All he could think about was getting back to Clara, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her until they were both breathless. His pants grew tighter at the thought of just touching her, fuck, he’d been a walking hard on since he first saw her.
He needed to tell her soon about the spectral community and about what he was. She might run away screaming once she found out he was the wolf she had seen the night Heather had found her, injured and scared in Hunters Woods. But she needed the truth, even if it meant she would hate him.
If what Heather suspected was true she would need to understand how important she was to their kind.
Once she knew, she wouldn’t have a choice She would have to find a familiar and form a bond with them. They would have to learn how strong they were together.
He had a young familiar in the back of his van but he wasn’t sure if Sarah would be powerful enough to take on a descendant of the great Annabelle.
He had stumbled across Heather by accident ten years ago, when he had just turned twenty. He had been drinking himself stupid because he and Iris had argued and he had stormed out, finding the nearest bar to drown his sorrows. He couldn’t remember what the argument had been about or what the bar was called.
He had only been in there just over an hour before Heather had sought him out. He had sensed the strong pull of her magic straight away, she drew him in. He had tried it on with her at first, she was hot and he had been a horny spectral pissed at life.
Her previous companion, Lucas, had been killed and she needed a fierce young-blooded familiar who she could train and help her learn some new magic she was working on. The conjuring spell for a new familiar had brought her to him.
They had bonded straight away, kindred spirits bound by their magic. She helped him to see his own world differently; although brutal and unkind at times, it was an extraordinary life filled with excitement and danger. He loved the thrill of it all.
Heather had helped him take the chip he carried around for years off his shoulder, making him realise his beast and his aggression were part of him, and they could be controlled and used to his advantage. She made him see that he wasn’t cursed.
He had thought he was in love with her for a while, but that love he felt developed into a mutual friendship.
How the fuck was he going to explain all this shit to Clara without her thinking he needed a strait jacket?
Her kind were normally raised knowing what they were. From the time they could walk and talk they were schooled in the old ways of magic; by the time they were eighteen they should have sought out their familiar, or at least be looking for a spectral bond.
Heather was going to have her work cut out for her, teaching Clara anything about their ways. The poor girl had been through hell at the hands of Heather’s kind so how was she going to feel when she found out she was tortured and beaten because they suspected she was one of them?
The anger built in his gut again as images of Clara battered and broken flashed through his mind. Bastards. There was the matter of Clara’s sister and her niece too – there was a chance that her niece could carry the Annabelle gene. It didn’t make sense that it was just Clara that sadistic bastard had snatched.
Emmie would have had at least some knowledge from childhood, of being told what she was. She would have remembered being taught spells at least; she was what, seven, when their mother abandoned them?
He had sorted out Emmie and Hope being guarded anyway, so he would know if anything went down and it would be dealt with.
If Heather was anything, she was efficient, especially when it came to business or looking after her own.
The only thing that made a bit of sense to him in all of this was that Clara looked so much like Annabelle – she was her auburn-haired doppelgänger. That sick fuck would probably be getting off on the fact that she resembled her so much.
He would be so pissed that she got away.
My beautiful brave Clara.
The big cattle gate came in to view and he stopped to unlock it before climbing back in, and driving into The Sanctuary.
He parked the van near to the cabins to make it easier to move the stuff in. He checked his phone, Iris had texted him earlier:
Colt Cabin 2 is empty. I’ve left the keys in the lock for you, there’s clean bedding in the linen cupboard next to the bathroom and bottles of water in the fridge. Please try and keep the noise down when you get back. Clara has had another bad night and she’s sleeping. X
“Guys, we’re here, time to get out,” he said, hearing them shift and groan. “I’ll help you get your stuff in then you’re on your own until later... I’ve got something that needs taking care of.”
Colt got out, not waiting for them to answer, and walked around pulling the doors open. He grabbed a few bags and led the way to the cabin. Danny and Sarah followed, looking tired and dishevelled – they were carrying the rest of their stuff.
Colt opened the door, turned the light on and took the key out, and placed it on the closest bedside table. Danny and Sarah walked in after him, putting their bags on the floor. “There’s clean bedding in the linen closet over there.” He nodded at the small closet next to the bathroom. “There should be soap and stuff in the bathroom, and there’s bottles of water and snacks in the fridge,” he said, and headed back outside.
“Thank you for helping us,” Danny said, emotion evident in his voice.
“Yeah, thank you,” Sarah said. “No problem. Get some sleep, I’ll come and get you when I am up and about. You can meet my sister and thank her, this is her place,” Colt said.
“Goodnight Colt, thanks again,” Danny said as Colt walked out the door. “Goodnight guys.” With that, he made his way to the house. As soon as he had the front door open he moved quickly and quietly up to Clara’s room; he needed to see her.
She wasn’t there. Shit. Where the fuck was she? He walked across the landing to his room. No sign. He headed back d
own the stairs. Maybe she went down for a drink. She wasn’t there either. Panic started in his gut. She co uldn’t have gone far. He rested his hands on the sink and looked out into the garden trying to wrack his brain. He didn’t want to disturb Iris, she would have known he would check on Clara so she would have said if she had slept in another room. That’s when he saw something white laying across the swinging bench at the back of the garden.
His heart skipped a beat and relief washed over him; he made his way out to the haunting figure sprawled across the wooded seating.
As he got nearer he realised she was sleeping. The small smile on her perfect mouth made him wonder what she was dreaming about. She was breath-taking.
“Kiss me... Colt,” she whispered breathlessly, still asleep.
She was dreaming about him. His cock, which was already painfully hard, twitched. He didn’t know what to do.
Fuck it. She wanted to be kissed and he was damn sure he was ready to kiss the shit out of her. It was all he had thought about, since the first night.
He knelt and slipped his right hand under her head and planted feather kisses along her soft lips. Her floral scent filled his senses; he needed more. She stirred and her eyes fluttered open. He was expecting her to push him off or slap him, she just looked right into him as if she was trying to decide if she was dreaming.
“Colt,” she whispered, and he felt her hands in his hair, and the pull towards her parted lips. He crushed his mouth to hers and she opened willingly. She tasted better than he imagined, like toothpaste and heaven. She moaned into his mouth and he nearly lost control.
He pulled his mouth from hers and feathered more kisses over her jaw. “I need to slow it down, I am losing control. Fuck, you look so beautiful, Clara.” She smiled shyly and pushed herself up. Her hair cascaded around her face, All his self-control was slipping. Her gorgeous emerald eyes met his filled with lust. He took her mouth again; primal need took over and he sat on the bench, dragging her over him so her legs straggled his. He could feel the heat from her pussy through his jeans – he knew if he touched her she would be wet and ready for him. He released his mouth from hers and pushed her hair out of her face.
Unfamiliar (The Vandran Legacy Book 1) Page 8
