Dire Wants_A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan Page 15

  “Your apartment.”

  “You said I couldn’t go home, and now you’re going to leave me there?”

  “No, I’m not leaving you anywhere. I just need to show you exactly how much danger you’re in, in case tonight didn’t teach you,” he said.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be going out right now.” In truth, she was partially terrified, even though his truck was built like a tank. She watched another one follow them out of the garage and down the back road in the rearview mirror.

  “We’re fine. The Weres have retreated. The trappers won’t send more of them to attack us. They’re trying to distract us instead, so they can get to you. You’re the damned weak link, Kate, and until you start realizing we’re here to help and not hurt, we’re going to have huge problems.”

  She hugged her arms around herself.

  “There’s a sweatshirt in the back, too.”

  “Stop doing that,” she snapped.

  “What? Saving your life or reading your mind?”

  She almost said both but stopped herself. “I’m sorry, Stray. This is all new to me.”

  He didn’t answer her, but even as his hands gripped the wheel harder, his driving slowed to a more manageable level for her. She took a few deep breaths. It was probably a good idea to see her apartment. Although the attacks should’ve been enough, she still wasn’t convinced this was all about her.

  “It’s not all about you, but you’re a big part of it,” Stray said. “Sorry, but, man, your thoughts—it’s like you’re talking directly to me.”

  “Is there a way out of all of this?”

  “I’m it, Kate. You can’t get another familiar until I’m dead, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  She blanched, knew she couldn’t lose her one source of protection. Then again, from what she’d seen, Stray couldn’t deny her when she called him. “You got upset when I mentioned that you might be human.”

  He glanced at her. “There’s no part of me that’s human. I can take this form to function in the world at large—that’s the way it’s always been—but make no mistake, I have no human frailties.”

  “But Gwen does?”

  “She’s been made immortal, but the mix of human in her blood along with the wolf makes her a rarity. We have no idea what would’ve happened to her if she hadn’t been touched by the Elders,” Stray said. “They’re in charge of us. Our deities, so to speak.”

  “So this human form is . . . fake?”

  “It’s part of my shift. Brother Wolf’s other form. His other half.” He smiled. “I know it’s hard to take in. But this form is stronger, faster, and indestructible. Any medical exam you performed on me would blow your mind.”

  “But Gwen . . .”

  “She’d show human signs. A blood type, which we don’t have. Now it’s my turn. Does your anger and fear always work on people the way it did with Shimmin in the woods? Because you didn’t try it on me.”

  And you damn well deserved it, she thought, and he snorted. “You going to answer my question?”

  “Honestly, I’ve never thrown grown men like that before.”

  “What exactly has happened before?”

  “Well, objects can fly around. Things shake. And with people, they kind of freeze. I mean, they can talk but they can’t move. But that’s only happened twice in my life. I was probably the angriest I’d ever been—it happened to the same person.”

  “That’s a type of binding spell.”

  “That’s bad, right? That I can’t control those things. Powers. Whatever.”

  “You’ll learn, and fast. But no, anger’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s the most valuable thing you’ve got, especially when it’s saving your life.”

  “I know you think that I was trying to make good on my threat to put a spell on you, but that was honestly the farthest thing from my mind. I didn’t try to make you my familiar,” she said finally, after a long pause. “But suppose I do get control and I use it against you by accident—or your brothers?”

  “It would take a lot to spell us.”

  “Okay, so I can’t hurt you, and you’ll keep me safe until I save your brother. At least I know I’m useful to you for a little while.”

  “There’s so much more to it than my brother. If you’d let me explain, I think you’ll understand.”

  “I don’t seem to have a choice.”

  “Neither did we,” Stray told her.

  They rode in silence for a little while until he pulled into the alley behind her apartment. The other truck pulled in directly behind them. She waited until Stray gave her the all clear before she tumbled out basically into his arms.

  “Forgot the truck was so high.”

  “I don’t mind,” he told her. His eyes shifted to the wolf’s for just a second, and that hot coil in her belly threatened to unfurl again.

  Seeing him fight turned you on.

  And damn, he heard that too. He had the sense not to mention it, just raised his brows and gave a satisfied grin. “You should put a shirt on.”

  “I’m not cold.” He tugged her behind him into the back doorway, no key necessary. “Besides, I might need to fight again.”

  Bastard.

  “You already called me that,” he said.

  When they walked, her following him through the narrow hallway that led to her apartment, she swore his shoulders brushed the walls of the hallway. Brother Wolf’s eyes watched her, and she stopped herself from reaching out to touch him, although it wasn’t easy.

  She brought her mind back to matters at hand. She wondered if her landlord was searching for her. Rent was due soon and she’d need to empty the place out . . .

  But that thought was soon gone. Once Stray opened the still-unlocked door, the mess inside wasn’t what she expected.

  There was nothing left. There were scratches, deep grooves, along the floor and the walls, and there was blood, but there was nothing else left of hers. She hadn’t had much of value, but it had been hers. “Where did my stuff go?”

  “Shimmin’s people probably came back and got rid of it.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re . . . erased, Kate. From the police databases. From social security. For all intents and purposes, you’ve fallen off the map.”

  “You had nothing to do with that?”

  “No, but I would’ve done it if they hadn’t.”

  “For my own safety, of course.” The anger built inside of her, this time at the right people, the ones who’d tried to hurt her.

  “The witch who passed her powers to me—she died so men like Shimmin couldn’t use her. If she hadn’t died, she might’ve been forced to work with them. Or she might’ve agreed to, like Seb did. What makes you think the same thing won’t happen to me?”

  “When she passed the powers, she strengthened them,” he told her. “You won’t be as susceptible.”

  But there were still no promises. “I want to know more about her. Why she picked me. I want to know everything.” The lights flickered wildly and the floor began to shake under them. And for once, she didn’t care that it was happening, didn’t care that Stray was witnessing it this time. For the first time, she liked this power, because at least her feelings were known.

  She waited for Stray to argue with her, but strangely, he didn’t, just led her out of the apartment into the cold air. Before they got into his truck, he cleared his throat and said, “I need to touch the brand.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She glanced at Vice and Cyd. Stray must’ve motioned to them to get into their truck and they did so. When she turned her back to him, she lifted her shirt a little and asked, “Why?”

  “Because I have to find your grimoire—your book of magic. It belonged to your witch, and now it’s yours.”

  “And it�
��s going to help me?”

  “It’s a book of spells. Each witch has their own personal one, and sometimes it’s passed down by generation, through families. You practice them, add to it. You make it yours,” Stray explained. “It’s one of the final puzzle pieces for you.”

  “How do we find it?”

  “I can track it. I’ve been sensing it for half the day, but I can’t quite scent it.”

  “You can track it?”

  “That’s something I’m really good at. I tracked you and look where we are now.”

  Where indeed. Somewhere between magic and reality, hanging on to both by a tenuous thread.

  * * *

  Stray was really trying not to invade her privacy, but Kate didn’t realize how loud her thoughts were, how they were basically directed at him like darts to a board.

  Why she wasn’t able to do the same to him when he left his mind open, well, he didn’t know if she was being polite or if she was simply distracted. But the fact that Seb could get to her . . . well, Stray needed to protect himself better.

  Kate stood there, looking over her shoulder at him. Waiting for his touch. He rubbed his hands together, but it wasn’t necessary. His body ran warm, like the wolf he was, and when he touched the mark, his fingers lined with the witch’s, a current ran through him, far stronger than he’d felt earlier, a sensation of belonging, both him to her and her to him.

  And that was different, a confirmation of what he’d been feeling the entire time. Everything clicked. The need for more threatened to overwhelm him, and he didn’t want to be denied. Wouldn’t, not for much longer.

  “Ah, Stray?” she asked, because his hands slid around to her belly and his face lowered against her neck. He bent his head, suckled, marking her lightly on the side of her neck, enough to make her shiver against him in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. “Is this because of your wolf?”

  “He likes it, but this is my show now.” He turned her in his arms and kissed her then, his tongue stroking the roof of her mouth, teasing her until she moaned against his mouth. Her hands gripped his biceps and he pressed his arousal to her belly, wanting her to feel him. To know that she wasn’t scaring him off any longer.

  He’d had hours to think about the familiar aspect to all of this—and strangely enough, he wasn’t running screaming for the hills.

  Yeah, she wasn’t scared of him any longer. No, sir, because he could smell her arousal, sweet and hot and all for him, and there was no fear. “Let’s find your book.”

  “And then?”

  “And then . . . I’m going to do this again. And much, much more.”

  She didn’t protest. And then Brother Wolf nudged him. He caught wind of another trail, and this time, it was exactly what he needed. “Come on. I’ve got a lead on the book—a good one.”

  She scrambled into the truck and he climbed in and took off down the alley with Vice and Cyd following. He noted that she kept touching her lips with her fingers lightly.

  And then suddenly the mood changed and everything shifted. “What’s wrong?”

  She drew in a tight breath. “That part of the dream—where I die—that’s new,” she said softly.

  He gave a quick glance in her direction. “You never remembered that?”

  “No. Is that important?”

  “Very.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel as the truck barreled down the highway in the dark, Brother Wolf guiding him on this hunt. “You’re other, Kate, because you’re a witch but also because you’ve seen the afterworld. That’s going to give you a connection to the spirit world that most don’t have.”

  He thought about Rogue. He could help her with all of this so much better than Stray could. Jinx, too.

  But she chose you. She wants you.

  And he wished he could believe it was of her own free will, because her scent was killing him. He wanted to stop the truck, drag her across his lap and take her until she clung to him, calling his name.

  He shifted as his cock grew impossibly hard. Brother Wolf growled at him to keep it together, which he would normally find funny as shit.

  But not tonight.

  “Are your brothers still following us?”

  He glanced in the rearview. “They’re there. We’ll be okay. Truck’s bulletproof. Fireproof. Wereproof.”

  “What about witchproof?”

  He sure as hell wasn’t. “That remains to be seen.”

  “You’ve known a lot of witches?”

  Knew them, stayed away from them. “Mainly Seb. We know a lot of lore—witches, vamps, wolves. We keep track of it.”

  She twisted her hands together. “Is there like a special witch’s chat board or something?”

  “Actually, yes. But you’ll also need different resources. Internet’s far from reliable—anyone can say anything they goddamned want, you know?”

  He grew quiet then, because they were close. He slowed down. The urge to hunt was overwhelming, but he wasn’t looking for someone. This time it was something, her magic guiding him without her realizing it. It wasn’t spelling him. No, it was more like a gentle finger under his chin keeping him on track.

  Chapter 22

  “We’re close,” Stray told her. They’d been driving around for the better part of half an hour, Stray stopping every once in a while to stand outside the car, breathing in the night air. Kate longed to join him, but her legs still trembled when she realized how much was on all their shoulders.

  She was secretly hoping this turned out to be some kind of crazy prank.

  Why would he joke about something like this?

  He wouldn’t. He’d been dead serious. And her hands were shaking again.

  Wordlessly, Stray reached into the backseat and pulled out an open bottle of Jack Daniel’s, handed it to her. She took a sip, winced and asked, “Why does Leo Shimmin hate wolves?”

  “It’s a long story, stretching back to Viking times.” He paused. “They started out wanting to avenge the deaths of their ancestors, but over the centuries, it’s twisted into something horrible. They’re called weretrappers and they want to enslave wolves and take over the world. And I realize it sounds like the plot of some horror novel, which makes it worse, because it can happen. It will, if you don’t help. And humans are clueless.”

  “I can’t believe . . .” She stopped because she tried to imagine and couldn’t. “I know there have been instances where humans have tried to eradicate others, but . . .”

  “It’s going to be worse, because the wolves are strong. Coupled with the black arts, the demons, well, not only are they going to gain control, but they’ll lose it just as fast to the very powers they’re trying to control. They’re playing with fire, and everyone is going down because of it. Except us.”

  “How does helping your brother work into all of this?”

  “Rogue can communicate with the spirit world that Seb is conjuring. And in order to help him, we have to kill the witch who’s calling to you. Many of his spells will live on without him, but not the one he placed on my brother. Seb’s got other witches working spells, but he’s the most important one.”

  “I have to kill an immortal witch. How exactly is that supposed to work?”

  “You could try to force Seb to become mortal, to give up his powers.”

  “And hurt another girl like me.”

  “And save billions of people.”

  Another half an hour and several more swigs from the bottle, she realized two things—her head couldn’t spin enough to rid her of what Stray filled it with, and she couldn’t get drunk.

  Stray looked sympathetic, but he hadn’t held anything back. “That book of magic’s looking pretty good now, isn’t it?”

  “Suppose I can’t—”

  “You can. The witch who touched you was as pow
erful as Seb, maybe more so. And you’re almost to your twenty-third birthday . . .”

  “It’s tomorrow,” she said quietly. “Exactly ten years from the time the witch touched me. Happy birthday to me.”

  “You’ll need a lot more than that bottle to get drunk,” he confirmed. “It’s your power—it absorbs . . . everything.”

  “That sucks,” she muttered, took another vicious swig in defiance. She should be saying, “I want to go home,” but that basement apartment wasn’t home. Nothing had been since the accident, maybe wouldn’t be again. “Stray, I can’t do anything you’re asking of me.”

  “You will. I’ll help you.”

  “If I can’t—”

  “A whole lot of people die. Innocent ones.”

  “So I take one life to save many?”

  “That’s the basic idea.”

  They rode in silence for several more minutes until Stray suddenly turned along a dirt road that seemed to lead to nowhere. Finally, it opened to a small parcel of land and a decent-sized cabin.

  “That’s Lila’s—your witch. It’s spelled still so no one can simply stumble upon it,” Stray said. “The grimoire recognizes us, so that’s a good sign.”

  “Lila,” she repeated. “That’s a pretty name.” It was the first time she’d felt anything but anger or fear toward the witch.

  Lila’s cabin was well off the beaten path. As far as she could tell, they were an hour from the Dire house. As she approached the porch, lightning split the sky, a brilliant display of angry light and crackling noise as it struck the ground close by.

  She swallowed hard. “That’s for us, isn’t it?”

  Stray didn’t answer, pulled her inside the cabin. When he looked back at her, his eyes were what he called Brother Wolf’s—and he was hunting something.

  She held tight to his hand as he navigated the pitch black of the cabin easily. She heard the scurrying of small animals, tried not to think about spiders and God knew what else until he stopped and began to dig at the floorboards.

  She held the flashlight where he was working, for her benefit, not his. But then he got up in frustration and began to tap the walls, looking for hollow spots. She moved the flashlight off him and on to the rest of the room.