by Selina Woods
Knowing that my apartment would be the first place my brother enforcers would go to look for me, I headed in the opposite direction. Keeping my head down and shoulders rounded, I concealed myself as much as possible by traveling down alleys and staying off the main roads. The heat grew as the sun climbed toward the afternoon, my sweat making my shirt stick to my shoulders and chest.
The intense temperature and high humidity made my headache worse. Craving some deep shade to sit in for a while, I strode toward what had been a park a long time ago, but still had the tall trees that encompassed the grounds. I entered the cool shade with gratitude, already feeling the sweat dry on my flesh.
I discovered the grove already occupied, however. Hearing a soft, startled cry, I listened as a form broke through the bramble to escape my threat. Luxurious golden-brown hair tumbled about her shoulders as the female, the rest of her hidden by the trees, pushed her way out. I froze in disbelief. “Skyler?”
She turned back. “Ragnor?”
Instantly forgetting my vow to stay away from her, I said, “Yeah. What are you doing here?”
Sliding through the branches like the feline she was, Skyler emerged from the thicket. “I come here sometimes,” she answered, as always avoiding my eyes. “Just to think.”
I took a few steps toward her, seeing in the taut lines around her mouth, thinking of a quick escape route. Her terror of me seemed to have returned. I stopped, not invading her territorial bubble. “I used to come here when I was a kid,” I said, hoping small talk might put her at ease.
Ducking her head, she once again hid behind her wealth of hair. “It’s a nice place to sit when it’s hot,” she admitted, trying to smile.
“Want to sit with me for a little while?”
Naturally, she glanced back over her shoulder, as though working out the best way to run. “I should go—”
“Please?”
Perhaps she heard the note of entreaty in my voice I hadn’t put there intentionally. Or maybe she remembered how she helped me the previous night, and how we promised to start trusting one another. Either way, she gazed up at me, a hint of a smile playing around her lips.
“The magic word,” she commented lightly. “I can sit for just a few minutes.”
Finding a clear spot at the base of a tree, surrounded by bramble thicket and in the cool shade, we sat down. Our backs to the trunk, there was still enough space between us to make her feel comfortable with my presence. “Your face is not so swollen,” she said, peering at me intently.
“My head is still killing me, though.”
“That will take a little time, I guess.” Skyler pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I heard what you and Papa said this morning.”
Leaning my head back against the trunk, I closed my eyes. “So you know why I shouldn’t come see you.”
“Yeah.”
I listened to her take a deep breath. “It’s dangerous to be near you,” she admitted. “But sometimes, like last night, like now, it’s nice to be with you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess because of the vulnerability, the loneliness I see in you.”
I rolled my face toward her, opening my eyes. “I’m vulnerable and lonely?”
Resting her cheek on her arms, she gazed at me. “I think so. You hurt, deep inside.”
I looked away. “That’s from the fight last night.”
“What is it you see in me that makes you keep coming to the bar?”
“I feel safe with you.”
The instant the words were out, I wished them back. If I hadn’t recognized my defenselessness, that just informed us both how truly weak I was. Feeling her eyes on my face, I wanted to hide it, to avert it, so she wouldn’t see what I knew was there.
For a long while, she said nothing, and I waited for her to scoff, laugh. Instead, she spoke softly. “I guess we all want someone who makes us feel safe.”
“You think I’m an idiot?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Because I am. I did something a few hours ago that will no doubt see me dead by the end of the day.” I sighed. “And here I sit in the shade, discussing emotional safety with the lady I like very much.”
“What did you do?”
“Stopped one of Kanata’s goons from killing the owner of a café for not paying enough.”
“Oh, no. Ragnor, you have to run. Get out of here.”
I glanced at her concerned countenance, her furrowed brows, and liked her all the more. “I can’t,” I replied simply.
“Kanata will hunt you down.”
“Yep.”
Skyler finally looked away from my face. “I suppose it’s not in us to run.”
“It can be,” I said slowly, “when it makes sense to. But no matter where I go, he’ll find me.”
“I don’t want you to get killed.”
That made me smile. Reaching for her, I put my finger under her chin to turn her face toward me. “Thank you for saying that.”
Uncoiling her arm from around her knees, Skyler took my fingers in hers. “Please go away, Ragnor. If you leave his territory, he will not cross his boundary. You’ll be safe.”
“I can’t.”
Won’t was more likely the better word, but I dared not tell her she was the reason I couldn’t run to save my life. At last, she nodded and stood up, but kept my fingers entwined with hers. I followed her, standing close, enjoying the scent her hair, the sight of her beautiful, delicate features.
“I really do have to get back,” she said, her voice low.
Rather than releasing her, I bent my face to hers, closed my lips across her mouth. Skyler didn’t flinch back as I expected her to, and instead inched closer to me, her hands creeping around my waist. Setting my hands on her shoulders, I kissed her with restrained passion, letting her feel just how much I cared for her.
At last, she pulled away from me, both emotionally and physically. I recognized the regret, the turmoil in her, and wished I hadn’t been the one to put them there. It was my fault, for I should not have asked her to sit down with me, should have kept to my oath to walk away and leave her in peace.
“Goodbye, Ragnor.”
“Goodbye, Skyler.”
I watched her leave, vanish into the brush like a phantom, and turned away so I wouldn’t have to witness the glance, but did from the corner of my eye, that she sent back over her shoulder.
Chapter Three
Even if I changed my mind about fleeing New Orleans after all, the choice was taken from me not long after I parted from Skyler. I had no sooner reached the sidewalk when Starr and his pals intercepted me. Stopping dead when they circled around, I gazed into their blank expressions and was not afraid.
“Kanata wants to see you,” Starr told me, his body tense, his expression set. Obviously, he expected me to shift and charge headlong into battle where not one of us would escape unscathed.
I shrugged, smiling a little. “All right.”
Licking his lips, Starr glanced at his companions. “No fight?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
He visibly relaxed as he walked at my side. “He has all the brothers searching for you,” he said. “Why are you coming along without a fight?”
“Would it do me any good?”
“No.” Starr chuckled. “You are always surprising me, Ragnor.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“What happened today?”
“The café owner couldn’t pay it all,” I replied, striding with my hands in my pockets. “Business is so bad, they can’t feed their families much less pay his crippling taxes.”
“Yeah, I hear you. It’s the same in my neighborhood.”
We continued on without speaking much, neither of us knowing just what to say. We could hardly criticize Kanata, as he stood between us and the same poverty as the working civilians, yet, maybe they wouldn’t be so poverty-stricken if he weren’t so damn
greedy.
I was escorted into Kanata’s place, Lawson scowling behind his desk as I was brought in. He seemed like he wanted to say something as his mouth opened, then he shut it again. Maurice lurked, smirking, among the bodyguards, his jaws wide in a silent laugh. I made as though to lunge for him, grinning when his laughter cut off and he ducked behind the armed lion.
“Jackal,” Starr muttered as we passed them all and headed for the elevators. “I’ve never seen a wolf so craven.”
“Craven is as craven does.”
He glanced sidelong at me as we stepped into the opened elevator car. “You got more guts than most, Ragnor,” he said as the doors hissed closed. “You took last night well; now you’re walking straight to your death without flinching.”
“Flinching won’t do me any good.” I shrugged. “I’m not holding you responsible, Starr. I did what I did, so now I pay.”
“Listen, I’ll find a way to kill that miserable little wretch. Okay?”
I shook my head. “Leave him alone, Starr. Maurice is only trying to survive. The way we all are.”
He shrugged without speaking, and within moments, the elevator doors slid open. With Starr and his lions half-surrounding me, I walked into the lair of Kanata, the gang lord of New Orleans. He sat in a huge armchair with wide wings set upon a small dais, his throne, as though he were a king. He never demanded we bow to him, however, but I always suspected that was next.
Big and broad-chested, he wore a loose robe over baggy trousers with a belt that held them up around his waist. His close-cropped black hair almost matched his short beard, while his pale brown eyes watched me approach. “You brought him with no fight?” He sounded almost disappointed I hadn’t been dragged in, bloody and almost dead. Or fully dead.
“Nope. He came with us freely,” Starr replied.
Kanata rubbed his beard and regarded me while I gazed back, unperturbed. I guessed him to be in his mid-forties, and I knew he had ruled New Orleans for almost twenty years. “Why didn’t you fight, Ragnor?” he asked. “Do you think to plead for your life?”
“No point in fighting when I’d lose,” I answered. “And no. I don’t expect your mercy.”
Kanata waved his hand. “Go back downstairs. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
Starr smacked me on the back, then he and his friends headed back to the elevator, leaving me alone with the boss. He stood up from his chair and beckoned me to walk with him. He took me out onto the balcony, which fortunately was shaded at this time of day, closing the sliding door behind us. It occurred to me that he planned to execute me by tossing me over the rail and watching me scream all the seven stories to the street below.
“What happened this morning?” he asked.
“People are having a tough time paying your taxes, Kanata,” I replied. “Maurice would have killed the café’s owner, and then no one would pay anything. What’s worse? Some taxes or none at all?”
Oddly, he nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right. I know folks are leaving in dribs and drabs, and those who stay don’t have the customer base they used to.”
To say I was shocked was an understatement. “But you still squeeze everything from them, even knowing they can’t pay?”
Kanata laughed. “I need them to fear me, Ragnor, not just pay to keep me in fine clothes. If it were known I’d be willing to have them pay what they can, I’d have a rebellion on my hands. There are more of them than there are of us.”
“So that’s why you sent Starr to just teach me a lesson,” I commented. “Keep the fear level up.”
“And you took it well.” He peered at my face. “He did a good job on you.”
“Yeah, I still can’t get rid of this headache, though”
“It’ll pass.”
Kanata strolled away from me and leaned his arms on the railing, gazing down. “So what do you suggest I do?”
“About them?” I asked, blinking. “Or me?”
“Both, I reckon. If I keep killing the hands that keep me fed, I’ll not have anyone left to feed me. If I don’t kill you, I’m sending my guys a message that I can be had.”
“Not necessarily.” I leaned against the rail beside him. “Keep making nasty threats that keep the citizens scared shitless, take what you can. Times may improve, businesses might get busy again.”
“And you?”
“Well, I’d sure like to keep on living,” I told him with a smile. “You can always say I groveled at your feet, begging for mercy until you caved in. Or you can just kill me.”
“That prospect doesn’t seem to bother you much.”
“Everyone dies. It’s only a matter of when.”
“And how. I could kill you by inches.”
“You could. But then you’d also lose an enforcer when you’re already seriously low.”
Kanata grinned and wagged his finger at me. “I’ve always liked you, Ragnor. You’ve got guts, and you’ve got brains. You’re right. You’re too valuable to kill. So I’ll grant you the mercy you didn’t grovel for, but we’ll tell everyone you did.”
He paused and stared at me intently. “I don’t suppose you can look, er, shamed, contrite, embarrassed at having to fall on your knees when you walk out of here.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.”
He gazed out over the city again, the sky hazed over by the moisture hanging in the air. “I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone were cutting out because this has to be the nastiest place on earth.”
I laughed. “You were born here, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. Why couldn’t I have been born in Denver? I hear that place is almost a paradise. Mountains, sunshine, snow, no flipping humidity.”
Something chimed like a bell deep within me, as though the name “Denver” called to that weird pulling sensation. I shook my head to dispel it but couldn’t help but gaze to the northeast, where Denver was. I pushed it back down, trying to ignore it as I usually did, but it didn’t collapse without a fight. Then I realized Kanata had asked me a question.
“Er, what?”
He gazed at me, puzzled. “I asked if you were an orphan. I thought you told me that once.”
“Yeah, I was.” I rubbed my aching head. “Or am, rather. I don’t know where I was born, but I do have a vague memory of traveling with others like me to orphanages, then I was brought to the one here when I was about five.”
“I at least had parents, even if they sucked at being parents.”
“I remember a scent,” I said slowly. “A really nice one. I’ve always remembered it, through everything. I think it was my mother’s.”
“My mother always smelled like booze, cigarettes, and opiates.”
“Sorry, brother.”
Kanata shrugged. “It’s life. We don’t get handed silver platters these days. The wars took care of that.”
He turned to me, holding out his hand. I hesitated, thinking it was all a trick, that once I accepted it, he’d fling me over the railing. Inwardly shrugging, prepared for anything, I took it. “Look properly cowed when you head out, Ragnor,” he said.
I grinned. “I’ll do my best, but I suck at acting.”
“Do what you can.”
I walked through the sliding glass doors and back into his penthouse, wondering about the vagaries of life. Inside the elevator, I worked my expression into one of shame and woe, or at least I hoped it did, then stepped out with my head hanging. Watching my feet as I walked, I heard few mutters and curses. Starr gripped my shoulder.
“He let you live, bro?” he asked, striding at my side. “Did he make you beg?”
Not trusting my voice to sound convincing, I merely nodded. I picked up speed, and once out into the hot air and sunlight, I switched forms and galloped down the street on four legs. Out of sight and earshot of Kanata’s people, I laughed, roaring laughter as I ran, frightening everyone I passed into scattering to avoid both my menace and my obvious madness.
You need to stay away from her. I ne
ed to let her know I’m alive. What for? She’s better off with you gone. Night, only slightly cooler than daylight, had fallen as I headed for The Den. Most people had deserted the streets by now, and even still in my lion form, I could easily become a target. Kanata had never been able to clean his town of the marauders who blatantly ignored his policies that one must pay for a license to rob or commit murder. The packs roamed freely and vanished long before Kanata could pinpoint and destroy them.
With all my senses on high alert, I prowled the shadows, padding silently down the sidewalk. Too big to make myself invisible as many lions could, I still was able to make it difficult for anyone to see me unless I wanted them to. Pausing in the deep darkness of an alley, I sniffed the air, scenting the odor of raw meat and opiates.
Now that’s just weird. Lion shifters ate regular cooked food in their human forms yet hunted on four legs out in the rural areas on occasion to bring down a full deer or elk or wild hog to consume raw. Very seldom do they eat anything like that in the city unless—
Marauders had been known to hunt and kill humans and other shifters like the deer, wolves, or even other lions if they could. I peered into the darkness, seeing forms slither here and there, across the street and down half a block. As the light breeze brought their scent to me, not mine to them, they had no idea I was there.
Shadows slinked on four legs toward The Den. No lights showed through the windows, but that meant little. Skyler could be in there if her father could not take her home with him. She’s safe enough; there are bars on the windows and a good lock on the door. My uneasiness didn’t let me relax with that reasoning, however.
Sticking to the darkness, I lowered my body into a crouch and crept silently down toward where I saw the creatures vanish into the night. The odor was stronger now, more opiates than meat, and I knew that if these guys were high, then nothing would stop them. One could chew off a leg, and its owner would still fight on three legs.
Hearing their voices chuckle among themselves, I listened to their whispered talk. “She’s in there alone,” hissed a voice, a wolf I thought.