The Sacrifice: A Paranormal MC Romance

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The Sacrifice: A Paranormal MC Romance Page 10

by Jessica Gadziala


  "Got you," the white wolf said, big hand grabbing my hip, stopping me from falling—or clawing out Lex's fur. "There you go," he added, pushing me into my spot. "Legs tight like you're riding some good dick, babe," he demanded, then slapped Lex's rump, who immediately moved to stand, making my thighs tighten immediately.

  "We'll take it easy," the leader declared before dropping down toward the floor, exploding back into a wolf seamlessly before he landed.

  With that, everyone fell into a trot behind their leader as we made our way out of the cave and back into the woods.

  We broke through the tree-line just as the sun was coming up, allowing me to watch a low, one-story structure come into view. Not so much a home, I wouldn't say, as a building. Ugly red metal walls, a flat roof with a railing, large windows.

  But, it appeared, this was the clubhouse that the leader had referred to, since we were all making our way in that direction, passing a couple sets of wooden tables in the back as well as a giant fire pit, surrounded by massive tree stumps to be used as seating.

  The white wolf slammed a paw into the back door, nails scratching downward, making a horrid noise that made my teeth hurt for a moment before the door was pulled open from the inside by an older gentleman, shoulders scrunched forward, giving the pack a small smile before his eyes fell on me.

  "For fuck's sake, Sully," the old man said, looking over at the white wolf, the motion making the side of his neck visible, where there were four massive claw marks. "A witch? What kind of trouble are you bringing to this pack?" he added as Sully burst into human form again, as did all the other wolves. Including Lex, whose smooth human back left nothing to hold onto, leaving me spiraling backward, slamming hard on the ground, letting out a grunt, then a whimper as the pain ricocheted through my head. "Jesus Christ," the old man grumbled, throwing his hands up at the pack as he made his way toward me, extending a hand.

  "We saved her, Pops," Sully said, shaking his head.

  "Saved her then did nothing about her wounds, then gave her another one. Genius. The whole fucking coven will be coming down on our heads."

  "Please," Sully said, shaking his head. "When was the last time you heard about a single witch, let alone a coven? We were getting her back here to take care of her foot and hand. Or would you rather us lick her wounds clean?" Sully asked before looking at me. "Come on. We'll get you cleaned up."

  Having no choice, and genuinely in need of cleaning up lest I develop an infection, I followed Sully into the clubhouse.

  The inside was better than the outside let on.

  Sure, it was almost utilitarian in its style with the cement floors and lack of window treatments, blankets, pillows, anything soft and homey, but everything was clean and well taken care of. To the left inside the back door was a massive living room area with several couches facing a massive television. There was a long wooden dining table with at least sixteen seats. And, finally, in the main room, was a kitchen with an oversize island, cement countertops, and appliances of the silver metal I'd heard Ace refer to as stainless steel.

  To the side of the kitchen was a doorway that led beyond. Bedrooms or bathrooms or storage, or all three.

  "Sit," Sully demanded, pressing me into the head seat at the dining room table as he walked passed me toward the doorway, his rear muscles dancing as he went.

  I glanced back around, seeing all the others filing inside, each and every one of the men stark naked still. Their light, and tan, and brown, and black skin, gleaming with sweat, was taut over powerful muscles. Every single one of them was unabashed at their nudity as they moved past me to follow Sully into the unknown space.

  I'd seen more nude men in the past week than I had ever seen in my life.

  I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like for normal, human women. If their lives were a parade of various male sex organs. Or if, perhaps, this was only happening to me.

  It was also interesting to note that while each of these naked men was fantastically good-looking, well-built, powerful, and confident, not a single one of them seemed to affect me the way that Lycus had.

  "Can I get you something to drink? Eat?" Pops asked, moving in front of me but staying a respectable distance away, making it clear he was no threat.

  He was afraid of me, I noticed.

  I wasn't sure anyone had ever been afraid of me before.

  Even after I burned Lycus, he hadn't shown me fear. Just surprise and interest and worry.

  If these shifters believed I had powers—even ones I did not possess—then that gave me an advantage. It would possibly even help secure my freedom.

  You know... so I could go back and be imprisoned with the demons again.

  Oh, the Gods.

  What a mess my life had become.

  "Something to drink would be great," I said, giving him a small smile.

  "Cold or hot? We have coffee. Fresh. Get it before they all pounce on it."

  I didn't want coffee. I didn't like coffee. That said, I was exhausted from not sleeping, and I needed to be able to keep my wits about me.

  "Coffee would be great."

  While Pops moved to make my coffee, Sully came back out from the other end of the clubhouse, his hands full of various items. He was still nude from the waist up, but had slipped into low-slung—very low-slung—pants.

  "I figured this might offend your delicate sensibilities less," he said, waving toward his pants. "Usually, women don't complain about seeing me naked, but the way I hear it, witches tend to be all about their fellow women."

  I said nothing to that, not sure what there was to say. He was right and he was wrong. There were some witches in our coven who enjoyed the company of other women in more carnal ways, but not all, not even most. We simply believed that being without men and the complications they often brought on, made us more powerful.

  "Hand," he demanded, squatting down in front of me, reaching for a plastic bottle, and squeezing some of the liquid onto a fluff of cotton.

  I thought nothing of it, holding out my hand toward him, until he touched me, and the pain shot through my cuts and up my arm.

  The surprise of it, the shocked anger of my body, had the sizzle starting, uncontrollable, making Sully curse and yank backward, holding onto his hand, eyes wide.

  "What happened?"

  "She shocked me," Sully said, then shook his head as he looked down at his hand. "No," he corrected. "She burned me. What the fuck?" he asked, looking at me, brows drawn together.

  "I told you not to mess with a witch," Pops said, bringing my coffee over, but being very careful not to so much as brush me as he put it down on the table.

  "I didn't expect for your ministrations to burn that much," I told Sully, feeling apologeticI didn't let that slip into my tone, wanting to seem strong, confident, like my powers weren't a surprise to me, but rather a natural reaction to pain being inflicted upon me.

  "It's alcohol. It burns," Sully informed me, reaching to show me the bottle.

  "I understand that now. We don't use alcohol in my coven. I can clean the wound myself now that I have the items," I told them, gritting my teeth so I didn't cry out while I cleaned my hand then my foot with the wretched alcohol. "This cream," I said, waving it at Sully. "This will work as a salve?"

  "Salve. Christ. I need a drink for this," Sully declared, turning to walk away toward a cabinet in the living room, pulling a bottle of amber liquid out, the same stuff Drex liked to drink so much.

  "Yes," Pops said, motioning to the tube of cream. "That will work as a salve. Prevent infection. But you are going to want to wrap your feet up. Those cuts are deep. You could leave your hand out. I will have a word with Lex about biting pretty girls he saves in the woods."

  "I probably pulled his fur pretty hard on the way here, so I can't be too mad about it," I said, shrugging, as I slathered the cream onto my hand with another cotton puff, then carefully did the same to my foot.

  "Here, do you want some help?" Pops asked when I tried to
wrap my foot.

  "She's not a child, Pops," Sully objected.

  "No, but she is a lady. You'll excuse these brutes," Pops said, shaking his head as he carefully took the wrap from my hand. "They haven't had a woman around here in a while. They've clearly forgotten their manners." He'd said the last part loudly, a chastisement to Sully who took another drink in response. "There now. All better. What do you say we get you something dry to wear?" he asked. "You're shivering."

  I hadn't even noticed.

  My head was racing too much with everything else going on to notice something so small.

  "Yeah, heaven forbid she gets pneumonia," Sully agreed, snorting. "The coven might hex us all."

  Pops and I both chose to ignore that as he led me back through the doorway that opened up into a hall. "They're rude," he said, shaking his head. "I try to talk manners into 'em, but they're not my boys. There's only so much I can do."

  "I appreciate your kindness," I told him, offering him a small smile.

  "It's nothing. Here. Through here," he said, leading me into a small room with a bed, nightstand, and dresser. "I have some clothes in here that should fit you," he said, rummaging in his dresser, pulling out a button-up shirt and a pair of sleep pants in dark gray. "I wish I had something more appropriate."

  "These will be fine," I told him, already dying for something dry and warm on. And maybe something a little less feminine, a little more concealing.

  "You can stay here," Pops offered. "This is my room," he added.

  "I can't stay in your room."

  "Sure you can. I don't need it right now. And it will allow you to get some rest. In private. While we all figure out how to get you home."

  "She's not going anywhere, Pops," Sully said from the door, shaking his head.

  "Your father would be rolling over in his grave," Pops growled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his dresser, pulling out a spare blanket and pillowcase, setting about making the bed.

  "We burned my old man. But I get the sentiment. Doesn't change shit. Come on. She is dead on her feet," Sully said as Pops fussed with the blankets, trying to get them just so.

  "Thank you again," I told him as he passed me. "I really appreciate it."

  "Don't mention it," he said, but his eyes were warm as he moved into the hall, closing the door behind him.

  I listened for a moment before moving to the door, carefully sliding the lock, cringing when it clicked. But no one came running.

  Certain I was alone, I stripped out of my wet clothes, slipping into the new ones that hung around my body, concealing my form beneath, then grabbed my wet clothes, draping them over the foot of the bed.

  I could hear the shuffling of feet down the hall and into the common space, the low timbre of male voices engaged in some sort of intense conversation.

  While my weary eyes begged for the bed, my survival instinct had me rushing across the room to the small window, moving the heavy curtains to the side. My fingers had just grabbed the pull on the window when a face appeared, making me jump backward, a gasp rushing out of me.

  Lex.

  My supposed savior.

  He was good-looking as a human like the others. Tall, fit, black-haired, dark-eyed, chiseled features. There were tattoos up and down his arms, across his neck, giving him an even more dangerous look as he gave me a head shake that said there was no escape.

  Stifling a whimpering sound, I closed the curtains, climbing into the bed, curling up under the blanket Pops had provided me, and letting the helplessness sink in.

  My situation wasn't much different, all things said.

  I was with a group of creatures who wanted me for something.

  I was being treated reasonably well.

  I had no idea what my fate was.

  I shouldn't have been sad. Not much had changed.

  Except here, nothing was familiar.

  And, of course, there was no Ly.

  It was stupid that my mind went there, but it did, until the well inside that had felt drained dry the night before filled up and overflowed again.

  I could hear a hissed curse outside the window as the raindrops pelted the pane.

  "Not a-fucking-gain," Sully hissed from the front room.

  The rest of the day was a tear-soaked blur followed by a nearly numb abyss as I lay there, waiting on my fate.

  But then, out of nowhere, I could hear it.

  Something familiar

  Something oddly comforting.

  The rumble of motorcycles.

  Coming in this direction.

  Ly.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lycus

  I still felt like I could smell the wet dog scent I'd picked up on in the woods as we drove away from our estate, making our way up the hill.

  We didn't know the exact location of the shifter headquarters, only that it was up in a clearing in the woods, allowing them to Shift anytime they wanted without worrying about being seen by anyone else.

  It wasn't until about half an hour into the drive that I noticed something.

  Rain.

  On the horizon.

  But concentrated in a small area.

  Lenore.

  That was the only explanation.

  It was bright everywhere else.

  I lay on my horn, getting the attention of the others, then pointing toward the sight.

  Ace's tight shoulders seemed to ease a bit at having a direction, and proof that I was right about the shifters having the witch.

  We knew the shifters.

  Of course, we did.

  We all ran in the same circles, after all.

  But while we dabbled at being bikers, the shifters had been a legitimate MC for at least three generations. They dealt in anything that involved beating the shit out of people, largely working as hired muscle these days. They'd worked crowd control at a couple of the rallies we'd been to.

  We had always made it a point to avoid one another.

  The shifters had an ugly reputation from the beginning.

  Then fucking Drex had gone ahead and stolen one of their mates from them—only for a night, mind you, but that was more than enough for them—a generation back, and shit got ugly for a couple decades.

  Leadership had changed since then.

  From what I'd heard, the son of the leader we'd taken out was now in charge.

  And if he figured out the witch was valuable to us, who the fuck knew what he might be capable of? Just for revenge's sake.

  The only thing working in our favor was that we could pay.

  And they weren't exactly rolling in it. They made do. But men who made do always wanted to lighten the burden a bit. We could do that.

  Ace had a lot of skills, not the least of which was figuring out how to make human money, then compound it until it was almost laughable how much he had stashed away. It wouldn't hurt our bottom line to trade for Lenore.

  And since Ace had high hopes for this Sacrifice, he would pay whatever they wanted.

  We pulled into the lot of their clubhouse a while later, finding it different than the last time we had seen it, when it was nothing more than a shack made of spare timber.

  Whoever Junior was, he had better taste—and slightly more resources—than his old man.

  At the sounds of our bikes pulling in, the front door opened and half a dozen men stepped out.

  The smell of dog met my nose, something familiar and no less offensive than it had been a generation ago.

  "You have something that belongs to us," Ace informed them, moving to the front.

  "Yeah?" one of them asked, moving forward as well.

  Even from far away, there was a resemblance to his old man. Tall, fit, blond. This was the new leader.

  "Yes."

  "And what makes you think that?"

  "I can smell her," I declared, moving in beside Ace, who cast a quick glance at me, curious, making it clear that Lenore's scent that was so strong to me seemed lost on everyone else.

  "
If she is yours, what was she doing lost and upset in the woods?" another one asked, tall, dark-haired, tattooed.

  "She's not that bright," Ace supplied. "She got lost while we weren't at home."

  "Or was she running from you?" the leader asked, brow arching up. "A witch. I wonder what a group of demons would want with the likes of her," he mused, pinning Ace with an unwavering glare.

  "We will be more than happy to make a trade," Ace offered.

  "See, I know you are all rolling in it," the leader said, chin lifting. "But I can't help but wonder who else might be around who would be willing to pay more."

  "She's not a fucking piece of furniture. You can't sell her," I snapped, drawing his attention.

  "I think I can, actually. You want to try to stop me?" he asked, and I could feel the Change starting, my fingers elongated into talons, my horns starting to poke through my skin.

  "Ly, stand down," Ace hissed at me.

  "Sully," another voice called, belonging to an older man who seemed vaguely familiar in a time-drenched way. "Take the money and let the witch go. She can't bring any good here."

  "Listen to your grandfather, Sully," Ace agreed, having a much better memory than I did, apparently. "No one wants another war. From the looks of things, your pack has barely recovered."

  They'd been a much bigger organization once upon a time. And we'd had a big part in decimating their numbers, while not taking any real hits ourselves. They couldn't kill us, after all. Though there had been some nursing of wounds for a while after the last big fight, the one that had their leader dead, and their pack too defeated to go on.

  A low growling rumbled through Sully at Ace's words, a sound imitated by his men.

  "Shit," the old man hissed, sensing things coming to a fever pitch.

  "No," a different voice joined the group, familiar, feminine.

  I couldn't see her, hidden behind the large bodies of the shifters, but I could smell her. The sweet fruit. But mixed with something else. The tangy scent of her blood.

  Another growl rumbled from Sully as he started to bend forward, something I knew from experience with the older pack preceded their shift into wolves.

 

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