Chapter 13
Having the werewolves in town for the past few days was like a nonstop party. Every house turned into a bar; every street, a drunken parade. Those rambunctious bastards had every undead citizen within sight laughing and just enjoying life.
I freaking loved it.
"We need more werewolves in Blackwood," I declared, toying with my mug as I sat at the Zombay Café watching a group of wolves, vamps, and zombies laugh so hard one of the zombies’ arms detached. They stopped, stared at the severed limb, then laughed even harder.
"What'd we tell you, Sexy Lexi?" Dan asked sternly from across the outdoor table. "No adding Rafe to the harem."
I held up both hands. "Oh, hell no. You six are plenty for one woman to keep up with. I just meant, their attitudes and auras are just kind of... fun. I don't think the people of Blackwood have enough of that."
Rob grunted his agreement and brought his mug to his lips.
Ben, who was sitting on my right, slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. "We'll change all that, Sailor. Once we're the kings and queen, we'll make Blackwood a kingdom to be proud of."
I leaned in and kissed the closest part of him—his neck—and my thoughts immediately drifted back to the other night at Peter and Elenore's house, when I was deliciously crammed between Ben and Cal on the couch. I glanced left. Cal just so happened to be sitting on my left today.
I wanted to make that little fantasy come to life in the worst kind of way.
"Stupid fucking shark week," I muttered with a glower.
Rob chuckled. "I already told you, Jewels, I’m not afraid of blood."
"Yeah, but we already had sex the other day. I think that would technically be violating rule number one, don’t you think?"
He merely shrugged. "Yeah, but if these other guys are too pussy to take care of you when you’re bleeding, then I’ll gladly get the job done again and again."
His voice was raspy, and his eyes were dark. Suddenly, my demon den was hot and ready.
"I don’t have a problem with it," Criss assured us as he stared coyly at his steaming mug.
"Neither do I," Ash added. Cal and Ben agreed. "Actually, I’m pretty sure Dan’s the only one who’s scared."
Dan opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it back shut.
I smiled and shook my head. "It’s okay. Periods are natural, nothing to be afraid of. But if you need time to get over your aversion to it, I’m sure the other guys will spare you by keeping me busy."
Dan pouted. "Damn it, that's not fair."
"It totally is," Cal assured him.
"Maybe if you join in on a group session and see the rest of us taking it like champs?" Ben suggested with a naughty grin.
Dan glared at him. "Maybe I will."
Ben shrugged arrogantly. "Guess we'll see."
Rafe appeared in the doorway of the cafe. He scanned the tables and chairs briefly before his gaze landed on us. His steps were confident and sure as he made his way over and flopped in an empty chair on Cal's left.
It was strange, seeing everyone sitting around outside sipping cocoa in freezing cold weather with snow coating everything. Usually people stayed indoors in the winter, keeping warm by a fire, but not in Southern Blackwood. It was always cold here, so they simply went about their lives as usual, completely oblivious to the temperature.
"Hey, guys, how's it goin’?" Rafe asked casually.
"Not bad," Ash replied with an easy grin.
Honestly, out of the seven of us, he was probably the most relaxed at any given moment.
Rafe sighed, sneering as he leaned back in his chair. "The cats are almost here."
Cats? As in, werecats? Like, Valinor was on their way?
"How do you know?" Cal asked him. He looked a little smug, but also genuinely curious, with his gloved hands laced atop the table.
Rafe curled his nose. "I can smell them. It's like a wave on the air, and it’s getting stronger."
Dan quirked a brow. "That's kinda fucked up."
"Life of a shifter," Rafe said. He turned to Ash. "You have a heightened sense of smell?"
Ash shook his head. "Only when I'm in animal form."
Rafe nodded. "Yeah, mine's higher in wolf form, but I can still smell incredibly well in human form too. It's... unfortunate sometimes."
Ben chuckled. "Like now?"
The werewolf nodded. "Fucking cats, man. They smell like piss and arrogance."
I couldn't help myself. "What do dogs smell like?"
Rafe's grin grew wide. "We smell like woods and moonlight and confidence."
Cal rolled his eyes as Rafe's clearly biased explanation.
Ben sat up in his chair, his brown eyes twinkling. "It's impossible to smell like something as intangible as moonlight. And based upon everything I've ever read or seen about cats, they're impeccably clean, so I doubt they smell like piss."
"Whatever, man." Rafe grabbed a mug and peered inside. "Whatcha drinking, anyway? Some sort of chocolate whiskey?"
"Ooh!" Rob moaned low. "That sounds delightful. Why didn't I think of that?"
Rafe chuckled, withdrew a flask, and poured some of it into a cup of cocoa. Then he poured some into Rob's. "Guess you just needed a good influence around to remind you."
They clinked cups and took a few deep gulps.
"Mmm. Damn, this is good." Rob licked his lips and smiled contentedly. When he caught me staring, he offered me the cup. "Wanna try it?"
What he didn't realize was that I was staring at his luscious mouth, not the cocoa, and that I'd rather try a lick right off his lips than from the mug.
Ignoring my lust-fueled instincts for once, probably thanks to current wolfy company, I grabbed the mug and took a sip of the cocoa like a normal fucking person.
And damn near spit it out.
"That tastes awful."
Both guys burst into laughter.
"Seriously. How could you ruin the taste of perfectly delicious chocolate like that?"
Ash leaned across the table and patted my mitten-clad hand. "It's okay, Sweets. Not everyone understands what true love of chocolate actually entails."
"She's a chocoholic," Rob said with a grin. "I'm an alcoholic. It's the perfect combo."
I raised my nose and huffed. "Maybe it'll grow on me."
Rob waggled his brows. "Want another taste?"
I sighed. "Fine."
It was an interesting taste. The richness of the chocolate combined with the richness of the alcohol... it was almost too much. But the sweetness did compliment the burn, and the harshness did tone down the super sugary aftertaste.
I handed him back the mug and swallowed. "It's a bit better the second time around."
Rob chuckled, but Rafe didn't. Instead, he groaned. "By the smell of things, your werecats have arrived."
I glanced up, and sure enough, Princess Veda was strolling through the snow-covered streets, her long legs covered in silver chain armor, a helmet resting casually on her hip. She didn't seem to have noticed us, but she was walking with determined steps all the same.
"Veda!" I shouted. My legs propelled me to stand, my arm waving wildly to catch her attention.
She paused, glancing around until her steely gaze landed on mine. Her lips curled slowly, and only at the outer corners, but it was better than a glare.
She approached the gate to the outdoor cafe seating area with a tall blond man following behind her. A short stone wall surrounded the space, with a door leading inside and a gate leading to the street, but instead of opening it, she lithely jumped right over. The man who could have passed for her taller twin did the same.
As they approached our table, her eyes landed condescendingly on Rafe. "Keeping questionable company, I see."
I smiled sarcastically. "We keep whatever company that keeps us back."
She raised a brow. "That makes no sense."
"You know what I mean." I rolled my eyes and sat back down, straightening out my skirts. "Anyone who's willing to
come here and help us is a friend of ours."
"Aren't you going to introduce me, sister?" the blond man asked.
Veda rolled her eyes but smirked. "Of course, where are my manners? I suppose I assumed your reputation preceded you. Storms, this is Verron, my older brother, third in line for the throne. Mother wouldn't send Ryker or Maven, so this is what you get."
I inclined my head toward them both. "Nice to meet you, Verron. Thank you for coming."
"Welcome," Cal said through clenched teeth and a forced smile. "It's always nice to have a testosterone-fueled environment, isn't it?"
Verron smirked. "Nothing like male rivalry to get the blood pumping."
These guys were rivals once? In what? Sports? Women? Chess club?
Veda rolled her eyes and ignored her older brother, her gaze scanning over all the faces in the crowd. "I see the wolves have taken over, shacking up wherever they please."
Rafe smirked but didn't respond.
"And there's another camp of soldiers on the southern side. Sohsol?" she asked in Rob's general direction.
He nodded. "Yeah, those soldiers are mine."
"Shall we set up on the western edge, then?" she asked, half talking to Rob, half talking to Verron.
"I think that's… our only option at this point," Verron decided.
"Yeah, that'd be great." Rob leaned forward, finishing his cocoa-holic beverage in one final gulp. "I'd like to discuss strategy with you guys this afternoon, if you're available. And after that, I think it'd be good if we all ate dinner together at the hall. It'll further demonstrate our unity."
"Unity." Rafe nodded his head. "Riiiight."
Veda scoffed. "My generals and I would gladly have dinner with the Storms, so long as the werewolves make themselves scarce."
Rafe stood and leaned over the table, getting closer to her face. "Oh, I'll be there, kitten. Just try your hardest not to drool at me across the table. It's not proper etiquette."
She glowered and put her own hands on the table, only the fingertips touching. "I'm more concerned about getting wolf blood on the table than drool."
Rafe sighed theatrically. "I fear that's not proper etiquette either. Who schools the royals where you're from?"
"Enough," Verron said, cutting their argument off before it intensified. "Of course we'll attend the dinner—werewolves included."
Rafe smiled wide. "Glad to see at least one of you isn't a total dick."
All at once, there was a dagger wedged into the wood slats between Rafe's fingers, Veda's fist on the hilt, a menacing look in her eyes. "As I said, I'll attend the dinner if there are no dogs sitting at the table."
My guys glanced around the table, locking eyes with me and each other.
"That's not really going to help with the unity Rob was hoping to achieve," Ben explained calmly.
"We're here to help you, not him." She glared at Rafe.
"Right," Ben allowed. "But in order to truly help us, we need you both to get along and participate in the meetings and dinners. We need that unified front to shine through. It's psychological warfare."
Veda's upper lip curled, and she removed her blade. "Fine. But werewolves and werecats sit at opposite ends of the table. I don't want to see, hear, or talk to him."
"Right back at ya, baby," Rafe mocked, flopping backward into his chair as Veda spun around and stormed off, marching back toward her army of werecats.
Verron shot Rafe a flat look before turning to Rob. "When and where should we meet you?"
"The hall," Rob informed him. "It looks like a giant barn in the middle of town. You can't miss it. Say, three o'clock for strategy, six o'clock for food?"
"Sounds good to me," Verron agreed in his guttural accent. He tipped his head at us before following his sister down the snow-covered street.
Silence engulfed us for a few tense moments.
"Well… that went well," Dan muttered, breaking the mood with his sarcasm, and finally we all busted up laughing.
A couple hours later, we were stuck in a room full of heated debate and barely contained hostility.
While the cats, dogs, fae, and demigods argued about the best battle strategies and tactics, Criss and I sat off to the side half listening, half zoning out. It wasn't that we didn't care. It was just that we'd already spoken our piece, and they were all too busy arguing to make any progress. We thought it'd just be easier to let them figure shit out on their own before we furthered the debate.
While Veda shouted at Rafe and Bria, Chrissen leaned into my ear. "I wrote a letter to the queens the other day."
My eyes went wide. "What?"
He grimaced. "I did it as inconspicuously as possible. I sent it from a peasant's address and to a servant's address near Blackwood Palace. She's loyal to the queens, especially Caroline—her true queen back from when Norsai was a kingdom of its own. She'll get the message to them quietly."
"What message?" I hissed. "This better not have anything to do with exhuming bodies, Chrissen."
Again with the grimacing.
"It does, doesn't it?" I asked. He didn't reply, so I turned to face him. "Criss, we have no idea how magic like that would affect you and Rob. You could be seriously hurt. You could be unconscious for months. You could..." I trailed off, and he nodded.
"I know. It's dangerous and stupid. But it's also the right thing to do. We've been given these incredible powers, and I think we should try to do good things with them. We start with the queens. After that, maybe we could even revive some of the innocents who die in the war?"
I gnashed my teeth together, grinding them as I mulled over his words.
His hand found my jaw and cheek and stroked softly. "Don't be mad, Firefly. I swear I'm not trying to upset you or anyone else. I'm just trying to help."
My eyes darted over to his, hard blending into soft, fear mixing with righteousness. I took a deep breath and glanced away. "I'm assuming the guys don't know?"
"No." He shook his head and released my face. "But I don't think Rob will be too upset."
I scoffed. "He won't be. He's just as demented as you are when it comes to this shit."
Criss grinned softly. "We're not demented, Alexis. We're just—"
"Too brave and selfless for your own good," I finished for him.
I couldn't help it; I allowed a soft smile to touch my lips. It was hard to be angry at him when he was doing his best. All he was trying to do was help.
Suddenly the argument broke out into laughter, startling Criss and me enough to draw our gazes. Veda had her head back, laughing up at the ceiling. Rafe clutched his belly as he pounded on the table. My Storms were chuckling too.
"Come on over, guys," Rob called to us with a wide smile. "I think we finally have that last issue ironed out."
"Better not be iron anything," Bria teased, and Veda and Rafe laughed even harder.
Their laughter was contagious, and I found myself chuckling as Criss and I rejoined the group. My chest warmed and filled with hope.
Maybe this alliance would work after all?
Chapter 14
A week later, our enemies still hadn’t shown up.
"I don’t understand what’s taking them so long," Bria admitted as she chewed on her bottom lip. "They should have arrived at least four days ago."
We were sitting in Peter and Elenore’s living room, discussing the impending war as the kids crawled, ran, giggled, and screamed like miniature tornadoes around the downstairs. They ran into the living room, then out into the hallway, into the kitchen, then into the dining room. They were like banshees on crack. No different than Gemma’s little siblings back home though.
The thought instantly twisted my stomach.
Gods… Gemma. Surely, she was still safe. Surely, the Storm King hadn’t found out the truth and tracked her down…
I swallowed hard, pushing those thoughts from my mind.
"Maybe they saw the werecats and werewolves and decided to back off until they could re-strategize?" Cal suggested.
"Cats eat birds for breakfast," Dan agreed with a smirk, referring to the werecats and harpies.
Cal nodded. "And it’s no secret up north that the fae and werewolves don’t exactly get along."
"Yeah, but we could," Bria decided. "Rafe, Orion, and I are proof of that."
I nodded. She had a point. Hell, even Veda and the werecats had warmed up to the rowdy werewolves over the past week.
"Speaking of fae." Dan turned to Bria, a curious look on his face. "Did your father ever figure out the magic in the water situation? The one he wanted my help with all those months ago?"
Bria rolled her eyes. "Sort of. It just slowly ran its course until it was out of everyone’s systems. A really strange couple of weeks, let me tell ya."
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I’d had a taste of fae magic once when Cal took me to Timberlune, and I couldn’t imagine dealing with an entire town that’d been affected. They probably had to shut everything down due to giggling workers, truth bombs causing fights, confidence encouraging atypical behaviors, and gods only knew what else.
"Yeah," Bria agreed dryly, reading my face clear as day. "Imagine streets full of streakers, rivers full of partiers, and bars full of giggling idiots. It was the best."
I could tell she was being sarcastic, but I couldn’t help chuckling again. The visual was just too good.
"Anyway," Rob said, getting us back on track, "I think it’s the cold keeping our enemies at bay. They’re not used to it. They don’t know how to deal with it."
Peter nodded his head, tapping his knee. "It is difficult to get used to at first."
Elenore entered carrying a tray of cookies and pastries. The luscious scent of sugar and baked goods filled the air, making my stomach rumble.
"Snack, anyone?" she asked pleasantly.
Rosie perked up right away, rubbing her swollen belly. "Can I use the ‘eating for two’ excuse to get extra cookies?"
Her smile was so hopeful and innocent, I almost wasn’t sure if she was teasing or being serious.
"Of course, sweetheart," Elenore cooed, bringing the tray over to where she sat on the couch. "Anything for my future sister-in-law." She gave Rosie a handful of cookies then turned to each of us. "Anyone else?"
Perfect Storms (Storms of Blackwood Book 4) Page 12