Wrath's Patience (Seven Deadly Sins Book 3)

by R. A. Pollard

  “Yes, you are a good hunter, and I thank you, but not in her bed. I am running out of sheets. I can’t get the blood out.” He was one frustrating feline that had taken a liking to the name Belle had given him.

  You make poor food. I bring good meats. No more poor food. The large cat proceeded licking his paws and cleaning his ears, considering the conversation to be over and done.

  “You don’t say poor food to bacon.” That perked him up. His head rose, and he eyed her with a considering look.

  You may make the bacon. The bacon is good food. I will have some. With that he jumped from the counter and exited out the giant cat flap in the back door with all the royal grace of… well… a cat.

  Layla shook her head, hearing Lexi trotting down the stairs, no doubt in her overly large Star Wars PJ’s. She yawned and slid onto a chair at the breakfast counter, her hair wild around her, still half asleep.

  “You talking to that damned beast again?”

  “One day I am going to come downstairs and find he has brought home ‘good meat,’ and left it to bleed out all over Mother’s old rug.” Layla shook her head and poured her sister a cup of steaming coffee.

  Lexi groaned in abject pleasure as she picked up the vile bitter drink Layla couldn’t stand and took a huge mouthful. Lexi did love her coffee, and Layla knew she found it amusing to have her make it every morning, despite the fact it turned her green at the gills. Layla ignored her chuckling twin and sipped her herbal tea, the pair of them going through their morning ritual of staring each other down over their choice of morning beverage.

  “Auntie Lexi!” Layla laughed into her mug as Lexi barely had enough time to put down her mug of hot coffee before she was barreled into by a small child and hugged, summarily having her lap claimed.

  “Morning, Butterbean. You sleep well?” Lexi reached around her niece and grabbed her coffee. Both sisters had learned early on to keep the cup moving, that way the dramatic movements of the overly excitable child didn’t hone in on the stationary beverage.

  “No, I had that dream again. The poor dog is hurt—you and Mommy need to find him and bring him here. Then we can make him all better!” Annabelle’s bright ice blue eyes met her mother’s, and for a moment they shone with ageless knowledge. Sometimes Layla wished she had a normal five-year-old, but then again, her family was hardly “normal.” She brushed off the shiver that rushed through her and met the concerned eyes of her twin. Yeah, Lexi had felt it, too.

  “I told her as soon as the chores are done we will go find her ‘dog.’ Until then, young lady, go upstairs and get dressed. Make sure you wash your hands after touching that thing, and get your butt to the table for pancakes.”

  “Pancakes!” That was the secret password for instant movement of a small child. She literally jumped from her aunt’s lap and ran up the stairs.

  “She is dreaming of a hurt dog?” Lexi’s voice intruded on Layla’s thoughts as she began pouring pancake batter into a simmering hot pan.

  “Yes, a few nights now. Says he needs us to help him. I guess our gifts are genetic. She sees so much more when she looks out that door than I do.” Layla kept her back to her sister as she flipped a pancake, her mind worrying over the implications of her daughter having gifts close to theirs.

  “That is why I am never having a child. You think I want to subject it to this? Feeling people reaching for you with their very souls because they know you can heal them. Not happening. Besides, I don’t need anyone else. I have you and Butterbean, and that is all I will ever need.”

  Slipping from her seat, Lexi moved around the counter and stood behind her twin, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle. “Layla? What’s wrong?”

  “Do you think I did right? Bringing her into the world without a father, into this pot of crazy?” It was a fear she’d had since the day she decided to keep the small blueberry of a baby growing in her womb. Would she do right by a child living in the middle of nowhere?

  “You did more than right. She may have a soul older than ours, but she is the light we needed in our lives. She is strong and special—just like her mother, and her incredibly talented aunt. As for Richard, he was a dick, don’t go thinking of him. Nothing but a coward. She is better off not knowing him, and you know that too, when you are not crying over our breakfast.”

  “Shut up.” The pouty tone made Lexi grin against her sister’s back, and she gave her a squeeze before returning to her morning libation.

  Layla could not stop the smile spreading on her lips. She loved her sister, and damn the woman, she always knew how to make her feel better about anything. The sound of excited pounding feet on the upper floor brought her back to the fact she would have a very hungry beast of her own downstairs in five seconds wanting pancakes not soggy with tears.

  She popped the maple syrup into a pot of warming water, and turned around to lean back against the counter. Annabelle had yet to ask about her father, but given how intuitive her daughter was, it did not surprise her that the child had not asked about him. He had ended up being nothing but a sperm donor, despite all his flowery words and promises he couldn’t keep. He had run like a scared rabbit. Layla considered reaching out to him once or twice, but fear he would want visitation—or worse, get some kind of custody of her daughter—stopped her heart dead.

  That asshole was not getting within five feet of her daughter, and if she had to set Lexi and the two lazy bobcats on him she would. What she regretted the most was how Lexi had hardened against any kind of relationship with anyone after what happened to her. Her sister had announced she would not be finding a man or a woman; she would live by herself if she had to, but she was not letting anyone other than family close. Well, family, and a fat bobcat that had claimed her bed the first night, and announced that when the “two-leg” one was gone this was his spot.

  Layla smiled to herself, turning around to flip the perfectly golden puffy pancakes. Out of the pair of them she was the “mother.” She did the cooking and kept the house. Lexi had a very successful online business for the photography she was becoming well known for. One advantage to the wild animals of the world coming to Stillwater, Montana, was her sister got to take pictures and make art from them. Hell, even some of the mythical beasts, the ones that could be photographed, had been willing. As long as the photo was highly Photoshopped, and looked more like art and picture combined. As for Belle, she liked to help out around the house—but would rather be playing outside.

  Christmas was a few weeks away. Soon they would be getting their tree from the farm in town, and the sky was already chilled and fresh with the promise of snow. It seemed to be late this year, and only a small amount had fallen. Belle had told everyone not to worry, it would snow when Jack Frost got here. With a grin, Layla took all the fixings for the pancakes to the table just as her daughter’s pounding feet came rushing down the stairs.

  Belle was in her chair and waiting as Layla placed the steaming stack of fluffy mastery down. She kissed her daughter’s frizzy hair and returned to the kitchen to grab the bacon and juice. Lexi was already at the table stuffing her face with syrupy goodness. Yeah, she knew she had done good; she had a wonderful family, a beautiful daughter who shone with love and adored nature. What more could a woman ask for?

  The cold barely seeped into his thick fur overnight, but the ice covering the world outside was testament to winter breathing down on the mountains. The great wolf stood and shook out his fur. Only one nightmare last night. A being with wings stood over him, as he had done a hundred times before. His words etched into his very soul like scars, the malice and sick joy that shone from that winged man had sickened him. “Wrath, right? Pitiful. Let’s give you some real wrath to experience, hmm?”

  That was all he could remember—those words ricocheted around in his brain. As sleep left him, hunger once again tore at his insides. The control he got from the hunt was fading more quickly. The madness was slipping over him more easily each time the sun rose. Shaking that haunting voice
from his numb brain, he stretched as the sunlight started to filter into the shallow cave he had recently claimed as his own. He breathed deeply and the cold air chilled his lungs. A rare sense of peace washed over him, and for one small second he did not have to worry about anything. The world was open before him. It was a new morning, and there were new things to hunt. Hunger began to eat at his insides, and the peace was gone.

  He padded softly from the cave and dropped down from the overlook onto the soft soil. The scents of damp earth and fresh dew on the leaves reached his nose. Dropping his muzzle to the forest floor he breathed in deeply. There was a weak scent of elk that passed by here a few days ago. That piqued his attention. Starting off at a jog he loped over the terrain. Animals rushed for cover as they sensed him coming. A chipmunk chattered at him angrily before rushing up a tree to safety. The great beast snorted watching the little creature hide from his presence.

  The wolf paused, tilting his huge head to one side, and listened. The sound of running water reached his ears and he headed in that direction. He paused at the edge of the foliage, sniffing the air for threats before stepping out into the open and heading toward the shimmering stream. His ears flicked backward and forward, listening to the area around him. Sure he was alone, he lowered his head and began to lap at the cold water.

  He remained lapping at the water until the sound of voices reached his ears through the silence. He lifted his head quickly and bolted into the brush in a second, his dark fur camouflaging him perfectly with the shadow of the bushes. But he was unable to stop the low growl from leaving his throat. How dare someone encroach upon his land? This was his territory. He rumbled low and lowered his body to the damp floor. He would watch, and he would hunt them, stop them from coming back. This was his place. His mouth watered with the prospect of the kill to come.

  “Mommy, can I get the water this time? I know I have to be careful not to touch it.” Layla smiled as Annabelle trotted to keep up with her long strides. Today her daughter got to help feed and tend the animals that were there for healing. She was so excited she might get to touch the pegasus that had been staying with them for the last few days. Ever since they had left the cabin she had been repeating everything she had been told about the elusive creature, including the fact they needed to drink fresh water not touched by humans.

  “Okay, just be careful on the rocks.” Layla handed the bucket to her daughter and watched her hair bob up and down as she sprinted toward the glittering river. She just stepped right in, not even caring about her sneakers or the icy water.

  Layla shook her head and followed behind, watching carefully. She had no worry about the animals in the area—they all knew her, and knew she was a friend. But something was off this morning. Everything was too quiet. She couldn’t hear any birds, which was odd for this time in the morning. A cold breeze blew past her, and Layla narrowed her eyes, watching the tree line. She knew she could reason with any predators out there. If they happened to run into the mountain lion that tended to hang around here they would be fine, unless she was in heat.

  Frowning, she turned her head and listened, reaching within her for that endless shimmering pool of power. She sent out a call to the beasts of the forest and was shocked and wary that all she got back was static. Animals were very rarely silent—totally silent. Something must have scared them away, or forced them to hunker down. Layla felt her heartbeat rising, the hairs on the back of her neck tickled, and she knew she was being watched. Turning around quickly, she swallowed hard and reached for Belle.

  “Come on, time to go. Now, Belle.” The urgency in her voice brought the little girl up short, and she frowned at her mother.

  “But I don’t have the water right yet.” Her low whine was silenced by her mother snapping at her.

  “Annabelle, now!” The little girl winced slightly. Layla regretted her harsh tone immediately, but she needed her daughter out of that water, now.

  Her daughter’s feet had barely touched the damp bank when a low growl sent Layla’s heart racing. She turned, focusing on a huge black wolf streaking out of the brush toward her daughter. His dangerous teeth were bared, his eyes flashed blue fire, and she knew he meant to kill. There was nothing gentle about this animal as he aimed for the prey within his sights.

  Layla moved quickly, pulling Annabelle behind her and shrinking down to cover her daughter with as much of her body as she could. She thought about picking her up and running, but an animal this large would out-pace her in seconds. All she could do was throw her power at the beast and hope to break through the haze of killing rage that seemed to surround his form.

  Keeping her daughter sheltered, she lifted her hand and pictured her power rushing from her like a fireball. Hell, she had been watching too many movies recently. Her nerves screamed in pain as she threw her power from her body, wincing as it slammed into the beast, ripping a roar from it.

  The great wolf-like creature skidded to a halt. He shook his head, pawing at himself and stumbling. He huffed and growled low, lifting his head and locking his blue gaze on her. Despite the deadly look he gave her, she got the feeling he no longer wanted to tear into her or her daughter. She dropped her hand and picked Belle up in her arms, wincing. No doubt throwing her power out like that had done some damage to her arm. She would ask Lexi to look at it when she returned home.

  Keeping her eyes locked on the huge wolf creature, she backed up slowly. The animal continued to growl low, his fur standing on end, baring his deadly fangs to her gaze. She felt Belle shaking, her daughter eerily quiet, her face buried against Layla’s neck. If she was not afraid the wolf might rip her to shreds she would scold him for scaring the living hell out of her child.

  There was no way this was a real wolf. She had seen them—this mountain had a pack that roamed around, and she knew it well. This beast was something else. He had the large hunched shoulders of a wolf, with the huge black mane around his throat, long snout, and deadly piercing eyes. His fur seemed to move independently of his body, almost flowing as if it were trying to change to blend into the environment. Layla had no doubt this animal could vanish in darkness with no issues. His paws ended with huge, deadly black claws like those of a great cat, rather than something of the dog variety. For all the terror he imbued, he was magnificent, powerful, and strong, with eyes that swirled with blue. They captivated her. Lifting her hand again, she kept it out to him, palm up.

  “You just stay right there. We’ll get out of your way.” She watched as he tilted his huge head to the side and slowly lay down on the damp floor. His eyes held way too much intelligence for her liking, and it unnerved her in a way she had never experienced before.

  The animal scrutinized her like he was starving and she were a five-course meal. Every move she made he watched carefully, not moving from where he lay. Good, the beast could stay where he was as long as he didn’t get it in his head to follow her. Layla was not concerned he had not replied to her. Most of the animals could speak in some form, whether it be in images or broken words. This one was different though. She didn’t know how she knew, but she got the distinct feeling he was deciding not to answer. There was something very wrong about this animal, and it sent a shiver up her spine, increasing her level of awareness in ways that terrified her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Who was she? What was she doing out here? How had she managed to break through the bloodlust like that? Her voice, something about her voice stroked down the rage that bubbled in his blood. It was soothing, calming, and inflaming, all at once. He knew he had been aiming for the child. It was instinct, go for the youngest, easiest to kill, better meat. But her mother had stepped between him and his prey and thrown some kind of energy toward him. He had gone from blind, red wrath to clarity the second it hit.

  His fur and skin tingled from the remains of that power that had arced across his body like lightening. It had shocked into his brain, breaking the repetitive chanting to hunt and kill, interrupting that madness and giving him back his
mind. It was the first time since he had opened his eyes in this form that he could truly think clearly. He knew he had not always been a beast, but he couldn’t remember anything more than that. He felt like he was supposed to be something else, something like her, with two legs and a voice.

  Emotions that were almost foreign to him rushed through his brain—regret, guilt, no small amount of interest in this tall female that had shocked the living hell out of him, quite literally. He could almost taste her power on his tongue. It was sweet and potent. It called to him, summoning the man from within the beast. He felt like he was seeing sunlight for the first time in months, the darkness in his mind pushed back by her very presence.

  He lay there watching as the woman picked up the girl child. He tilted his head to the side, breathing in deeply. The woman smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, sweet and soft. The child’s scent tingled his nose. She smelled like the forest and maple syrup, all young and innocent. Fear hung around her like a cloud, and he had caused it. Guilt burned in his stomach. He had not been thinking; there had been nothing but the painful need to hunt, kill, feed.

  He lowered his head to the floor and watched as the protective mother moved back, keeping her eyes locked on him the whole time. The farther she backed away from him, the less and less he felt in control. He wanted to follow her, chase her, and make sure she didn’t leave him, didn’t let the madness consume him again. He let out a lone whine and she scowled at him.

  “Look, if you are not going to speak to me that’s fine, but we’re leaving. And you can stop that noise, I have no sympathy for you.” Her voice rolled into his brain, clearing the shadows. He inched forward on his belly, desperate to get just a little bit closer.

  “No, you stay there. You have terrified my daughter and given me a near heart attack. We’re going to leave now.” The female backed up one more step and he whined again. Guilt. How long had it been since he could put a name to the emotions that ran rampant in his body? He wanted to show her how sorry he was for scaring her. But she just shook her head and backed away again before making a break for the trees.