Wrath's Patience (Seven Deadly Sins Book 3)

by R. A. Pollard

  “Nice and clean. Let’s go in now.” Tan turned and knelt before her. He gripped her arms gently and gave them a squeeze.

  “Bella, listen to me. I need you to stay in here. Go into the office, lock the door behind you, and do not open it for anyone other than me or your mother. Do you understand me?” He was trying not to scare her, and he was pretty sure he was sucking at it.

  “But, why?” Her little eyes were wide as she looked in the direction of the house.

  “Remember what you said to me? Daddies chase off the monsters? Well, there is someone in the house that is upsetting your mother, and I have to go and chase him off. So can you do as I ask and stay here until one of us comes to get you? Will you do that for me?”

  He must have said something right because she nodded without a second of hesitation and ran toward the office. He heard the lock click into place and saw the light inside turn off. Good girl. He turned and jogged out the back of the barn. Ignoring the wind kicking up the snow, he followed the path he had made earlier.

  He made his way to the backdoor and pulled off his boots, taking the cold steps one at a time, ignoring the chill sinking into his toes. Opening the door silently and with a level of stealth he did not even realize he possessed, he moved through the boot room and twisted the handle to open the door to the main room. The voices inside became clear, and he listened as the male went from simpering apology to desperation in a second.

  He could feel her fear rush through the second this Richard grabbed the door, and then Tan felt it. That thing inside him came alive again, familiar, like an old friend. The same feeling he’d had when Lexi had been raging and beating at him, only this time it was ten times more powerful. He didn’t fear this feeling that spread through him like a drug. He breathed it in—anger, rage it was all coming from this male—he was saturated with it. He relaxed against the wall and looked inside himself to try to find a source of this new feeling.

  It came from this human, from his soul, and he could feel it spread along his nerves. It made every ending tingle with awareness as a word came to his mind. Blight. This man, this Richard, would create a Blight. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew in his bones it was bad. Opening his eyes, he felt stronger, more complete for some reason. He would think about that later. Right now, his female was being terrorized by this human, and that he could not abide.

  Rolling his shoulders, he walked into the room, striding right up to the door that Richard held in as a block to prevent Layla from shutting him out. Tan felt immense pleasure in the sudden look in Richard’s eyes as he saw him. Tan grabbed the door, easily ripping it out of the man’s grip. Stepping up behind Layla, he filled the doorway with his presence.

  “Is there a problem, baby?” He leaned down, planting a soft kiss against Layla’s lips. She visibly relaxed a little, turning so her back was against his chest. She used him to gather her shattered thoughts as he stared down Richard.

  “No, no problem. Richard was just leaving.” Despite her strength, he could tell she was shaken. She was trembling against him, and that made anger trickle through his blood.

  The man she called Richard backed up another step. He was tall for a human, but even so, he had to tilt his head back to meet Tan’s eyes. When he did, he looked like he was about to wet himself. It was as if he knew he was looking at someone dangerous, someone that would sooner kill him than look at him.

  Tan didn’t like him at all—the human made his skin crawl, and riled up the beast so he was scratching at his insides. Against the backdrop of the white snow, he could see wisps of black rolling from this mortal, as if flames of darkness danced over his flesh. He felt it again, that rolling desire to stop this male from becoming a Blight. What did that mean? That word rolled about in his head, pounding along with his heartbeat.

  “Who the fuck is this, Layla? Shacking up with criminals now?” The human male searched in his pocket for his keys, pulling them out and dropping them to the porch in his fear. Tan growled softly, keeping his voice low.

  “Criminal? Oh, you mean me? I’m no criminal, just the guy she is engaged to. Might I suggest you leave?” Tan moved around Layla and out the door, walking toward the human. That caused Richard to stumble and miss his footing on the steps. He fell back, hard, landing on the frozen ground below with a nasty crack of his head to the earth. Tan picked up the fallen keys from the porch and lazily took the steps down toward him, twirling the keys on a finger.

  “You really should be careful, Richard. Awfully slippery out here.” Tan offered the keys to the human. Richard bared his teeth, using his expensive car to get to his feet, one hand going to the bleeding spot on the back of his head.

  “Shut up! This isn’t over, not by a long shot. I have friends, Layla. I hope you have a good lawyer. I’m going to sue for custody. Best say your goodbyes now!” The human had turned a deep red. The anger was clear now, the rage black and thick in the air. Tan could sense it around him, biting at his skin. The veins on the human’s face popped out as he snatched his keys from the demon and got into his car, slamming the door closed behind him.

  Tan watched, his eyes locked on the mortal as he struggled to complete the simple task of getting the keys into the ignition and starting his car. The engine revved and the wheels spun on the ice, screeching loudly in the silence of the forest. The car fishtailed over the frozen gravel driveway before Richard regained control and tore off toward the main road. His tail lights vanished into the darkness, and finally Tan felt the beast settle back down.

  A sob reached him and all his attention shifted. His head snapped to the side in time to catch Layla collapsing in the doorway, her hand to her chest as she began to sob over and over. He wasted no time bounding up the stairs and scooping her into his arms. He had her in the house in seconds, kicking the door closed behind him. She was trembling, shaking in his arms. Her tears soaked into his shirt, burning him as if they were acid. He swore he would find Richard and make him pay for every fallen tear that left her eyes.

  She didn’t utter a word, just clung to him as if he were the only physical thing that existed in her world. His eyes moved to the backdoor. He wanted to get Annabelle, bring her in the house to calm her mother, but he could not leave Layla like this. At that moment one of the large bobcats walked past the fire and he locked his eyes on the fat creature.

  “Hey, cat.” The beast gave him a very unimpressed looked and turned away. “I know you can understand me, so don’t just walk away, you flea bag. Go and get Annabelle. Her mother needs her.”

  The animal made a low snorting grumbling noise and Tan figured he was probably being told where he could stick his request. He doubted it was somewhere pleasant.

  “If you give a shit about this family you will do as you are told. Get the child. I know you can speak with her. I will not leave her mother in this state, and she needs her daughter, now.” Okay, so he might have put just a little too much anger in his voice, but he was pissed—mostly at Richard, and at himself for letting that pathetic human leave without breaking his arm first.

  The bobcat let out a yowl and stretched out his body, clawing at the rug before heading toward the cat flap. Tan assumed this was a good thing. He shook his head and turned his attention back to a virtually comatose Layla, stroking a curl of her blond hair back behind her ear. She blinked and looked up at him.

  “You with me, Layla?” He kept his voice low as he spoke. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she didn’t respond. She just stared at him. “I won’t let him have her, I swear it. Where is Lexi? I thought she came home last night.” He would try anything to make her talk.

  “Gone.” Her voice broke on that one word, her eyes shimmering as tears spilled over into rivers running down her cheeks. Tan frowned. That did not bode well. Had he caused this by staying here? His heart tightened. He did not want to be the reason Lexi had left.

  “Mommy!” The high-pitched voice of her daughter snapped Layla from her daze and she slid from Tan’s lap to her k
nees, scooping up her child as she ran into her arms.

  He watched as she cried, holding Annabelle to her and stroking her hair. It was as if she had not seen her daughter in months and they had just been reunited. Tan knew in his heart he would not allow Richard to break this family up. This kind of love should not be shattered by someone tainted like that man.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lexi stumbled for the fifth time in the last hour, landing hard in a two-foot-thick snowdrift and cracking her knee against a hidden log. Swearing loudly in the gathering darkness, she used a nearby tree to get to her feet. She rubbed the spot, and swore once again when she realized not only was she bleeding, but her jeans were now ripped. Leaning back against the tree, she pulled her pack off and dropped it beside her. She leaned her head against the trunk and closed her eyes, taking her weight from her leg.

  What the fuck had she been thinking? She had never spoken to Layla like that before. They had arguments, it was natural—they were twins. But she had never been cruel, never like that. So what if she was sleeping with that demon? She was an adult, she could sleep with whomever she liked. It had been almost as if someone else had been talking through her. The words had come out of her mouth. She had said them, she remembered, but she could not remember why she had been so angry to have said them in the first place.

  She opened her eyes and looked around at the growing darkness. Once again, she cursed herself for forgetting her damn flashlight. How could she have forgotten such a crucial thing? She had been so angry that she forgot one of the most important pieces of equipment for moving around the forest even during the day. Now it was getting dark, the light was fading fast, and she was no closer to the old hunting cabin she knew to be on the family property.

  Not only had she forgotten the damned flashlight, but she had clearly lost her damn way. Today was not going well at all. Arguing with her sister, losing her mind, now getting lost in a forest she knew like the back of her hand—perfect, just fucking perfect.

  Picking up her pack again, Lexi slung it over her shoulder and moved to take a step. Pain shot up her leg from her knee, and it almost buckled under her weight. Biting down on her bottom lip she swallowed back the hiss of pain and leaned against the tree again.

  Okay, let’s add injured to the list of wonderful additions for today. Lexi literally felt like karma was kicking her ass for what she had said to Layla. Maybe it was. Given she had recently learned the Seven Deadly Sins actually existed in physical form, surely Karma was indeed a bitch, and had chosen her to pick on today.

  Dropping the pack again, Lexi limped over to a fallen log. She pulled out her first aid kit from the top of her pack, and managed to open it without spilling the contents all over the forest floor. Gathering some gauze and a bandage, she cleaned the wound as best she could in the encroaching darkness, and used the only antiseptic cream in the kit to cover the cut. Pressing the gauze to the nasty wound, she groaned against the pain and attempted to wrap the bandage around her leg, jeans and all.

  A cracking branch in the distance made her head snap in that direction, and her heart jumped. Panic gripped her like a stab to the chest, and her eyes searched desperately for the source of the sound. The silence seemed to stretch. One thing she hated about snowy nights was how quiet they seemed to be, as if the snow stole the sound from the very air.

  At times like this she remembered stories her mother used to tell her. On cold nights in wintertime, dark spirits would hunt in the snow, stealing the voices of naughty children that disturbed the silence. They would feed the voices of those children to the spirits of winter, and that was why the snow always seemed to steal the sound from the air.

  She used to think it all to be make-believe, but now with demons and curses, angels and shapeshifters, hell, anything could be true. Just as her heartbeat returned to normal, another cracking branch echoed through the darkness. This time it sounded much closer. Was that just a figment of her imagination?

  “Who’s there?” Her very voice seemed stolen from the air and panic gripped her again. God, what in the hell was wrong with her? She was not some timid female to run when a branch snapped in the night. She was a fighter, and no one was going to chase her from her mountain.

  She grabbed a fallen branch and stood, using the tree trunk to hide, her wound forgotten in the rush of adrenaline now pounding through her system. Holding the cold damp wood in her hands she waited. If someone was out there she was going to make the bastard regret coming up on her in the darkness.

  The tell-tale crunch of footsteps in the snow seemed so loud in the darkness. Lexi tried her best to keep her breathing low, hoping her heartbeat was not as loud as it sounded to her. Tightening her grip on the wood, the damp already seeping into her gloves, she sucked in a deep breath when the footsteps reached the tree. She twisted from behind the trunk, swinging the branch with all her strength, just hoping she hit something and was not letting her mind play tricks on her.

  The branch made contact with something and made a thudding sound like a melon. A very masculine voice swore as the sound of a body crashing to the forest floor filled the night, assuring her she was not losing her mind. The tirade of colorful language that then came from the male’s mouth would have made even a seasoned sailor blush, and Lexi was pretty sure some words were not even in English.

  She was not going to stick around and find out just how many languages he could swear in. She had just whacked him with a tree branch without even buying him a drink first. Grabbing her bag, she bit down hard on her lip to stop from hissing in pain, and limped off into the darkness. She hoped she’d hit him hard enough to knock him out cold for a while, but not enough to leave permanent damage.

  Deus blinked and shook his head. He was pretty sure he had not walked into a low-hanging branch. He should have seen that coming. He had been checking the boundary of the estate, walking the edge to feel the energy of the place and laying his own energy down so he would be able to feel if someone entered his property. It was not like he had expected to find anyone hiding out in the dark. In truth, he felt foolish. He should have been more alert, but this place, this mountain had a calming energy to it, and it made him feel protected. Well that was a crock of shit, wasn’t it?

  He sat up and touched the side of his head, wincing at the shot of pain that speared into his brain. He brought his hand down and looked at the sticky blood that covered his fingers. Okay, he had not walked into a branch; someone had been hiding in the dark and used him for target practice. Groaning, he leaned forward and blinked the flashing spots from his vision before he tried to move again.

  Unfortunately, the action made his head spin and he frowned. Who the hell had been creeping out here in the damned snow with a weapon? And why would they ambush him in the dark? No way had it been one of the Malakhim. Hit and run was not in their repertoire—they were a stabby, stabby, kill kinda group. His mind began to clear and he cracked his neck. Whoever had hit him had some strength in their arm—any stronger and they could have actually knocked him out.

  Slowly getting to his feet he cracked his jaw, ignoring the ringing in his ears. If they believed they could take out a demon with a measly stick, they were in for one hell of a surprise. He sucked in a deep breath. He could smell something iron rich and tingly on his tongue. Blood, female blood.

  Aw hell, had he just been felled by a woman? Now he felt like a pushover. Glad none of his brothers would ever find out some woman had bested him with a stick, he stepped over a fallen log and knelt. A dark splash of red stood out against the white of the snow like a beacon. So, she was injured. Well didn’t that just add insult to injury.

  An unwound bandage lay forgotten on the snow, blood covering one side. It looked like she had been tending her wound when he happened on her. No wonder she had been skittish; he guessed he could not blame her. Still, he would have preferred not to have been used for batting practice.

  Her limping tracks were easy to see in the darkness; it was clear she was tryin
g to get away. He couldn’t let that stand. He was a gentleman after all, and she was a woman out in the forest alone, injured. He had to help, right? The fact he wanted payback for his head being her baseball didn’t matter, not right now anyway. He could deal with that after he tended to her wound.

  Deus followed easily, this time keeping himself hidden with the shadows, making sure she would not hear him and mistake him for a softball again. He caught up to her easily and silently observed her making her desperate attempt to flee. The temperature was dropping dramatically now that night had taken hold. The crisp air felt good on his skin as he listened to the sounds of animals stirring around him. Over it all he could hear her panting—each pant was punctuated with a gasp of pain and a low swear word that brought a small smile to his lips. At least she remained in good spirits, despite the cold.

  It took him all of five minutes of watching her for his pain-addled brain to catch up as to why she looked familiar to him. As she passed into a clearing, the winter moonlight lit up her face and hair. He felt like he’d just gotten a fist to the gut. This woman was the photographer. Lexi.

  He stood dumbfounded, stuck to the spot. The woman whose photos had struck a chord in his soul stood before him like some moon goddess bathed in the iridescent light cast down upon her from heaven. Her hair looked like spun silver in the light, her skin like milk. This delicate-looking creature was the one who had almost taken his head off? He almost doubted himself for a second, but the scent of her blood wiped that doubt away. Yep, she was the one who’d clobbered him.

  For the first time in almost a thousand years he felt his stomach burn and his body tighten. If he had not been so enraptured by the moonlight making her skin glitter, he might have been more shocked by the fact his body awoke to the sight of her.

  He had no idea how long he stood there looking like an idiot staring at her, but the sound of a female throat being cleared brought him back to reality—and to a pair of thunderstorm eyes glaring at him. When had the shadows left him? Had she stolen so much of his attention that he had lost his control and his power had been thrown to the wind? He might have been more worried about that in any other situation, but she started to talk, and nothing else seemed to matter.