Blood and gunpowder.
Using magic to appear human, Marco gripped the tree beside him for balance. Why was he still alive?
A wind blew past him, ruffling his dark hair and he shivered.
The elders were going to be pissed at him.
Again.
He groaned when he noticed the ruins of another wolf not far from where he stood. The body was stiff and surrounded by insects. Marco felt a wisp of dark energy brush his skin, sending chills racing up his back. Drops of blood dotted the fallen leaves for a few feet before it all stopped in a pool by a large tree. Gunshot holes marked the trunk of a few trees nearby.
Marco listened as the wind blew, telling a tale of whom and what were near him.
So far, nothing. No person, animal or otherwise. Just him and a dead wolf.
Great.
Marco swallowed hard. He didn't want to know who the dead wolf was, but, he already knew.
Józsi's father.
Thank the goddess Boldog Asszony that Józsi had left the pack some time back, so he wouldn't have to witness this.
But what was Józsi's father doing out this far? Only the incredibly brave or stupid would come out this far for food.
Marco knew which one he was at that moment.
Someone was going to have to tell the elders. And someone was going to have to take responsibility. Why did it have to be him? For that matter, why was Józsi's father killed and Marco's own life spared? It scared the shit out of him.
Looks like being the pack omega was truly a bad thing after all. No matter what the goddamned prophecy said.
Unable to remember anything about the previous day, Marco brushed himself off and made his way back to the pack near Szentendre.
* * * *
His body hurt. Again. The beating he'd endured earlier for his mishap was terrible enough but paled in comparison to being chastised by the Elders of the Opeth pack.
"I swear I was just having fun with her, Elder Kiba. I didn't mean her any harm," Marcos said in explanation of his actions.
"You were not asked for excuses for your behavior, Marco, so do not give them." Kiba closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. When Kiba opened his eyes, something dangerous flashed across his eyes and he scratched his head.
Marco's breath caught in his throat. He hated always being in trouble for little shit. Punishment for the death of Józsi's father, he could understand. But the elders chose to do nothing about the incident last week.
Surrounded by several large wolves and humans, Marco stood at the forest's edge. Trees swayed with the gentle breeze that failed to soothe his tension. Marco waited anxiously, his hackles raised. Not a new situation for him. Still, the well of emotions swelling inside his head bothered him. Guilt ate away at his conscience for last week's mishap. Even though no wolf could have predicted the hunters would have had a Turkish guide in their pocket, Marco should have known better than to go somewhere where he could be killed.
As usual at a loss for words over leading Lukina, the pack baby near the area while they played, a burning sensation settled in his stomach. His cheeks burned as Kiba stared at him through narrow eyes.
The Elder, a tall, white haired, wrinkled old man sat atop a stone surrounded by wolves. His piercing steel gray eyes narrowed at Marco. "You have done us great harm, Marco. You have endangered many of our cubs with your recklessness."
Stepping forward, Marco held out his arms in an apologetic fashion. "But Elder, I only meant to—"
"Silence." The white haired man made the gesture of cutting his arm across his body.
Marco flinched, even though there was no way the old man could reach him. He could feel himself blushing like a girl, and barely kept himself from glancing around at the group to see if anyone had noticed. He stood as straight as he could, his hands balled into fists so no one could see him trembling in fear. It was all he could do to cope with his racing heart then he realized the elder had started talking again, and he tried harder to pay attention.
"I'll have to confer with the other elders about your behavior, but right now it doesn't look favorable, Marco."
"I swear I meant no harm in jumping ahead to protect Lukina."
"No one ever does. But she is old enough to care for herself, even if her mate has left the country. Ilona has made sure Lukina would always be taken care of." The elder closed his eyes once more.
Marco slowly exhaled as the elder conferred with the others in low, menacing tones. They could have used telepathy, but they were acting according to their damned rituals, all muttering and mumbling and chanting at once, so that even his sharp ears could not make sense of the noise. He concentrated on his breathing, on holding his hands steady, trying to make out what they were saying. The waiting was killing him.
The chanting stopped.
So did Marco's heart. He knew running ahead of her near the edge of the cliff could have tripped her, could have sent her spiraling to her death. And that would have been bad because she was to play a great part in the prophecy and future growth of the pack.
"Goddamnit!" Marco shouted but quickly slipped a hand over his mouth when one of the elders glared at him.
"You," the elder opened his eyes, pointing at Marco with a long, bony finger, "shall be banished from our pack and sent to live with the humans until you can control yourself and grow up."
Marco rose up on his haunches. "But Elder, aren't you going to—"
"Silence! We have already decided what is best. Do not question us, Marco."
Live amongst the dirty humans?
Bowing his head, Marco closed his eyes. Having his freedom rescinded again would have been easier. At least he'd have been in the forest where he could run freely and not be constrained by man's stupid rules. But … live with the humans? He felt a rush of pain so big it didn't fit inside his chest. He glanced up at the Elder's impassive face, wondering if he'd heard the thoughts inside his mind. They couldn't do that, could they?
He didn't know, but he thought he saw a glimmer of compassion – but no, he must have been mistaken.
Kiba's voice was cool. "You will be allowed back when you have gained self-control. I think finding," he sighed, "another female to be with, would calm you down considerably."
"You want me to find my mate?"
"Yes. We feel it will further our goal toward the prophecy."
The prophecy had something to do with the Opeth pack regaining its former greatness. Much beyond that, the Elders hadn't spoken a word of it though all seemed to know of its importance among all wolves.
"I see," Marco's said in resignation. "But what about the hunters? Aren't they finding more of us and killing us off?"
"Not in America." Kiba coughed. "And it wouldn't matter. Wolves must survive the same way other creatures do. The strongest and smartest will survive. The rest will surely die."
Marco smirked. "That hardly seems fair."
"We are not fair creatures, Marco. We are merely here to find paradise and reclaim it."
An eyebrow rose and Marco leaned forward. "Yes, Elder, but America?"
Kiba shrugged and heaved a sigh. "Yes. America. I have already made arrangements with the former pack witch to take you under her wing. She owes me."
"I didn't know we had a witch."
"We don't!" Kiba's face turned a shade of red. "Your banishment," he cleared his throat, "begins now. Take him away from here." Kiba waved a hand dismissively at Marco.
"But—" his eyes widened and Marco felt two hands gripping his shoulders.
Struggling against his captors, he kicked out at Kiba. "I'm not ready for the real world. I'm not ready for the humans. What about the hunters?" What abou—"
Caught by the power of Kiba's eye, Marco calmed down instantly. His body went numb then all went black.
* * * *
"Hey, mister, get up. Did you come home drunk last night?"
Marco felt something poking him in the shoulder. Opening his eyes, he saw a kid with a large stick
and rose up with a growl. The kid backed off, terror on his face. He dropped his stick, turned, and stumbled into a pile of trashcans in his race to get away even before Marco lunged forward and growled again. The boy scrambled to his feet and ran off.
What the fuck had happened? Where am I? Pain shot through Marco's head and he remembered. Banished from my pack.
They'd left him in an alleyway. The full moon would come in a few days and he'd change against his will. His senses weren't fully developed and… kicking a rock, he sent it flying into a nearby wall where it shattered into tiny pieces.
They expect me to die!
Crumbling mortar and discolored brick walls surrounded him, stretching up several flights. The back stoop of some ratty old shop. Trash cans the human brat had knocked over were not the only trash around. Garbage was everywhere, the stink so strong, his eyes watered, and his lip curled. Discarded boxes, cans, paper, rotting food, stuff so rotted even his senses could not identify what it used to be. He smelled rats.
His own pack had turned against him. Was he truly so destructive he deserved a fate worse than death? It didn't matter. Others were always making decisions for him. The elders were obviously in charge of the pack, but even his sisters had forced him into a routine "for his own good".
"Jackasses. Who needs them?" He kicked a trashcan.
If the humans caught him, he'd be killed. He'd been taught that humans could see through his magic because his wasn't strong enough to shield him from their fear.
So far he'd been lucky. The little boy should have known what he was.
At least he was dressed.
He ran his hands through his thick, matted hair. He picked miscellaneous crap out of it. The wallet in the pocket held a credit card, a single key, a slip of paper with an address on it and twenty bucks.
Gee, thanks. He spat on the ground.
It seemed to be dusk. Or maybe dawn. In this sickly atmosphere he couldn't tell. When he wandered out of the alleyway, the stench followed him. A few cars passed, and some people crossed the street to avoid walking near him. To his left was a park. Large multistory brick buildings stood on both sides of him. Ugly. He longed for the forest so much he could taste it. He inhaled, sniffing through the car exhaust and pollution for the sent of trees and grass and ... he smelled her.
Lightly perfumed floral scents wafting past told him she'd just passed. Marco spun around, spotting a petite redhead across the street. One glance told him everything.
He wanted her. Her.
His groin throbbed at the sight of this woman. Long, flowing red hair swung to her shapely hips. Her chest bounced proudly, as she walked tall even though she'd only come to his shoulders.
He dashed across the street with no thoughts of subtlety. The scent of lilacs and roses grew stronger the closer he came. Marco caught up with her.
She continued walking, oblivious to him.
His gaze focused on the top of her hips, her delicious, round ass swaying with each step.
"Excuse me, Miss, I uhh … can you help me?"
She turned around, her mass of hair swinging. Piercing green eyes sparkled brightly, forcing his blood downward.
"What do you want?" She crossed her arms over her ample chest.
Fumbling with his hands, he looked at her and recognized something instantly within her. He couldn't place his finger on it, but…
Her impatient expression grew. She heaved a sigh. "Speak."
"I'm, I'm … I'm new here and I'm looking for this address."
While she tapped her foot, he fumbled with the wallet in his back pocket like a green cub, finally retrieving the slip of paper with the address on it.
She glanced at it then pointed a long, manicured red nail toward a large red brick four-story building, "There."
Marco couldn't take his eyes off her ruby red lips.
Plump, juicy, kissable lips.
He was lupine, after all.
She sighed. "If you're finished staring at my tits, is there anything else I can provide for you other than a cheap thrill?"
She didn't fear him. Humans usually feared him – especially female humans.
She put her hand on her hip. "Wait here yourself. I've got business to handle."
He scanned her body then glanced in the direction she'd pointed. "That building?"
"What'd I just say? God, wolves are so damn impossible sometimes."
"How did you know?"
"You must be the one I'm supposed to keep watch on. Marcus, or something like that, right?"
Nodding, "Yeah, Marco."
"Great. You're coming home with me."
"I am?"
"Did I stutter? Yes, you are. Your pack warned me you were young. What are you, seventeen?"
"Twenty-one," he stammered.
Feeling like an idiot, he watched her take his hand. "Put this in my hand and I'll walk you back home with momma."
He gave her his hand.
But she took his lips. He had nothing to do with it. Honest.
Her lips sealed over his, her mouth pressing softly into his at first, before gentle pressure built up and his head felt light. Her hand running through his dirty hair stirred up the garbage stench. It also stirred him below the belt, making his pants too tight.
His lips were bruised but he didn't care. She broke from the kiss.
"My sweet goddess," he felt tired now, his legs giving out under him. "Not again. What's your name?"
CHAPTER 3
Marco woke and groaned. He finally opened his eyes and winced at the throbbing in his head. He surveyed his surroundings. To his right was a cherry wood bookcase filled with books on two levels and the top level held a few pieces of clay pottery. Through the window, he could see the purple hue of the sun on the horizon.
Apparently, it was almost dusk. The thin white curtains covering the window let in just enough light to accent the color of finish on the round table.
Marco sniffed the air, and sneezed. That damned floral scent was heavy. His head throbbed from the intensity.
"Bless you," a feminine voice rang out from behind him.
Marco stared at the redhead standing before him. Dressed in a dark blue velvet long sleeved shirt and skintight blue jeans, she walked closer swaying her hips. He lay splayed out on the plush white couch. She stood over him her fiery red hair was pulled back in a ponytail that swished around her hips. His body reacted by tingling; the beast inside him would have howled if it were out.
"How did I get here?"
"You kissed me, and I had my knockout lipstick on. You fainted. You do look yummy for a young pup," she purred.
Marco licked his lips.
"So, what'd you do to get this punishment from the elders?"
Marco sat up. "What's it to you?"
"Easy there, big boy. I'm here to help."
She took a seat beside him, crossing those luscious thighs. He couldn't stay defensive when confronted with her body. Smiling at her bare feet, Marco licked his lips.
"Cute," he pointed at her glittery green toenail polish.
"Thanks. I try."
"So, what am I doing here?"
"I'm helping your pack watch over you for the first month of your banishment."
"How'd I get that lucky?"
"Let's just say they owe me."
Leaning back against the soft cushion, Marco sighed. Running a hand through his hair, he realized it was still dirty. "Could I get—"
"Shower's down the hall and to your left."
"Thanks." Marco didn't acknowledge the feeling of a little probe inside his head, saying instead. "How'd you know?"
"I have my ways. Besides, as cute as you are for a young pup, you smell of trash. Why the hell they had to throw you in that alleyway for me to find is beyond me. What'd you do?"
"Tell me your name first."
"Selene."
Marco sniffed the air, the scent of daisies stood out, among other things. "You want me, don't you?" he asked, easily recognizing the scent of
her arousal.
"Get in the shower, boy." Selene licked her lips.
Turning around, Marco felt a hand shove him down the hallway. "Hey," he protested but was shoved past off-white walls with a few pictures he didn't stop to look at.
Her slender arm pushed beneath his, opening the wooden door in front of him. Light spilled onto a lavish purple rug that sat on gray tile.
"You're very well to do," he muttered before his vest was yanked off his shoulders and tossed aside.
"Look, lady I can undress myself." Marco spun around to face her. Who did she think she was, undressing him as though he were still a pup?
Her mouth plundered his. Her soft lips melted his rough edges and he let it happen. Suddenly he didn't care that he was being ordered around. In fact, he rather liked it because it was her, Selene. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he easily hoisted her onto the black countertop. Marco felt her thighs circling around his waist, pulling him into her. "I'm not gonna pass out again, am I?"
"That depends, if I'm too hot for you or not."
Feeling her breath against his skin when she giggled, he arched his hips toward hers. "Oh, we'll see," he promised.
Grinding his hips harder, he felt her lips vibrate against his ear. She purred, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. Her fingers gripped a patch of hair and forced his head to hers, their lips pressing against each other so hard, she forced a breath from Marco. Her strength surprised him.
"Wolf, take these off." It was a command she growled against his neck as he felt her tug his jeans. His heart began racing when he felt her hand snaking down his stomach.
"You're hard."
"You're quick."
Throwing her head back, she pressed her breasts against his chest. Marco cupped them through the thick material of her top, squeezing. She moaned, when his thumbs circled her nipples into tiny peaks.
A hand ripped open the snap of his jeans, yanking down his zipper. "No boxers? Nice," she purred and licked his lower lip.
He bit at her tongue catching it between his lips – a little game. He made quick work of her shirt then unhooked her bra and helped slide it down her arms while below his cock sprang free. The bulbous head bobbed proudly against her jean-clad thigh.
Wolf Magic: A Fantasy of Werewolves and Witches in the Twilight Page 2