She called him Da. This human had raised her? Had he stolen her from a Clan? How would that even be possible?
Evangeline donned a white coat and scarf over her jumper, picked up a furry white hat. I narrowed my eyes.
“Going somewhere,” I asked.
The men that hunted me were still out there. They wouldn’t give up; now they finally had a lock on me they wouldn’t give me the chance to slip away again. No doubt they would be posted all around the borders. It wasn’t safe for her to be wandering around alone.
She sent me a short look. “I need to make sure my Da’s okay.”
Dangerous. Before I knew what I was doing I slammed a hand against the door to close it a second after she opened it, cutting off the arctic wind that started to blow into the room.
“No,” I said and shook my head. What if she shifted and they caught a glimpse thinking it was me? I couldn’t risk it – risk her.
She wrapped her hand around mine then jerked it away from the door and bent it back. I snarled as she pushed me out her way. “Move.” She pushed me again and I let her.
Still panicking, I snagged her wrist and my fingers overlapped I held on so tightly. “Those hunters….” I trailed off.
What could I tell her to make her understand that these men would torture and kill her if they had the chance, that they despised our kind and their leader wanted my head.
“When I get back I have some questions.” She paused and turned those luminous gray eyes up at me. “And you will answer them. Agreed.”
I hesitated but let her go; knowing to hold her would only anger her more. I had no right to touch a female who did not want to be touched. Evangeline could take care of herself it seemed. I chuckled darkly and brought my lips crashing down on hers. “Oh, I hear you, sweetheart. I have questions I expect answered too.”
Her eyes were slitted in either pleasure or rage. When the tip of her tongue flicked out to slide across the seam of my lips I smirked. Pleasure. Jerking back as if surprised she spun on her heel and stomped down the steps into the snow.
I watched her until she disappeared into the trees. She never looked back. Damn, but she was a mean one. My heart tripped at the thought and I grinned. I liked her mean it suited her.
Closing the door I pressed my forehead into it. Turning my thoughts from a sinful woman conjured from my dreams I punched the wall. Cartwright had managed to track me here and I’d thought I had outsmarted him in London. He would never stop hunting me, and why would he? I’d killed his daughter. Old pain flared in my chest and I rubbed circle over my heart to soothe it. It did no good to dwell on the past or what was done. I had to survive so that … so that what? What was I doing, living for? I had no Clan, no home, and no future. All of that had been taken from me once the Council Elder’s had discovered what I had done and kicked me out.
Flashes of the painful beating I’d suffered at the hands of my peers, and the prong of silver tearing through my skin – making my Clan mark void – burned my minds eye until I shook my head violently to dispel the images.
Now I was alone I had a moment to think, plan. It would not be easy but I could leave. I rubbed my thigh as I pondered my options and tried to figure out what the safest and quickest way to be gone from these mountains would be. Was it crazy they already felt like home?
There was a remaining twinge in my thigh, but it had mostly healed. I flexed my leg only to clutch it, and grit my teeth at the intense and immediate dart of pain. Fucking silver. No way was I strong enough to outrun a whole unit of Cartwright’s hunters. Even if I shifted again my Wendigo would be weak until the next full moon, and the full effect of the silver was gone. I would have enough energy to shift and hunt, no more. My other skills were no good to me; it was not wise to call on the weather too often. It did funny things to the environment and not to mention the stress it put on the human form. The world could only take so much interference and the human body could only withstand so much strain. As one who could feel nature I respected it’s power, and the gifts I had been bestowed allowed me to read and command it. Never would I abuse it.
I sighed. The smartest thing to do seemed to be remaining human and hiding here until the next lunar cycle.
I breathed in and smelt lemons and woman. Staying here with Evangeline wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She wanted me and I wanted her. The need I felt only grew the longer I was in her presence. I wanted to fuck her bad, but she was a Wendiga and deserved my subservience. More than this she was a decent young woman and deserved my respect. She was strong to live out here by herself without a real family. That old man may have fooled her into thinking he was blood, but I would set her straight on the matter and be delighted to watch her rip his throat out.
The way she had reacted when he struck her told me all I needed to know. Instantly she had curled in on herself, waiting for the next blows to fall. Rather than fighting back she’d hung her head and waited for the pain. I began to see red again as I remembered the stick flying high, her red blood splattering across the snow, her harsh cry of pain.
My hands became fists and I struggled not to punch the wall again. Evangeline would not be happy if she came back to holes in her pretty little home.
Butting my head against the door, I turned round to rest my back on it, and rubbed my face with my hands. I needed to focus on what I was going to do to get myself out of this fucked up situation. Not about how Evangeline had hair so light it shone brighter than the stars, and that her eyes reminded me of bottomless pools filled with fear and determination. Nor should I linger on thoughts of her pouty mouth, a lush pink, full, and nearly always pressed tight in stress. Her proud chin that so often lifted high when she felt threatened, and her cheeky up turned nose that I wanted to kiss. The way she smelt of lemons and earth. How her body was cool and smooth under my rough hands. They way she reacted when I was near, creaming herself then cursing me for it.
I chuckled then scowled when I realized I leaned against a wall with a hard on tenting this stupid skirt thing. And practically ready to cum just by thinking about a woman who’d just as likely eviscerate me as straddle my cock and fuck me silly.
What did I do? Did I tell her the truth? Why I was running and why I needed her to let me stay? Or did I seduce her and be done with it. Or did I leave? Right now. Just pack some food and hit the road and hope for the best. Should I trust in hope that Cartwright was sloppy enough to leave a hole in his guard of the border for to slip through. Where next? Ireland? I could get lost on the rainy mores of Gorway for a while. Or possibly I should keep heading east and keep going until I was sure I’d lost him for good.
Or you could tell her the truth.
I grimaced at the unbidden thought. Evangeline revered human life – innocent human life. I couldn’t tell her and risk that she would close herself off from me. Frustration was quick to jab at me. Why did I care if she did? Shouldn’t I want her to remain hostile? That would make leaving her here easier in the end. At the thought of leaving my gut clenched. I half snarled in irritation. Which was it? Did I want her or not?
I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I was going around in circles. I needed to figure out what to do. I needed a plan and needed to stop imagining how my woodland goddess would look sprawled beneath me in the snow as I groaned into her mouth, thrust deeper into her pussy, and forced her to scream my name.
Evangeline
I stood in front of his door for nearly half an hour, worrying about what would greet me on the other side. I dragged the ends of my hair over my shoulder and trawled my fingers through it anxiously. I felt hot under all the layers, but it made Da uncomfortable when he saw me half dressed and happy in temperatures others froze and shivered in.
Never did he accept who or what I was, and I was sure the fact his blood was mine made him even more sickened by me. Soon after my mother had died I’d come right out and asked him that if I didn’t look like her would he have ripped out my heart himself? That was the first time he’d hit
me. I’d been shocked, outraged even as I grieved. I’d fought him at first, thinking that he was just mad and needed to hurt the one responsible for what had happened. But when my own grief dulled, and the memory of my mother had become a healthy and occasional ache his abuse had gotten worse – more painful and humiliating. And I’d taken it. Oh, eventually he pushed me too far and I’d moved out, away from him, but I could never go too far. He was still my father, and he cared for me in his own way. He had to care. If he didn’t who would?
Sucking it up, I climbed the steps and rapped cheerily on the door three times like I’d done as a child, hoping the memory of me as a youngster would ease any lingering bad feeling from this morning.
The door shuddered open a crack and half his face greeted me, beady eyes distrustful. His gaze darted past me, over my shoulder.
“I’m alone,” I assured him in a pleasant voice, my face open. “I’ve come to make sure you’re alright, Da.”
Satisfied, he opened the door and straightened a little. His back was still hunched in age and his knees bowed. His mouth flattened as he jerked his head to tell me to come in. As I passed over the threshold I braced myself for the usual wall of heat I knew he created to cause me discomfort. But the cabin was cold, no, near freezing. I breathed out and saw my own breath. Hm. The place was dirty and smelt awful. I’d come by less than a month ago to clean it for him, but yet again the place could give a pigsty a run for its money. And bottles. Always an endless sea of liquor bottles littered the floor and every available surface – some empty some half-full.
My Da limped past me and I got a strong waft of whisky. He snatched a half empty bottle of brandy up and selected a dirty glass from the sink with flourish. He poured himself a double measure and tipped the bottle at me, the amber liquid sloshing about. I yanked it from his lose grasp and tipped it down the drain. I dropped the bottle into the overflowing bin and sighed, rubbed my eyes when I spotted the dried vomit in the sink.
I didn’t want to spend the day cleaning. If I was honest I wanted to go home and curl up on Luke’s lap. My hands dropped and I scowled. Which was crazy. This was my father, he was cold and sick and he needed me to take care of him. Not abandon him to go play around with a man who I’d have to end up burying in the forest somewhere when I was done with him.
I took a deep and steadying breath then asked, “Do you have enough food?”
I opened the cupboard, sneezed when nothing but dust and a single can of dented tomato soup greeted me. I checked the battered fridge and saw the shelves packed with bloody meat. The door swung closed and I just about jerked my head back in time. My Da glared at me.
“I don’t want the meat,” I said stiffly, my face remaining blank even though my stomach rumbled.
He sneered. “I know what you crave.” He slurped from the glass and smacked his lips.
I looked away, disgusted, and noticed the windows were iced over inside. “Is it warm enough for you? The winters have been getting colder.” My eyes came back to him. “You know you don’t take to the cold so well, especially that dodgy knee. How’s that holding up in the damp?”
I reached out to prod said knee and he backed away with surprising agility for an old man with a limp.
He crossed himself and said, “I beg the Lord every day to wash you and make you clean.” He wiped spittle from his mouth, downed the rest of his drink, and slid the empty glass onto the counter. Belching until his cheeks puffed out, he pulled out a packet of chewing tobacco from his threadbare cardigan and shredded a leaf with his craggy thumbnail before tucking it in front of his bottom gum. “You have fornicated with a man. You stink of sex.” As he spoke the smell of tobacco permeated the air and mixed with the rank smell of his breath, as if the place didn’t smell nasty and unwashed enough.
“That is none of your business.” I pushed past him and placed a hand to the radiator. It was stone cold. “Is the generator out?”
He coughed loudly, it was wet with phlegm and I reached deep down for patience. “Put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil.”
I took a deep, measured breath. What I wanted to do was to scream at him to shut the hell up, but that would get me nowhere. “You drive me mad with your stupid proverbs which you don’t even understand.” I flicked the light switch. Nothing. I tried the electric stove. Nothing. Sighing, I stalked past him. “I’ll fix the generator and then I’ll go. Call me next time you need electricity, Da. Don’t be such an ass that you endanger your health.”
He shuffled behind me, his voice hoarse and tremulous. “And the mean man shall be brought down, and the mighty man shall be humbled, and the eyes of the lofty shall be humbled.” He shook his wrinkled fist at me. “You will burn, girl. There will come a time not even my prayers will save you.”
For once when I looked at him I didn’t feel pain or rage. I didn’t feel like a dirty smear or stain upon his life that blotted out the good. He was my father and he had never treated me with respect. “I haven’t been a girl for a long time, Da,” I said tiredly.
“You think because a wanderer spreads your legs that you can talk down to me?”
“Christ,’ I exploded, my eyes going wide. “You can never just listen can you?” Hearing myself getting worked up, knowing that was what he wanted so that he could spew more of his self-righteous drivel, I became more irritated with the trap I continued to run head first into. “Always must you push me and always am I the fool that bickers with you.” I cracked my knuckles and shook my head. Knuckles well and truly loose my hands flew up as I paced the room, nothing else for me to do with them unless I punched something that likely would be his face. “I cannot understand why feel the need to torment me still. Your faith is blind when it should be educated. You say you’re a man of God, but you treat your daughter like shit.” I met his eyes, lifted my chin. “And I may be a monster but I was born this way and that makes me part of His creation. And no, God doesn’t like ugly, but he isn’t stuck on pretty either so I’ve figured out that I have a chance at him hearing me when I pray.” I said the last over my shoulder since I was striding to the small doorway. “Despite what you would have me believe!”
I slammed the door behind me before he had a chance to reply. From outside I heard him cursing my name and calling for me to be struck down, wicked and evil thing that I was. Pressing my fingers into my eye sockets, I commanded myself to calm down, and not to cry. No more would I cry over that man. Surely, someone so mean could not be worth my tears.
A bird swooped down overhead and a shrill cry ripped through the morning. I opened my eyes to see a black winged falcon settle on a low branch a few meters away. It cocked his head at me and squawked. It flapped its wings and icicles fell to the ground from the bottom of the tree bough, glinting in the morning sunlight as they smashed on the floor. A smiled teased the corners of my mouth until I noticed the tag on its foot and the metal clip in its wing. The bird squawked again and took off high into the sky.
I shivered and felt a shadow pass over my heart. I heard something heavy slam into the cabin door behind me and started. Frowning I started off home at a brisk pace, suddenly anxious to be in Luke’s arms.
Chapter 6
Luke
My scalp crawled. Something was wrong and I couldn’t shake it off. Evangeline had been gone nearly two hours and at first it had been fine. I’d spent the time vacillating between what I would tell her, and what nasty things I could do to her when I’d felt a tingle. The feeling of foreboding had grown until it felt like bugs crawled under my skin.
Cartwright wouldn’t try anything without knowing exactly what was going on, would he? He liked to over analyze things until he was sure he had every angle covered before he moved. That was why when you did get caught in his slow ass moving net it was almost impossible to escape. Almost. I’d escaped every time, and it killed me to admit each time was closer and more dangerous to my continued survival than the last.
There was a good chance he didn’t kn
ow there was another Wendigo in the area, but, still this entire situation was risky. If any of the men did encounter Evangeline surely they would think nothing of it especially since she seemed to be able to relate to others well as a normal human. She was a bit snarly and mean, but hell, he was so pretty she more than made up for it. Shit. She was too pretty, no, gorgeous, and would turn heads and set tongues wagging. And all that long silver-white hair was so unique and identifiable….
Or would they just see a beautiful and sensual young woman. Would they leave her be, or follow her home with the hope she’d be free with her body? I gritted my teeth and purged the mental image of anyone but me touching her.
She could take care of herself. That was abundantly clear. The woman had faced down my Wendigo in human form and lived to tell the tale. She’d dragged me out a raging river, miles up a mountainside as she summoned a storm, and hefted me over her shoulder as she climbed one handed up a sheet of rock to keep me safe. I doubted there was anything she couldn’t handle. Damn. I scrubbed a hand over my face and both through my hair. I didn’t want her to handle it. I wanted to protect her, and part of that protection meant nothing physical or emotional should be able to hurt her. Including me. With a sigh my hands dropped. I would confess what had happened a year ago … what I had done to the last women I’d loved. I think I’d always known I would. From the first moment I laid eyes on Evangeline – snarling at me and sending her voice on wind to stake her claim on the territory I’d invaded – I knew I would give her everything and damn the consequences. Quite simply, she’d taken my breath away. Even in beast form she was magnificent, beautiful. As a human she was stunning.
My kilt tented again and I groaned, slapped my thighs in agitation. At least my dick wasn’t strapped down under denim; serious wood in jeans was painful at best.
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