Feral Craving

by D. C. Stone

  Walking over to the bed, he grabbed a plain white shirt and pulled it over his head. Unspoken words, barreling thoughts, and emotions unnamed raced through him. With a scowl, Bari turned and sat on the bed, reaching for his socks. He wasn’t in Iraq anymore, and he felt as though he wasn’t anywhere even close to where his true home was as he considered the complete dramatic turn. Not in Iraq, Bari? Perhaps you’d be better off in Kansas. With Toto and the Lion.

  Bari scowled at the voice and lay back on the bed, draping one arm over his eyes. He needed to take a moment to slow shit down. It was all coming too fast.

  Chapter Seven

  Long hours after Tyler left, Bari lay back, his mind still churning over all the information he had been given. It felt as if he were lost in a swirling vortex, spinning out of control. He needed time to think or at least get his mind wrapped around just one piece of the information tossed at him. Scrubbing his face, he shook his head before dropping it forward.

  “Christ. A justice demon?”

  On one hand things made sense, yet on the other, thoughts of the world, of Earth, of being part of a race not entirely human and coming from some higher power, were almost too much for his mind to accept. He stared at nothing, his eyes refusing to focus, and instead thought on his past. It hadn’t been pretty and yet all along, he recognized something was different about him. A lot of that came from his father; how could it not? The thought that he could be anything like him sent fear tickling up his spine. The memory hit harder than usual, wrapping his mind in its horrible clutches.

  It had become a regular occurrence, one he could almost predict. The beatings and screams, the terror and horror all found a way to wind themselves into his life. He sat in his room, his small back to the wall, a young boy no older than four, and clutched his hands to his ears as another scream echoed through the house.

  “No, no, no, no…” The words were a harsh whisper coming under his breath. His head shook, and his small body trembled.

  “Bari!” His mom’s high-pitched scream shook the walls around him, calling out for help. He knew it would never come. “Bari, go get help! HELP!”

  Loud crashes sounded out, and the small boy pushed himself closer to the wall as his mother’s screams tore through the air repeatedly. His little legs curled up close to his chest as he continued to press his hands harder to his ears, anything to escape the sounds. He was too weak, too small, too damn scared to go get any help despite how many times she called out for it. Tears tracked down his face relentlessly as he lost hope for their lives, for the promises made, of things to change, things to get better.

  The wall behind him shook, something large being tossed against it, his mother’s whimpers on the other side. He buried his face against his knees and mourned for the little boy that could have been. He was too frail, too scared to do anything but listen to her pain.

  The door snapped Bari out of the memory. His head lifted as she stepped in. All the air in the tiny room suddenly sucked out. His heartbeat thundered in his chest like an atomic impact, and every muscle in his body tensed up. Mackenzie met his gaze and shifted her feet, hands working at the purse slung over her shoulder. She looked nervous, tentative, like a tiny critter about to bolt at the first sign of a threat.

  More so, she looked so fucking beautiful that a phantom physical pain started in his chest. He resisted the urge to rub at it.

  At five foot five, Mackenzie was a petite thing when compared to him. Her hair was almost the color of midnight, so deep and dark it was nearly blue. Her green gaze landed on him, and the light spilling in from the windows made the auburn highlights of her hair stand out.

  “I heard you were home.”

  He sighed at the sound of her voice. Damn if he hadn't been trying for a few moments of peace from his mind, from his thoughts, from her … but here she was, in his room as if she had answered his unspoken call. He licked his parched lips, his mouth growing dry from her presence, and tried not to breathe. The things her scent did to his body, even after all these years…

  "What's up, Angel? If you've come here to cut on me some more, I'm sorry. I'm fresh out of patience and tired as shit." She grew rigid for a moment, and he cursed silently at his slip of her old nickname. There was no way this could happen. No way could she stay here for one more moment. There just wasn’t a way to take what he had wanted for so damn long, not anymore. He wasn’t a man who could give her what she needed: love, a relationship, someone pure. He wasn’t any of that. She’d been on his mind ever since he’d arrived home, crowding his thoughts so he was unable to sleep … unable to focus.

  Instead of turning and leaving, which he both hoped like hell she would while praying she’d stay longer, she stepped closer, her chin kicking up a notch. He needed her to get the hint though. His eyes cut over to the door, and she followed his gaze. “Come on, Angel. Get the hint. Just go.” The words whispered out beneath his breath, the urge swaying almost like an image through the air.

  Mackenzie ignored it and took another step closer. His brows drew down in a frown, his gaze following her movement, from the fidgeting of her purse strap, to the twirling of a long curl around her finger. Her gaze bounced, jumping from him, down across his body, to the room and surroundings.

  “It’s been too many years, Bari. I wanted to come see how you were doing. As far as who has been cutting on you, well,” she shrugged, “I think Beth was holding back. So count yourself lucky.”

  His entire body reacted as soon as she stepped closer and spoke. Bari drew in a deep breath and then let out an internal curse as her scent hit him. In nine damn years, she refused to leave his mind. She stepped up next to the bed and turned her body toward his. He lifted his gaze, finding her beautiful green eyes. He closed his own, struggling with control, taking a moment to regain his patience. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be around him. He fought the primal urge to force himself on her, all the while screaming silently for her to get far, far away from him and the dark monster that lived inside. He felt it now, watching … waiting.

  "Why, Angel?” He saw her cringe at his blunt words. “Why come down here to dredge up the past?"

  Bari stared up at the ceiling, hearing her shift once again, her scent binding itself to him. Her breath hitched, and Bari closed his eyes. Goddamn it, he didn’t want her here. He’d only hurt her.

  “You know damn well why I would want to do such a thing, Bari. Have you changed so much that you aren’t the same man I once knew? Has hatred filled your veins so much that you can’t say hello to an old … friend?” She spat out the last word.

  He opened his eyes, looked up at her and saw the tears threatening to fall. “Is that what we are, Mac? Friends?”

  She stared down at him, and he swallowed; the action forced down his throat as the sheer volume of the situation hit. Here she was, offering herself and her friendship to him once again, looking for answers. Yet her friendship, while wonderful, wasn’t the thing he wanted. But he wasn’t normal, yet also wasn’t strong enough to say no. He was scared for what he’d do to her, for what he had to offer, and for what he recognized would come.

  His hand lifted, and he brushed a stray tendril of her hair behind her ear. As he drew his fingers through the strands, he took note of how damn soft it was. If she was willing to communicate, willing to open up, then he could do no other than return it. It could go no further though. He had to make sure of it. “There’s not much to be known about me, Angel.” He dropped his hand to his stomach before rolling his body, facing her. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and drew her to the side of his bed, forcing her to sit next to him as he spoke. “You and I know when I left, we were anything but friends.” He searched her eyes, looked for a reaction. His hand itched to reach out, to take her in his arms, just once, and to feel her one more time.

  ****

  Mackenzie brutally shoved down the anger that filled her. It was a viscous, living thing—living in her for far too long. Hurt replaced the emotion. She wanted to toss
herself in his arms and yet at the same time strangle him to death. It had been too many years, too much grief, having too many questions that needed to be answered. Nine years of living with the aftermath of the one night.

  She hated how this looked, hated how that one familiar act of stroking her hair brought back a wave of memories. She had always loved him, considered him her confidant, her best friend. Even when he had left without a word, her affection for him never did. She loathed her reaction to him. Hated how even after all these years, he could still make her crumble. His looks hadn’t changed too much since the last time she had seen him. Still holding an air of menace, he seemed to have grown into the handsome man she knew he’d become. He had a square jaw, and stubble from a day’s growth of hair lined his face. Held within were lips so plump and full, so tempting and beautiful that if they hadn’t been set on such a masculine face, those lips would have been too feminine. Instead, they added to his cruel sensuality.

  Her gaze roamed his face, taking note of the smallest differences, scars here and there, frown lines, small changes in the young man she had fallen in love with so long ago. His eyes still pierced as blue as she remembered, one color she couldn’t forget because they carried the same color as her son. And the black hair, it was all the same. She sighed and heard a rumbling sound, glanced up to his eyes startled, as she realized the sound came from him.

  “Mac … you shouldn’t look at me like that…” She frowned, found herself not thinking on his words but instead falling into the ice gaze she once swooned for. His eyes, the color of a deep ocean, framed with a black outline of a color only found in space, far from any light. Emotional pain tumbled into her body, a past hurt shattering through her erected shields. She heard him curse and then his grip wrapped around her wrist as he drew her into his arms. She went and let out a long-suffering shudder, and felt as if she had just come home.

  “Mackenzie…” The word drew out on a sigh.

  “Bari...”

  His arms simply drew her in closer, their bodies pressed so tight the air itself couldn’t come between them. He felt better than anything, the shelter of his body holding hers. Peace she hadn’t known for so long stole into her. Like homemade apple pie, a soothing comfort and churning lust, all wrapped up into the strong arms of this man.

  “I don’t trust myself not to say something we may both regret, Mac.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear as her head lay on his chest and she nodded, at a loss for speech.

  She hadn’t wanted to touch him, tried to fight off the impulse but in the end, she’d been unable to resist. Thank God he hadn’t hesitated either because she didn’t know what she would have done. Barely understood why she was even here. There had been a time when he could do nothing but touch her. Where had that gone? When did things change so much? Now, his scent wrapped around her, and as she shifted against his body, she felt him react. It was only normal, right? A man being gone for so long, deployed for months at a time as he’d been. Or was it their old memories bringing that back?

  She sighed at the questions and shifted her face, nuzzled against his chest.

  He shifted on the bed, moved his arm beneath the covers to adjust his straining erection, which was pressing into her. Heat stole up into her face as she realized that it probably had nothing to do with her, that it was simply a natural male reaction. She pushed the unsavory thoughts away. The time now wasn’t about that but instead about the comfort two friends were trying to give one another. Two friends that relied on each other for far too much.

  “Things are going to be okay, Mac.”

  She could only hope he spoke the truth.

  Chapter Eight

  After being checked out of the hospital by a very witchy woman, one who glared at him, tried to get more answers, and one who abruptly shut up as soon as Tyler rounded the corner, they headed out the front double glass doors and to the car. Bari glanced over at an unusually quiet Tyler and wondered exactly what was going on between him and Bethany. The two fidgeted more than ants preparing for winter when they’d been together, and the tension in the room was palpable, almost visible in fact.

  Driving along the highway, Tyler was thankfully quiet, giving Bari a chance to look around at where he had grown up. It was weird, almost as if time had somehow frozen in some places and sped up in others. For the most part Nantucket was how he remembered. Long open spaces, little shops and colonial houses. Children played in parks and fields while people walked the street, taking it all in.

  People lived in Nantucket for a few reasons, one being there was hardly any crime. It was a place where the town’s police officers helped the elderly cross the street. Bari scrutinized everyone he saw, trying to decipher if they were human or demon, good or bad. Sight was almost worthless to him, not giving him any answers. He wasn’t picking up anything from the car so he narrowed his eyes, tried to focus in order to try to get something, anything to give him a clue. Heaving a deep sigh he sat back in his seat, resigned that maybe he wouldn’t know, or perhaps, not quite yet.

  “You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”

  Bari had a ton of questions, though he didn’t know if he was ready for the answers he would get. Denial rose up in his veins. He didn’t want to ask because he still didn’t want to believe this was happening.

  “It’s going to come to you, bro. The change will give you that ability and so much more.”

  “Okay, see, there you go talking cryptic again. Why don’t you just spit it out, Tyler? Explain what this change business is about. What these abilities are. You know, give me a fucking clue about what you’re saying.”

  Tyler let out an audible deep breath and shifted his hands on the wheel, turning off the main highway. The neighborhood’s big, spacious yards stood between colonial style residences exhibiting charm. “The change is when your body marks itself as ready. It’s a shifting of your form, one that is agony and ecstasy all at once.” Tyler glanced over to Bari and laughed at the look on his face. “No, dawg, it’s not like a werewolf or some shit, but it’s also something that isn’t easy to explain.” Tyler’s lips thinned as he visibly searched for words before continuing. “There are many rumors about where the Eurydice come from. The eldest of our kind know the truth, and I think in order to keep many in line, they let some of the rumors fly free. But the basic gist is a long time ago, Eurydice were created when the Goddess Themis suffered a crime so great that her pain drew up magic.”

  “What was the crime?”

  Tyler turned on a blinker and made a sharp left on another road. “That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it?” Tyler shrugged. “It’s also where the rumors start. Some say precious family jewels were taken from her home while she slept. Others say local thugs had come into her home and desecrated it. The true story though is anyone’s guess, but the favorite rumor of all is that Themis had been in love with a young male, one who didn’t walk in the same crowds as the gods. Under the watchful eye of her maiden nurse, she spent nights with this male, both craving and taking what she wanted from him. This went on for years before Themis caught the eye of another. It is said jealousy grew so harsh around the three of them that an act so heinous soon perished the walls of Themis’ home.”

  Bari tried to take it all in, his mind spinning under the onslaught. “So you’re telling me demons were created from a god and not just by a god but because of jealousy? Dude, and here I thought I had issues. It really doesn’t make any sense or maybe I’m slow to pick up on it, but aren’t demons more of something you’d find in Hell?”

  Tyler shook his head. “No.” He paused, grunted in exasperation. “I really don’t know how to properly explain it other than this. There are certain gods who create certain portions of life. You’ve got Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty and desire. Not only did she give off waves of what she ruled, but she also created it. Some say she’s the one who helped create the legend of Cupid. Others say it was she herself who ran out and ventured in bringing lost lovers together, pushe
d desire to those who were lonely, gave beauty to what many would consider harsh and ugly.”

  Tyler glanced at him, and Bari raised a brow. “I’m following, but it still doesn’t answer the question.”

  Tyler’s eyes rolled up, and he turned his attention back to the road. “Try and keep up here, Einstein. Athena, the goddess of wisdom, warfare, battle strategy, and reason. Not lost on anyone was her brother, who was the god of war, Ares. It’s said these two were great fighters who strived in the harsh atmosphere of war and pushed portions of the race into becoming warriors. They fought on both sides, trying to keep the war path going along.”

  Bari sighed, tried like hell to keep up. It seemed he was destined to stick along for the ride and wait out Tyler’s little lesson plan.

  “Themis was the goddess of law and order, of justice. She symbolized truth, pursued righteousness in what was wrong, but also demanded that the good of the world not overshadow what was bad. There are two other goddesses who dived into justice as well, but Themis strived on the embodiment of order. You catching on yet?”

  Bari tilted his head to the sides, back and forth. “Kind of, I’m still trying to understand why she’d create demons. Why it seems like she used a moment of hurt to create something deemed evil.”

  “Not all demons are evil. But not all of them get the right kind of story told.”

  “Huh? So you’re saying just because she was a goddess who pushed to do the world good, to keep justice alive, order from chaos, that her beings would be good as well?”

  Tyler nodded. “Exactly. The Justice Demons were created through her remorse and pain, heartbreak, anger. Thousands of years later and here we are. The change, Bari, isn’t something that comes on the same for any two Eurydice but rather something like a fingerprint. No two demons have the same powers either. No two demons are alike. But the job, the job of all Eurydice, is the same. We keep the balance of good and evil in the world, much like Themis’ justice scales.”