Finding the Texas Wolf
Page 27
The sudden sound of a human voice—crying—alerted Ry. He swung about to spy a woman in a fancy pink gown wandering along the brick wall that fronted a human-owned bakery, yet the faeries, in their altered dimension, used it as a dust den that lured in vampires addicted to their ichor. Hair pulled up and looking like a princess, the woman choked out tears and sobs. He noted the sparkly ears on her head. And the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks.
Why was he seeing her now? When he focused on the FaeryTown layer of this area, he saw only the sidhe and their ilk. Any humans present slipped away into the background. She was so vivid. Almost as if she treaded FaeryTown herself. But she wasn’t faery. Even though her gorgeous breasts sparkled above the pink fabric. That wasn’t faery dust, just glitter that women loved to dust all over themselves. No, she smelled human—coppery and tinged with the earthy presence of skin and bone and yet also a delicious overlayer of perfume and soft woman.
Ry shook his head. He shouted at her. “Hey! Get out of here! You can’t be here right now.”
She dismissed his worry with a swinging gesture of her hand and plopped down to sit on the curb. Her skirts fluffed around her, the hem edged with dirt, and...she was missing a shoe.
She should not be able to see him.
She sniffed loudly, then muttered, “Can you call me a cab? I seem to have gotten lost. My phone is here—” she patted her fluffy skirt “—somewhere...”
“I don’t have time for that.” Two minutes until midnight. Gripping the enchanted sword firmly, Ry swung it behind him, pointing toward the main street that edged the border of FaeryTown. “Get out of this area. It’s not safe. I’ll call you a cab later.”
“He dumped me!” she announced.
Ry winced at the woman’s utter lack of recognition for the imminent danger. There was no way she could be in FaeryTown unless she also had the sight or had somehow gained admittance. Humans couldn’t simply enter FaeryTown unless they could see it. And it appeared that she was merely wandering the streets...
Why was this gorgeous princess wandering about alone?
“Listen, Princess Pussycat,” he hissed. “Bad things are going to happen. Right now. So run!”
As he spoke the final word, the fabric between Faery and the mortal realm glimmered. The gray night sky above a two-story building tore and shimmered along the edges of that tear.
Ry swore. The woman on the curb still sobbed, her head caught against her open palms. He felt a moment of compassion for her. What asshole would be so cruel to such a pretty woman?
But really? Things were about to get rough.
Swinging his sword arm, Ry prepared as the first of the collectors entered this realm. The creature’s body was long and wispy, barely holding the form of a human. It was black, so black it was like peering into a void in the shape of the creature. And yet it sparkled with so much faery dust it was as though that void formed a black hole speckled with stardust.
Not about to become enchanted by the sight, Ry swung toward the approaching collector. It floated nearer, and when it spied him, it stretched its maw wide to reveal a piranha row of vicious teeth.
“What the hell is that?” the woman called.
“I don’t know how you can see this, but you need to listen to me and run!”
“I lost my shoe.”
“Mademoiselle! I’m serious!” He swung the sword but missed the collector.
It soared high, the wispy tail of its form spilling black, oily fog over Ry’s head. He swept the substance aside to keep an eye on the creature. Out the corner of his eye he again saw the fabric between realms glimmer. Always, they arrived in pairs.
“This is crazy,” the woman said. She stood and wobbled. Drunk? Had to be. “I need a cab. I can’t find my pocket. My skirts are tangled... Hey, that thing is swooping toward you!”
Ry averted his attention from the crazy lush sight of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen to the sparkling black void that aimed for his throat. Its curved, sharp talons wrapped about his throat. Gagging, Ry stumbled backward. Slipping his sword arm back and thrusting the tip up, he managed to stab the thing, but not in the substantial main body, instead only in the wispy tail. It released him and, with a twist of its misty shape, soared toward its approaching partner.
“That way!” Ry pointed down the street. “Go!”
“What are those things? And why are you so angry with me? Can a girl get a break?” She now stood in the street not ten feet from him. “I have only ever tried to please people. And what do I get? Dumped at the ball. Todd is such an asshole.”
“Fuck Todd!” Ry said hastily.
“Right?”
One of the collectors took note of the woman. She wouldn’t have time to get to the street and out of FaeryTown.
Ry raced for her, grabbed her by the arm and shoved her between the dust den and another brick wall. She screamed and landed on her hands and knees, which he regretted, but only so long as it took for him to turn and dodge the lunging collector.
Now he was angry. And the twinge of a shift crawled across his scalp. His werewolf did not like these nasty things from Faery. Ry’s upper body, of its own volition, shifted. T-shirt tearing at the seams, his shoulders grew wider and his head assumed wolf shape.
Growling, Ry marched toward the collector and led it back to the center of the street. He swung his sword repeatedly. When it shot upward into the sky, hovering above him, Ry positioned himself below, waiting. In his peripheral vision he could see the other collector approaching the alley where he’d shoved the woman.
The creature above him dropped like a rock. He thrust up the sword, and it pierced the collector’s heart. Ichor spilled over Ry’s fur and wolf-shaped head and down his arms and paws. Without a death scream, the thing dissipated into black faery dust.
But the next sound sent a chill up his spine. The scream was not that of annoyance, drunkenness or a jilted woman. It was of fear—and pain.
The collector slashed a razor talon across the woman’s décolletage. She fainted. And the thing turned to gnash its teeth at Ry as he approached. Sword thrusting as he ran, Ry caught the creature as it lunged toward him. More black dust and the eerie, quiet dissipation of the collector in the air before him.
On the ground was a scatter of pink fabric. A sparkly rhinestone shoe peeked out from the fluff. The woman’s chest bled where the collector had scratched her.
Shaking off his werewolf with a seamless shift back to human shape, Ry bent over her. “Damn it, how did you manage this?” He touched two fingers to the side of her neck. The collectors’ bite was deadly to humans, but he wasn’t sure about their talons. The things were literally bags of floating poison.
He felt a heartbeat, but it pulsed and then slowed. Quickly.
Instinctually, he knew. “She’s going to die.”
And that did not sit well with him. This was his beat. He was responsible for any and all who got in the way of his efforts to keep the collectors off the streets. And she was an innocent. Just like those he was trying to protect.
Lifting her into his arms, Ry rushed down the street, deeper into FaeryTown. He knew no more collectors would arrive tonight. There were never more than two nightly.
“Sorry to make your night worse, Princess,” he said as he turned, heading toward the faery healer he had once or twice used for his own injuries. “We’re going to have to talk about how you were able to breach FaeryTown.”
She moaned in his arms and muttered something about Todd not deserving her.
“Todd’s a jerk,” he said. “Any man should be proud and honored to have your company.”
Unless she was a pill. Hell, even the pretty ones could be tough to deal with. But damn, she smelled great. Sweet and soft, like something he wanted to taste.
Giving his head a shake to chase away that random thought, Ry kicked the door to the faery healer’s home. This was not a situation he wanted to be in right now. Standing on Hestia’s doorstep? She wasn’t going to
be happy.
“To the devil with you!” a voice hollered from behind the door.
To be expected. They had a history.
But the woman in his arms would soon be history if he didn’t hurry. Ry kicked the door again, and the chains on the other side broke, the door slamming inside against the wall. He rushed across the threshold and down the tight, narrow hallway to the healing room where Hestia helped so many of her afflicted species. He laid the woman on the bed of leaves and vines that immediately coiled and twisted to embrace her arms and one exposed shoeless foot.
Ry turned to the fuming faery behind him. Her skin tone was a shade of cotton-candy pink, which she accented with a green slip of a dress. She was tiny, compared to his hulking height, and yet her annoyance hit him like a punch to the gut. If violet eyes could ever burn with the flames of hatred, hers did.
“I know, I don’t deserve your help after the last time,” he began. “Please, Hestia, she’s an innocent. Got caught between me and a collector. See that scratch on her collarbone?”
The healer bent to inspect the woman. She then licked the wound with a snake-long tongue. Shaking her head, she announced, “She will die.”
“No. You can heal her. I know you can. Do this, and I promise I’ll never ask for another healing from you again.”
Hestia looked him up and down. Lately, with his battles against the collectors, he took on a lot of injuries that challenged his innate ability to quickly heal. And she knew it. And the last time they’d spoken? She had nearly died to save him from a fatal wound. And she might have thought he cared for her more than he really had. It had been a fling. Apparently, though, she had thought differently.
“You willing to pay for this?” she asked. “Lots of mortal realm euros?”
Money meant nothing to him. And he had far too much of it. She could ask for untold riches and it would be like handing over a few bills to her.
“One million,” she said.
He nodded eagerly. “I’ll send a courier with the cash as soon as the banks open tomorrow.”
She eyed him cautiously. For as much as she hated him—and had every right to—she had to know he was good on his word. But she tilted her head and asked, “What does this one mean to you?”
“Her? I hadn’t met her until five minutes ago. I don’t want an innocent to die because she got in my way.”
The healer nodded, then pointed over his shoulder. “Very well. Go stand out in the hallway. It will take some time.”
Copyright © 2018 by Michele Hauf
ISBN-13: 9781488094187
Finding the Texas Wolf
Copyright © 2018 by Karen Whiddon
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