Blood Wolf Dawning

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “I won’t do that to her,” he growled, exhaling a sharp stream of smoke. “I can’t.”

  What you can’t do is live without her. And if you think it’s only because of the mating connection, then you’re an even bigger fool than I feared. I guess that vamp blood inside you really has screwed with your head.

  “Piss off,” he grunted, wishing he could get his hands on the beast and wring its bloody neck, not wanting to hear it. Any of it. “And learn how to shut up every once in a while!”

  “What the hell, man?” someone drawled off to his right. “I didn’t even say anything.”

  Twisting to the side, he found Jeremy standing at the bottom of his back porch steps, the guy’s hip propped against the railing and his hands shoved in the front pockets of his board shorts. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he muttered, feeling like an idiot for getting caught arguing with his wolf.

  Jeremy’s hazel eyes glittered with humor. “Good to know. I mean, I get that I can be a pain in the ass. But that was a little harsh.”

  Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he sighed. “What do you want, Burns?”

  “Can’t I just hang out with an old friend?”

  His right eyebrow shot up as he took a deep drag on the cigarette, then slowly exhaled. “Are we still friends?”

  “You really asking me that?” Jeremy demanded, sounding pissed.

  “I haven’t exactly been welcomed back with open arms,” Cian pointed out, his tone dry.

  Some of Jeremy’s irritation softened. “Brody’ll come around. Just give him some time. When you left, we all took it hard. But Brody—man, it really wrecked him. Thank God for Mic or I think he might’ve gotten so lost in his anger he couldn’t find his way back from it.”

  He took another deep drag, needing the burn in his lungs so that he didn’t have to think about what a bastard he was. “So that’s just one more thing I get to feel shitty about, huh?”

  Leaning his head back to stare up at the blanket of stars that were beginning to light the darkening night sky, Jeremy said, “You know, I fought my feelings for Jillian for a decade. An entire goddamn decade.” A harsh laugh tripped over his lips and he lowered his head, locking that sharp gaze back on Cian. “It nearly killed me, and it was all because I was too stubborn for my own good.”

  “But you got her in the end because you deserve her.”

  “And you don’t deserve Sayre?”

  He couldn’t hold back a grim bark of laughter. “I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as she does.”

  Jeremy whistled low under his breath. “That bad?”

  “Yeah,” he muttered, finishing off the cigarette, then stubbing it out in the ashtray he’d left sitting on the porch railing.

  “I don’t recall you ever feeling unworthy before when it came to women. You’ve always been one of the cockiest bastards I’ve ever known.”

  “That was screwing,” he said flatly, avoiding the Runner’s gaze, “and it had its purpose. I didn’t make promises, and I wasn’t expected to.”

  “And Sayre expects promises?”

  “She doesn’t expect anything from me.” He locked his hard gaze back on Jeremy’s steady one. “But she deserves more than what I can offer.”

  “That seems like something she can decide for herself, without you doing it for her.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he made a sharp, bitter sound of frustration deep in his throat. “Isn’t there some kind of unspoken Lycan law that says ‘thou shalt not screw over the woman meant to be yours’? We’re meant to cherish our mates, not use them.”

  “Well, maybe she’s the one who wants to use you. And if that’s the case, then what the hell is holding you back?”

  “Christ, Jeremy.” He scowled as he shook his head. “You really suck at playing the concerned brother-in-law, you know that?”

  A gritty laugh rumbled up from the Runner’s chest, and he lifted his right arm, then rubbed at the back of his neck. “If you don’t think this is awkward for me, think again, Cian. I love that girl like she was my own blood. But this thing between the two of you, it’s screwed up. Normal rules don’t apply.”

  And with those insightful, irritating words, Jeremy headed back over to his own cabin, leaving Cian to his heavy thoughts and dwindling pack of Marlboros.

  Staring up at the same expanse of starry sky that had held Jeremy’s attention moments before, the glittering pinpricks of light reminding him of the beautiful witch passed out in his bed, he wondered if it was possible to live with this much regret and not lose one’s mind. To find a way to make things right and change what seemed an unchangeable course.

  He honestly didn’t know. But as Cian sat down on the top porch step and pulled out another cigarette, he realized that for the first time in what felt like forever, he was ready to try for a little hope.

  Chapter 10

  After another uncomfortable night spent sleeping on the love seat in the bedroom, while Sayre sprawled across the bed, completely passed out, Cian found himself sitting on the edge of the cushions with his elbows braced on his knees, his damn eyes glued to the sight of her. He’d known better than to snuggle up beside her when she’d been so soft and warm and open. Without a doubt, he would have ended up taking things too far, and then he would have regretted the hell out of it. So he’d been a good boy and slept on the love seat.

  And. It. Had. Sucked.

  I blame you, his beast grumbled, its frustration like another living thing in his body, burning beneath his skin.

  “Yeah, I blame me, too,” he muttered quietly, shoving his hands back through his hair as he moved to his feet. He needed to make himself get a move on, or he’d still be sitting there staring at her like a skeevy perv when she finally woke up, and that was the last thing that he needed. The girl already thought he was a faithless ass-hat. No sense in dragging her opinion of him down any lower.

  Then do something nice for her for a change.

  With a low laugh, he headed out of the room and toward the kitchen, surprised that the wolf had actually offered a helpful suggestion.

  I’m not the jackass in this partnership. Jackass.

  Smirking, he opened the refrigerator door, scoping out his options. Twenty minutes later, he was carrying a tray back into the bedroom, complete with toast, bacon, eggs and a glass of orange juice.

  “Holy cow, Cian. Is that for me?” She’d opened her eyes when he’d sat down on the side of the bed with the tray, her eyelids puffy from sleep. “I didn’t even know you could cook.”

  Trying not to blush like an idiot, he set the tray over her lap as she sat up, her back propped up against the gaudy headboard. “Breakfast is about all I can manage. Thought you might need a little pick-me-up this morning.”

  “Thanks.” She picked up a crispy piece of bacon and took a bite, her gaze sliding toward him as she chewed. “I’m almost afraid to ask what happened last night,” she murmured, not quite looking him in the eye. “I know you carried me back from Lev’s, but the details of our conversation are kind of sketchy. Did I make an idiot of myself?”

  “Naw,” he drawled, his lips twitching as he recalled her singing Shakira to him. “You’re actually pretty cute when you’re wasted.”

  “Hmm.” She took another bite of bacon, then grinned. “I’m even cuter when I’m chocolate wasted.”

  “Chocolate wasted?”

  She laughed as she reached for the toast. “Never mind. It’s from a comedy. You wouldn’t get it.”

  His immediate reaction was to stiffen a little, but he tried to play it off like she hadn’t just insulted him. Did she think he was too old to appreciate a funny movie? Jesus, did he seem like that much of an uptight asshole around her? Not that she was wrong, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to see him that way.

  “Hey,” she said
softly, leaning over to the side until she could catch his gaze. “I didn’t mean anything by that, Cian. You just don’t seem like a slapstick kind of guy. Your sense of humor is more...smart-ass.”

  “Thanks,” he said drily, letting the conversation go so that she could finish eating.

  He carried the tray back to the kitchen when she was done, planning on making a few calls into the security posts to check in on things while she took her shower. After seeing how tightly the security was being run around the Alley, he knew his brother was too sharp a hunter to simply charge right in without first evaluating the situation, searching for a weakness in the system. He figured they still had a day or two before Aedan made his next move, in the flesh this time, and he wanted to make sure that the scouts the Runners had posted were ready for him, knowing a single mistake could cost lives.

  To Aedan, killing men and women was as inconsequential as crushing a bug under his boot. Hell, his brother didn’t even discriminate when it came to age, killing children these days as willingly as he did adults. He seemed determined to live up to the monstrous expectations that their world had of the vampire species, and Cian had heard from more than one source that there were numerous bounties out on Aedan’s head.

  He put on a fresh pot of coffee as he made the first call, the Lycan in charge giving him an update on the routes they were currently running. Just as he was getting ready to call the security headquarters up in Shadow Peak, someone knocked on the front door. He found Brody standing out on the porch, massive arms crossed over his chest, his scarred face settled into an expression that fell somewhere between irritated and resigned. The guy definitely didn’t look happy, but Cian figured this was better than the fury that had been blasting his way most of the time since he’d returned.

  “Let Sayre know you’re gonna be gone for a while,” the Runner muttered. “Jillian will keep an eye on her so that she’s not alone.”

  Mimicking his former partner’s pose, he tried to keep his expression as stoic as Brody’s, but it wasn’t easy. He was relieved the guy was actually talking to him, and more than a little nervous about what Brody had in mind for their outing, hoping he wasn’t about to get taken out to the woods and hunted. “Where are we going?”

  “Just get your damn boots on so we can get moving.”

  Sayre was taking the longest shower in history, so he knocked on the bathroom door and shouted that he was heading out, his imagination working overtime at the thought of her tight little body turning rosy and slick beneath the hot spray of water. He’d have given his bloody right arm to open the door and climb in there with her, letting his tongue get up close and personal with every silky inch of flesh, licking away each meandering drop of water...working his way closer to that most private, intimate part of her that he wanted to lick and suck and fuck so hard it was killing him. Wanted to take her until she couldn’t do anything but beg and claw and chant his name.

  “What the hell, Hennessey? Do I need to drag your ass out of there?” Brody shouted impatiently from the porch, and he cursed under his breath, yelling through the door again to remind Sayre to be careful and stay near the cabins.

  He met Brody outside, and they walked in weighted silence over to where a shiny new Chevy truck had been parked around the side of the Runner’s cabin. As he climbed up into Brody’s new ride, the two car seats in the back making him smile, Cian found himself thinking about the first time he’d met Mason’s wife, Torrance. They’d all been gathered in Mase’s kitchen, and he’d been ribbing Brody about being broody, like he always did, while flirting outrageously with Torry just to get a rise out of Mason. Even with all the chaos surrounding them at that time, with the hunt for a serial killer going on and all the crap that Eric, Eli and Elise’s father had been involved in, life had been so much simpler then. It might have sounded corny, but it was true.

  God, in so many ways, those days seemed like a million lifetimes ago. And now look at him. Sitting beside his former partner while they headed up the road that led to Shadow Peak, without a damn clue what to say. Back then, he’d have started singing Julio Iglesias or some shit like that just to mess with the guy, but now he was afraid to even speak.

  Ah, to hell with it, he thought. He was just going to say something and if Brody didn’t like it, he could kick him out or turn around and take him back to the Alley.

  Clearing his throat, he looked over at the guy and said, “So what’s going on? Is this the part where you take me out to the woods and break my neck for being such a jackass?”

  “Tempting, but no. We’re going up to my grandmother’s place.” Brody slid him a narrow look, then turned his attention back to the road before muttering, “Mic wants Cianna to meet you.”

  Oh...Christ. This was big. He knew, from talking to Kyle yesterday, that Cianna was Brody and Mic’s three-year-old daughter.

  Propping his elbow on the door, he rubbed his fingers along his unshaven jaw, and was unable to keep the grin off his face. “So Cianna, huh? Cute name.”

  Brody snorted loudly. “Mic’s the one who insisted on it.”

  He swallowed against the lump in his throat, then shook his head, wondering when he’d become such an emotional pussy. “I know you don’t care, but it...it means a lot to me, man.”

  Brody didn’t bother to respond until they’d pulled into his grandmother’s driveway and he’d cut the engine. Turning his head, he pinned Cian with a hard, don’t-screw-with-me look of warning. “You make her love you and then leave again without a single damn goodbye, then I’m gonna kill you. Understood?”

  “Yeah, got it,” he rasped, wiping his damp palms on his jeans. He’d never spent much time around kids—hell, he’d never really spent any time around them—so he wasn’t sure what to expect, and that made him...nervous. What if she took one look at him and ran screaming? What the hell did he do then?

  They climbed out of the truck and were heading up the front walkway, when the front door burst open and a little ball of pink came flying out, crashing right into his legs. Cian reached down, careful to keep his hold gentle as he gripped the little girl’s shoulders to stop her from falling over.

  “Up!” she shouted, her little voice imperious as she craned her head back and lifted her arms.

  Unsure what he should do, he glanced at Brody, who jerked his chin at him in a get-on-with-it gesture.

  It’s just a kid, his wolf snickered. Hold her by the scruff of her neck and feed her when she bellows. How friggin’ hard can it be?

  Choking back a laugh, he said, “Right then,” and reached down and lifted her tiny body into his arms—holding her under her arms, instead of by the neck. She seemed to know exactly what to do, as she perched her little bottom on his right forearm and braced her hands against his chest. She was a beautiful child, with long black curls like her mother’s and Brody’s bottle-green eyes, the scent of fresh-baked sugar cookies and cinnamon clinging to her in a way that reminded him of Christmas. She blinked a few times, and stared at him so intently he felt like she was trying to read his mind. Then she leaned in a little closer, grabbed his cheeks with her chubby little hands and quickly kissed him right in the middle of his forehead. “That’s how Mommy does it!” she said with a giggle, then pulled back and gave him an adorably dimpled smile.

  “Thank you.” He had to give a little cough to clear his throat before he could go on. “That was the sweetest kiss I’ve had in forever.”

  She giggled again and started rubbing her hands over the stubble on his cheeks. “Your face is all scratchy like Daddy’s.”

  “It sure is.”

  “You’s ticklish?” she asked, that dimpled grin of hers infectious.

  “Nope,” he said, smiling back at her. “But I bet you are.”

  She wiggled to get down, and he and Brody spent the next thirty minutes playing chase with her in the front garden, while Abigail, Brody’s gra
ndmother, looked on with a smile from the porch. When Brody looked at his watch and told the little munchkin they were going to have to go so he could get back to work, she threw herself around Cian’s right leg, squeezing him with surprising strength while looking up at him and shouting, “Kisses! I wants more kisses!”

  “Come on, you little flirt,” Brody rumbled, a smirk on his face as he came over, pulled her off and lifted her up into his arms. With his face close to his daughter’s pouty one, Brody said, “What did Daddy tell you about mauling people for kisses?”

  “But I likes him!” she wailed, blinking like she was on the verge of tears. “I wants to keep him!”

  Muffling a laugh under his breath, Brody gentled his voice. “Cianna, baby, he’s not a toy for you to keep. Now stop it with the crocodile tears and give your old man some goodbye squishes.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, as she threw her arms around Brody’s neck and hugged him tight.

  “You gonna be a good girl and help take care of Nana?” he asked, nuzzling her curls.

  She nodded as she lifted her head, but her lower lip started to tremble. “Whens you come back?”

  “I’ll come see you tomorrow, baby girl. And Mommy’s going to be here to stay with you when she gets back from taking Jack over to visit with her friend Rachel. Okay?”

  She nodded, and Brody lowered her back to the ground. As soon as her little feet touched the grass, she ran over to Cian and hugged his leg again. He figured he knew exactly what the Grinch felt like at the end of that holiday movie, because his damn chest was feeling all mushy and big.

  As soon as he and Brody were back in the truck and reversing out of the drive, he waved to Cianna one more time, and said, “She’s adorable, man.” His chest shook with a low laugh as he turned his head and looked at Brody. “You know you’re gonna have your hands full when she’s older, right? Boys’ll be lining up from Shadow Peak all the way down to the Alley, wanting to ask her out.”