"Naughty kitty. No fighting." I flicked Vanessa on the nose then glared at Mal. "I like quiet harmony better."
Vanessa gave me a quick kiss as an apology. I settled into the safety of being tucked between the two of them. All the tension over the dagger washed away.
"Well, good thing you joined a pack. We're known for our quiet, harmonious lives." Mal chuckled.
I thwapped his arm and laughed. Sometimes it seemed like I'd find any excuse to touch him or Vanessa. It's difficult though, most of the time. Part of me knows that they both thrive on touch, but a larger part of me fears their rejection. Or that I will leave some sort of bad residue on them.
"Dinner's ready, lovebirds," Xany announced in a singsong voice. We rose together to join her and Caden in the kitchen. She had taken to doing a lot of the household stuff like cooking and shopping. It wasn't that it was required of her, but sometimes it seemed like it was her way of taking care of all of us. She kept a particularly close eye on what I ate and always made sure Mal had some sort of very rare meat for every meal. It's pretty common for feral wolves to hunt regularly and live a more carnivorous life.
As soon as Caden sat down, his phone rang. "What's up, Hank?" he asked as he stood back up to excuse himself. "Oh," he said suddenly and turned around. "She's right here," he added and held the phone to me. Confused, I took it.
"Hello?" I asked, overcome with apprehension. I didn't get many calls here and I certainly didn't get calls on Caden's cell phone from the leader of our Sept. A Sept is just a formal name for smaller packs gathered under one very dominant leader, but it still made me nervous that I was being asked for. Immediately, a thousand different scenarios paraded through my head, each scarier than the last.
"Hey there darlin' Shawnee. How ya farin'?" Hank said.
"I'm well, thanks. And you?" I smiled at the warm greeting.
"I'm a'right. Miss Shawnee, I got a favor to ask of ya."
Everyone watched me as I talked to Hank. I tried to keep the nervousness from my voice. "Sure, Hank. What's going on?" His voice sounded concerned and my brow furrowed involuntarily in response.
"Well, our Cote fell off his skateboard yesterday an' hasn't been himself since. Gene is refusin' ter take him to see a doctor unless it's you," he said. I could hear the hidden smile in his voice.
"Bring him over. I'll take a look at him," I offered.
"Thank ya, Miss Shawnee, we'll be over soon," he said and we hung up.
"Everything okay, Nee?" Xany asked as I gave Caden back his phone.
"Hank's son isn't feeling well. Apparently, Gene doesn't want anyone else to see him except me," I explained, nodding a thank you to Caden as he served me a heaping helping of mashed potatoes.
"Imogene is very set in her ways," Caden said, though he didn't look at me when he spoke. I got the feeling he was up to something.
After dinner, Hank and Gene arrived with their son. He appeared lethargic with a big bump on his forehead from his fall. Mal, Vanessa, and Caden sat in the main room while Xany helped me tend to the young boy. We turned the kitchen into an impromptu examining room. Cote sat quietly on the table, with his feet dangling, and allowed me to examine him.
"My name is Shawnee, Cote, remember me?" I asked.
He nodded faintly.
"How old are you?" Distraction is usually the best way to work with injured kids. They are often scared of things like needles and all the other torturous stuff doctors do to them while trying to keep them healthy or alive.
He held up four fingers but frowned at me while I inspected the bump on his head, and his legs swung with restlessness. Before he could flinch or pull away, I shined the flashlight in his eyes and noted the unevenness of his pupils.
"Do you have a headache, Cote?"
He nodded once, then grew still for a moment before pointing to the arm that he had draped across his lap. Gene paced nervously, her thumb braced against her teeth. Hank tried to comfort her with an occasional stroke of her hair as she past. I lifted a brow at the boy, then carefully pulled back his shirt sleeve. Xany gasped and Gene covered her mouth.
"What'n the heck have ya done there, boy!" Hank exclaimed when he saw the badly bruised and swollen wrist.
"Well now, I bet that hurts more than your head, huh?" I said, trying to stay as calm as possible without freaking him out. Cote nodded once and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.
"He didn't have that last night," Gene said tearfully, her hand protectively on Cote's shoulder.
"He's a Breeder, right?" I asked as I held Cote's wrist between my hands to keep it in place. His broken bone protruded against my fingers. I knew he was in a lot of pain.
"Yes, he an' the lit'le one," Hank answered.
"Sometimes injuries in Breeders take awhile to show up. It's a protective thing," I said. "We need to take him to the E.R. His wrist needs to be set in place and put in a cast."
"Nee, that'll scare him," Xany whispered.
Cote began to tear up when he heard us talk about the hospital. Gene kissed her son's cheek while she stroked his ponytail. I watched Cote while biting my lip, then closed my eyes. The kiss from a mother worrying for her child conjured an everlasting lump in my throat. I fought hard to hold back my tears and the twinge of envy that lingered on my palate. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked at the boy. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel any more discomfort.
"Try," Xany urged. "You can do it."
Cote met my gaze. His brown eyes sparkled with an innocence that pleaded for relief. I didn't want to let him down.
"Stay still, Cote, okay? I'm going to try and make you feel better." I took a deep breath. He nodded as I tightened my hands around his wrist.
Emotions, Shawnee, remember. Mal's voice popped into my head, startling me at first. Sometimes I loved his gift for telepathy. He could share the inside of my head and I wasn't alone with the echoes.
Cote tilted his head curiously, Gene looked confused and Hank stood stoically—much like Caden—at my words. I closed my eyes again. I thought about how I'd healed Vanessa, the flaps of her shredded skin weaving under my fingers, and the warmth my mother's hands created when wrapped around my skinned knee. Then I remembered all the injuries I got after she died that remained unhealed, the greenish-yellow of faded bruises that kept me locked in my father's trailer. I focused on Cote's pain and the exhilaration of potentially taking it all away. He wouldn't have any leftover bruises as long as I had a say in it. The last thought was enough to do it. My eyes welled with tears I'd stifled and the familiar lurching burn rose in my chest. It rolled over my shoulders and down to my hands. The distinct glow of indigo burst from my palms, enveloping Cote's wrist. As the heat grew, his wrist healed. His bones realigned and popped under my touch. I opened my eyes just in time to watch the bruises fade. Quickly, I moved my hand to the bump on his head. It, too, shrunk away. The indigo glow vanished with it.
Cote gasped. "Magic!" He pulled his hand from me and shook it around happily.
"All better," I said through a laugh and ran my hand over Cote's little ponytail.
Gene scooped him up and stared at me, her eyes wide; flecks of blue that hinted at her mixed heritage searched my face like she expected me to transform into some sort of shaman. Xany's smile was bright and cheery. She nudged me with her elbow and hotness rushed my cheeks.
"Well I'll be damned," Hank said. He looked from me to Caden, whose grin seemed proud, and nodded.
"Thank you, Shawnee," Gene said, her voice barely a whisper.
"Any time," I said and reached over to mess up Cote's bangs.
"Shawnee's magic, Momma," he said.
"Yes she is." Gene smiled a wistful smile.
I glanced over my shoulder at my mates who looked just as delighted as the others. The attention quickly became too much and I longed to hide between them.
"And now for being a good boy, you get an ice pop," Xany said and bounced over to the freezer to retrieve a grape ice pop for him. Cote accepted it happil
y.
***
Hank and Gene stayed for a little while after Cote's healing then returned home to their other children. Xany brought ice pops to each of us in the main room then took a seat in Caden's lap.
"She did it, TB, I knew she could," Xany said, addressing Caden with her favorite pet name. At first, Caden seemed anything but a big fuzzy teddy bear, but over the past few months, I started to understand Xany's motives for giving him such a nickname. Vanessa pulled me into her lap. She nuzzled my neck and pressed her cold lips to my skin.
"Ice pop lips." I shivered. She snickered mischievously and did it again. Mal seemed to enjoy watching her tease me.
"Tell us how you did it, Shawnee," he encouraged. I glanced at him and took a few licks from my ice pop before handing it to Vanessa to finish.
"I did like you said. I had to be emotionally connected in order to direct it." If anything, healing Cote gave me the confidence boost I needed. I had really started to believe that healing Vanessa was just an accident.
"You even lifted your hand and healed his head, too, like a pro," Xany’s voice ended in an excited chirp.
"Yeah, I just sort of went with it. I still don't feel too confident though. It's easy to relate to an injured kid." I shrugged. Caden lifted a brow at me.
"Stop it," he said.
"Stop what?" I asked, suddenly nervous. Caden had never given me a command like that before. Everyone was now watching him.
"Stop trying to seem unspecial. You have an amazing gift and no amount of surliness is going to change that," he said, then took a bite of his ice pop as if he had said his piece. Xany giggled at him.
"He's right, NeeNee. So stop it." She nodded once and emitted a quiet hmph.
I huffed at them. I didn't want to be special. I wanted to be normal and ordinary like everyone else. I turned to face Vanessa and she gave a lock of my hair a gentle tug. I pouted.
"You always do it to yourself, Shawnee. It's not a bad thing to be special or different," she said, poking at my pout. I swatted her for it.
"At least she's not being rude," Xany muttered. Mal lifted his lip and snarled at her. Xany rolled her eyes.
"Don't be naughty." Vanessa leaned in as if she was going to kiss me but instead she slipped the ice pop between us and licked it slowly from the bottom to the top.
"Vanessa!" I shouted but she did it again, this time flicking her tongue on the tip before sucking a drop of juice that was about to drip onto her hand. She knew that I was still shy about overtly sexual gestures but the way she made me laugh always seemed to overpower my discomfort. The others were amused by Vanessa's phallic entertainment. She licked it again then snickered as she took a bite from the top. One of the guys grunted but I couldn't tell which. I couldn't help but blush and lean my forehead against hers. She kissed me with her icy cold, grape-flavored lips. "You're the naughty one," I whispered, resigned to the fact that I had to get used to her PDAs.
"Only because it makes you smile." She finished the ice pop and began purring. I hugged her tightly, glancing over at Mal who was smiling.
She'll do anything to make you feel better. His voice rang through my mind.
I know. It's only taken me this long to appreciate it.
Chapter Three
Vanessa woke me up the next morning. She was sitting up in bed with her mobile phone pressed to her ear, speaking in a mix of English and rolling, guttural Gaeilge sounds. I caught bits and pieces of what she said. When she noticed that I was awake, she spoke a few more phrases before hanging up.
"Who was that?" My voice raspy with morning, I cleared my throat.
"Me ma—I mean my mom." She dropped the accent midsentence. I laughed and she smiled sheepishly.
"I've never heard you speak Gaelic before." I pushed the blankets aside and sat up cross-legged.
"Yes you have. You have a funny way of ignoring things that make you uncomfortable." She rolled around to lie beside me on her stomach, chin rested on her hand. I smiled and ran my fingers through her hair. In my whole life, I'd never seen hair as perfectly red as Vanessa's. Though, from a painter's perspective, it was more of an orange-red but red nonetheless.
"What's wrong?" She wasn't purring so I knew something must be bothering her. Purring had multiple meanings for werecats but for Vanessa, it generally meant happiness or contentment.
"She wants me to visit. I haven't gone in awhile," she said. Her eyes darted to the window then back to me.
"Why haven't you? I thought you went every day." I leaned back with my elbow on the pillow. The news that she hadn't visited her family was disturbing. Vanessa was pretty connected to her Pride, at least in the general sense.
"I used to visit every day. I haven't since you've been in Utah. I like it here with you." Her ruby lips curved into a telling smile. I knew she meant that she liked how I was with her in Utah. Things were much different than they were just a few months ago.
"Ness, you should still visit as much as you want." My voice caught in my throat at the thought of being separated from her. I quickly added, "I'll go with you." She stared at me for what seemed like ages before speaking again.
"You'll go with me?" Her eyes were wide, as green as ever, yet her pupils flashed scarlet. My stomach lurched when I saw the hint of hidden beast behind her stare. Something I'd said had caught her attention on a deeper level than I'd intended.
"Yeah, of course. It's not like we'd be on an airplane for ten hours. It takes like ten seconds." I shrugged and tried to play it off as if it were no big deal. I didn't want to leave the pack either but I didn't want Vanessa to leave even more.
"You'd really go with me?" Her voice carried on the breath of an exhale.
"Vanessa, of course I would. Why is that so shocking?" I sat up fully again. It was pretty shocking for me to agree to this, but if I kept telling mini-fibs she'd eventually catch on to my worry.
"You never wanted to before. I had to nearly drug you to get you to agree the last time I asked." She drew circles on the linens with her nail, her gaze again dropping away from mine.
I've been caught. "That was a long time ago. Of course I'll go. I'd do anything with you..." Her sharp, feminine jaw line drew me in and I caressed her cheek. She watched me out of the corner of her eye, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. Caught in a warm, soft kiss, I tickled my fingers up and down her spine. She shivered under my touch and repositioned herself on top of me, our kiss unbroken. She pressed me back onto the bed, unfolding my legs when she moved herself between them. I broke the kiss as sudden fear gripped my lungs. A familiar trembling wracked my core. Vanessa lifted up off me, her eyes searching mine. We had been together for about two months and I hadn't let her in completely. I still panicked when she touched me anywhere below the belt. It was worse with Mal. She watched me as I fought the fear that being in this position caused. She'd never moved on top of me like this before and I wasn't used to it. She started to roll away but I wrapped my legs around her waist.
"Don't. Stay, just... Stay..." My words were barely discernible as I fought to utter them between gasps.
I cupped her face in my hands to remind myself that I was with someone who loved me and would never hurt me. Vanessa was frozen in place. I took deep, controlled breaths through the panic and blinked away the haze that threatened to wash over my eyes.
"T-talk to m-me." The sound of my quavering voice unnerved me. Vanessa started as if she never expected me to speak.
"I... Okay." She shook her head. "You're safe, Shawnee. It's just me... Look at me," she said when I gave in to my desire to stare out the window. It always seemed to happen when I was afraid and in some sort of sexual situation. My mind would wander off and I'd think about something else. Anything else. I couldn't do that with Vanessa. It wasn't fair.
Painfully, I drew my gaze back to her and blinked away the fog. Her bright green eyes pierced my cloudy vision. Unexpectedly, my body relaxed as if all of me finally recognized her. I brushed my thumb over her lips. She kissed
my finger and pressed my hand to her cheek.
"I didn't mean to scare you," she whispered.
Moving around under her was different than I anticipated. I wasn't oppressed by her body like I'd been by so many others. She seemed as light as a feather.
"It was only for a second. I'm okay now," I said and laced my fingers behind her neck.
She watched me with caution as if hesitant to let her guard down until she believed I was truly comfortable. I let my gaze wander over her graceful form. Silky lingerie melted over her figure. I hadn't noticed what she was wearing until just then. I bit my lip and used my thumb to nudge the strap off her shoulder. She lifted a brow at me and I smiled, my bravery ending in a heated flush over my cheeks.
"What?" I asked, putting on my best innocent act.
She laughed and leaned down to kiss me again, this time slipping her tongue between my lips. The familiar warmth of arousal returned to my lower belly and navigated downward. It'd taken me ages to figure out what the swirling pressure in my lower half meant. I couldn't remember ever feeling it before; that is, until I started kissing Mal and Vanessa.
She broke our kiss to slink out of her nightgown and toss it on the floor. A quiver ran through me when I had full view of her porcelain skin and supple breasts. Her lips captured mine again, this time tinged with her hunger and need. Movements were deliberate yet careful. I allowed my hands to wander over her torso and eventually got up the nerve to caress her breasts with the back of my hand. Her nipples hardened under my touch and a barely audible moan escaped her lips.
She buried her face against my shoulder and moved her hips against me, bunching up my pants. Breathing in her scent reminded me again that I was with her. My fingernails scratched lightly across her back. Her body arched though her eyes were now glued to mine. To my surprise, her pupils dilated and she gnawed at her bottom lip. With the way she was panting, I could tell she was trying hard to hold back. This time it was I who caught her in a hungry kiss, our tongues tangling in a practiced dance. I slipped a hand down between us, fingers reaching for her heat, but she stopped me. Inflamed fingers gripped my wrist.
Birthrite (Legacy Series Book 2) Page 2