Respiring snorts repeated in the helio and someone moving to get comfortable. Doogan peeked over his shoulder at a spooning couple; obviously Jane had warmed to Gus. And Ennis, spread-eagle hogging all the floor space.
Their round the clock guard-duty had been suspended since the storm, assuming creatures of all size and gender would be laying low. He elbowed the door drawing his long legs to the ground and heard crackling. His boots parked into a thin layer of ice, and a crystalline frost had speckled the turf. A frigid waft pimpled the skin on his arms; he slanted into the cockpit to grab his coat and rifle.
As dawn heightened from cast-iron to pewter the region shimmered like a whimsical fairytale. Cramming hands into his pockets, shoulders caving in on himself, he needed to defrag. He gazed downward barely cognizant of the panorama view. He trudged into a maze of trees his thoughts revolving in countless directions.
Paniess’s raw scream had cut into his veins like acid.
Glamorous Paniess—and she knew it. A spoiled brat that grew into an alluring teenager, and a provocative adult nurtured in luxury where hunger didn’t exist.
Doogan split a weedy stalk and ground it in his fist to piecemeal, then tossed bits into the wind. He wondered if it’d be possible to save her and what about his longtime friend? Rooney. Was he alive—dying—or dead?
The unpredictable weather played havoc when forming well-laid plans, making it virtually impossible to fly the heliocraft. Time was of the essence, Pomfrey gave them less than a week to concoct a strategy and, other than the horses, the helio was their best chance of transportation. Pomfrey is no fool—trouble’s brewing. Angling the rifle over his shoulder, he hooked his other hand around his neck. Staring east, a sneaking radiance inched over peaked mountain tops lancing luminous fingers into the ether.
Muffled noise stirred the valley, ending the sublime silence. Pivoting toward the rustling, he clutched his rifle. Bending his ear to the resonance, whoever or whatever was gaining on him. Opaque fog acted like a tangible screen, and the imminent din of crackling iced-over puddles and frosty weeds grew louder.
Doogan readied his rifle and shutting one eye peered through the scope taking aim. The mirage-like fog, churning and swirling, and then a colossal beast cut through the vapor. The sight bored into his bones, icing his marrow. Steadfast, he waited, fingering the trigger until the beast was in range.
Like walking out of a dream through roiling mist—Keeyla and Fabal—then more people. He rapidly blinked and hedged his weapon downward. He mouthed, “Keeyla.” Drinking in the sight, it took a microsecond for his brainwaves to reach his feet.
The sensation of happiness filled his chest making him lighter; he began to jog. “Keeyla!” She looked startled wondering where or who was calling her name, and then her eyes found him. Her face brightened into a meaningful smile and took off toward him.
Closing space, Doogan engulfed his petite Keeyla into his arms, swinging her around. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then captured her inviting lips, reuniting with his bride.
“You guys look funny each holding guns trying to get smooches in.” Garth clapped Doogan on the shoulder. “C’mon, show us our new village.”
“Hey, Fabal.” Doogan had released Keeyla and fastened his hands under Fabal’s arms twirling him in the air. “Man, you’re getting big. I won’t be able to do this pretty soon.”
“Missed you, Dad.” Fabal hugged him before being set on his feet.
“Follow me.” With one arm over Keeyla’s shoulders and his other over Fabal, Doogan headed toward camp amid pleasant shouts of exaltation.
Enhancing sunbeams were in the process of dissolving the fog as they trooped to a combusting fire. Gus and Ennis, with faces aglow, hailed and waved as they approached. Tibbles arrested near the helio grunting to be de-yoked. Knox whipped a leg over the bear’s shoulders, though prior to sliding off, Doogan gripped the boy and helped him to the ground.
“You’re looking good.” Doogan altered into physician mode. “Feeling alright?” He cupped a palm on top of the boy’s head.
“Yes, sir. Feeling great,” Knox said, and readjusted the sling around his neck.
People collected around the focal point of the fire pit holding out their arms to warm themselves, asking questions and talking to Gus and Ennis. “First we should build a barn,” Gus said, “to house the animals and a house big enough for all of us to sleep in, and then...”
“Whoa, boy,” Clayton said, “you’re making me tired just hearing ‘bout it.”
“We got lots of work ahead of us,” Garth said while inspecting the area. “I give Fulvio credit for discovering this valley. Looks perfect.” Then turning, his eyes touched down on Doogan. “Where is he anyway? Out riding?”
At the mention of riding, Doogan glanced toward the buckboard wagon and a lonely Gingersnap—where’s Zennith? He’d been awake before sunrise; he would’ve heard Fulvio saddling the horse and galloping off. A slam of a metal truck door drew everyone’s eyes to Smelt. His hand extended; palm open was the cellular.
“Fulvio’s gone,” Smelt said. His eyes drooped along with his mouth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A furrow of confusion etched Doogan’s brow. “What’d you mean gone?” He needn’t ask because, in his clanging heart, he knew. Fulvio, a driven, feisty man, had again taken matters beyond and above his call to duty.
“He left his thingy and a note.” Smelt walked over to Doogan and handed him the cellular and a scrap of paper. People quieted as he read his father’s legible printing and grimaced.
“What’s going on?” Fabal ducked under his father’s arms hoping the words bled through the paper so he could read it. “What’s it say?”
Doogan crinkled the paper in his fist and looked to Keeyla, and then into expectant faces. “His said not to follow him.”
“Follow him?” Keeyla’s brow creased, clearly out of the loop. “Where’d he go?”
***
Zennith judiciously scaled the sheer mountainside, picking his way toward a level shelf. Once gaining the plane, he bolted, hooves trenching the dirt, galloping. Fulvio had given his horse the lead and leaned into the wind.
The nippy, high altitude was making the intake of air tight, and the accruing snow cloaked the upper portion of the summit. Every now and then, Fulvio tapped the reins implying a course of direction and Zennith managed the grueling labor.
Interweaving and zagging in the center of a coppice of trees, high jumping boulders and bracken the stallion seemed dauntless. Scrabbling on a slick gradient, Zennith slipped to one knee, jarring Fulvio forward.
“My friend, I think it’s time to rest,” he said, restoring himself. Zennith shook his head, mane flicking. “Five more minutes and then I insist.”
The sizable horse scaled the mountainside, a tad sluggish, making headway. “At this rate we’ll reach the pinnacle soon.” He removed his hat and using his long sleeved shirt dabbed his forehead and eyes. “Zennith, maybe you don’t need a rest, but I do. See that patch of sunshine up ahead? We’ll stop there.”
Trotting past the shade of trees, the alarmed horse bucked his rear legs braying forcefully. Fulvio turned his head in time to see a flying black shape.
“Oomph…” Blindsided, he went reeling off Zennith.
***
Doogan looked down into Keeyla’s inquisitive eyes. “Tallas,” he said. “Fulvio went to Tallas.”
“W-why?” she said with a small pucker to her forehead. “Why would he go back when we’re just starting to settle?” Her heart plunged. There was more to the story; she was certain. “He left. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Without a word? Without telling anybody?”
“We-e-lp.” Smelt stalled by tucking his hand beneath his shirt and scratched while smacking his lips. “Ya know you can’t talk Fulvio out of anything once he sets his mind. I tried. He said Paniess was his problem. It was his mess that needed cleaning up. And nobody, nobody was gonna get kilt ‘cause of him.”<
br />
“What’s this about Paniess?” Keeyla’s gaze slashed from Smelt to Doogan. “You’re not making any sense. Explain—please.”
After a lengthy explanation, Keeyla slapped both hands to her head and walked away. Leaving everyone to argue and yammer in regards to Fulvio’s stupid decision. Doogan sprinted after his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They strolled in brooding silence, past the truck and bypassing the pasture into a grove of trees.
The morning sun had not yet infiltrated the dense grove when Keeyla stopped and turned into Doogan. “You’re going after him, aren’t you?” And laid her head against the hardness of his chest. She heard and felt his hurried heartbeat as his hands pressed her snuggly into him.
Sweltering from head to toe, in a good way, Keeyla raised her head from his chest to gaze at him. The light gray of his eyes smoldered, his yearning clear to see and feel. Her hands breezed under his clothes, and a slight moan passed his lips.
***
Instead of answering her, Doogan kissed the crown of her head and felt the need to touch her inside and out. He buried one hand at the nape of her neck and with the other massaged the length of her torso, slipping beneath her hoodie to fondle the softness of her skin.
He kissed her forehead, her cheek, making his way to the column of her throat. She tasted salty and divine as he sucked on the crook of her shoulder. He unzipped her jeans, gliding his hand past the waistband as she moaned he left the column of her throat to capture her mouth. His tongue parted her lips and greedily consumed all of her.
Doogan pulled back and gathered the hem of her hoodie, ripped it over her head along with her shirt. His heart strummed with an obsessive need as she helped him with his clothes. He knelt, flattening her jeans below her hips to her ankles. As she walked out of the jeans, he imprisoned one of her legs.
Keeyla tangled her fingers into his hair as he kissed and nibbled his way up her thigh. Her knees weakened as he cupped her backside and lowered her to the ground. His heated body covered her cooled skin as he wedged his knees between her thighs.
Their impassioned intensity exploded. She gave to him all she had to offer and then some, matching him with her own desire of urgency.
Their bodies entangled on a bed of moss. Doogan cleaved Keeyla firmly to his side, the trauma and stress somewhat quenched as they talked softly.
“Yes,” Doogan said.
Keeyla reclined her head to gaze into his eyes. “Yes—what?”
“You asked me if I was going after Fulvio.” He brushed away the hair that fell over her face.
“Oh, I got distracted.” Smiling, she kissed his bare chest. He shivered, her touch enkindling pleasure to every nerve ending of his body. “Are you cold?”
“You’re turning me on again.” His fingertips traced her vertebrae.
“I see what you mean,” she said, giving out an invitational smirk. “But we better get back before our son comes looking for us.”
The sun had risen, eating away the copious fog as they walked hand in hand toward the campsite. “I want to go with you,” she stated firmly.
“Not a good idea.” He squeezed her fingers. “It’ll be dangerous. We have to think about Fabal.”
“You think I don’t know that?” With each step, her boots squished into the ground, drenched from the storm. “I’d like to be by your side.”
Doogan yanked her arm and peered into her eyes. “You stubborn woman. Do you realize how much I love you?”
“If it’s anywhere near how much I love you, then, yes.” He pecked her on the temple and then kissed her tenderly on the lips. “What did Fulvio’s note say?” she murmured past his kiss.
“Basically that I’m a bullheaded jackass, and I better not follow him. To wait for his call.”
“You’re not going to wait, are you?”
“Would you?”
“Bullheaded jackass.”
***
Fulvio had the mentality to clamp his arms around his aggressor and somehow managed to spin, thwarting his fall by landing on top of the creature. A protesting Zennith reveled around them, rearing hind legs.
Bounding to his feet, Fulvio came eye to eye with the black ash wolf, hackles quilled and curled muzzle exposing barbed fangs. The wolf prowled ready to attack.
Fulvio’s eyes flashed to Zennith, and his rifle and Glock inserted neatly in the scabbard on the saddle. “Zennith, watch out—” Several wolves lunged toward his steed. He swiftly reached for his knife, but it was too late as the black ash chomped on his arm. “Arrgh! You devil,” he gasped.
The wolf thrashed his head in attempts to gnash deeper into his captive’s arm. Fulvio leaped, garroting his legs around the beast’s neck. The surprised wolf loosened his grip as they bowled over muddy snow, allowing Fulvio a chance to fetch his knife.
Gripping the hilt and executing a sidelong thrust, he jammed the razored edge into the wolf’s neck. He twisted the blade and blood drained onto his fingers. He withdrew the knife and jabbed again and again. “Die you devil. Die!”
The wolf died on top of Fulvio. Extricating himself from the heavy burden, he shambled to his knees. “This is for Horatio.” And plunged the blade into the wolf’s heart. “Dam you to hell!”
Stumbling to his feet, he turned.
The wolves were mauling Zennith on all sides. Like a wrathful bronco, he’d trampled two wolves. Profusely bleeding from his flanks, the fearless stallion bucked and hoofed. Fulvio ran towards the onslaught, brandishing a bloody blade.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Do you think Rooney’s still alive?” Keeyla asked while wandering through the grove.
Doogan rubbed his nubby chin. “Paniess said he was shot. I can only assume when the call was made yesterday he was still alive, or else she would’ve said he was dead.”
“It’s hard to believe that Paniess Addler has been supplying Fulvio with information all these years.” Keeyla stepped over a puddle. “She was always standoffish and arrogant. Who would’ve thought, right?” She browsed her husband’s attractive face knowing full well that Doogan and Paniess shared a torrid history. “Why do you think she’s helping him?”
He shrugged, evidently not willing to share with her at the moment.
“You know I have a zipper on this hoodie.” She hadn’t intended to spoil the past hour by interrogating him about Paniess. The afterglow heated her up a notch; she unzipped her hoodie and spied an impish grin spreading into his cheeks.
“It would’ve taken too long. My way was quicker.” His eyes sparkled in the sunshine, and her body hungered for his touch, again. “We need more alone time.”
As they neared the campsite, he toyed with a strand of her hair and the racket of hammering and sawing spilled over the land. “Looks like we’re starting to build.” Doogan raised the piece of hair to his face and inhaled.
“I miss living in Tallas, together, as a family,” Keeyla said wistfully. “It’s only been three months, but it feels like forever. I miss my friends, and it hurts thinking I might never see them again. Now all I can think about is Rooney. For months, I’d been trying to get Rooney and Gale together.” She glimpsed her husband. “Did you know that?”
“I think he mentioned it once or twice.” He tucked her under his arm for safe keeping. “But Rigg’s isn’t ready to settle down.”
“Yeah, he’s got all the girls drooling after him. And even though everyone knows you’re taken and have a son, that doesn’t stop the female population from hitting on you.” Her arms entwined his waist and squeezed. “When I first came to Tallas, I heard rumors about you and Paniess—”
“The first time I laid eyes on you,” he bust in, smoothing the side of her cheek with his fingertips. “I was hooked. No one. Not even Pratt Biberly was ever going to touch you.” He leaned and pecked her on the lips.
“Rooney is the best doctor in Tallas,” Doogan said. “I don’t know what they’re going to do without him.”
“You sound like he’s already dead.�
�
“Sorry.” He rammed his fingers into his hair, driving it off his forehead. “I have to believe he’s going to make it. There’s Malkus, Rayder, and Babbit, but I fear they’re nowhere near ready for complicated surgery.”
“You’re forgetting about Gee Butterwood. I remember you saying that someday he’d be a great surgeon.”
“Yes, I trust him implicitly. And he risked his life for us when we fled the village. He’ll take care of Riggs.”
“There. Now do you feel better?”
He gave her an unconvincing smile and pressed her firmly to his hips as they walked.
***
Careful not to strike Zennith, Fulvio whipped his blade at the wolf. A howl mingled with the horse’s uproar, and he bolted to extract his Glock from the saddle. Quick to aim, he released his magazine into the pack of ferocious animals, killing two and dispersing the rest.
“Sh-h-h.” Striving to alleviate the frightened animal, Fulvio swept his hands over Zennith’s buttocks. “It’s over, my friend. It’s over. Let me take a look at you. Calm down.” He petted the horse’s neck and tried to steady him with cajoling whispers.
Inspecting the bloody rents on his hindquarters and neck, he cringed. The wounds needed tending, and he thought of his water jug, which was close to dry. He searched for a mound of spotless snow, though, the mucky arena was steeped in mud and blood. He hefted a low-lying pine bough and shoveled thawing snow into his hands.
“This isn’t going to feel good,” he said to his nickering steed. “But it’ll cleanse the wounds and keep down the inflammation.” He worked on cleaning and then packing the gashes with icy snow. “It’s melting faster than I figured. Let’s get away from this mess and make camp for the night.”
Zennith brayed, seemingly not happy with his decision.
“You have to get the weight off your legs. Once I start a fire, I might need to cauterize the larger wounds to stem the blood flow.” Instead of mounting the horse, Fulvio trudged ahead taking inventory of his bruised body with the horse hobbling behind. “We’re getting too old for this,” he said.
Snow on Cinders (The Tallas Series Book 2) Page 15