by H. D. Gordon
“Actually, yes… I want to know why you’ve been skipping school.”
Delia’s shoulders slumped at the same time her lips pursed. “So she told you. I knew she would.”
“If you’re referring to Kyra, of course she told me. It’s her place to tell me.”
“I don’t see how that’s true,” Delia mumbled, “but whatever.”
“You need to show some respect. Kyra is only looking out for you.”
Delia’s eyes flared with more anger than I expected from her, and I sat back in surprise as she leaned forward across the table, baring her teeth as she spoke.
“No, she’s not,” she said. “She’s looking out for you, and if you were here instead of her, then maybe we wouldn’t have to worry about it.”
I felt my temper flare, a Wolfish part of me that I decided to keep in check. I drew a slow breath and kept my words even. “Are you saying you want me to spend more time with you?” I asked. “I know I’ve been busy lately, and I’m sorry for that.”
Delia rolled her eyes, still picking at her muffin. “Whatever,” she mumbled.
Guilt filled me, and I tried to lighten the mood. “Well, I have nothing to do today,” I lied. There was always something to do. “Why don’t we hang out together? We could go into town and catch a show, or take a run through the woods.”
Delia stood from her seat at the table, the chair scraping the floor as she did so, shaking her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I have things to do.”
I scoffed. “What things?”
“Homework and stuff like that. I’m sorry but I don’t have time right now.”
She went to leave the kitchen, and I wasn’t sure whether to be angry, hurt, insulted, or all three.
“Excuse me,” I said, “Just wait a minute.”
Delia sighed dramatically and turned back to me.
“You don’t have to hang out with me today but you do have to tell me why you’ve been skipping school, and where you’ve been going.”
“Just with some friends to hang out,” she said.
“Um, okay. What friends and where?”
“You don’t know them, and just to like the park or one of their houses.”
“And their parents allow this?”
Delia shrugged and turned to leave again. I bit back a growl.
“Wait,” I snapped. “I’m not done.”
“What?”
I blinked, stunned at her flippant behavior, and had to remind myself that it was not acceptable to slap my little sister for her back talking.
“Here’s what,” I said. “You’re going to stop skipping class, and if these ‘friends’ you’re skipping with are going to be bad influences, I’ll forbid you to hang out with them, too.”
“Fine, whatever.”
“What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing. Can I go now?”
“I mean it about the skipping, Delia,” I warned. “If I find out you missed one more class, I’m going to be very unhappy… Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said with annoyed enunciation. “I understand… Are you done?”
I reconsidered the appropriateness of a slap, and before I could change my stance on it, I waved a hand for her to leave the room. After she did, I sat staring at the kitchen door through which she’d exited, wondering what in the hell had possessed my once sweet little sister.
“Oh yeah, boss,” Zara said as she and Nyla came into the kitchen. The female winked at me. “That’ll do the trick.”
Zara was always joking, but I was not in the mood for it at the moment. “I’m gonna whoop that girl if she’s not careful,” I mumbled.
Zara nodded, taking the seat Delia had vacated while Nyla pawed through the contents of the cabinets. “And maybe you should,” Zara said. “Learn her a lesson or two.”
“I disagree,” Nyla replied as she fixed herself some coffee and joined us at the table. “My father used to beat me when I did something wrong, and all I ever learned was that he had a mean backhand, and an even meaner heart.”
Zara and I grew silent at this. We’d all grown very close over the past three years, but Nyla was easily the most emotionally withdrawn, and glimpses into her years as a pup were rare.
“I wish I knew a Dita Silvers back then,” Nyla added quietly, a sad smile coming to her pretty face.
I tilted my head at her.
Her eyes darted down to my hips, where we all knew my irons were concealed. “Because I think you would have… stopped him for me,” she said, and in our heads, she added, “The way you stopped Ezra.”
Zara and Nyla both looked at me, and I gave a slight nod. I appreciated that they did not dare speak of the incident aloud, not even when we were in the privacy of our own home. Ezra Ikers was a ghost from the past that I just assumed stayed there.
“How are things going?” I asked, eager for a change in subject.
“Great,” Zara said. “Things are running smoothly and all the changes you suggested have been put into place.”
Since we’d come to the Warner Plantation, everyone had needed things to do, and we shared the responsibilities of running such a large property. I’d put Zara and Nyla in charge of ensuring our family’s security, and they had taken the job as seriously as I would’ve hoped.
“So there’s two on watch at all times, then?” I asked.
Zara nodded. “Cora and Cecelia have been working together to manage the duties and workers at night, and Nyla and I have been taking the responsibilities during the day. Since the other two are nocturnal, it’s been working out well, just like you said it would.”
“Maybe we should make it four,” I said, more to myself than to them.
“Four what?” Zara asked. “Guards?” She and Nyla exchanged glances.
“Is everything okay, D?” Zara asked. “Is there something we should be worried about?”
I shook my head, offering them both a small smile. “No more than usual,” I replied. “I just want to be cautious. The more money and influence we earn, the more we’ll need to watch our backs.”
They seemed to accept this, and I finished with my coffee and went in search of Demarco. I’d say that my conversation with Delia had been a moderate success, seeing as how I’d managed not to strangle her for her attitude. That left Demarco, and the task of speaking to him as well.
I checked his room, but he wasn’t there. Then I checked the rest of the house, and finally, the garden, where I found Cora, tending to the rose bushes.
“Have you seen Demarco?” I asked.
Cora looked up from the roses, her body as still as a statue in that otherworldly way her kind had. “He left earlier with some other boys,” she said. “Said he’d be home later.”
I heaved a breath and rubbed at the back of my neck. I had to catch the little bastard if I wanted to have a talk with him.
While I waited for Demarco to return home, I shifted into my Wolf form and went for a hunt with the twins. They were getting so big, their paws in Wolf form already enormous even though they were hardly eight years old.
I’d been distracted with business and other things lately, and I was grateful to have the time with them. The sound of their laughter in my head as we rumbled through the trees on our land turned out to be just the medicine I needed.
Just as he’d told Cora, Demarco did indeed return later that evening.
Beaten to a bloody pulp.
Chapter 6
It was just after supper, and I’d gone into the library to read for a bit beside the fire. I’d taught myself to read two years ago now, and was getting better at it the more I practiced.
I was reclining on one of the day beds, my head deep in a novel about star-crossed lovers, when the sound of Delia’s scream jolted me upright.
Tossing the book aside, I rushed out into the hallway to see what was the matter, and my heart dropped as my eyes fell upon my little brother.
His face was so swollen and bloody that it took me a second to recogniz
e him. His clothes were torn and his eyes shut. His breathing was labored, and a bloody handprint marred the front doorframe of the house, as if he’d had to grip it just to stay upright before falling into Delia’s arms when she’d apparently opened the door.
Devon came skidding into the hall as well, along with the twins, Zara, Nyla, Cora, Cece, and Kyra.
The whole family gathered around, staring at the mess that was my younger brother.
My heart was galloping, but I forced my words to come out calm as I took the weight of Demarco from Delia’s shaking arms.
“Go clean up, darling,” I told her. “I got him. He’s fine. Don’t worry. Go wash that off.”
I spoke slowly, clearly, and Delia’s wide eyes were full of tears as she stared back at me, but she nodded and released Demarco. I had to urge her gently again before she headed up the curving staircase, eyes still wide as saucers, toward the washroom to clean off Demarco’s blood.
Next, I turned toward Kyra, whose big violet eyes were less surprised than sympathetic, and before I had to ask, she took Ada and Ana by the hand and led them away.
“What’s wrong with Marco, Auntie Ky?” Ada asked as she followed the Sorceress into the other room.
“Is he okay?” Ana added, staring back at us.
“He’s fine,” Kyra said gently, meeting my eyes one last time before ushering them from the room.
With that done, I looked at Devon. “Help me take him upstairs,” I said. To Nyla, I added, “Would you get some towels and the first aide kit, please?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Cora said from where she and Cecelia stood over by the doorway. I had to swallow twice as I took in the light that had come into the two female Vampires’ eyes as they stared at the motionless body of my brother.
“Will he live?” I whispered.
Neither Cora nor Cecelia moved an inch. “Hard to tell,” the former said.
Devon and I carried Demarco up the stairs and into his bedroom, setting him down on the bed there. I was afraid to look at him too close, because doing so scared the shit out of me. Being that he was Demarco, and always getting into some form of trouble, this was not the first time I’d seen him scratched up, but this was certainly the worst.
The closer I looked, the less certain I was of his recovery.
“What the hell happened?” I asked.
Devon’s eyes were glassy, as if he was fighting back tears, and his handsome face was pallid. I could hear his heart galloping in his chest, racing against the thud of my own.
“It’s Demarco,” he said. “It could be any number of things.”
The others returned with some towels and clean water, and I saw that my hand shook slightly as I gently wiped away some of the blood on my little brother’s face.
In my head, I knocked gently on Demarco’s mental walls, and my heart sank as there was no response.
I glanced up at Devon, and had to fight the stinging in my own eyes, the tightness in my throat.
“Whoever did this,” I said in a voice so flat and cold it would have chilled ice, “I swear to the Gods that I will kill them.” My eyes flared Wolf-Gold as I spoke the words.
Devon’s eyebrows rose, his worried face going somber and cautious as he looked at me. “We don’t even know what happened yet, D,” he said. “There might not be anyone to blame.”
As he said this, we both looked back down at the mangled body of our little brother. Demarco’s jaw was sitting at a funny angle, his eyes turning a deep shade of blue as the lids swelled shut. His clothes were torn, as if by tooth and claw, and there was enough of his own blood covering him that the scent of it hung in the air.
And beneath the scent, utterly undetectable to anyone without a Wolf’s nose, were three other scents. I didn’t know who they belonged to, but I could tell that they were Vampires, and that they were male.
When I met Devon’s eyes again, I knew that he had picked it up, too. My rage was such that I didn’t concern myself with the look of fear that flashed behind Devon’s eyes. Fear of what I might do.
Would do.
I wasn’t aware I was emitting a low, rumbling growl, the sound of the beast within me echoing up my throat, until someone touched my shoulder beside me.
I turned and saw Kyra, but it took a moment to recognize her through the haze of red that was currently ringing my vision.
“I’ll look after him, D,” Kyra said. “I’ll do a few spells to speed the healing. Why don’t you go take a moment to yourself.”
The first words that went through my head were all curses, but then, Cora floated over from where she’d been standing in the doorway, and she placed a hand on me as well. “We’ll take care of him,” she promised.
From the doorway, Zara said, “Perhaps a run, boss. A run might do you some good.”
I leaned back on my heels as I pulled free of Kyra’s and Cora’s touches, my eyes narrowing. They were ganging up on me, handling me. It was not just Devon who was afraid of what I might do; it was all of them.
Some rational part of my mind recognized that they were only trying to protect me, that they loved Demarco as well, and that they just wanted what was best.
The other part of me wanted to tell them all to stick it right up their backsides.
If Kyra had not spoken just then, it was highly likely I would have said something I would later regret.
“Let me heal him, D,” the Sorceress whispered. “And when he wakes, we’ll decide what to do next.”
Rather than let words betray me, I took one last look at Demarco and exited the room, my hands clenched into tight fists in my pockets, right over the duel irons ever hanging at my sides.
I didn’t want to go far, but I also couldn’t stay too close.
I needed to let some of the emotions boiling up in me out in a way that wouldn’t cause bodily harm to anyone, including myself. So I shifted into my Wolf form and raced through the forest on the eastern edge of the plantation, my head tucked low and my ears flat on my head.
Ever since I was a pup, I’d always had a hard time keeping a hold on my temper. It was not that I had a short fuse; I could remain cool and calm the great majority of the time. It was more like my fuse was hard to light, but if one managed to do so, the explosion that would follow would be one for the books.
In other words, on the rare occasions I lost my shit, I really lost my shit.
Obviously, my family knew that. They knew that removing me from the situation at least for a moment was likely a wise decision, and though they may have been right, the handling of me still stung.
I ran and ran, the pale light of the moon providing the only illumination under the canopies of the forest trees, leaking through in shafts of white light that were more than enough for my Wolf eyes to see by.
When I scented a buck in the vicinity, the Wolf in me took over completely, pushing my mortal mind to the background in order to sink into the hunt. I relished the feeling. When my Wolf was in control, the blood seemed to rush faster in my veins, and my already sensitive senses heightened to a level that was intoxicating. Everything was thrown into sharp relief, the world around me taking on stunning detail.
I had no trouble following the trail of the deer, no trouble making sure my paws made no sound as I crept closer and closer.
It’s head snapped up in the moment just before I leapt, some internal survival instinct alerting the buck to my presence.
But it was too late. I was already launching my massive body forward, sailing through the air, deadly maw yawning wide for the kill.
I landed atop its back, my teeth sinking deep into the thick skin of its neck. It jerked, back legs bucking and the antlers atop its head rearing in panic. My teeth only sank deeper, the rich, delicious taste of its blood filling my mouth, coating my tongue.
Struggle was futile, but the buck was a proud beast, and he kept kicking until the last of the light leaked from his eyes. My heart was racing in my chest, my muzzle coated with blood, and my eyes glowin
g Wolf-gold in order to pierce the darkness.
Once the animal lay dead before me, I tipped my head back and howled up at the moon, the Wolf in me crying out its victory. A moment later, from the direction of the house, my howl was joined by that of Nyla, who no doubt was standing near the house at this very moment, listening for me in her concern.
Then, I dropped to my belly and began to tear into the still warm carcass. I ate until I was too full to walk straight, wondering how much time had past, and if it was safe for me to return to the house.
With the boiling energy spent, worry took its place, and I went in search of the stream that ran through the property, intent on washing myself clean before I returned.
My family had seen enough blood for one night.
I, on the other hand, was just getting started.
Chapter 7
Demarco did not awake that night, and the longer he slept, the more concerned we all became.
As a Wolf, his body healed faster than would another creature’s, and Kyra had managed to seal the worst of his wounds with a few spells, but it was anyone’s guess if he would pull through.
Kyra called in a doctor from Faerport, the nearest town over, and he had given us no further information, only reiterated that we would have to wait and see. The bastard gave us some painkillers, took his hefty fee for the visit, and somehow managed to leave the house without me snapping his neck.
“Fucking quack,” I mumbled as I watched the doctor take his black bag and exit the house.
Kyra sighed beside me. “It’s not him we’re upset with, love.”
My temper flared. “No, it’s not, but until Demarco wakes up and tells me who to be upset with, I think the doctor will do just fine, thanks.”
My tone was harsh, my words barbed, and though it was not Kyra I was trying to hurt, I couldn’t help it.
After checking on Demarco a final time, I took Devon’s advice about getting out of the house again, and found myself at a pub in Faerport. He’d suggested that I leave my guns at the house, but a look from me had him holding his hands up, mumbling never mind.