Vengeance Borne

by amanda bonilla

“Just to talk.”

  “No way,” Jacquelyn said. “Dryads don’t just talk. They always want something. She didn’t try to get you naked? Make you her slave? Or maybe she asked for clemency for a while. You didn’t fall for it, did you?”

  Micah stared down the hill, watching as the glowing orb of light flitted through the trees, back into the forest from where she’d come. McCall was going to have a new supernatural resident, for a few months at least. But she’d stick to the trees. Anyway, he hoped she would. Did Dryad’s mingle with regular people, he wondered. “I didn’t fall for anything,” Micah said. “She wanted to talk, and I indulged her. Maybe she really just likes me.”

  “Fat chance,” Jacquelyn scoffed.

  “Are you saying I’m not attractive or interesting?” He turned to face her and she smiled, her eyes glistening emerald pools under a night sky.

  “I’d say you’re cute enough to spark a Dryad’s interest,” she said. “Is she leaving?”

  “Soon,” Micah looked out his window at the moonlit clearing. “So, do you think things will slow down for a while now that the Hunter’s Moon is passed?”

  Jacquelyn looked through the windshield, up at the sky and the moon that had reached its zenith and would soon be on the wane. “I think so. For a while. It’s a good thing, too. We need to get you into a real house and find you a job. What do you do, anyway? I never even asked.”

  “Actually,” Micah laughed, “I’m a veterinarian.”

  “Doctor Micah Marinescu,” Jacquelyn said with a chuckle. “I like it. There’s only one vet in town, you know. We could probably use another.”

  “Some time to settle in would be great,” Micah said.

  “I think we’ll get a little rest.” Jacquelyn put the car into gear and pulled out onto the highway. “But if you thought the last week was crazy, just wait until Winter Solstice hits.”

  Micah traced the features of Jacquelyn’s face with his eyes, memorizing every detail the way he had so often lately. She’d never really know what she meant to him. What he was willing to do for her, the bright flame burning in his soul. Winter Solstice, he thought. About three months away. Until then, there’d be peace.

  Sneak Peek of Book 2 in Sentry of Evil

  Chapter One

  “I’M GOING WITH you tonight, and don’t try to talk me out of it.”

  Jacquelyn topped off Micah’s latte with a dollop of foam and popped a lid on the paper cup before sliding it across the counter toward him. It was obvious since he wasn’t responding right away that he was, in fact, going to try and talk her out of it. Big surprise.

  He brought the cup to his lips and took a slow sip before replying, “Nope. Sorry, you’re not invited.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do, you know.”

  “I think I just did.”

  “I’m the Waerd, you’re the Bearer. That means you do what I say.”

  Micah cocked a dubious brow and leaned in across the counter. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t officially anyone’s anything. Finn is still your Bearer. I’m just a rogue hanging out in your territory.”

  Every full moon for the past three months they’d had the same argument. And it was just as annoying in December as it had been in October. Micah gave Jacquelyn a self-congratulating smile and left the counter to settle down in one of the back corner booths at Grind, the coffee shop purgatory she was forced to spend her days. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly forced, but she needed the paycheck if she wanted to keep eating, putting gas in her car, enjoying the benefits of heat through the winter… all of the important stuff. For the past few months, she’d been the acting manager since her predecessor, Bree, had been killed in an animal attack. If by animal one meant, bloodthirsty Furies hell-bent on revenge. It was a good thing supernatural activity in the area had slowed to almost nothing. Because until Grind’s owner decided to hire a new manager, Jacquelyn’s plate was pretty full. What with demon hunting and all.

  “I’m totally not going to feel sorry for you if she sucks your soul out through your nose,” Jacquelyn said as she passed by Micah’s table to collect dirty dishes and wipe down the next booth.

  Micah flashed her an amused smile and shook his head. “You worry too much. If she hasn’t done anything to harm me in the past two months, I’m pretty sure tonight won’t be any different.”

  She being the pain in the ass Dryad who’d taken up residence in the woods just west of town. Jacquelyn was pretty sure she was a dirty slut, too. Most tree nymphs were. But that’s not why she didn’t like Micah going out to the woods to meet with her alone. Her interest was strictly work related.

  Totally, utterly professional.

  Micah laughed to himself and took a sip of his latte while he thumbed through the weekly paper. Jacquelyn pulled up her emotional wall good and tight. She doubted he was snickering at the classified ads. More likely, he’d been poking around in her head where he didn’t belong. Stupid Bearers and their emotional mumbo-jumbo.

  “She might not take your soul,” Jacquelyn remarked on her way back to the table. Thankfully, the coffee shop was empty after the morning rush so no one would overhear their conversation. “All she has to do is tell you her name, and trick you into saying it out loud. Once you do, you’re as good as her slave.” Her sex slave.

  Micah chuckled and continued to thumb through the paper. The problem with empaths was the fact that it was tough to hide your emotions from them. And since Micah topped the charts with his abilities, even with a shield up, he could probably sense what she was feeling right now.

  Which was totally not jealousy.

  It wasn’t like Micah was her boyfriend or anything. And yeah, so they’d kissed a few months back. Once. One amazing, urgent, passionate kiss that left her breathless and wanting… Micah looked up from the paper, head canted to the side and a curious smile curving his full lips. Stupid empaths. Jacquelyn tightened her emotional shield and headed back behind the counter. Neither of them had broached the subject of that kiss since the night it happened.

  “What do you guys do out there anyway?” If their first encounter with the Dryad was any indicator, it more than likely had something to do with strip poker. That slutty forest nymph looked at him like he was steak and she was a starving tigress. “And how do you get out there? There’s three feet of snow on the ground.”

  “I snowshoe,” Micah responded without making eye contact. “It’s great exercise. And she won’t steal my soul because she can’t. Dryads don’t have that ability.”

  The Sentry raised Jacquelyn from infancy and educated her thoroughly on the ins and outs of the supernatural world. There wasn’t anything she didn’t know, so it really rubbed her the wrong way to have a newb like Micah—his abilities had only been realized a short time ago—taking her to school. “Did she tell you that?”

  Micah gave her a look. “She did.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that she might be lying?”

  He laughed. “Nope.”

  Micah’s doe-eyed innocence and readiness to trust was something that Jacquelyn found both infuriating and admirable. She had a tendency to be just a little on the emotionally detached, cynical side, while Micah was open, hopeful, and optimistic. Especially lately, when it came to Dryads. That dirty hooker.

  “Tonight’s our last date,” Micah said as he gathered up his paper and slid a long, muscular arm into his wool pea coat. Not that Jacquelyn noticed his muscles or anything. “So you don’t have to worry about it anymore. She’ll be gone and you can continue to hate her from afar.”

  Afar. Jacquelyn gave a derisive snort. She’d be more than happy to hate her up close if Micah would just give her the chance. “Call me a pessimist, but I doubt she’s just going to simply pack up and leave without trying to strike another bargain with you.”

  Dryads were infamous for two things: insatiable sexual appetites and their ability to strike bargains with a verbal volley that would make a used car salesman proud.

  Micah gave a non-committal
shrug in response and suspicion crept over Jacquelyn like sneaking vines coiling over her skin. “You haven’t made another deal with her, have you?”

  “Of course not.” The fact that he wasn’t making eye contact did nothing to instill confidence in his response. “But you’re being all judgey about who she is when you don’t even know her.”

  “What,” Jacquelyn stressed. “What she is. She isn’t human, Micah. Don’t lose sight of that.”

  “I know what she is.” His rich brown eyes, the color of worn, oiled leather, met hers and Jacquelyn momentarily lost herself in the endless depths. “But she’s not a soulless creature, either.” He headed for the door, paper tucked under his arm and latte clutched in his left hand. “I know it’s not easy for you, but you have to relax and try to let go a little. You don’t have to trust her, but you need to trust me. I’m heading over to the clinic. I’ll check in with you when I get home tonight.”

  The bell above the door chimed and a gust of chilly winter wind swept through the coffee shop with Micah’s departure. His first deal with the Dryad had led to the monthly “dates” over the past few months. Micah might be seeing the situation through rose-colored glasses, but Jacquelyn had been through her paces. She knew what Dryads were capable of and this one was no different. Her eyes shone with hunger when she looked at Micah and, innocent or not, their monthly meet up was nothing more than ground work for something bigger. The Dryad wanted Micah and Jacquelyn knew that she’d do anything in her power to get him.

  No way was she going to let that happen.

  Jacquelyn did trust Micah. As of yet he hadn’t shown any signs of losing his soul, but it didn’t mean that sneaky Dryad wasn’t up to something. He didn’t think he needed her to protect him. Fine. He thought the Dryad was harmless. Fine. He wanted her to give him space and let him go out there alone for the third time in three months at the risk that he’d be lured into making yet another bargain. So, sooooo not fine.

  At the age of ten, Jacquelyn was deemed lethal with both a blade and a handgun. By fifteen she could sneak up on a Rakshasa demon and drive a dagger into its heart before it even realized the threat. Following a snowshoeing Bearer into the woods to spy on his supernatural date shouldn’t be too much of a challenge. She just hoped that whatever she found out there wouldn’t bring with it an end to the lull in supernatural activity she’d enjoyed lately.

  Jacquelyn learned a long time ago to hope for the best, but plan for the worst. One thing hunter’s couldn’t afford was optimism.

  Micah walked through the doors of the soon-to-be Payette Veterinary Clinic balancing his paper coffee cup on top of a stack of cardboard boxes. He named the clinic after Payette Lake, the miles long glacial lake that kissed the shores of downtown McCall and beyond. The clinic was on the outskirts of town, not far from the place he was renting. A great location since he was planning to offer boarding services as well. He’d managed to find a beat up old cabin to rent that sat right on the beach and he’d never lived so close to the water before. Granted, in the dead of winter, he wasn’t going to be hanging out on the dock much, but the view was great, and the other houses on the lane were closed up for the winter which meant no pesky emotions filtering from the neighbors to bother him.

  Being an empath encouraged him to seek out isolation.

  Though, he had to admit that he didn’t feel the crippling anxiety as much now as he had before deciding to put down roots in the small Idaho town. He had a feeling that a short, feisty little demon hunter had something to do with that. She’d been jealous this morning. Her emotions carried to him with a clarity that was so close to thought, there were times that Micah swore he could read her mind. And whereas he could have taken the time to better reassure her, there was a sick, twisted part of him that enjoyed the possessiveness she displayed.

  Micah set the stack of boxes on the reception counter and rubbed his thumb across his fingertips, thinking of the first time he touched Jacquelyn and healed a nasty cut on her face with his touch. His fingers were nothing special, just simple appendages. But when those normal, unspecial fingertips touched someone like him; another Bearer, or a Waerd, like Jacquelyn, they became a conduit for magic. He always felt a need to heal which was why he’d chosen to go into a medical field. Perhaps he was born a healer.

  He’d wanted to be a surgeon, but it just wasn’t in the cards. The potential of too many emotions assaulting him, distracting him, sent him on another path. Animals didn’t project their emotions the way humans did. Micah still had to deal with the grief and worry that people projected when losing a pet or facing an incurable illness in their beloved companion, but it wasn’t as intense. It didn’t send him over the edge. Plus, once he was alone with the animal, a peace came over him that put him at ease. He could focus in the absence of emotion, do his job without any distractions. Emotions could be crippling. Especially when they didn’t belong to him.

  He grabbed a box from the stack and his coffee before heading back to the exam room. The X-ray and special diagnostics machines had been installed and were ready for use. His medical license had finally transferred over from Washington and his practice was registered with the Idaho State Board of Veterinary Medicine. The cupboards were stocked with supplies, though he was still waiting on the heartworm prescriptions and the rabies vaccines. And there was the small matter of hiring a receptionist and a vet tech. He grabbed a notepad from the counter and scribbled: Call Dept of Labor re: employees. Employees were a pretty important part of opening a practice. No way could he do all of this on his own, and he was running out of time.

  Which was why he was so damned antsy to get the clinic up and running.

  Tonight was his last obligatory meeting with the Dryad, which meant her three months of proffered peace were also coming to an end. He’d struck the bargain with the Dryad for Jacquelyn. To give her ninety days of freedom from the secret life she led that was so harsh and unforgiving. Micah couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He still couldn’t believe how commonplace the existence of the supernatural had become in his everyday life. She deserved it, though. Jacquelyn deserved every ounce of easy sailing he could offer her. And to be honest, the price wasn’t so steep. The Dryad had proved to be good company. He could think of worse things than spending a few hours with a pretty girl once a month.

  Truth be told, Melia didn’t seem like the evil creature Jacquelyn made her out to be. Micah knew that wasn’t her real name, but he had to call her something and she’d happily supplied the moniker. In the supernatural world, names equaled power. Speaking the names of certain demons could summon them to the human realm. According to Jacquelyn, there were fae creatures living in the world, though rarely seen, that coveted their names like rare gems. And likewise, when a Dryad spoke her name, it enthralled men to the point that they would do anything the Dryad asked of them. Apparently Melia wanted Micah’s company and not his servitude, which was totally fine by him.

  A familiar presence rippled across Micah’s skin, the emotional signature something warm and comforting, yet possessed of a strength that had a tendency to set Micah back a step or two. “I’m back here!” Micah called out, though he knew she could find him without having to say a word. She was a crafty old woman and Micah loved her almost as much as he loved his own mother.

  “I’d say you’re just about ready to go,” Trish Whitney remarked as she walked into the exam room. “The place looks nice, dear. It’s about time we had another clinic in town. Joel Simpson is getting too damned old to wrestle calves and vaccinate sheep.”

  Micah leaned a hip against the exam table. “Don’t get too excited, Trish. There weren’t a lot of farms in Bellevue. My expertise is companion pets. You’re going to have to give me a few months before I can tackle anything farm related.”

  As the resident “big boss” of the territory, Trish’s was the Sentry’s right hand for the area not to mention the most powerful empath Micah had ever met. Though he loved Trish and trusted her with his life
, he also knew that she kept her fair share of secrets and she wasn’t planning on spilling any of them any time soon.

  Trish said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Pfft. I’m sure you’ll be in tiptop shape by the time spring rolls around. ‘Till then, there won’t be much need for a vet with livestock experience. You have time to study up.”

  A comfortable silence descended and Micah felt her mood shift. He had a feeling this wasn’t a purely friendly visit. Trish took her role as Master Bearer very seriously and since Micah was still technically a squatter in her territory, he surmised the Sentry was ready to give him an ultimatum: fish or cut bait.

  “My apprenticeship request has finally been approved.” Her tone was level, but Micah sensed the indignation Trish felt. “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” she said. “The Sentry does its good in the world, but the red tape drives me absolutely crazy. Anyway, as of the Solstice, you’ll be designated as my official apprentice and assigned temporary title of Bearer for this territory. I just thought you should know.”

  Micah cocked a curious brow. Wasn’t it nice of Trish to let him know how she’d organized his life for him? “What about Finn?”

  “Finn is in no condition to work right now. Healing should be the only thing on his mind.”

  A few months back, Jacquelyn’s Bearer, and ex-boyfriend, Finn has fallen pretty to a sadistic asshole named Pete with unrequited love syndrome. Pete called up a trio of Furies to take vengeance on the people who’d made his life miserable and Finn suffered an attack that had nearly killed him. Micah managed to pull Finn back from the precipice of death, but he’d suffered injuries that even a Bearer as strong as Trish couldn’t heal. Supernatural wounds were tough that way, and though he and Trish had both helped get Finn on the road to recovery, he wasn’t one hundred percent yet.

  “How’s the physical therapy going?”

  “Finn’s a tough cookie. He’ll be back on his feet soon. Until then, he’s been put on restrictive duty.”