Love and War Part 2

by Kim Faulks

  The Chosen pushed forward, heading east before turning south. She made sure to stay in the shadows. Her back and shoulder muscles burned under the weight. Each step was slow and painful, but she had no other choice. She leaned the body against a wall, taking respite where she could. Street by street, she slowly she made her way to the alley.

  Her body tingled as she neared. The hair on her nape stood on end. With each step, the soft sensation increased until the current singed her nerves. She whimpered with the pain. A beggar groaned from the darkness. With a whisper, she removed her image from his mind. He fell back to sleep. A dumpster gaped open against the far side of the building. She inhaled and shoved herself forward, ignoring the agony. Her knees buckled with each step until she collapsed against the bin, her chest heaving, and her lungs on fire.

  The white light of Creed's wards burned brighter than normal, separating the coven from the rest of the world. She searched inside herself, for one who'd been as familiar to her as her own body. "Mórrígan?"

  Only the emptiness inside her answered. In this moment, with the power of Creed's wards flaying her nerves, she wondered if she'd made the right choice. Then she remembered the hurt and the resentment that flowed through her like a poisonous river and realized she didn't really have a choice at all. The cops would have no other option now. No amount of police corruption would hide a dead body outside the seedy BDSM lair. With the police would come scrutiny, and the harder they looked, the more dirty secrets they'd find. Creed and the rest of his sheep would have nowhere to hide. They'd be forced out into the open, and there, she'd pick them off, one by one. She hefted the bag of body parts and slung it into the open bin. It hit the trash inside with a dull thump. She turned, making sure there were no witnesses before she stumbled back along the alley, only drawing a deep breath when she reached the spot where the wards no longer reached.

  The words from the elder came back to her. I've not felt a connection like this before. The deity that covets this woman is ferocious. She glanced over her shoulder, down the darkened alley to where the entrance to the coven lay. There was a new witch in town, one who was powerful. How powerful, and what she meant to the members of the coven, was something the Chosen had to find out.

  Out of the darkness, a howl tore free.

  The baying carried a sense of triumph, sending shivers across the skin of her arms. A growl followed, rattling like a stone in a tin can, making her insides quiver. Power and the gods owned this night and there was no mistaking the power of Tlaloc.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Creed lunged. He caught Loc under the arms. The weight hit him like a blow. Creed could do nothing but drop him on the ground. "Easy, brother."

  “Better cage him.” Loc’s voice had the clarity of gravel. “He’s filled with energy from Tlaloc.”

  Since he knew so little about the woman and too damn much about the pure power of their gods, Creed thought the idea a good one. Besides, if the damn hound kept this up, he’d tear the door down.

  “Easy, pup. Easy. I know you’re feeling frisky right now, but in about five minutes, that borrowed energy’s going to wear off and your head’s gonna feel like it exploded. Rest first. Then we’ll see about getting you a date.”

  The dog ignored Creed, but while the animal’s attention was fixed on the door, Creed heaved a sigh and crept up behind him. He bent and wrapped his forearms around the dog’s huge rib cage, heaving him aloft.

  The dog whipped his head. His teeth snapped near Creed’s ear. He staggered across the room, grateful the door of one man-sized cage was ajar.

  Creed shoved the animal through the opening and slammed the barred door closed. The dog made one lunge, then with a whine Creed felt to the roots of his soul, curled into a ball at the back of the cage, eyes fixed reproachfully on Creed. With a sigh, he turned back to his brother. "I gotta go and check on her, Loc. I'll back."

  Creed stumbled toward the door, his head filled with images of blood, body parts, and hysteria. He should never have left her alone out there—not with Fate. Creed gripped the handle and wrenched the door open so hard the top hinge snapped.

  The sound of laughter echoed down the corridor. He stilled. Was it the maniacal laughter of death and slaughter? When the soft chuckle came again he gripped the door frame, open-mouthed. What. The. Hell. When the sound floated to him the third time, he stepped out of the doorway and made his way to the kitchen area.

  He spied the woman sitting at the table across from Fate. His sister had her hood back, scars showing. He shook his head and stared again. Loc's power must've messed up his head. The heat. It had to be the damn heat. His fried brain was playing tricks. Yet, there was Fate. The one who was faster with a sword than anyone he knew, able to slice a man from scrotum to sternum... smiling?

  He cleared his throat. The woman spun in her seat. The smile faded from her lips and somewhere inside, he felt the loss. "He's going to be okay. Loc was able to bring him back."

  And from behind him, the hound trotted forward. The beast gave him a small chuff as he passed. The disdainful look in his eyes said he was thinking about cocking his leg on Creed’s boot. But Creed couldn't worry about how the hound got loose. For that matter, Loc was as soft as he was tall at times.

  He was held captive by the woman's presence. The woman shoved her chair away from the table and lunged toward the animal. The dog leapt, and for one instant, Creed thought the cur meant her harm. Fear rocked him, fear and panic for a woman he didn't know, until she laughed.

  The smile that lit her face sent Creed's heart racing. She collapsed to her knees as the massive dog jumped on her, smothering her with a thick, pink tongue.

  Creed caught movement from Fate and glanced over to Helaine, watching her tilt her head and stare at him. He couldn't look away. Inside, he was grinning like some damn love-sick fool. He wanted to let himself fall for this woman. Fuck, he was falling for her. But he didn't even know her and he had his family to consider.

  Her darkness called to him. It shook the cobwebs from his heart and made his body ache in a way he never thought possible—not after Lila.

  As the woman lifted her head and meet his gaze, Creed knew he was too weak not to answer.

  "How is Loc?" The woman asked, holding onto the massive hound as she climbed to her knees.

  Creed swiveled his gaze to Fate and raised his brow. How much has she told this woman? "He's fine, just resting."

  "Okay. Well, I'd like to thank him. When he's ready, of course. Tell him I make a mean chicken soup. I'd love to take care of him until he’s better. It’s the least I can do."

  The woman laughed, pushing the hound aside. The animal pounced playfully, rolling onto his back across her knees. She ruffled his huge jowls and tickled his scarred ears. He'd bet no one got close to this animal—no one, at least who lived to tell the tale. Out of all the animals that could’ve answered her call, he heard her, and he almost died protecting her, remember that. Creed watched her pet the battle-scarred hound big enough to take down a grown man and slowly shook his head. "I'm not sure what he did to save this big marshmallow. I was sure I'd never see him again."

  She played with the muscle-bound beast as though it were a lapdog. The hound opened its jaw wide and latched onto her arm, but didn't bite down. Instead, it applied a layer of slobber to every part of her he could get to.

  "He loves you." Creed growled.

  She lifted her head. Her dark hair was plastered to the side of her face. "You think so?"

  "Yeah I do. I guess it's time I introduced myself. I'm C—"

  "Creed. Yeah, I know." She climbed from underneath the mammoth and reached to shake his hand. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to thank you before. I'm Helaine."

  He gripped her hand. The connection was instant. Synapses fired and fired again. He couldn't move, couldn’t tear himself away as the cold darkness of her power swallowed him. He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think. His body shuddered when he drew in her scent. The front of his jeans tightened.<
br />
  If this was going over to the dark side, then he was so fucking in.

  She tried to pull away, but he couldn't allow that to happen. Instead he pulled her close. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught. He felt the raw sexual need in her, too. God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to touch her and taste her. He wanted to tear off those clothes and get deep inside her as though he were no more than a voodoo doll and she held all the pins. He reached for the side of her face, brushing the hair away from her jaw, desperate just to connect to the power of the night.

  "Jesus," someone muttered.

  Creed yanked his head up, breaking Helaine's gaze, and stared at the entire coven. They stood open-mouthed, their gazes moving from him to her. He tried to speak but his voice wouldn't work. Confronted with his own damn need, he dropped her hand and stepped away, clearing his throat until he could speak. "Have you met the rest of our co—"

  "Cousins." Fate cut in.

  He nodded, taking her lead. "Yeah, cousins. This idiot with no manners and an open mouth is Nile."

  Nile stepped forward and stuck out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Helaine. Don't let the dumb expression on this guy fool you. He's actually pretty smart when he's able to form complete sentences." He jabbed Creed in the ribs.

  "Fuck you very much, Nile." Creed retorted. The Egyptian grinned.

  He watched Helaine make her way around his brothers, shaking hands with each. Heath swiped his palms on his apron before gripping her hands—both hands. This whole scene was weird. His family never took to an outsider like this. Ned stood back from the others. His long brown hair hid his face. He lifted his hand to scratch his beard, trying his best to hide his smirk.

  Miro stepped in front of Ned and held out his hand to Helaine. His lips stretched wide and his brown eyes lit as he shook her hand. The aboriginal shifted his gaze to Creed and smiled. Old power meets new.

  The sound of her laughter tore him from the past. He glanced up. Helaine and Ned giggled like school girls. The sound of her throaty laughter sent his pulse racing. It was a sound he could get used to.

  Then it hit him.

  How was this even possible? He'd thought his kind was done. No one connected with the gods anymore. Helaine was his responsibility now. She'd been sent to him for a reason and he knew better than anyone the repercussions when a deity was denied. But this woman had a darkness inside her that scared him.

  A darkness more powerful than anything he'd ever felt.

  CHAPTER TEN

  This was too much for her to take in. This man. These people. And yet, as the numbness of her tears evaporated, Helaine felt a sense of belonging. Each member of this group greeted her with kindness and understanding, something she hadn't felt for such a long time. Helaine found herself turning to stare at Creed time and time again, as though in the midst of uncertainty, he was true north.

  The hound stayed beside her, no more than a short movement of her hand away. She touched his hard head and scratched his fur, taking comfort in his presence.

  "So, what are you going to call him?" Fate asked, sitting at the table, staring at her as she petted the dog.

  Helaine hadn't thought of anything beyond saving the dog's life. Was he really hers? "I don't know. I mean, surely he'd have a home somewhere?"

  Fate shook her head. "If he has a home, it sure doesn't look like a good one."

  Helaine traced along a scar that cut across one shoulder to another. The line was too neat for claws or teeth. It looked too much like a... a knife? She bent down and stared at the hound's body. "He could've been in an accident."

  The thought of anything else drew tears to her eyes. In her heart she knew this was a lie. "How could anyone do something like this?"

  She turned to Fate for answers. The woman shrugged and blinked fast. Her voice was husky when she answered. "I dunno. The naïve seem to have no connection to anything, other than themselves. I've heard there's dog fighting rings held in secret locations all over this damn city. I'd bet my sword, this animal called them home."

  Helaine's grip on the dog tightened. No. There was no way she’d let that happen to him, ever again. “What the hell is a naïve?”

  Fate held her gaze. “A human, one who’s naïve to the battle that’s raged for centuries.”

  "You know, when he leapt at you, I thought holy shit that's one big dog. We're gonna need to stock up on meat."

  She glanced behind her to see Heath carrying two bowls, one filled with raw mince, the other sloshed with water. He placed them on the floor near the edge of the table and stood back. The hound took one sniff and turned back to Helaine, as though he waited for approval. Helaine nodded. "Go on, eat. You need your strength."

  As she watched the hound plod away a thought came to her. "If he's mine, then you’re right, he does need a name." She couldn't help but smirk, replaying Heath's words. "Holy Shit."

  "What?" Fate looked around the room and then back to her.

  "That's his name. Holy Shit."

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  "Hey, I kinda like that. It suits him." Heath chuckled and reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears. A low growl stopped his hand inches from their destination. Heath was slow to draw back. "Great. Just great, another temperamental beast in the house. So, who's going to do the honors and introduce him to the pig?"

  Nile barked a laugh. "It's your damn pig, you do it."

  She watched Health slowly turn from one to another, until he finally stopped at Creed. The big man threw his hands in the air and shook his head. A smirk spread across his face. "Hey, don't look at me, brother. The pig's all yours."

  Her scalp tingled as she listened to them. Nothing here was awkward. She felt only acceptance and a bond that seemed unique. These cousins were a family—a real family. The tingling on her skin sent ripples through her chest and settled deep. She wanted to be part of something like this. She wanted—

  "So, it's all sorted then."

  Fate's voice broke her trance. "What's sorted?"

  "You. You're staying with us."

  The way Fate spoke wasn't a request. Helaine shook her head, while inside the ripples turned to shudders. "I can't do that... I."

  "I, what? I can't cook? Clean? Wake up in the morning without looking like someone hit you with a damn truck?"

  She had no words. Her throat thickened, closing up until only a hiss of air escaped. Meanwhile they just stared at her, waiting. She closed her mouth and nodded, feeling like a hopeless fool.

  "Cool, so we're gonna be roomies. Now, let's get one thing straight before we start curling our fucking hair and swapping sex stories." Fate leapt from the table and landed on her feet like a cat. "I don't do mornings, and I mean, any of them. Maybe ten, eleven o'clock might be all right. No, play it safe and just don't look at me before midday, okay?"

  The wicked glint in her eye and the slight curl of her lip eased the grip inside Helaine's stomach. She felt herself imaging the biting temperament of this woman at eight in the morning and smiled. In the space of an hour, she'd gone from being hopelessly alone to finding herself surrounded by people she liked, and who seemed to like her. An ally, just like... Claire.

  The name hit her like a blow. "Claire. Jesus, Claire. I heard." She came back into the present moment and clamped her mouth shut.

  "You heard what?" His deep voice drew her focus. Creed leaned toward her. They all seemed to lean toward her. She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

  Yet, it did matter. Claire was gone. Her blood covered Helaine’s bathroom floor. Ice crept along the back of her neck, clawing at her nerves. She remembered the sound from inside the wardrobe... The sound of Claire's screaming for her. Begging Helaine to save her.

  The sound of her name wrenched her back into the present moment. She swallowed and took in the faces of those around her. Each narrowed gaze stared. The words wouldn't come. How could she expect them to understand, when she didn't understand herself? She had to go back to her a
partment. There was no other way.

  She took a step back, and then another, distancing herself from the group. "Where are you going, Helaine?" Fate asked, and all Helaine could do was shake her head.

  She stepped again. "I... I...." And stopped when she hit a wall.

  The wall growled. She stumbled sideways, tripping over her own feet, staring at the black markings that ran down the center of his arms. A flash of heat, of sex and danger filled her body. This was the man she'd run into on the dance floor. The one with red-haired woman in tight leather pants.

  Before she could get her bearings, a strange voice rang out. “Came to pick up my cage. Am I interrupting something?”

  Peering up at the huge man, Helaine spied the slight flush that swept over his cheeks. She backed away hastily, turning to see who this new person might be.

  The woman striding toward them was shorter than Helaine, but wore tall heels that gave her an imperious air. No, maybe she’d been born with that, on second thought. Helaine eyed the woman’s leather corset and tight pants. Lifting her gaze, she realized this new stranger stared from under raised brows. Her skin was dark, like Miro’s. Black curls crackled around her head. Helaine smiled, but the woman’s lips barely curved. She cut her eyes to Loc.

  “Just let me get my cage and I’ll be out of your way.”

  “No, stay. This is Helaine,” Loc rumbled. “Surely your little boy toy can wait a few more hours.” Helaine darted a glance around the room. Every eye was on Loc and Sarah as the big man stepped forward. Helaine darted out of their way.

  “Bloody hell. So the mountain really does speak?” Ned barked and then chucked.

  In the other woman’s place, Helaine was sure she’d be trembling when Loc bent until his nose touched hers. Something about the steely look in his eye. “You know, woman, if you’d hang around more often, you might find you have no need of little boys.”