by Aliya DalRae
But mostly she cried because, if Harrier were to leave, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself.
Chapter Twenty-Five
W hat the hell was wrong with that girl?
Once outside, Harrier took several deep breaths in an effort to calm himself. If the ferals had tracked her GPS, or worse, followed Seamus, they were screwed. Did she truly not understand the seriousness of the situation? If Fuhrmann wanted her dead, then his hired thugs wouldn’t stop until she was.
Being feral didn’t mean they were stupid. While going over to the wild side would have muted their vampiric magic, they still had the same abilities as any other Vampire, or human for that matter, when it came to technology. Plus, with Fuhrmann’s bank account behind them, there was nothing the ferals couldn’t do.
Harrier touched his ear piece and said, “Perry, I’m going off line for a bit. You two keep your eyes peeled. We’ve been compromised. I’m going to check from the air and I’ll let you know if I spot any intruders.”
“What happened?” Perry’s voice sounded in his ear.
“The cat used her phone.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. If the ferals don’t kill that little minx, I’m liable to do it myself. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, Harrier stripped down and called to his owl form, transferring that magical essence deep inside him into corporeal existence. With the change completed, he stretched his wings wide, and took to the air.
Harrier couldn’t believe Seamus had driven out here. What could Kythryn have told her father to get him to go against their Overlord’s orders and put them all in danger? Had she complained about Harrier?
He lit in a tree and twisted his head around to get a good look at the surrounding landscape. From this vantage point he could see nothing out of place. A few nocturnal animals scampered through the forest, but nothing large enough that he’d mistake it for a feral Vampire. He took off again, made another circle, all the while searching his memory for what he might have done to drive her to such a drastic move.
After that first morning, Harrier took it upon himself to be as polite to Kitty as he could. She’d become quiet, subdued, and really, he’d taken his cue from her. She’d cut out the smartass comments, spoken to him with a civil tongue, so he felt it only right that he afford her the same courtesies.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss her teasing. He’d become used to her sexual innuendoes, amused by them if not occasionally turned on. But after she woke to find him watching her, her body trembling, the scent of her arousal permeating the room, she’d withdrawn.
What he’d done in the shower was completely reactionary. He convinced himself of that, if for no other reason than to keep himself from fucking her the minute she immerged from the bedroom. She was a job, nothing more. Any thoughts of pursuing her in a sexual manner would be less than professional, and damn it, he was a professional.
A third trip around the forest bore nothing to cause alarm, and Harrier returned to his clothes and initiated the change.
As he pulled on his pants, he thought again of Bella. She’d loved him, true enough, and paid the ultimate price. Nothing good could ever come from loving a mixed breed like Harrier. He’d learned that lesson well, a mistake he would never repeat.
Even if he thought that Kitty could ever look at him with something other than disdain, he would never do that to her. He was a curse, no more, no less.
The Vampires had never really accepted him. Even those in the Legion treated him as if he were the same but separate. There was no way the Shifters would look at him any differently.
Not that it mattered. Kitty had a wall up around her now that he’d never be able to tear down, even if he wanted to. It was best to put thoughts of them as anything other than acquaintances out of his mind once and for all.
There were still a couple of questions nagging at him, though. First and foremost, what on earth had she been dreaming to arouse her so?
And was it the height of arrogance to hope that her dream had been of him?
Chapter Twenty-Six
H arrier stayed gone for a long time while Kythryn visited with her father. She knew she’d pissed him off, but to hell with him. Once her tears dried up and she was able to carry on a coherent conversation, she realized how much she needed this.
Seamus caught her up on everything that was going on at home. The Overlord was in constant contact with the Vampires regarding their investigation into who was trying to off her and why. Well, they knew the who, and the why could only be Fuhrmann’s desire to tie up loose ends from last winter. At this point it was more about finding them, she guessed. So far there wasn’t much to report, but they were still working hard to get to the bottom of things.
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that calling her dad might be more of a blessing than a mistake. If the ferals did come after her, maybe then Harrier and that cutie patootie Perry out there could put an end to this, and put her out of her misery. Then she could go home and shove this whole experience in the garbage where it belonged.
She wouldn’t have to worry any more about bringing the wrath of Fuhrmann down on her, or about some random feral killing her in her sleep. And she wouldn’t have to spend another moment shacked up with Harrier.
She’d liked it so much better when he’d pushed her buttons and lit her fuse. Now it was like they were roommates, or like she was nothing but an assignment, a job he could walk away from as soon as he took care of the bad guys. That was way worse than the bickering.
Her father refused to leave until Harrier returned. Even so, they both jumped when the triple knock sounded on the door. Seamus threw himself in front of her, placing his body between her and whoever was on the other side.
“It’s Harrier,” she said, and scooted around her dad to open things up.
They both relaxed when Harrier stalked in, his hair all windblown like some kind of runway model. He had his boots unlaced, his jeans unbuttoned, and his shirt was a ball of cotton in his hand. What the hell had he been doing out there?
She knew better than to ask, of course.
“The area is clear, for now. I suggest you say your goodbyes before that changes.” That was all he said before marching into the bathroom and slamming the door.
Seamus eyed the thin paneling between them and the extra-large Vampire with the super-sized attitude. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with him?”
Kythryn puffed out a breath and scratched her head. “Yeah, I am. I know he’s difficult, but better our side than theirs, right?”
Seamus threw another sideways glance at the bathroom before pulling Kythryn into a tight hug. “I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
“And I don’t care what that Vampire says. If you need me, you call. Otherwise, I guess it’s probably best you keep your phone off.”
Kythryn laughed through the lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re probably right.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
T wo nights passed, and Kythryn was feeling rather smug. No feral attacks, no Sorcerer infiltrations, nothing bad at all happened as the result of her father’s visit. Harrier’s admonitions had kept her on edge following Seamus’ departure, but after forty-eight hours of a whole lot of nothing, she was back to being bored. On top of that, Harrier was being impossible.
Before, he’d at least been cordial, speaking when spoken to, and cooking more nights than not. Now, he wouldn’t even look at her. He locked her up in the cabin each night as he went out to “patrol” with warnings not to let anyone in, as if she would.
Then to top it off, he’d come back a couple of hours before dawn, half naked and with this satisfied smirk on his face. He had to know how he was affecting her, strutting around with all that skin showing. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop her girl parts from twitching at the sight of him, and he’d be able to sense that. So, he had to be doing it on purpose.
Tonight had gone down exactly like the past two, with Harrier barking orders at her and leaving her alone in that dark cabin. Those blackout curtains on every window had turned the cabin into a virtual tomb. She hadn’t seen the moon in so long, she might as well be dead.
Kythryn paced in front of the big window in the living room, glaring at the overabundance of black fabric. After passing it for the tenth time, she thought, fuck it. She grabbed a handful of the stuff and pulled. It didn’t work like the movies, where one tug brought the whole thing down, and she growled at it for being so uncooperative Determined, she wrapped the material around her hand and gave it a solid jerk. Still nothing, so she yanked, she pulled, she braced her feet on the wall to get her whole ass into it.
After a few minutes Kythryn heard a loud riiiiiip. She hovered in midair for a split second, all Wile E. Coyote and shit, then fell flat on her tail. A parachute of heavy fabric billowed above her head before settling over her like an inky blanket.
Once she fought herself free from her textile prison, she stared out into the night. It was so freaking beautiful. The moon was nearly full, shining high above trees that danced like Russian ballerinas in the midnight breeze.
Kythryn’s breath caught at the sight of it. She never really thought about how important the moon was to her, had taken for granted it would always be there. Being a Shifter, her ties to Mother Moon weren’t compulsory, not like with Werewolves, but she still felt its pull. Until deprived of it, she would have never guessed how strong that pull was.
She took a step and her foot caught in a bit of fabric, causing her to trip. She shook herself free, and paused in her reverie to consider what she’d done.
Harrier was gonna have a shittin’ hemorrhage.
Kythryn sighed. He’d get over it. He was always back well before dawn and he could figure out how to replace it in plenty of time to keep him from bursting into flames. Hell, he probably had a spare in the back of his Hummer. Would be just like him, fucking boy scout.
Deciding to worry about Harrier when she had to and not a second before, she returned her gaze to the peace and tranquility of the great outdoors.
That lasted all of about ten minutes.
The door burst open and Harrier came charging in, fangs bared and eyes sparking, ready to take on the world.
Kythryn rolled her shoulders, prepping for the tongue lashing she knew was coming.
“Get away from that window, Kitty. What the hell is the matter with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
And so it began.
She’d expected him to be annoyed, to be mad even, but she was damn sick and tired of his barking at her. Get away from the window, Kitty. Turn off that damn cell phone, Kitty. And why the hell did he insist on calling her Kitty? If she said it once she said a million times, she hated that name. Never mind the fact that the way he said it made it sound like he was wrapping his tongue around it and sliding all over her naughty bits. Bastard.
As he ranted on, her frustration needle went from caution to oh, no you didn’t. He’d maneuvered himself between her and the window, but that didn’t stop her from stepping toward him and getting as in-his-face as their major height difference allowed.
“There’s nothing out there,” she yelled. “Just a bunch of grass and trees and, oh look! A squirrel!”
“Kitty.” It was more of a growl this time, but she was so over it.
“I needed to see the moon,” she said. “I’m turning into a goddamned mushroom in here, stuck in the dark and putting up with your shit. And how the hell are your stupid light proofing curtains going to keep me from getting killed? Shouldn’t we be more worried about you?”
She stepped around him and waved her arms in the air. “See? Nothing. Oh wait! It’s still dark out. Maybe in a couple of hours I’ll—”
Everything happened real fast after that.
Harrier pounced on her, driving her to the ground as glass exploded around them. He spread his body above hers, pulling her limbs beneath him, while glittery shards showered them in a rainstorm of light and tinkling sound.
“What the holy fuck was that?”
“Quiet,” he hissed, “and stop wriggling around for chrissakes.” Then, “Perry, report. Keep on it. I’ve got her.”
“Harrier, what is going on?” He didn’t say anything, just jutted his chin over her shoulder as he continued to shield her body with his own. Kythryn tilted her head back and shifted her eyes to where he’d indicated, swallowing hard at the sight of a pair of daggers stuck into the wall. Even from her awkward point of view, she could tell if she had still been standing, it would have been the end of Kythryn Flannigan.
“Well, hell,” she whispered. “You saved my life, didn’t you?”
Harrier expelled a heavy breath and leaned his forehead against hers. “Now will you take this seriously?”
Kythryn considered. Looked like the ferals and that Sorcerer were dead set on getting rid of her after all. She’d thought her Overlord had overreacted, that there was no way Fuhrmann would make another attempt, because to her mind, she wasn’t that important. Apparently, she was wrong. Those daggers were definitely meant for her.
She shuddered, her entire body waking up to the sensations involved in the simple state of being alive. An inadvertent lift of her hips brought her in full contact with her savior’s southern regions. Call it hysteria, or a vain attempt at regaining normalcy, but she couldn’t help herself. Her surprised gasp turned quickly into a sly smile.
“Why Harrier,” she said. “Is that a pickle in your pocket, or are ya just glad to see me?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
M ouse’s call came as a surprise. After the way they left things, Nox felt certain he would never hear from the little feral again. An even bigger shocker? He said Maxx wanted to see Nox, tonight. That told him two things. One: Maxx knew more about their little reunion than Mouse had let on, and two: his friend was beyond saving.
They’d set the meeting in an open location, away from too many prying eyes. Cushman Park was a large tract of land where human children played baseball, soccer, and other outdoor sports. It was near Twin Creek, with thick trees surrounding its boarder, and far enough away from town that no one would be around late at night.
Martin and nine other Soldiers accompanied Nox, and they stood in the middle of the park, waiting for the ferals to arrive.
It was well past the appointed time when Maxx showed up, a dozen ferals in tow, including Mouse. The Legion Soldiers had become edgy, and more than a few had weapons drawn when their orange-eyed brethren appeared out of the mist.
Most of the mongrels held back, but Maxx walked right up to Nox, Mouse a step back and to his left. The leader of the brood had a swagger about him that Nox didn’t recall, an eagerness that leaned toward recklessness. Maxx had been many things during their time together. Reckless had never been one of them.
“Maxx,” Nox said. “Why are you here?”
“Mouse said you wanted to meet, so we’re meeting.”
The ferals laughed, but Nox could hear the Soldiers behind him adjusting their weapons.
“You know what I mean, Maxx. Towns like Fallen Cross were never your style. Why here? Why now?”
Maxx shrugged, his dark hair shifting with the motion. “Got a cat to kill. Once that’s done, I’m on to bigger and better things. You wouldn’t know where I could find her, would you? The cat?”
Nox knew his former friend was toying with him. What he didn’t understand was why. He could play the game if it would get them some answers, though.
“No idea,” Nox said. “Since when do you meddle in Shifter business? I thought you were all about arms and drugs. Big city dealings.”
“I’m into whatever business makes me the most money. Right now, that’s killing a
cat.”
Nox shook his head. “What happened to you, Maxx? I mean, you were a nasty piece of work when I left you, but this? It’s…beneath you.”
Maxx sneered at him and took a step forward. “You have no idea what I’m like. You took a third of my brood when you left, Nox. A third. And yeah, it pissed me off, but I got over it. Imagine my surprise when nearly the whole lot came crawling back with their tails between their legs, begging to come home. Mouse.”
Mouse stepped forward to stand beside the leader he’d reclaimed.
“Most of them were ruined,” Maxx carried on, ignoring the young feral’s presence. “Thought they could think on their own, do as they pleased. But Mouse here, he always knew how to play both ends against the middle, didn’t you Mouse?”
Mouse’s beady eyes darted between the two males and he began to tremble. When he caught Nox’s eye he mouthed the words, I’m sorry.
“The rest of them are dead,” Maxx said as he studied his fingernails. “Tank thought he was my equal. He was the first to go. Then Duck, Frankie…I don’t really remember the rest. But Mouse, here, he stayed loyal, didn’t you Mouse?”
Nox’s hands shook and he tightened his grip on the dagger he held as he struggled not to throttle the arrogant bastard. A second later he regretted his inaction. Maxx pulled Mouse in front of him, using him as a shield to block any attack from the Soldiers and to stay Nox’s hand.
“I knew you’d be here. It was half the reason I took this job. But then you had to go and contact Mouse. I gotta admit, I didn’t see that one coming. Unfortunately, Mouse has been getting ideas again, haven’t you, Mouse?”
“No!” Mouse squeaked. “I’m loyal, Maxx. I swear it. I’d—”
But Maxx wasn’t listening. Nox watched, helpless, as Maxx drove a long dagger into Mouse’s back.
Mouse’s eyes widened and blood spilled from his mouth as he struggled to take a breath.