Doing It To Death: Shivers and Sins Volume 2

by Kaia Bennett

  Stark turned and sat, trying and failing to look like a harmless dog. His tail thumped against the ground and he panted, waiting for Evie to stop retreating. He even whined, the manipulative fuck.

  “You won’t hurt me, will you?” The tremor in Evie’s voice said she wasn’t sure. Stark shuffled his front paws in front of him until he lay on the ground. Evie approached, each step more confident than the last, until she stood before the tamed wolf. She placed a trembling hand on the great head of the beast. He moved only a fraction, leaning into the caress, so that the witch’s hand all but disappeared into his thick fur. She stared into the beast’s eyes, and whatever she saw calmed her.

  “It really is you, isn’t it? Under all that fur, you’re still Josh.”

  The wolf answered with a tentative lick to her forearm, showing his allegiance to the witch with a gentle touch.

  For the first time in my presence since before I’d killed her, Evie smiled. A small turn of the lips, but still, she gave the wolf her kindness. She scrubbed her fingers on either side of that massive face and giggled when Stark turned his head in her hands, thumping a giant rear paw when she scratched a good spot. With surprising grace for an animal his size, the wolf slowly sat up on his haunches again. He gave Evie’s palm a sniff and a lick.

  Then he tilted his head skyward and howled, a long mournful note piercing the night with such clarity the hairs on my arms and the nape of my neck stood on end.

  Before he could end that note, another wolf joined him.

  And another.

  And another.

  Until a whole pack of wolves we couldn’t see or smell revealed their presence behind the mists. Beyond them.

  Stark stood, trotted a few steps past the car toward the rear of the house, then stopped and looked at Evie.

  “We’re supposed to follow him.” Evie grabbed her bag and clutched the weapon in her right hand. She pointed the barrel at me. “You two go first.”

  Vaughn’s eyes bloomed black. He slid off the hood of the car and landed silently on the dead grass. “You giving us orders now?”

  Stark turned and bared his teeth to Vaughn, putting to rest any ideas that the wolf didn’t get the nuances of speech.

  Evie pointed Stark’s nine-millimeter at Vaughn’s head.

  “Yeah, you piece of shit, I’m giving you orders. And yeah, I know how to use this. Turns out, I’m a good shot. Now move.”

  The funny thing that came to mind after the wolf took a few steps and I shoved Vaughn in front of me, was that my brother wouldn’t have been able to hurt Evie if he tried.

  I’d have stood between them. I’d have stopped Vaughn before he took the first step. No wonder he hates her. No wonder he blames me for Liam.

  He’s known all along I’d choose her over him.

  I wondered if she knew—or cared. I wondered if she trusted the words that sprang up between us on the floor of her parents’ house when I’d lost all semblance of control.

  Not my pet. Not my prey. My wallet held her license, a kill trophy I’d stolen when she’d been a tasty fuck. In my pocket lay a golden feather, a makeshift collar when she’d been my toy. But I’d called her….

  My mate.

  I’d called her something I’d never heard a vampire call anyone, not ever. At best we had brothers and sisters, or lovers that lasted a heartbeat in the length of our lives.

  A mate, though? Sounded like the kind of shit wolves saddled themselves with for the sake of family values. The kind of thing humans tethered themselves to because they had the life span of flies. For my kind, a mate would be startlingly permanent and weirdly animalistic, and yet I’d felt down to my marrow that she belonged to me, that I’d made her mine, beyond something to fuck and something to kill. Had to be part of the curse, her fucked up powers digging deep as fishhooks into my brain.

  I can’t trust anything I feel for an empath. Everything I feel is a lie she wants me to believe.

  I faced her for a moment as I traipsed backward, taunting away the ache of her spell, the protectiveness I didn’t want to feel.

  “Does that toy make you feel safe, baby?”

  She said nothing, but I knew the answer.

  She’d never feel safe from me.

  I flashed the witch a grin and swiped my tongue across my bottom lip. Her taste lingered. “You should put that weapon down and grab this one instead. I know you like swordplay better.” I grabbed my dick. Vaughn burst into caustic laughter.

  “You smell that, man?” Vaughn took a long sniff. “Mmm. Smells like wet witch pussy to me.”

  Her hand shook with the weight of the gun and her fear. I could almost taste the gathering dew between her thighs, her pussy lips wet and swollen despite her hatred of us. Her eyes lowered to my crotch, the hardening flesh caged in blue denim.

  She sneered and motioned me forward with a jerky point of the barrel, blinking her dilating pupils to normal size after a few failed attempts. “Turn around and walk, before I use you for target practice.”

  I spun and joined Vaughn. He inhaled the last drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt and draping an arm around my shoulder. “That’s the Jesse I know.” I gave him a lopsided grin in return, wishing I felt like that Jesse, instead of this one with the racing thoughts and the mounting thirst.

  We melted into fog that seemed to have a life of its own. Vapor crawled over my legs, up my bare arms, across my throat and face, and through my hair, like invisible fingers inspecting me. Howls tolled like church bells, leading us deeper as we drifted left and right, up slopes of earth and down hills. I couldn’t see beyond the wolf in front of me. I had the feeling as we walked of traversing a wide distance and yet, standing still, sinking into a cloud with no bottom in sight. I clenched the handle of my bag against the anxiety and another hunger pang.

  Stark howled from mere feet away. As the long note sounded, the shapes of a dozen or so wolves of his coloring became visible, forming a living wall. Mists sprang up behind them like tree limbs, but thinner now, wavering in and out like a gauzy sheet blowing in the wind. In the distance I made out the shapes of human beings gathering behind them. The silhouette of a large house loomed.

  “What the fuck is this place?” My whisper echoed in the unearthly quiet, bouncing off the mist like cavern walls. “We should’ve scented all these wolves.”

  A large wolf stepped forward and barked, snarling at Stark and then at us, as we formed a line behind our guide. The strange wolf grew more hostile by the second and Stark tucked his tail in response. Stark seemed poised for a fight with his lips curled away from his teeth in a scowl, yet his ears lay flat, his shoulders hunched forward. By contrast, the strange wolf stood stiff, tail raised, his ears erect and facing Stark as he approached with clear dominance.

  I’d thought our wolf guide preternaturally huge, but this stranger—this alpha, I guessed—had at least a head on Stark, which meant the challenger’s ears came up to about my chest. The alpha approached. Stark met him cautiously. Our guide covered his teeth and let the larger wolf growl against his shoulder, locked almost in an embrace, if not for the threatening way the larger wolf mounted Stark’s shoulders at the slightest movement.

  Stark remained submissive, while trying to shift forward, but the alpha lost his shit, nipping and biting, snarling against Stark’s back. Stark circled out of the attack, whimpered, but stayed on his feet and stood his ground. I found the dance strangely similar to fights between my kind and wondered if this would end in death for Stark.

  I’d have been all right with Detective Stark’s throat spilling out into the ground, and yet, I hoped he lived. How else were we gonna find our way out of these mists?

  The larger wolf disengaged just as quickly as he attacked Stark, looking from the packless wolf to us with glowing amber eyes. With one last bark, the alpha turned and padded through the strange foggy gate. The other wolves waited for him to do so. Some filed in behind him. A handful waited for us to cross their line so they could flank us upon entry
.

  He’d passed their test. Stark padded forward a few steps, tossed a look over his shoulder that seemed to say ‘follow me’ and proceeded through the parting fog. I looked over my shoulder as we entered, and spied the werewolves left behind waiting until the mists were built up behind us. Locked in now. Before us, the mists cleared completely and we stared at—

  The farmhouse we just left?

  7

  “The fuck kinda voodoo is this?”

  Vaughn darted a glance over his shoulder while we circled and took in our surroundings. The same surroundings we’d just left. Only here, Stark’s car was nowhere to be found.

  Something in the air felt different. The sky held a gray tint, the sun hidden behind steely clouds threatening rain or sleet. Still, the air didn’t hold the same winter chill as when we arrived. An unexpected warmth covered my skin, despite the cold I’d felt since the hunger took hold in Austin.

  To our right, the abandoned farmhouse we’d left on the other side teemed with people greeting the morning. The smell of human food wafted through an open window, and pots and pans clanked. Children squealed at our arrival, skidding to a halt when they ran past, or peeking out of the windows to inspect the visitors. Beyond the house, a winding pathway leading into the woods loomed, with caravans and tiny houses dotting either side.

  I stared at the faces peeking out of the caravans, a woman hanging out clothes on makeshift lines, a man lugging firewood to the farmhouse, and children clinging to adult legs or inching out of doorways to get a good look.

  I felt like we’d just dropped into Oz and were about to skip down the yellow brick road. I furrowed my brow and watched Stark for clues to what had happened. He seemed busy getting licks and circling several wolves with joy.

  “How cute.” I spat to get the taste of all that cuteness out of my mouth. “Anytime you wanna change back and tell us what’s going on, Stark, I’m ready.”

  He turned and stared at me, but a sandy-haired woman wiping her hands on a dish towel stepped out on the porch and stole our attention.

  “Leave him be, vampire. He hasn’t seen hide or hair of this pack for years. He’s earned a hunt, and maybe a tussle with an old friend, ain’t that right, Josh?”

  Stark looked hesitant, watching Evie awkwardly take in her surroundings with the gun still clasped in her hand. One of the wolves, a female maybe, licked his face and distracted our guide from guarding his charge. She wanted to play, and Stark did, too, judging by the wagging tails.

  “Go on now!” The older woman laughed and smacked Stark’s hide, like he couldn’t damn near look her in the eye or crack her skull between his teeth. Stark took off like a streak of lightening, loping with his fellow gray streaks into the woods beyond this alternate universe farmhouse. Behind us, some wolves began to transform into humans, but the woman didn’t seem to care about our curiosity. She rolled up the sleeves of her sweater and tucked the dishtowel into her jean’s pocket.

  “I’m Masilda Stark, the high priestess of this coven, and Josh’s aunt. You must be Evelyn.”

  “Evie’s fine.”

  The witch smiled at her young guest warmly. When Masilda looked to me I realized that, even with her sweet scent tangling in the air, my mouth didn’t water. Witches everywhere, and all I felt were hunger pangs and a need to bury my nose in Evie’s throat.

  I wiped sweat from my brow. “Jesse.”

  She looked to Vaughn next, who lit up a cigarette. “None of your fucking business.”

  Masilda laughed, the corners of her eyes fanning out into lines, like sun rays bracketing the blue sky of her eyes.

  The priestess swept an errant tendril of hair out of her face, unfazed. “We’ll call you… Damaged, then. Muddy aura, even for a vampire.”

  She took a deep breath and her gaze fell on Evie again. A world of pain and sympathy shined in those blue eyes. Evie turned away from the older woman’s stare as if exposed.

  “No, don’t turn away. Come here, love. Let me get a good look at you, and while you’re at it, give me the gun. You have nothing to fear within these walls. I’ll put it in a safe place for Josh for when he turns back.”

  Masilda held out her hands to Evie. Evie looked down at the gun clutched in her shaking hand as if in a trance, then placed the handle in one of Masilda’s waiting palms. The older witch took Evie’s hand in hers and rubbed the smooth skin. “Welcome to our coven, child. Are you hungry?”

  Evie shook her head. I wondered when she’d last fed, if a turned witch did indeed, need blood to survive. Every hunger pang I felt had doubled since I fucked her.

  Vaughn and I traded a ‘what the fuck’ look. Witches everywhere, sweet blood flowing in their veins. Witches hidden from the world, witches hidden in another fucking dimension right under our noses on the other side. The priestess hadn’t asked us if we were hungry. Any witch worth her salt knew vampires and hunger were constant companions.

  One ravenous look from Evie at a mother as she ushered her child down the front steps was met with a hushed, “Sweet Goddess. Come here, Anya.”

  What the hell is that emotion she’s feeling? It’s murky as that goddamned fog we passed through, but there’s a drop of anger in it, and a strong urge to run and hide.

  Anger spiked to join my hunger. We don’t hide. We’re the top of the food chain.

  The mists these witches hid behind proved as much.

  “Alright then. One moment, I just want to check on the kitchen. The kids are learning how to make makowiec and pączki.”

  We followed the priestess up the steps and into the house, listening as Masilda barked out good natured commands, in a language that I realized after a moment was Polish. I’d tasted plenty of immigrants during the Industrial Revolution, learned enough words here and there to toy with them while they screamed ‘no’ in Italian, Russian, Spanish, Mandarin, or Senegalese.

  Masilda’s lilt filled the kitchen while several young men and women cooked a breakfast large enough to feed a small army. She removed the clip from the gun and placed the weapon on a high shelf where the children couldn’t reach, children who called her babcia. She popped a plump girl on the ass and told several other children to scoot when they stole a taste of their human food. Bile surged up my esophagus, at the scene and the smells, but Vaughn watched every adult throat like a porn clip.

  Just when I wondered how stupid this priestess had to be to let vampires this close to her most vulnerable witches, Masilda spoke.

  “Normally, a coven doesn’t allow visitors in until the full moon, and only trusted visitors are allowed into the inner sanctum. But, we’re a tough bunch and this is a special circumstance, a favor to my nephew.” Masilda glanced over the shoulder of a little boy rolling dough and covering himself with flour in the process.

  “Why only the full moon?” Evie asked. I noticed the young witch set apart from the bustle of her kind, her gaze averted as one fragile Romani throat after a another passed by.

  She’s starving, too. I bet she hasn’t truly fed since I turned her. But, she’s denying her hunger.

  Masilda laughed at the boy she’d been watching and called to another witch for help. “Keep an eye on him, Aleksy, or we’ll be all out of flour by night fall. What was I saying? Ah, the full moon, that’s right. Most covens are at the height of their power then. A typical coven will use protective wards for much of the month that feed on the beast in our wolf guardians. But, when the moon is full, we have enough power to hold the wards ourselves. You’ll see when the moon rises, love. You’ve been a lost witch, out of sync with the wax and wane of your power, but here, you’ll learn how strong your people really are.”

  While the priestess prattled on about power, my eyes widened with the truth. Evie didn’t know her own strength. Before we’d found her, she hadn’t known about witches at all. My gut clenched a second time with the echo of Evie’s repressed hunger.

  She refuses to feed, which means I can’t. She really did curse me and she doesn’t realize it.

&
nbsp; Masilda looked up then and locked us into her stone glare. “As you can see by our wolves turning outside of the full moon, we’re not like most covens. We might operate a little differently than our sisters and brothers, and give our wolves a bit more freedom, but make no mistake, we’re far from weak. There are protective spells all over this land, pools of energy we can draw from at will when attacked. Try anything funny, and if the pack doesn’t get you first, every witch here will make you wish they had.”

  She cast the full force of her warning at Vaughn. He’d just wiped the corners of his mouth. A shy young witch cast a sidelong glance at him through a mass of long blond curls, a pot full of potatoes in tow. The witches around Blondie didn’t share the same arousal, but Masilda didn’t seem to care or notice.

  With a flick of her fingers, the priestess motioned for us to follow her once more. Outside we went, toting our baggage past the stares of several suspicious and often-hostile witches. A few spat on the ground at our passing. Vaughn grabbed his crotch in answer, and Evie wiped sweat from her brow as the sweet scent of her kind assaulted us.

  “I suppose we should mention the elephant in the witch mists. If we allow you to feed while on our lands, you will respect the donor, and our laws. We do not kill. We do not harm, unless threatened. Every act is consensual. Honor this edict, or starve in the mists beyond the gate, because we’ll cast you out with no guide.”

  Masilda ushered us into the barn adjacent to the house. The rustic structure didn’t hold animals or gear. Instead, the wide space had been gutted and decorated for recreation. Lights twinkled above our heads, strung along the ceiling planks like fireflies caught in amber. A large table for meals or meetings stretched from the rear of the barn the middle, with enough room to seat fifty people on either side. A divide down the center made me think the table could be split in half and pushed against either wall.

  “Everyone out, now! My guests and I need some privacy. Breakfast will be ready soon!”