by Cecy Robson
We march across the wood floors, avoiding the scuff marks created during the altercation and the mounds of ash from the now re-deceased attackers. I don’t know who the poor sap is assigned to floor mopping duties, but he’s going to fucking hate us.
My vision sharpens as we pass the cluster of supernaturals gathered closest to the door and my arm gives an involuntary jerk. There’s so much mystical energy, the communal power pokes at my skin and riles my arm’s magic. I think she sees them as competition. I only hope she’s wrong.
“Who are all these beings?” I ask Celia.
“Royalty,” Destiny answers. I hadn’t noticed her follow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you mind if I tag along?”
“Not all,” Celia says, shooting me a poignant look.
Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to be watching her. Tee-hee, silly me. “Just stay close to me, kid,” I tell her, making a show of standing in front of her.
I pause, glancing over my shoulder at Celia. “Wait a minute, shouldn’t someone be with you?”
She purses her lips. “Oh, they will be. Don’t you worry about that.”
The moment we step through the doors, wolves in beast form surround us, their four hundred pound bodies creating a wall. Their stares are alert and some lick their jowls, already anticipating what their enemies’ blood will taste like pouring from their fangs.
We keep pace with Celia, Emme’s squeaky shoes outrageously loud along the dark corridor.
“I take it when we’re done they’ll follow us home?” I ask.
“I’m not going home,” she says, her expression growing sad. “We’re staying at the Den in one of the new buildings.” Her long wavy hair brushes against her shoulder when she turns to look at me. “So are both of you, as well as Shayna.”
Emme’s shoes stick to the floor with every step she takes, between that and all the squeaking, no way are we sneaking up on anyone. “Why are we staying here?” Emme asks.
“Because you’re our family and Aric wants to keep you safe.”
“That’s sweet,” Emme says. “But as an Alliance member, shouldn’t I be assigned to guard duty as well?”
“Aric argued against the Alliance assigning you a post, Emme,” Celia replies. “They agreed to his request.”
“What about Shayna?” Emme asks.
Celia’s gaze flickers to me as she carefully chooses her words. “He didn’t want either Shayna or Taran assigned to guard duty. But he couldn’t convince the Alliance. As a compromise, she’ll be helping Taran watch Destiny.”
“But not me,” Emme states slowly.
“No,” Celia answers.
“Is it because they’re mated and I’m not?” Emme questions, shedding light on what Celia doesn’t say.
“No, sweetie,” Celia tells her. “It’s because of who they’re mated to.” She glances at me, apologetically. “As second in command, Gemini holds an elite position in the Pack, as does Koda, being Aric’s Warrior. Due to Alliance numbers being low, mates of high-ranking weres who possess supernatural abilities are now required to assist the Alliance. If we were human, we’d have an out. But here we are.”
I glance behind me as we step outside. It’s close to midnight, and the temperature has dropped significantly since we first arrived. “Is that why Koda and Shayna are fighting?” I ask. “She wants to help, and he doesn’t want her involved?”
“It’s one of the reasons,” Celia says. “He wasn’t happy when he found her carrying that decapitated vamp head around like a purse.” She narrows her eyes. “You were supposed to go out for dinner and drinks, remember?”
“We had a drink,” I offer, not that it does anything to appease her.
“Before or after you hunted the vampires baiting you?” she asks. She doesn’t wait for another smartass response. “They tried bringing the head in for questioning. It’s all they had after the Pack killed the other vamps they tracked. But the stupid thing kept trying to bite them on the ride up. The moment they reached the base of the mountain, the wards blew him to ash.”
“Oh,” I say. “All over Koda’s new Yukon?”
“Yes.”
“Yikes,” I say. Since meeting us, Koda hasn’t had much luck with his vehicles.
“But it’s Shayna’s safety that has him most upset. That, and the lying,” she adds, shooting me another dirty look.
Why am I always the one in trouble? “I didn’t make her lie, and honestly, it’s like that woman can’t wait for a fight . . .” My voice fades when something appears to make sense. “Wait a minute, is Shayna going all wolf?”
“The Elders don’t think so, I mean not to the point where she’ll change and go furry. But they think that the wolf essence that was passed to her has stirred a primal need to hunt.” Celia rolls her eyes. “Based on his growls, Koda would prefer she gather.”
“She gathered that decapitated head rather nicely,” I say, thoughtfully.
“Would you stop cracking jokes? None of us are amused,” Celia tells me. “Koda was already livid when he arrived, but he completely flipped out when Aric told him Shayna would help guard Destiny.”
“It’s going to be a real party!” Destiny squeals, clapping her hands. “Like a sleepover that never ends.”
Yee-ha.
We cross the street. The pads of the wolves’ heavy paws barely making a sound, unlike me in my heels and poor Emme. “What about you?” I ask as we hop onto the next walkway. “Is your inner tigress itching to hunt?”
“She’s itching to hunt, prance, frolic, you name it,” Celia says. “But pregnant weres aren’t allowed to change since it’s too traumatic on the fetus. I’m not were, but Aric doesn’t want to take any chances.”
Celia can also shift underground like sand through colander and surface unscathed. Aric probably doesn’t want her doing that either seeing how her body breaks up into minute particles. “It’s better to be safe,” I agree.
“It is,” she says. “But I can’t make my tigress understand. She wants to run for miles like we used to.” She motions between the walkways separating the houses and toward the forest. “Aric is hoping she’ll be more content here since there are more places to openly roam. I guess we’ll see.”
Celia wants to comply and keep Aric from worrying. Yet the way her bare arms gather around her belly assure me she’d prefer to be home. She doesn’t have a lot of good memories of the Den. How could she? For too long the weres attempted to pry her and Aric apart, angry that his pure bloodline would be ruined by mating with my non-were sister. It was a horrible time for them, causing deep scars that will never heal. Just because she’s finally welcomed doesn’t erase the damage that was done.
“You’re going to love being my bodyguards,” Destiny says, bouncing along, her giant spray of feathers fluttering in the breeze. “I have so many fun things planned.”
“Like shopping for new clothes?” I offer.
“How did you guess?”
“I just know you love your outfits,” I reply through my teeth.
“I do, but that’s just the start. I booked dinner reservations at the Fawn and Pheasant and arranged for a helicopter to take us.”
“Yeah?” I ask. It shouldn’t surprise me. All the higher ups in the magical world possess some serious cash. I never exactly understood how they acquired all that money, be it dues or investments. Whatever the way, it’s not in short supply.
“I also have front row seats to see Johnny Fate later this week. I’ll get two more, for you and Shayna,” she tells Emme.
“Johnny Fate,” I say, slowly. “Isn’t he that freak who tours with all those loud and obnoxious garage bands?”
“He’s not a freak,” Destiny says.
“Yes, he is.” I huff. “Believe me, I know a freak when I see one . . .” My voice trails when I realize who I’m speaking to. “Sorry, girl.”
“For what?” she asks, appearing confused.
And cue the crickets.
I clear my throat and try to help Celia up the stacked sto
ne steps when we reach the building. That goes over as well as you think. She hisses at me, her hormonal inner kitty apparently tired of being placated.
Destiny continues as if uninterrupted, and as if I didn’t come close to losing an eye. “Taran, please. I’m dying to go. There’s something about Johnny that just calls to me.”
“Calls to you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Her eyes develop a vacant stare. I watch her closely, wondering why she seems to slip away. “Are you feeling well?”
“Of course,” Destiny replies, her enthusiasm returning with a vengeance. “Just tired and excited to meet Johnny.”
I’m not sure I believe her.
She smiles, appearing delighted just as another pair of wolves appear in human form. They open the doors, encouraging us to pass. “Thank you,” Celia tells them. She starts to head in, but the weres who escorted us refuse to leave. “As mate to your alpha, I thank you for your service and dismiss you to your remaining duties,” she adds.
They bow, retreating slowly and watching her as the doors shut.
Celia isn’t one for attention and I can tell she’s uncomfortable. She presses her back against the door, looking past the long winding staircase to where three more weres wait. “I’m sorry I hissed,” she says. “It’s been a long time since, you know.”
“Had sex?” I ask, wondering where she’s going with this.
Her face reddens and she glares at me. “I meant had any independence.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
She covers her face, allowing her cheeks a moment to cool. When she drops her hands away the humiliation I caused is absent, leaving only her sadness. “I realize that my baby needs protection,” she admits. “And that Aric and I aren’t enough considering the threats surrounding us. Except it’s hard to accept that this is the turn my life has taken. Somedays, I’m so overwhelmed, I just want to flee with Aric and not look back.” She shakes her head. “But that’s not an option. Nowhere is safe.”
She seems close to tears, her sadness so tangible I’m ready to cry with her. But neither she nor I give in.
Emme steps forward, carefully wrapping her arms around her. “I’m sorry, Celia.”
Emme’s cadaver-ish aroma should send Celia running. Except Celia doesn’t move, welcoming Emme’s embrace and the kindness she offers.
I gnaw on my bottom lip, wishing she and Aric were enough, that we all were. But this big bad, is really bad. I only hope our combined forces can keep her safe.
“You’re going to be okay, Ceel,” I assure her. “None of us are going to let anything happen to you or baby Aric.” I stroke her back. “Have you eaten lately?” She shakes her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, it’ll make you feel better.”
She nods. Food comforts Celia in a way nothing else can.
Destiny steps in front of us, grinning and simply head-over-hideous-boots happy for what may happen next.
Oh, yeah, that’s right, I’m supposed to stay with her.
“When and where is the concert?” I ask.
“Santa Barbara, Friday night,” she replies.
“And you’re sure you want to go?” I question.
“I really do,” she says. “From what I’ve learned, he has the best voice ever. Mesmerizing, even.”
“Mesmerizing?” I ask, something about the word giving me pause and causing my arm to twitch. “Have you ever seen him perform before?”
“Never,” she admits. “But I’ve always wanted to. Something about him has always spoken to me.”
“I’m that way with Ed Sheeran,” Shayna says, nodding like she understands.
“Ed Sheeran is terrific,” Destiny says, approvingly. “But concert goers who’ve attended Johnny’s shows always agree on one thing, there’s no one else like him.”
I’ll give Destiny this, she was right.
Chapter Eight
I hold my arms up and out, allowing the security guard to a wave his metal detecting wand and check me for weapons. I’d heard of Johnny Fate, the hard rocker with a cult-like following, but all of it was bad: tearing up hotel rooms, allowing his fans to beat up the paparazzi, and peeing on public property. So am I thrilled to be attending his Champagne and Guts tour? No. If anything, I’m counting on my stilettos being classified as weapons and getting thrown out.
Already, my teeth are rattling from the brain crushing music blaring through the speakers and the lead vocalist’s “Help me, I’m on fire” screeching. I’m hoping Emme packed earplugs, in addition to the clear plastic rain slickers in case some asshole pukes on us. Seriously, it’s that kind of crowd. Bodyguard duties be damned, I want to save my hearing and protect my cute clothes.
“You a big fan of Johnny Fate?” the guard asks me.
“What?” I ask, plugging my ears when the lead singer of Give Me Death screams the chorus.
The guard laughs. “Don’t worry. Write My Name in Blood is on next. They’re a little better.”
“I’m sure,” I mutter, frowning at how he continues to wave the wand over my chest. Christ, it’s only seven now and I can’t wait for the night to end.
His expression grows smug. “I can get you backstage if you want.”
“That’s not necessary.” He’s a big guy, young and very immature. My guess is he was hired for his bulk, not his personality.
“You serious?” he asks.
“I’m not a fan,” I tell him, wondering just what he thinks I’ll do to get backstage.
“Then what are you doing here, princess?” He gives the wand another wave, this time, closer to my breasts. He’s not obvious to anyone close by, but he is to me, the curvy motions he’s making is pissing me off. “Tickets are hard to come by, and it’s real tough to get backstage.”
I’ll bet it is.
“I’m here with a friend.” I try to smile. “Are we done?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. You have to take off the gloves, gorgeous,” he tells me, his tone suggesting he’d rather I take off my panties. “Gotta make sure you’re not hiding something I haven’t seen underneath.”
“Of course,” I purr at him. He leans back on his heels, watching me peel off my left glove, his stare dragging down the length of the bare skin. The music shifts, growing louder and more obnoxious, not that it distracts the guard. He smiles, approvingly, his expression eager for more. His smile vanishes as I unveil my right arm, the stark white skin and bright blue veins branching across giving him one hell of a pause.
He coughs into his fist, quickly averting his gaze. “You can step through.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, playing dumb. “Don’t like what you see?”
He doesn’t answer. I’m not the perfect woman he mistook me for. I’m deeply flawed and now he knows it. I sashay by him as I slip my gloves back in place. How quickly women go from beautiful to shit in a lowly man’s eyes, and how little he cares who it harms.
I reach for my cell phone waiting for me in the small plastic bin, my fingers sliding over the pretty sparkly case a few times before I think to lift it. I toss the guard a smile over my shoulder. “It’s okay, big guy. My boyfriend loves me, no matter what I look like.”
If he hears me, he doesn’t show it, resuming his wand waving duties. There were several men behind me. I hadn’t noticed them. They noticed me. One guy shrugs, speaking to his buddy and not bothering to censor his remarks. “Her ass is nice and so is her body, just have to keep that other shit covered.”
Nice.
I shove my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and march toward my sisters, trying not to stomp my tall heels against the walkway. I don’t want these assholes to know they hit a nerve. But my feelings aren’t as impenetrable as people think. Anger fills me, as does humiliation, and a little bit of shame although I try to beat all three away. I’m still human after all, and sometimes shit hurts no matter how much you wish it didn’t.
I fiddle with my silver hoop earrings and run my hand down my sleeveless black tiered t
op, pausing at the way Shayna eyes those men. The wolf side she was gifted with probably wants to fight and protect. That’s understandable. If roles were reversed, I’d fry anyone who treated Shayna this way. Except this was directed at me, making the hug Emme greets me with more difficult to take.
“They don’t know anything about you,” she tells me. “Including your heart.”
I give her squeeze, but don’t allow the embrace to linger. I hate feeling sorry for myself. For better and often worse, me and Sparky have worked things out. We know we’re stuck together and I think we’re both determined to see our lives through.
I hop onto the cement base where a brass statue of a musician has been erected, using the arm to help me balance. Although I examined the map of the venue prior to my arrival, I want to make sure I know where we are and familiarize myself with possible escape routes.
The sunken arena is outdoors, and very unlike the sport complexes where most concerts are held. A circular concourse makes up the upper level where I’m standing, the beer and food stands positioned every few yards quickly filling with attendants making their way from the security checkpoint.
From my position, I can see the multiple tiers leading down to the stage where an immense, rectangular flat screen takes up the expanse. Several other large screens are perched on either side, showcasing the members of Write My Name in Blood as they bang their heads to noise they’ve convinced themselves is music. Don’t get me wrong, I like rock. I just don’t like feeling like my skull is being beaten with one.
I ease my way back to the concrete walkway, taking Shayna’s hand when she offers it. “Are we good, T?” she asks.
“The eagle is in the nest and laying eggs,” I agree.
“It’s all about the eggs,” she says, laughing.
Despite my sarcasm, and all my bitching, I’m taking the assignment seriously. In the off chance something should happen, I want to be ready.
“Let’s find our seats,” I tell her. “I don’t want to miss a moment of Johnny.”
“Yes, you do,” she says, her voice practically inaudible over the music. She points to her ears. “I’m already wearing the plugs. This music, it’s too much, my hearing can’t take it.”