Belong To The Night

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Belong To The Night Page 3

by Shelly Laurenston


  Millie’s pretty brown eyes grew wide. “Really?” She leaned in and whispered, “I guess as a police officer you would know people like that.”

  “Former police officer, but yes.” She gazed at the vehicle. “You just don’t see a lot of ‘66 Camaros in this condition.”

  “Really?” Millie asked again, barely glancing at the car. “I try and take good care of it. To quote my daddy, ‘You gotta be ready ’cause you never know when the Revenuers are gonna come.’”

  Jamie nodded slowly. “I see…and the Revenuers are a big problem for you, Miss Millie?”

  “Not anymore.” She winked and walked around to her driver’s side. She’d only just unlocked the door when Katie walked up to them, her gaze bouncing back and forth between Millie and Jamie underneath her annoyingly too-large Sheriff’s Department cap. Jamie would think they could afford a cap that fit the poor girl’s head. Gods knew, it wasn’t like she had a small head.

  “Everything all right, Momma?” Katie asked, eyes narrowing on Jamie in obvious accusation. Boy, you give a girl a little nickname and she was a total schmuck about it forever after.

  “Of course,” Millie said. “Why?”

  “Just checking.” Katie forced a smile. “Jamie.”

  “Snaggle.” Jamie saw a flash of fang before she turned to smile and wave at Millie. “Bye, Miss Millie.”

  “Goodbye, dear.”

  Jamie headed back up the street but laughed when she heard Millie tell Katie, “Stop snarling, pup. I’m sure she meant Snaggle endearingly.”

  Tully was sitting in his parents’ kitchen, eating the last of the key lime pie someone had buried far back in the pantry under a bunch of paper bags and behind several cases of Coors, when his daddy walked in.

  “That was mine,” the cat snarled before he’d even gotten past the doorway.

  “Really?” Tully kept eating. “Don’t think I saw your name on it.”

  Jack’s hand swiped the back of Tully’s head and Tully winced. “You know, the claws were unnecessary, Daddy.”

  Before Jack could attack him again, Millie walked in with Katie.

  “What’s going on?” his momma asked.

  “Daddy started it.”

  The feline hissed before taking one of the bags Millie held. “Get off your ass and help, boy,” he snarled.

  “I’m eating.”

  Katie quickly grabbed the bag. “I’ve got it.”

  “He ate my pie,” Jack accused before carrying the bag into the pantry.

  “Why do you torture him so?” Millie whispered to Tully.

  “ Because I can’ is just going to get me slapped in the head again, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “How’s your morning been so far?”

  “Fine.” He rubbed her arm. “And, Momma—”

  “I don’t want you to fret about your father, pup.”

  “I won’t let him come here and start anything. I won’t let him hurt you.”

  “Sssh, pup.” She eased her palms across his shoulders. “It’s just a little thing.”

  “Not really.”

  “Don’t let Buck Smith do this to you. All you need to remember is that you’re my son. Understand?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Good.” She kissed him again before stepping away while he poured himself another glass of milk.

  “So I saw that sweet Jamie Meacham in town just a little while ago.”

  “Sweet, my ass,” Jack growled from the pantry.

  “I don’t know what you have against her, Jackie.”

  “She’s the daughter of Satan. And when are we going to get a report back on her, Useless?”

  Tully didn’t answer until a roll of foil slammed into the back of his head. “Ow!”

  “I asked you a question, boy.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Millie leaned against her kitchen counter. “What report?”

  “Daddy wants me spying on Jamie.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “He thinks she’s up to something.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Millie easily agreed. “But that don’t mean it’s not in the best interest of the town.”

  “I doubt it,” Jack grumbled back.

  “I had breakfast with her this morning,” Tully admitted. “She spent the whole time reading and ignoring my charm.”

  “She must have better taste than that,” Millie said, winning a smile from her son.

  “If I’m going to get any information on her, I guess I’ll have to follow her.”

  “That’s one option,” Millie said. “Or you could try being friendly.”

  “Why would he do that?” Jack walked out of the pantry and stared at her. “Aren’t you going to make me something to eat?”

  “I just fed you.”

  “That was hours ago!”

  Shaking her head, she ignored her husband and stood next to her son. “Well?” she pushed.

  “I don’t understand that word you used. Uh…frrrrrrrr…”

  “Friendly,” she said while tugging his hair and laughing. “Unlike the rest of you people, I’ve actually talked to her. She’s ever so nice.”

  “She calls me Snaggle,” Katie said.

  Tully looked away from his sister and their daddy quickly went to the refrigerator to pull out the makings for a sandwich and hide his laughter all at the same time.

  “She’s only teasing you, Katie.”

  “Don’t sound like teasing to me.”

  “Just try it, pup.” Millie gave Tully another hug. “If you want to get through to her…just be nice.”

  Tully shrugged as he finished off the last of the milk. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

  Jamie’s eyes watered and she held up her hand. “I’m sorry. If you’ll just…I…” Shaking her head, she walked away from the front desk, through the dining room, and into the back kitchen where she found her coven.

  “Someone needs to cover the front desk,” she announced to the entire room.

  Mac didn’t even look up from her notes for that night’s menu. She’d taken over the Smithville Arms restaurant without even discussing it with the rest of them. Not that it really bothered Jamie, but she didn’t like when anyone was presumptuous. “I thought you were covering the front desk.”

  “Hippie alert.”

  Her cousin laughed. “What are they wearing? Rosewater or some obscure incense?”

  “Patchouli oil.”

  “Ohhhh!” her coven sisters said in unison.

  “Not the kiss of death,” Kenny joked while she worked away on her extremely thin, extremely tiny laptop.

  “You know I can’t tolerate that smell. You just know she’s into that whole earth mother crap with her hemp shoes and the too-long-for-her-age hair.”

  “You are in rare form today.”

  “I’m just saying. Ew.” She gave a pleading smile to Seneca. “Please?”

  “All right, all right.” Seneca walked to the swinging door, took several deep breaths, then seemed to hold the last one. “I’m on it,” she said before charging off.

  “Is she really going to hold her breath?” Mac asked.

  “Maybe I should have told her the hippie was checking in a whole pack of people.”

  “Don’t bother her with those little details,” Kenny suggested, probably hoping to find poor Sen passed out from lack of oxygen.

  “Anyone we know?” Mac handed her menu over to her sous chef.

  “Don’t think so.” Jamie walked to the back door. It was always open during the day, even in the winter because the kitchen would get so hot from the ovens. “Name she gave me was Wanda Pykes. After that I couldn’t stand around to hear anymore. Too funky. Besides, what coven would risk coming here?”

  Jamie stepped out on the back porch and stared off. It still always amazed her. The pure beauty of this place.

  “We’re going out tonight with Kyle and Emma. Wanna come?”
>
  She shook her head at Mac’s question. “Can’t. Got a meeting.”

  “Something else to freak out the populace?” Mac sat on the railing, her legs straddling the wood. “What else is going on with you?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “To be honest, you look…tired.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You sure being called a champion is worth all this?”

  “It’s not. But it is worth the power it brings me.”

  Mac took a breath, let it out. She only did that when she was around Jamie and trying not to get upset. “I don’t see why you need more than you have.”

  “I know. That’s why having this conversation, yet again, is meaningless.”

  “Can’t you just enjoy it here? I don’t know what more you want.”

  “It’s that feeling you get, when untapped power flows through you for the first time. When you know, in that moment, you can do anything.”

  “But how long before it’s too much?”

  “It’s never too much.”

  “Bullshit. We both know what happens to the ones who step over the line, Jamie.”

  “That won’t be me.”

  “What if you have no choice?”

  “Nothing and no one can or will make me cross that line. Not now, not ever. And you should know that.”

  Mac slid off the banister and headed back to the kitchen. “Yeah, right,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I should know that.”

  Chapter Three

  It was nearing eleven when she left her house. She wore a simple slip of a dress but no shoes or jacket, even though it was a bit chilly being as they were so close to the ocean. Her hair was wet, smelling like she’d just washed it and the already-curling locks stretched down her back. Most days she wore it in a ponytail but not tonight.

  The only thing she carried with her was a very small bag, which he refused to hazard a guess at what might be in it, and a leather shoulder holster with her .380 that she didn’t bother to put on properly but instead had hanging from her left shoulder like a purse.

  Jamie trudged through the woods and Tully silently followed behind her. She made her way to the clearing she liked to use for this kind of thing after she’d “accidentally” burned down the last one. He stayed in the forest, moving up a small hill where he’d have an excellent view of what she was doing. She placed the holstered gun down on the ground. With the bag still clutched in her hand, she took several steps away from her weapon and kneeled in the grass. She unzipped the bag and pulled out a glass bottle that looked to be filled with water, and a knife with a jewel handle. She placed both items beside her and tossed the bag over by the gun.

  Still resting on her knees, she closed her eyes and took in and let out several deep breaths. She did this at least five minutes before reaching down and grabbing the hem of her dress. She lifted the thin material up and off her body and Tully let out a soft growl. Dang, but she was gorgeous. Real curvy, bigger than what society ever approved of, but just his speed: Fast, mean, and a hell of a ride. At least that’s what he was guessing.

  He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on what she was up to, instead of wondering how good her pussy tasted. He didn’t have time for that. Right?

  Right?

  She pulled the stop on the glass bottle and carefully poured out the contents around her in a large circle. While she did, she chanted softly. His wolf ears picked up her words but he didn’t understand them. They weren’t English or any of the other languages he knew. When she emptied the bottle, she placed it beside her and picked up the blade. It was a fancy looking thing and she used it anytime she worked alone. When she was working with her cousin, she had a different one.

  Grasping the hilt of the blade in both hands, she raised her arms high over her head. Her chanting became louder, necessary with that wind suddenly whipping up all around her. He couldn’t feel it near him, but it was definitely near her, her long hair blowing around her. And while the wind blew, flames burst up around where she’d poured out the liquid, surrounding her in a ring of fire. He worried about another forest fire situation but after the initial rise, the flames quickly lowered and then puffed out. Now he could clearly see she was in a circle from the burn marks surrounding her on the ground.

  She was screaming the words out now, calling out to those she worshipped. She pulled her arms back a bit more before slamming the blade into the ground, and then…

  Lord.

  And then she was gone.

  “I’m not getting in the middle of this,” she said again in her soft Irish brogue. “I warned you not to anger him. You did. Now you’ll need to deal with the consequences.”

  “I’ve tried everything.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not everything.”

  Jamie briefly closed her eyes. “Are you telling me to—”

  “There’s no going back once you start down that path. Just remember that.”

  Jamie did remember that. “That’s what he wants me to do, isn’t it?”

  “Of course. It amuses him to watch you twist in a noose of your own making.”

  Jamie threw up her hands. “Or you could help me.”

  “I’m not getting between you and him. You started it, you can finish it. Or…it can finish you.”

  “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

  “I do try.” She nudged Jamie with her shoulder. “You’re up.”

  “Can’t I do something other than this?”

  “Do you want to earn the title of my champion or not?” Jamie did want that title—and the power that came with it—but these…these…performances were wearing on her last nerve.

  “Fine.” Jamie stood, staring ahead at the silver and black hall of the Dark Mothers, only the goddesses’ chosen warriors and mages ever allowed through the gates. As soon as Jamie’s feet had touched the marble floors, her naked body was wrapped in the garments of those she aligned herself with.

  For tonight, it was the leather and chainmail battle gear of the Celtic gods. She’d been trained by Boudica, the Queen of Iceni, herself and wore two swords strapped to her back. She could use them like she used her .380—at least here she could, on this metaphysical plane of existence. At home, she tended to hit herself in the head with those long mailing tubes they had in the hotel’s main office.

  Jamie cracked her knuckles and watched as the opposing champion bowed before the goddesses. “Anything I should know about this one?” she asked the goddess beside her.

  “He fights with fire.”

  Jamie faced her. “Huh?”

  “He fights with fire.” The Morrighan, the Celtic goddess of war, raised a brow. “That won’t be a problem for you, will it?”

  “Again with the fire,” Jamie muttered to herself as she headed toward the battle pits. “I’m getting so tired of the fire.”

  Tully wondered how long he would have to sit here. He wasn’t much for sitting when he’d rather keep moving. And although it had only been five minutes or so, he was already getting restless. Then, the earth beneath his feet moved, like a hard jerk, and the circle set into the middle of the clearing that was empty, now had Jamie Meacham in it once again. She was naked and on all fours, her body covered in bruises and cuts, and she was coughing up…uh…fire.

  You know…it’s just not everyday ya get to see a woman cough up fire.

  Terrified he was watching her die, Tully tore down the hill he’d been on, heading right toward her. She must have sensed him, too, because she reached outside her circle, and picked up the .380 she had with her. She jerked it so the holster flew off, and aimed it right at him.

  He slid to a stop, his eyes locked on that weapon. Any other human, he wouldn’t be too worried. But her…?

  She was still coughing, but no longer big balls of fire, instead just puffs of black smoke. He slowly sat back on his haunches, letting her know that she had nothing to fear from him. At least, not at the moment. She waited a beat, then two, until she finally began to
lower her arm. But a roar from the surrounding woods had her raising the gun again, but aiming it away from him. That’s when they saw the first one. It came soaring at them, screaming in terror the entire way.

  Jamie automatically fell back, the gun still raised, although he knew it wouldn’t do her a damn bit of good. He shot up and dived at her, shifting from wolf to human with no more than a thought, and landed on top of her, rolling them both out of the way.

  The first one slammed into the space Jamie had just been kneeling in before it bounced up and away. Then another followed, and another. Tully quickly rose up on his knees, and grabbed hold of Jamie’s hand. But before he could pull her out of range, it came tearing out of the trees, running right at them on all fours. Rage making him froth at the mouth, fear making him completely irrational.

  “Shit,” Tully muttered before he yanked Jamie to her feet and tossed her over his shoulder in one move. She’d never be able to outrun it, so he didn’t have much choice. He took off into the woods, knowing it was following right behind them. Desperate, he let out a short call and kept moving. It was gaining on him, getting closer. Taking a risk, he jumped up on the boulder and leaped onto the higher one next to it. He turned just as Bear McMahon tore out of the darkness and went after the outsider. Another grizzly. The bear roared, rising up on his rear legs as Bear did the same. They slammed into each other, their jaws opening wide, trying to get a grip on the other’s head or neck.

  That’s when Tully’s Pack charged in, going after the outsider—some Yankee businessman from Delaware, if he remembered correctly—and forced the bear back and away from Bear and, more importantly, Tully. The outsider caught a few of the wolves that came too close, batting them away, but there were a lot more of the wolves than of him and Bear wasn’t backing off him either. He suddenly seemed to run out of fight, abruptly turning and charging back the way he’d come.

  Tully’s Pack and Bear followed after the bear, while one little hybrid wandered on up to him. She had the muzzle of her feline daddy and the ears of her canine momma…and she had that dang snaggletooth. She trotted over to the boulder Tully stood on and shifted into his beautiful baby sister—thankfully without that snaggletooth. Those braces had worked on her human form if not her shifted one.

 

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