by Marie Dry
Mark said something to Thailog. Thailog stiffened and anger contorted his face. Then it smoothed out and they talked for a long time before Thailog nodded his head.
Mark got into the car.
“What did you say to him that made him so mad?”
“I told him I’d kill each and every one of them if they harmed your friend.”
Sabrina was touched and trying not to soften toward him. If he could wipe out a farm full of gargoyles, what else was he capable of? “Why did you put her in the boot?”
“I didn’t want whoever is in her mind to see where the gargoyles lived. Even blindfolded they could use her to find out where I was taking her. Thailog has been apprised of the situation. Gargoyles have heads like rocks, it’s impossible to influence their minds. They also have a very good glamor around the farm. The drogge won’t be able to find her here.”
“Do you think the witch that did the glamor betrayed us to the drogge?” It was still unreal that she calmly talked about witches and glamors and the drogge, as if it was normal to know such creatures.
“No, I think she took money from the amateur vampire hunters.”
“Are you going to confront her?”
“Yes,” he said with grim promise.
“Will Mikaela be safe among the gargoyles?”
“They’ll care for her. She’ll be treated well.” His voice was somber and it scared her. Would he tell her if Mikaela was going to die?
“What about her parents? I practically grew up in their house.”
“She’ll be allowed to contact them.”
Instead of going back to the city, they traveled towards Stellenbosch, known as a student town with surrounding wine farms.
“Where are we going?” She didn’t want to meet any more scary creatures today.
“I need to bring the wolves on board.”
Sabrina sat up straight. “Werewolves?” She didn’t want to meet werewolves. Or more gargoyles or demons or whatever weird creatures walked the earth.
“You’d call them that. Most of the unknowns call themselves the nation.”
“Just the nation? Not the lycan nation or the scary werewolf society or something.” No matter what they called themselves, she didn’t want to meet them. She was all supernaturaled out.
“They don’t need to call themselves all kinds of scary names.” He looked grim. “Their deeds speak for themselves.”
“How are you going to convince them to join your fight against the drogge? What if they say they don’t want to get involved? Or they don’t believe you.” The drogge didn’t feel like a real threat, like the gargoyles who’d kidnapped her. Even though Mark had told her that they are responsible for what happened to Jo and Mikaela. She’d seen the gargoyles reaction to the very mention of the drogge and still the threat did not seem real.
“One of the times the drogge emerged, they killed their king’s woman. A wolf never forgets a slight. It’s been centuries since that king died, and still they seek vengeance on the drogge.”
“Great, more creatures with delusions of grandeur. I suppose we’re going to see the king of the werewolves?”
“He doesn’t need a title to rule.”
They turned off into another farm and Sabrina wanted to pinch herself. Shouldn’t all these creatures be lurking in dark mysterious castles in Europe? How was it possible that they have been living in sunny South Africa and no one had seen them? Surely there should be more local legends about scary people. Or bodies found with their guts ripped out or their blood sucked dry.
With the next turn they made, she saw a very large black wolf running alongside the car. More and more wolves joined it until they had a whole pack of black, gray and white wolves escorting them. Big impressive pillars held armed guards on top of it. As they passed, cold dark eyes followed their progress. She shivered. She’d expected them to be doglike. Friendly and only ferocious when threatened. Instead, they all seemed like they wanted to tear them apart.
“You don’t have to be afraid. It’s all posturing,” Mark said. “They see me as a friend. If they thought us enemies, they’d have eaten us by now.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
The wolves looked as if they wanted to tear them apart. As if they just waited for them to get out of the car before they ate them.
“They have old-fashioned views of women. Your ladylike ways will impress them.”
Ladylike ways? She never saw herself as that. Besides, if anyone understood Klingon, they’d know she swore like a sailor.
“Just keep quiet and listen to everything. Try and decipher their body language, in case I miss something.”
She had the strong feeling he only said that to give her a purpose away from her fear. Still, she nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”
They stopped in front of a very modern mansion and their door was opened by a uniformed man who dwarfed Sabrina when she emerged from the car. Then Mark was there with his arm around her.
“Take us to Herman.”
The wolf’s name was Herman? A very Afrikaans name, again she’d expected some Romanian name. Somehow it just didn’t fit. An uncontrollable urge to laugh overcame her and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the hysterical laughter.
Mark’s arm tightened around her. “Don’t. Swallow it. They don’t take being laughed at very well.” His lips barely moved as he whispered to her.
Sabrina nodded and abruptly all the urge to laugh left her. They were surrounded by wolves and people who could turn into wolves at any time.
They were shown past a huge entrance hall into a room that looked like a study. A small man sat behind the large desk. Sabrina blinked. He wasn’t even her height and slight. Somehow she’d thought the leader of the werewolves would be large and intimidating like the guards outside.
“Welcome,” he said in the same booming voice Thailog had used.
Sabrina barely suppressed the urge to jump.
“Carl,” Mark said evenly.
So this wasn’t Herman, the leader Mark had so much respect for.
“Carl.” Another voice whipped around the room.
Sabrina jumped then saw the small man leaping over the desk and away from the huge towering man standing next to the chair. Mark and the gargoyles were huge. Compared to the gargoyles the werewolf was just tallish. Lean and muscled, he had the look of a mean street fighter. She didn’t want to meet this guy alone in a dark alley.
“Forgive my stepson. He likes to impersonate me.” His words were a clear warning to the small man who now cowering behind them.
Sabrina moved closer to Mark. Herman was an imposing presence, but Carl set off all her spidey senses. Mark moved until they didn’t have their back to him.
“Herman, allow me to introduce my wife, Sabrina.”
The wolf came forward and, taking her hand, leaned over and kissed it in a gallant move that was somehow natural. “Sabrina. What a lovely name. Welcome to my territory.”
“Thank you.” How did these people divide territory? It sounded to her like he could be claiming territory that the gargoyles saw as theirs.
Letting go of her hand, he gave Mark a sharp look. That one glance told her how dangerous this man could be. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“The drogge are stirring.”
Herman smiled a savage, satisfied smile. “At last. I have waited a long time for payback.”
He turned quiet and contemplative, and she wondered if he was thinking of the werewolf woman that was killed so long ago. Was he perhaps a descendant? Going by his expression these wolves held a mean grudge.
“It’s been centuries.”
Mark sounded exasperated.
“Carl, ask Jane if she’d be good enough to bring some brandy and--” Herman turned to Sabrina with lifted brows.
“Tea,” Mark said, pulling Sabrina closer with a possessive arm.
They sat down in comfortable chairs, arranged at the side of the desk.
“What kind of a wolf would I be if I let such a slight go unpunished?”
“This is serious, beyond your desire for revenge. You don’t just bite their jugulars and they die.”
“Are you sure?” This was a man spoiling for a bloody rematch. “We’ll decapitate them. That should work.”
“They can come back from that. We need to kill them and find a way to make sure they stay dead. You heard about the women disappearing?”
“It was on the news.”
“They reported seven cases. More than fifty have disappeared. In the last week.”
Herman swore in Afrikaans with impressive inventiveness. “What the hell do they want? Why do they appear at odd times and then disappear?”
“My father was convinced they worshiped Kratos, a being older than human civilization.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
Mark’s demeanor turned somber. “My father was not a fanciful man.”
“Our best bet is to defeat this Kratos or whatever they worship,” Herman said. He gave Sabrina a quizzical look. “Something wrong, Sabrina?”
She couldn’t hold back the hysterical laughter anymore. “I’m married to a gargoyle and talking to a werewolf who wants to defeat some weird being older than dirt. Literally.” An ache pierced her heart. She wasn’t married to a gargoyle, she should not allow the false memories in her mind to let her ever forget that.
“And that amuses you?” Herman said very softly, and suddenly he seemed all teeth.
“It’s hilarious. Who knew werewolves lived outside Stellenboch and spoke Afrikaans?” She went off in a peal of laugher again. “Gargoyles make wine, what do werewolves do?”
Herman turned to Mark. “You do not bed her enough.”
Sabrina stuck her fist in her mouth to try and stop the hysterical laughter, but it was impossible.”
“She is well satisfied, but has dealt with a lot over the last few weeks. I beg your indulgence.” Mark subtly moved so that he was a little in front of her.
Herman dipped his head in a regal gesture. “Of course.”
Sabrina managed to stop laughing and, apart from the occasional burst of giggles, managed to sit quietly, while the two men planned a war.
“I’ll need your men in the city to keep their ears to the ground. I’ve got people keeping a lookout as well.”
“What are we looking for?”
“We know people disappear. We need to know where to. Any place suspicious. Somewhere with strong mystical guards in place.”
Herman nodded. He and Mark finished their Windhoek beers and Sabrina drank her tea.
After that, they said goodbye. They left and Sabrina moved closer to Mark when she saw Carl glaring at them from the veranda. Samuel waited for them with his usual expressionless face, but Sabrina noticed, with all the wolves and armed men around, it was Carl he kept an eye on.
“Is Carl a wolf, too?” He was different from the others in a way she couldn’t pinpoint.
“No. He is human,” Mark said. “The most vicious animal on earth.”
At home, he followed her to their room, leaned against the doorjamb, and watched her change her shoes. She hated the need to wear the chunky health shoes.
“Look at me.”
She looked up and clashed with glowing ice shards.
“I need to take your blood.”
She recoiled, nauseated at the thought of anyone drinking blood. “Why?”
“I need to be able to track you.”
“You tracked me to church that day and you didn’t take my blood then.”
He shrugged. “Short distances, with no barriers and spells interfering I can track you.”
“I don’t want you to do it.” Apart from the fact that she couldn’t imagine letting anyone suck her blood, it would also be unbearably intimate. She didn’t want to get that close to him, not with the memory, of how he’d manipulated and planned to use her, haunting her.
“If you are taken to a place protected by the spells of a powerful witch, I need to be able to track you.”
“You know? Before you came into my life, I was very happy, living a life where all kinds of creatures didn’t try to kidnap me.” Her life might have been a bit boring, but it was real.
“I can protect you against humans. If the drogge takes you, I have to get to you fast. I want you protected when they come. If ever they get their hands on you, I want to be able to talk to you telepathically.”
“Have you ever seen a drogge?”
“No, no one has, no one alive.” There was something in his voice, a boiling grief and anger.
“Did they kill someone close to you?”
“My mother.” He help up a hand. “Don’t ask me about it.”
Sympathy stirred. ‘Is that why you’re willing to use me to catch the drogge. To avenge your mother.”
His expression closed, shut her out completely. “No.”
He was lying. His mother was not the whole reason but it was behind a lot of his actions. This was where she’d have told anyone else going through this not to let hatred destroy them. To try and understand his motives. When you were the bait, that was not so easy.
She didn’t want him taking her blood, but she also wanted him to be able to track her if the drogge got her. “How would you do it?”
He knew what she meant. His gaze heated. “I will make love to you, and when you’re ready, you’ll offer your neck to me.”
She snorted “Try again.” To tell the truth she was tempted. She wanted to lose herself in sex for a while. That was what it was. Not making love with her husband, only sex with a stranger.
“I can see you want to.” His voice was pure seduction. “Take off your clothes.”
“Now? It’s still daylight.” Was she really going to do this? Could she do this? Could she not do this?
“We’ve made love in the daytime before.”
She wanted him to make love to her, ached for him, but she couldn’t bear the thought of making love, knowing he didn’t care for her. That he was some stranger who’d used her own mind against her to convince her she loved him. So that he could use her to trap his enemy. The worst thing was that she still loved him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get rid of those implanted feelings.
She took a deep breath. Those hours in the gargoyles wine cellar were still fresh in her mind. If ever she was in such a situation again, she’d want Mark to be able to track her. And right this moment she needed the oblivion of sex. If she was going to be killed by some horrible creatures, she needed to live for the moment.
“I can see you thinking. Don’t, it’s just a precaution. Please, Sabrina, allow me to make love to you.” He appeared strangely vulnerable. “In all this ugliness, you are the only beautiful thing.”
Slowly, with trembling hands she unbuttoned her dress, pushed it over her hips.
It fell at her feet, reminding her of the color of the ocean at Sea Point.
“You’re beautiful,” he said in a reverend whisper.
“Even my knee?” Sabrina bit her lip, regretting her words almost immediately. The scars on her knees didn’t matter. If she could have Jennifer back, she’d walk proudly with scars over every inch of her body.
Some emotion, almost guilt flashed over his face. “You’re beautiful, your knees are beautiful.”
She gave him a shy smile. Maybe he was messing with her mind again but she preferred to believe that he meant that.
“Take off the rest.” His words caressed her, erotic heat and pure seduction.
He’d seen her naked and she enjoyed the raw desire in his eyes. Still, it was hard, stripping, with the unforgiving sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtains.
Instead of taking her in his arms, he slowly undressed, allowing himself to be as vulnerable as she’d felt undressing for him. He was beautiful. Muscles rippled when he took off his shirt, pushed his pants down his lean hips.
Mark picked her up and laid her gently on the bed. “This is
for you, I know you don’t trust me and won’t believe this but I am not manipulating your mind.” He bent down and kissed her neck, moved down until he nibbled on the upper slopes of her breast. “I want to give you pleasure you will remember--pleasure that has nothing to do with my enemies or my duty to the whole damn world.”
He made love to her so gently, she battled tears even as her body responded to his tender touches and kisses. Mark sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue scraping over the nub, and she moaned. He did the same to the other breast and nuzzled the underside. “I could spend days worshiping your sweet breasts.” At last when she moaned and twisted, caressed every inch of him she could reach, he kissed his way down her body. He parted her thighs and carefully entered her with one finger. “You’re ready for me. You want me as much as I want you. Please, Sabrina, want me as much as I want you.”
He rolled and, careful of her knee, settled her over him. “I don’t want to hurt your knee.” Even now, in the heat of the moment, she could feel his guilt over her knee.
He moved her over his stiffened penis until he was sheathed to the hilt. He waited one long second and then he started to move, slow gentle thrusts that drew her over the edge quickly. He did that for a long time, gritting his teeth, holding back his own orgasm until she begged him to finish. At the same time she never wanted it to finish. Wanted to down in this sensual pleasure and never face reality again.
At last she lay in his arm, sated and too tired to care about mind control or gargoyles or any other creatures. “Do it now.”
“Are you sure, it won’t hurt a lot, but it will hurt. It’s not like in the movies where I bite you and you orgasm from it.”
She frowned at him. “So why didn’t you do it while I was out of my mind with pleasure?”
“I want you to know what I’m doing to you every moment. Never again will I manipulate your mind. From now on, all our memories will be real.”
Sabrina gathered her courage and offered him her neck. Her heart beat so loud she was sure he could hear each terrified beat.
“Hold onto me,” he murmured. Mark lowered his head and she felt his teeth penetrate her skin. It definitely wasn’t like in the movies. No ecstasy, it was terrifying and it hurt. But not unbearably, and he quickly lifted his head.