by Nina Croft
He moved to the spot, pulled the jar of powder from the depths of his pocket, and unscrewed the lid.
Think of Julia. She’ll pine away when she finds out what a coward you really are. That you didn’t stay and fight.
He walked in a circle, sprinkling the white powder so it formed a ring around him about ten feet wide. And all the time, he whispered the words of the incantation. Inside him, he could feel Dante struggling to be free, but he couldn’t allow it until the spell was complete.
Really don’t do this. How about we make a deal? How about a wager?
“No deals. No wagers. This finishes tonight.”
The truth was he could have ended this at any time if he had been willing to pay the price. But he hadn’t wanted to die.
You don’ have to.
If he was honest, he still didn’t want to die. He liked living. And he’d liked it even better since he’d met Julia.
You think you know her. You know nothing about your precious Julia.
That made him pause his movements. “Tell me.”
Don’t do this, and I might.
“Fuck off.”
Bastian, just listen—
He clamped down with his control and the voice was cut off, but he knew that wouldn’t last for long. He emptied the last of the powder to the forest floor, closing the circle. His breath left him in a sigh of relief.
Nearly over.
He pulled the knife from the sheath at his back, and the silver blade glinted in the moonlight. He raised it up. Wrists or throat? The carotid artery? One slice and it would be over. He could do this.
He closed his eyes and an image of Julia filled his mind. Lying beneath him, her blue eyes gazing into his, her lips slightly parted. This was for her more than anything else, and he was glad he’d met her. She’d shown him there were good things left in the world. She’d given him the strength to do what he needed to do.
He raised his head, pressed the tip of the blade to his throat, steadied himself—
I will not let you do this!
Suddenly the control was wrenched from him. The arm holding the knife lowered to his side as though by some invisible force. He fought against it, until the sweat beaded on his forehead, but the demon had control. He battled for power but couldn’t break the grip Dante had on his body. He’d been biding his time, hiding his power. There was only one thing Bastian could do. He’d been hoping to avoid this, but the circle would hold the demon.
He whispered a word through gritted teeth and suddenly the demon’s hold was gone and Dante lay on the ground at his feet. As the other man pushed up, Bastian lunged out with his leg, slamming Dante in the chest with his foot, knocking the air from his lungs so he crashed back to the forest floor.
“Fucking bastard. You’d die for this. Are you crazy?”
“That’s your problem,” Bastian snarled. “Have you never learned that there are things worth dying for?”
He raised the knife as Dante sprang to his feet, then hurled himself at the invisible barrier of the circle. He rebounded, smashing into Bastian, knocking the knife from his hand. Bastian lunged for the blade, grasped his fingers around it, lifted it to his throat—
“Bastian! No!”
Chapter Seventeen
When Daniel had told her where Bastian was headed, she’d had a moment of disbelief followed by a sense of rightness. Back to where this whole nightmare had started for her.
Strangely, it made sense. She was guessing this was where it had started for Bastian as well. This had long been a meeting place for the pack.
The sky was clear and though the moon was not yet up, the stars lit up a silver path through the trees. Once this would have terrified her, now she felt at home in the night. Even so, a sense of urgency filled her as she made her way through the dark forest. A strange tension tingled in the air, the same she felt each time she had shifted. Magic? Without conscious thought, she increased her speed until she was running, weaving between the huge trunks of the ancient oaks.
Daniel and the pack were somewhere behind her, but she’d asked to go ahead to speak to Bastian alone. Tell him her big, dark secret and hope they could find a way to move on. She’d even let him tie her up if that’s what he needed. A quiver ran through her as she remembered the fierce lovemaking at his apartment, the savage bite of the leather against her skin.
She skidded to a halt as she entered the clearing, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
“Bastian! No!”
He stood off to the side of the clearing before the great wooden throne. And he wasn’t alone. Close beside him was another man, but Julia didn’t take him in. All she saw was the silver blade gleaming in Bastian’s hand, the tip pressing against his throat, so even as she watched a bead of blood oozed from the spot and trickled down his skin.
He was going to kill himself. That was why he had come to this place.
Anger unfurled inside her. Leloo howled. How dare he? How dare he not give her the chance to save him? Without thinking, she hurled herself forward.
“No, Julia! No! Don’t break the circle.”
The fear in Bastian’s voice broke through her anger. At the last moment, she saw the circle marked on the forest floor. She didn’t know what it was, but the urgency in his tone slowed her. But too late.
She crashed into Bastian, tearing the knife from his hand and tossing it to the ground. He leaped for it, but she clung to him.
“Julia, no.”
He tore her hands from his shoulders and pushed her from him. Even her inhuman strength was not enough to hold him, and she stumbled back and fell to the floor landing on her bottom. Instead of going for the blade, he lunged forward, grabbing for the second man who leaped past her.
“Shit,” Bastian growled. “Julia, come here. Get behind me, goddammit.”
There was real panic in his voice now, and she didn’t think to deny him. There was something she didn’t understand going on here. She had a weird feeling that she’d screwed up but didn’t know how. She glanced around and at the same time pushed herself to her feet. As she headed for Bastian’s outstretched hand, someone grabbed her from behind, gripping her shoulders, the fingers digging in tight to the bone.
She was pulled back against a hard body and a sharp, bitter scent, like rotten eggs, filled her nostrils. One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. The other shifted to her neck.
“Don’t move, or I’ll snap her neck like a twig.”
Bastian had gone still in front of her. Always he’d seemed so in control of his emotions but now panic flared in his eyes and his hands balled at his sides. Every inch of him radiated tension as though he was holding on to his control with every fiber in his being. “Let her go, Dante.”
The man holding her shuffled to the side. Keeping his grip tight around her waist, he leaned down and grabbed the knife. Lifted it and pressed the metal against her throat. She swallowed and felt the blade nick her skin.
“Why should I let her go?”
“Because if you kill her, I will follow you to the last corner of Hell and tear your evil head from your body.”
“Oooo, I’m so scared.” The hand at her waist slid up, and she squirmed against him, kicking backward with her heels. “Hold still, bitch.” He squeezed her waist again, and she forced herself to go still. “Hmm, I can see why you like her. Maybe I’ll take her with me. I’m sure Julia and I could have a good time together.” He leaned in closer so his hot, fetid breath whispered across her ear. “You want to come and have some fun with me, Julia? I promise I’ll make you forget that asshole over there.”
“Fuck off,” she snarled. Inside her, Leloo fought to be free, growling and clawing, but she didn’t know how to do this, how to release her wolf. Why hadn’t she listened all those times Daniel had tried to talk to her?
“Maybe not then,” the man murmured, though she knew whatever he was, he was no ordinary man. She could feel the inhuman strength in his hold and a sense of evil hung aroun
d him like a tangible thing. “So say your farewells, Sebastian.”
“Let her, go.” Bastian swallowed. “Please, Dante, I’ll do anything you ask. Just let her go.”
“Well you see, I don’t trust you anymore. Once I had hoped you and I could be partners, but you’ve ruined that idea. No, I think I’ll get way more out of this by slitting your little girlfriend’s throat. So say good-bye to Julia.”
Bastian closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened, they were filled with pain and guilt. He stared into Julia’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She was going to die, and in that moment the only thing that mattered in the whole world was letting Bastian know how she felt about him. The knife was pressing against her throat. She ignored it and held his gaze. “I love you, Bastian.”
Something flared in his eyes.
At the same time, the hands holding her fell away, and she was free. The knife tumbled to the ground at her feet. She glanced around but the man was gone and they were alone in the clearing. All that remained was the lingering scent of sulfur on the chill air.
Bastian stood across from her; for a second his face was blank, and then he threw back his head and laughed.
She stared at him, her mind coming back from that place of death.
“Say it again,” he said.
She knew what he meant. “I love you.”
He stepped toward her and his big hands gripped her waist, lifted her into the air, and twirled her around. Lowering her, he kissed her mouth, a fierce, primeval kiss that filled her mind and body. Finally, he held her up and away.
“I love you, Julia Melville.”
Happiness washed over her in a great big wave. He loved her. Then she went still as she remembered something. He still didn’t know about Leloo. And she had to tell him, but did she have to tell him now? Could she not just enjoy this for a little while longer? Tell him tomorrow perhaps.
But she knew she wanted no more secrets between them.
She wriggled in his arms. “Put me down.”
His brows drew together. “I don’t want to.”
“Put me down, please. I need to tell you something and I can’t while I’m up in the air like this.” He might drop her from a height once he discovered the truth.
He kissed her again, a quick, hard press of his lips against hers, before resting her gently on the ground. “So talk.”
She glanced across at him only to find his gaze running over her. “I like the outfit,” he murmured.
She was wearing tight black leather pants and a pink corset top under a long black leather coat. She looked totally badass in a cute sort of way. “I wanted you to see that I can be bad. I can be whatever you need.”
“Honey, you couldn’t be bad if you tried.”
She stamped her foot. “I so can be bad. I can be very bad. In fact that’s what I wanted to tell you.” She took a deep breath.
“It doesn’t matter, whatever else you are or think you are, I know that you’re a good woman.”
“How? How can you know?”
“Because I made a bet with a demon.”
She went still. “A demon.” She swallowed. “That was a demon.”
“Yup.”
“And you bet on me?” So the bet had been true, but not with Melanie. With a demon. Right.
“Yes. I bet on you, Julia.” He grinned. “I bet that I couldn’t get a good woman to say the words ‘I love you.’”
“Why didn’t you just ask me to say them?”
“Because you had to say them and mean them. I just didn’t expect to fall in love myself.”
Aw. Was she really a good woman? Did that mean she wasn’t a furry, evil, flesh-eating monster, after all? As Daniel had said, maybe you could be a werewolf and be good. She was going to try. “And what did you win?”
“I won my freedom. Two hundred years I’ve been possessed by that demon and now I’m free. You freed me.” He took a step toward her, and she stopped him with her palm held in front of her.
He’d been possessed by a demon? That was who Leloo had been reacting to, when she growled and snarled. Not Bastian at all. Inside, Leloo wagged her tail in agreement. Then the rest of his words came into focus. Julia blinked up at him, checked him for wrinkles. “Two hundred years? You’re two hundred years old?”
“Actually, I’m four hundred and twenty-six.”
“Right. And that would make you…?”
“A warlock and half fae.”
“Fae. As in fairy?”
He grinned. He couldn’t seem to stop. “Yup.”
“Crap. I’m in love with a fairy.”
“Half fairy.”
“All I wanted was a normal guy.”
“And you got me.” He held out his hand to her. “Forever if you want me.”
It occurred to her that she wouldn’t lose him. He wouldn’t grow old while she remained the same. Wouldn’t die while she was still going strong. He might not be normal but he was perfect for her. Julia slid her palm into his, then tugged him close, and raised her head for his kiss. Remembered that she still had something to say.
She leaned back from him to give herself space to speak. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m a—”
He swallowed the word with a kiss, then picked her up and carried her to the huge throne, pulled her down on his lap without releasing her lips. Finally, he raised his head and stroked her hair back from her face.
“No really, I have to tell—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He kissed her again. “Whatever you are, whatever you’ve done, I love you.”
Oh God, how she wished she could just let this go, accept his declaration, worry about the rest later, but she couldn’t do it.
Tugging free of his hold, she pushed herself to her feet and turned to face him, hands on her hips. He needed to know she meant business. “Goddamn it, will you just listen to me.”
He smiled as though he found her cute. That wouldn’t last.
She licked her lips. She could do this. “I’m a werewolf.”
And the smile slipped from his face.
…
She had to be fucking kidding. Bastian flopped back against the wooden throne as the euphoria drained from him.
Why the hell would she say something like that?
He searched her face, her eyes were stormy, her lips in a tight line. But the rest of her still looked…cute. No way was she a fucking werewolf.
“Can you honestly say that it never occurred to you?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “Even after you found out about Daniel?”
“Of course it didn’t occur it me. Werewolves don’t have families.”
“This one does.”
“And you don’t look like a werewolf.”
“What’s wrong with the way I look?”
“Absolutely nothing—that’s the point.” She looked perfect. She also looked serious. He had to get out of there. He’d thought of them as monsters for so long, and now he couldn’t get his head around the idea that the woman he loved was one of those monsters.
Julia a werewolf.
How could his life turn to shit so quickly?
He rose to his feet, avoiding looking at her again as he strode away.
“Where are you going?”
He didn’t turn around.
“Goddamn it, Sebastian, I just saved you from a goddamned demon, the least you can do is stay and listen to me.”
He kept walking. A low growl sounded behind him and a ripple of primordial fear ran through him. The scars on his back tingled.
She moved faster than he would have thought possible—werewolf fast—and suddenly she was in front of him, her small figure barring the way. “You will stay and listen to me if I have to tie you to a freaking tree and beat some sense into you.” She stepped up closer, entering his personal space, and a wave of power rolled off her. How had he missed that?
“I”—she punctuated each word with a stab in the chest. “Am. Not. Evil.”
He glanc
ed down and everything inside him locked up tight. She must have seen something in his face because she followed his gaze.
“Oh,” she said. “That’s never happened before.”
Dark blond fur covered her hand, or rather her paw and razor-sharp claws protruded from the end, one resting on the center of his chest. She slowly drew it downward, and the claw sliced through the material of his shirt. Bastian flinched as it touched his skin and waited for the wave of revulsion.
It never came.
“Okay,” Julia said. “That’s sort of not normal and maybe a little bit scary. But it doesn’t make me evil. Please, Sebastian.”
He dragged his gaze from the paw and up to her face. Still the same sweet face. She blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. Christ, he’d made her cry. Surely werewolves didn’t cry. Something painful knotted around his heart, squeezing so he could hardly breathe. He swallowed, tried to get his thoughts together, remember why he hated them so much.
But Julia hadn’t murdered his wife. Neither had her brother. Could he let the hatred go? It was all that had sustained him for so long. All that had allowed him to go on when life with the demon had seemed intolerable. But Dante was gone.
Thanks to this woman. This good woman. Who he loved with all his heart. That hadn’t changed. How could it; she was the same person she had always been.
He dragged the air into his lungs. He could do this. “I know.”
“You know?”
“That you’re not evil.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really. And I love you.”
She searched his face as though she didn’t quite believe him, small white teeth nibbling on her lower lip. “You understand that you have to love all of me. I’ve spent too long hating what I am, pretending I was normal. You can’t ignore that part of me. It’s all or nothing.”
The paw still rested against his chest. Now he wrapped his hand around it. The fur was silky soft and he raised it to his mouth and kissed it gently. Beneath his lips, the fur receded leaving a small, delicate hand with pale pink nails. He rested her palm back against his heart.