Callie's Guardian: White Tigers of Brigantia (Book 1)

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Callie's Guardian: White Tigers of Brigantia (Book 1) Page 43

by Lisa Daniels


  “And now he’s dead. Useless whelp,” his father snarls, yellow eyes gleaming as his son turns away. He strides up in a swoop of malice, and seizes the trembling boy by the cuff of his neck, shoving his face into the pooling blood of the freshly killed human. “Eat!” A manic expression enters his father’s face. His fingernails lengthen, his canines become that little bit longer. Passion is leaking, the emotions manifesting in physical form.

  The boy trembles and cries, as he is forced to bring his mouth to the dead man, and tear into his skin, resisting the urge to retch the whole time.

  Chapter One

  Tia locked gazes with a man across the bar. He was sprawled out on a black leather stool in a white shirt and blue jeans, not dressed to kill, but as if he had rolled out of work and walked straight in. In the orange light, under tufted, messy iron gray hair, protruded amber eyes, which made Tia blink, and investigate the odd combination of color. She contemplated whether he was faking the whole appearance, with contacts rammed over his irises and hair dyed in the rebel manner of teenagers acting out against their bonds. She estimated his age to hover around the thirty mark, noted the casual button shirt, still trying to figure out if she found him handsome or pretentious.

  Certainly, there was something there, brooding under the fathomless features. Despite the much hotter women to his left, baring a scandalous amount of flesh, he focused only on Tia Winters.

  The lights in the bar deepened to a violent red, and heavy rock music blared out the overhead speakers. Those already on the dance floor spasm faster to the beat of the music, and others pushed past Tia and Anna in a scream of noise and laughter, all deciding at once to grind their sweating, heat trapped bodies on the floor. One man spilt his foaming yellow drink on someone who had no right to the amount of muscle on his broad-shouldered frame. It made Tia think of the image of a gorilla in a suit, and the image brought a smirk to her face. The larger, bald man proceeded to beat the absolute shit out of the drink-spiller, which drew her attention away from the stranger with the unusual colorings, and a face smeared crimson by splotched lighting.

  Anna watched as well, and tapped Tia’s drink closer to the edge of the table, prompting her to pick it up. “Hey, Tia. Totally saw you checking out the fake hair dude over there,” she stated, slurping her drink in a manner that would make Tia’s father turn in his alcohol soaked grave. “You could do worse. Gonna try for him?”

  Tia shrugged casual dismissal, and ran a hand through her thick dark hair. “I probably won’t.”

  “Why not?” Anna asked, genuinely curious. Of course, they both had come here for one thing and one thing only – the chance to get lucky. Anna had recently broken up with her boyfriend and had been practically clawing at Tia to be the honorary wing-woman – though she didn’t have anyone trapped in her sights. Any man would do, as long as they were reasonably good looking and could hold sentences longer than three syllables.

  Tia preferred keeping it simple. She was quite the fan of an uncomplicated life, though Anna argued it was because Tia hadn’t met the right man, or she tended to scare people away with dead baby jokes. Tia conceded she was probably right on that score, but still thought anything could be funny in the right context. In the seedy haze of the nightclub, Tia examined her blonde-haired friend, who hid a depressed mind under mascara and a wide smile. Although she insisted she was here to get Tia out of the house, in truth, Tia was here for Anna, to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, or hook up with the wrong sort of guy. She considered it friendly and saintly duties.

  “Well,” Anna said, once more slurping at her drink, “he’s coming over. If you don’t go for it, I will.”

  “Fine,” Tia said, rolling her eyes, but feeling a thrill of excitement course inside. “Since I did the soul-searching eye exchange, I’ll deal with him.” What Tia had to look forward to back home was a cold apartment, where she was stuck within the crumbling walls of a place for which she barely made the rent every month from hour based retail work. She had the independence, but it went hand in hand with a smash of loneliness. Prices had to be paid.

  The gray haired man weaved through the thong of people fishing for new drinks from the bar and up to Tia and Anna. Paying little regard to Anna, he examined Tia with those peculiar amber eyes. He smiled wolfishly, pulling Tia’s attention in further, finding the expression mesmerizing on a level. Anna, of course, flicked back her blonde hair and puffed out her substantial chest, but he continued to ignore her.

  Eventually, Tia cleared her throat. “Are you going to introduce yourself or stand there awkwardly?” She plumped some sass in there, with a healthy dose of eyebrow raising.

  His lips curled at the corners, revealing jagged canines. “Danny. And you?” He slid into a spare seat by the women. Anna glowered, a little put out, though true to her nature, she gave Tia a wink, before scouring the crowd for any other potential men to hook up with.

  “Tia.” When he reached out a hand to shake, Tia took it. She noticed that his nostrils were flared, every now and then making sharp inhales, as if absorbing the scent of everything around. Several questions sprang to mind. “Is that hair for real or are you just a fan of the color?” she said, not sure if she would believe him, even if he said yes.

  “Real. So are the eyes,” he confirmed, before politely enquiring for Anna’s name as well. Tia liked the sound of his voice, a musical baritone with a hint of gruffness to it. She liked the way he looked at her, attention flickering from top to bottom, the fascination shown in his leaning forward body language, though she couldn’t exactly tell why. There were plenty other choices, and far more attractive women willing to give everything in a night. Maybe he appreciated the way Tia wasn’t trying to thrust her breasts into his face, like Anna preferred in her man-snaring methods. Or perhaps, it was because of Tia’s charming personality. Of course, sometimes Tia could do with some extra lessons, and with less inappropriately timed jokes, but she wasn’t about to turn the guy away at a whim. Shivers rippled through her spine at the presence of him, and the strong, pine needle scent emanating from his skin. She detected a kind of field around him, something that naturally attracted and repelled at the same time. It was hard to describe how it worked or felt, only that Tia knew that there was something about him scratching at her subconscious. The eyes, though they crinkled at the corners just right, seemed cold and apathetic, even as he flirted and smiled.

  Danger, Tia thought. The primal instincts of her brain stirred. This man reeks of danger.

  “I can’t place your accent,” Tia continued, shortly after the man had seized drinks from the bar to share with her. Anna, at this point, with a hug and a whisper in her ear to stay safe and enjoy the romp, had advanced onto the dancefloor, under the neon lights, joining the grinding mass. “But, then again, what would I know about accents? I’ve never even made it out of the state of Virginia.”

  “Really?” Danny acted surprised. The drink of choice was something Tia had never tried before, and it sported a strong, cherry aftertaste.

  “Never.”

  “You’re missing out, then! There’s an entire planet with amazing things and people. Some people, not so much. Is normal, though. Depends on the places you pick.” He drank a long draught of his drink. “This is Belgian beer. Cherry flavored. Belgium is quite famous for it. I went to Bruges, once. Magnificent city. If you ever travel, I recommend you go there. I can show you pictures on my phone…” He started thumbing through his cellphone, making Tia smile as he gestured for her to peer over his shoulder at the glitter of buildings and lights. Most of the designs made her think of the gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel, as they held that same, edible look. Despite the initial reservations she had about him and the cold glint of his eyes, she liked how emphatically he talked about the places he had seen, insisting she shouldn’t limit herself. He put his phone away, not wanting to be attached to it rather than miss out talking to her. He eventually admitted that he came from Bulgaria – a place Tia had only ever t
hought about when it was mentioned as a Quidditch team in Harry Potter.

  Maybe I was mistaken about the danger. Or maybe I wasn’t. She kept on the cautious mask, in the meanwhile switching between her conversation with the charming Danny and making sure Anna wasn’t making a fool out of herself. Thankfully, her best friend was not snogging the face off anyone yet, and had instead fallen in what appeared to be engaging discussion between her and a short-haired girl with high cheekbones and pixie-like curves.

  “Do you think I’m ignorant for never having traveled, Danny?” Tia bombed the question. In his place, she thought she would, but she wanted to know his response.

  “Well…” Danny gave a shrug. “Yes. I think those who do not see the world limit their minds. But that is not to say I haven’t seen travelers with closed thoughts as well. But, is more likely. So why? Why stay in one place?”

  The honesty was refreshing. It prompted Tia further, down the path she felt most comfortable with, but what Anna insisted was terrible social manner. Tia didn’t think her manner uncomfortable. She just preferred honesty. More honesty than strictly necessary, perhaps, but Tia strongly believed the world would be a much better place if people admitted to things more often.

  “My mom’s a druggie, my dad was an alkie, and my brother’s the biggest redneck you could ever imagine. Let’s just say that between them, I had to grow up pretty fast and snag myself a job so I could move the hell out. I’ve just honestly not given the outside world long enough thought past working my job, scouring internet at home, and dealing with my best friend over there.” Tia jerked her thumb at Anna, who was now laughing uproariously with the short-haired woman.

  The Bulgarian took a moment to process the words, before nodding. “Bad parents.”

  “Mm. Happens. Not much we can do about it growing up. They’re everything, you know.”

  The ghost of an expression flitted over Danny’s face. “Yes. We unconditionally love our parents.”

  “That’s right. We don’t see what’s wrong. And if there is something wrong, we don’t understand it. It’s only later we have a choice. You can’t always help what happens to you. You can choose how it defines you later. And I,” Tia announced proudly, taking another sip of the cherry beer, “Do not let it define me as a victim. Simple.”

  Danny nodded along to her words, apparently rapt. Hastily, he raised his drink. “Good thinking. I must say, I find you a little more interesting than expected. Is not so often to hear this for me. Is almost a shame you have not given thought to travel.” He glanced down to the pocket where his cellphone buzzed. After a moment’s hesitation, his eyes shifted into a glint of resolve. “You should explore the world. You really should. You will have time. Maybe,” he said with a soft smile, “You ever want to come to Europe, you can call my number. I show you the best places.”

  Tia sensed a dismissal in his words. “Are you going?” Disappointment flooded her. Anna was right. She shouldn’t have just launched into the topic and presented her views on attitude so soon. But honesty mattered. It always mattered. However, she wasn’t entirely sure if he was planning to depart because of her forwardness or not.

  “Yes. But not because of you. Because,” he pointed at his cellphone, tucked away in his pocket, “Someone is waiting for me. They have texted. I give you my number, though. I would like to talk to you again. If okay?”

  “Sure.” The disappointment twanged, even in spite of the offering he gave her. She didn’t want the man with the amber eyes to vanish from sight, or to lose the earthy, pine scent of his body, which relaxed and aroused her at the same time. She would have seriously considered accepting if he offered the invite to go somewhere a little more private. His pale skin, and the eyes that had turned from cold agates to something more malleable and soft, shone regret as he stood up, her number secure in his cellphone.

  “I am truly sorry. You are beautiful girl. I do not hesitate to say that. In mind and in heart.” He bent to kiss her knuckles. “I hope to speak to you soon.”

  Although for Tia, it was a little sudden for someone to suddenly be making that sort of declaration, it did lift her heart, making something flutter. Under the obnoxious noise of the music, the shifting neon glare and the sleazy press of hopefuls packed inside, Tia didn’t feel ashamed to say she wanted to speak more to this man. Instead, he retracted from the conversation, as if spooked. As if summoned.

  She watched the man with the amber eyes depart, along with the fascination and consternation he carried with him.

  She bit her lip, idly drumming the side of the table as she stared at her phone, with Danny’s number displayed. There was something suspicious about his withdrawal. She knew she had no right to pry into it, no reason to think it anything other than something normal.

  However, she always liked seeking out truth, as well.

  Chapter Two

  Danny hesitated outside the filthy alleyway, with the pungent odor of accumulating trash and rotten food, and the stain of urine on the walls. His heart thrashed in wild fear, his lips were dry over his teeth, and his limbs trembled, turning into mush. If he did this… if he dared do this, what retribution would it bring?

  Growling hatred hit his ears. Lurking further down the alley, tucked in the darkness, shone animalistic yellow eyes. The figure emerged out of the black, revealing a decrepit, dirt-stained man with a savageness to his features, a hungry, gaunt restlessness. Living on the city streets had not been kind, compared to his natural habitat in the mountains. The man hated this environment with a burning fervour, but it also offered more stability. Security. Except he had rejected the life the others had offered, and dragged his son with him.

  “Well, boy? I don’t see anyone tagging behind you. But I smell the scent on you. Are you going back in?” His father limped over, his emotions betrayed by the enlarging of his canines, the intense glimmer of the twin suns in his stare. Danny knew he caught the scent of fear as well, knew his heart traitorously pumped the sound to his father’s enhanced ears. The mild inflection of his question betrayed the knowledge bubbling within. He merely waited for Danny’s new excuse.

  “There was cop presence, and no one was alone. We can’t be suspicious. We have to pick and choose, if we do this at all.”

  His father, Nikolai Lubova, shivered indignation, but kept the rage in check. A slice of moonlight cut through the clouds, hitting the open corner where the buildings widened out. “You’d have me eating rats again, boy? You’d reduce yourself to that level, too? I thought you would be more proud of your,” he started coughing, clamping a liver-spotted hand over his mouth, “H-heritage. Proud of who we are. You disappoint me every time.”

  Danny had no idea what to say. Every option led to ruin. His father hated how he refused the flesh, rejected the attempts to indoctrinate him in the noble way their ancestors had lived. Yet, Danny still assisted his father with kills, still lured people out whenever the craving of flesh became too strong for Nikolai to endure, even after he lost the advantage of his once handsome features, and the strength in his arms. The move to America had reduced that assistance, almost as if Danny was trying to wean his father off the flesh – but at least four more women would never find their way back home to their families.

  How did you tell the man who brought you up that you didn’t want it? How could he explain that there was so much more to the world than the Bulgarian forests and mountains, and the flesh-eating branch of the others he knew?

  The ones he had met here were different. They averted human flesh, for the most part, taking rigorous training to immunize themselves to the craving. They didn’t go on rampages in small, isolated villages, spreading infection like the Slavic brethren. His father, hoping for glory in the new land, was disgusted upon finding this out, and refused the offer of a job, a chance for security.

  Unbidden, flashes of memories assaulted Danny’s brain. Whole villages erased from the mountains. Howling laughter, as many dived into the living skin of pleading, crying humans, content wi
th their nature, the sinew stuck in the gums of their teeth.

  “They just live different here, father. They learned to cope without it.”

  “Ridiculous. Oppressing their nature. You know,” Nikolai said, giving his son a disapproving glare, “I know you will flake out again. You’ve always been soft. Nothing like your older brothers. They made me proud. I wish you were strong, like them. I still wish.”

  And they’re dead, Danny thought, with savage, bitter satisfaction. He thought once more of the woman inside the club, the dark haired, blue eyed beauty that had a way of looking into you, of saying words that struck somewhere close to home. She would have been the perfect target. He knew she would have followed him out the club, he could smell the arousal coming from her skin, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He might have even taken her to a motel and screwed her under the blankets, but then Nikolai would be lurking nearby, waiting for the morsel that was promised.

  Everywhere, at each turn, all roads twisted and bent into Nikolai, and the memories of the killings, the promise that blood was thicker than water.

  “You should have taken the offer, father. We wouldn’t be like this. They wouldn’t be looking for us. We would not be skulking criminals. This is not pride. This is foolish stubbornness.” Shit, Danny thought, even as he forced the words out from his constricted throat. He won’t listen. He never does. The pride kills him.

  His father lashed out with clawed hands. Danny flinched as the sharp nails tore into his cheek, leaving bloody furrows. “No Lubanov will bow down to the demands of weak-willed, shameful inheritors of our blood. I would rather live in shit and piss than bend the knee to the softness that infects our whole society.”

  Danny breathed hard, the fear pinching his heart, fogging his brain. He hated his father’s anger, dreaded it. Still, the words kept escaping. “No Lubanov ever got exiled from their own community before,” he spat. “Even your appetite was drawing too much attention.” Guilt pounded at Danny as well. For failing his father. For having taken so many lives. For not being able to stop. It was always luck, or a certain word someone said, that spared them. Not because he was a morally correct person.

 

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