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

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Callie's Guardian: White Tigers of Brigantia (Book 1) Page 53

by Lisa Daniels


  What am I even thinking? I'm still married. This couldn't ever work out.

  “Not bad parents if you're not a failure.” Evo fixed her with keen, earnest eyes. A gentle smile played about his lips. “But not good parents, either. My sister took the brunt of the rearing. She was kind of invisible to our mother and father, because of the shame of being born powerless to pure bloods. I was spoilt like a brat. She stopped me being spoilt.”

  “Sounds like mine,” Luelle said, stomach twisting in unease. “Except you need to be a son, not a daughter. My three brothers were treated like kings. I've not seen the younger ones in almost fourteen years, so I have no idea how they've changed. My brother Yanus, though. He's stayed the same.”

  Evo nodded, and held up his hand next to hers. He possessed a wider, larger palm and long, delicate fingers. The baby finger on the right side appeared crooked, as if broken one time, without the chance to heal straight. Her dark hair cascaded about her like a muddy river.

  “He really cares about you. It's nice to see. We could do with a little more kindness in the world.”

  “Yeah, well. Most of the time, I wish I hadn't been born like this at all. I wouldn't even mind being someone like Arina or Frey. Except Arina got her family ripped apart and she then turned into a cop, and Frey seems pretty hung up over the fact that her parents ignored her.” Luelle pinched her fingers together. “Just a little bit.”

  Briefly, Evo's fingers brushed over Luelle's. It sent a delightful twang inside, stretching her nerves as taut as guitar strings. She hoped they might accidentally touch again. “My sis is the best. I hope your brother is as cool as you make him out to be, though. Because I'm pretty sure those two are doing things in bed together.”

  At this, Luelle gave a little snort of amusement. She already knew, and wasn't sure what to make of the news, but they did act happy together. Unfortunately, it did look like Frey wanted to stay and work in Springmoon Hotel, and Yanus wanted to hop to America with Luelle and leave everything behind, which might put the brakes on their relationship. He was prepared to give up his entire legacy just so she could be safe and secure in a different place. Their mother and father had disowned him, made him scum unworthy of inheriting the estates and their vassals.

  They continued talking for a little while longer, sometimes delving into the past, other times contemplating the future.

  “What do you see yourself doing, Evo? Would you continue working with your sister in this hotel? Is there anything for you in your family legacy? What do you expect?”

  A sliver of something crept over his handsome face, leaving the air heavier, burdened. Luelle cursed herself inwardly – she didn't want to upset Evo or make him uncomfortable, not when he went out of his way to cheer her up. She didn't like being that kind of person, with the ability to suck out other people's happiness, like her husband did just by walking into a room. “To be honest, I haven't really thought about it. We started the hotel to get away from our mother. As for the family legacy, I don't think we have any, really. There were plans to make something of ourselves, but dad died. So that didn't happen.”

  “Oh.” Luelle digested the information. “So the hotel is all you have?”

  Evo nodded, eyes flickering around the small, minimalistic room. Something shone there, like pride. “We made it ours. I used to be complacent, lazy and spoilt. Being with Frey has helped me past most of those issues.”

  “Most, you say.” Luelle smiled. She liked the way he talked about his sister, with the soft glow that infused his face and raised the muscles in his cheeks. She dearly wished someone would look at her in that way, and think about her with that wistful expression on their lips. Yanus cared, of course – but they had been away for so long. Their former connection had frayed in the process. They both needed to relearn their relationship, and come to terms with the new stage of their lives. If Luelle was completely honest to herself, she never expected Yanus to give up such a position. Their family had estates worth millions, strung along the Balkan mountains. Losing all that meant becoming poor, penniless, with only a nice surname to point to the path he once had.

  No one in their right mind chose to give something up like that.

  “You're a good person, Evo.” I'm not sure about your sister. She's a little like Arina. They don't have such an innocent vision of the world. “I wish there were more like you.”

  Evo shrugged, accepting the statement. “Don't mistake niceness for weakness, though.” Steel wrought his eyes, and he grasped Luelle's hand firmly. “It's been some people's greatest errors.”

  She examined the muscles bulging under his shirt, the stocky, robust build of his body. Something about Evo hit all the right spots with Luelle. Kind, charming, but with a glimmer of something else beneath the surface, that suggested not all was calm seas and blue skies when it came to the younger werewolf's personality.

  The charm that emanated from him also contributed to the attractive nature of his virile form. He certainly set her senses to overdrive, with the steady waft of pheromones from his skin, along with a nutty, fresh taste that made her mouth water. Heigan gave off an odor like rotting fish, something pungent and awful that made her gag when she slept next to him. Evo pleased every facet of sensory information at her disposal. Her heart twitched in a way she never thought it could, and her stomach had something wedged in it, though she didn't think the feeling was anything like butterfly wings flapping in there. More like leaping frogs.

  Wouldn't it have been nice, if my parents had shuttled me off to someone like Evo, instead? It was, after all, an insane thought; Evo would have been nine at the time. Not mature or powerful enough to warrant a marriage with a proud old family.

  Still, Luelle dreamed of impossibilities, because dreams gave her better feelings than reality did.

  Even with her new lease on freedom, she knew she wasn't yet out of the woods. Until this conflict resolved itself once and for all, she would be under scrutiny of the clans.

  Knowing that Elinor had posted extra guards to protect the Springmoon Hotel brought no comfort.

  The Hotel housed the wounded, the bloodied, the dying – all of these the scents which attracted werewolves if not contained effectively.

  Evo kissed the top of her hand, lips brushing her knuckles. “Maybe when we're not having shit thrown at us from all sides, we can sit down and discuss... certain things. If you catch my drift.” He followed the remark with a boyish grin. Luelle got the cadence of his meaning only too well.

  She permitted herself a smile. His comforting presence made her want to close her eyes and fall and sleep in his arms.

  It would be nice to forget everything, and not see the nameless people coming into the hotel, wounded under the excuse of her name and status.

  Chapter Two

  In the dead of night, Evo walked with his older sister, and they basked in the gentle light of a full moon. Both of them wielded their guns, imbued with vanadium-tainted bullets and silencers. He preferred a Springfield XDM Compact, enjoying the increased round usage and accuracy it offered. Sometimes, he and his sister went to the shooting range to practise their accuracy, and it always turned into a murder-fest of paper, with numerous bullet holes peppering their targets.

  He talked with her, all the while daydreaming of Luelle Armanev. Those green irises cut into him like spring grass, heavy with the reminiscence of summer. Her voice was soft, measured, providing a sense of music into the air, and igniting a ball of desire tight in his belly. Already his lust-fuelled mind drifted to fantasies, sometimes sweet, sometimes obscene. It didn't matter that she belonged to another werewolf – she clearly hated his guts.

  Evo planned to kill Heigan and claim her properly for himself. If, of course, she liked him enough. He suspected she might not react well to being pin-balled out of one marriage and straight into another.

  I want her, he shivered, breathing in deep, fighting to control the besotted emotions infecting his brain. He wanted Luelle to look at him with love, to ha
ve her gasp beneath him as they shared body and soul together, perhaps with both of them consumed by passion. He wanted to grab her by the hair and yank her neck back, bite into it and screw her roughly.

  His sister caught some of the tension in his face, for she clapped him on the back and smirked. “Well, well, little brother. You're not by any chance thinking about Luelle, are you?”

  Evo grunted. “Perhaps. You smell different, by the way. I can't quite put my finger upon it.”

  “Must be all the sex I'm getting,” Frey responded, as she reached for a cigarette from her pocket, struck the lighter to it and lit up. Her hands trembled, however, belying something else under her nonchalant demeanour. “For real, though, I keep having this weird taste in my mouth, like someone's shoved a wad of pennies in it. Kinda feel like chain smoking just to forget about it.”

  “You don't think you're falling sick, are you?” Evo snapped out of thoughts of Luelle long enough to focus on his sister.

  “Not sure. We'll see.” She took a deep drag of her cigarette, watching the smoke furl out of her lungs. “Speaking of seeing – there's been some sightings not so far off from Sapareva Banya of a bunch of werewolves, numbers unknown, and it sounds like they know there's a sanctuary in this province. Just not where.”

  “Well then, we might need to move Luelle after all!” Evo exclaimed, concern spiking his system. There were only five werewolves in the hotel and four guards. Elinor certainly couldn't be expected to stay at the hotel when she had her people to organize for security and contacts in the upper mountains and the city regions. Evo didn't think, however, that their small hotel and the people at their command could cope with a small scale invasion – if any of them wielded guns. Especially Frey. For all of Frey's bravery and show of bravado, Evo knew that when it came to any sort of physical conflict, her fragile body would be no match for the savagery of a feral.

  Images of his beloved sister, torn apart from limb to limb pervaded his consciousness. He resisted the urge to retch. He also knew persuading Frey to get the hell out would greet him with a middle finger and an expletive, and a curse to mind his own business.

  Problem is, Evo thought wryly to himself, if she dies, I honestly don't know what I should do with my life. Everything that I am today is because of her. And that's the truth.

  It uplifted and depressed him in the same moment. Truth be told, he expected to forge a path of his own with Frey, perhaps one day be in charge of numerous hotels around the world for werewolves to take refuge in. and attach the Radev name to that.

  With the introduction of Luelle into his life, it changed everything. First seeing her as that battered husk shocked him to the soul. Werewolf injuries healed fast, and to have that many bruises and wounds suggested that she endured beatings for days and weeks at a time.

  Those bastards.

  His nose caught something in the air. It made him alert, even as his breath frosted in the cold night, puffing along with Frey's cigarette. “I smell a werewolf. Unfamiliar.”

  Frey casually put her hand onto her Taurus, still smoking away. “Retreat or inspect?”

  “Inspect, of course. Could be a scout,” Evo snarled. He briefly considered asking Frey to head back to the hotel. Eventually he settled on gesturing her to follow, and fingered his own small handgun. Proud, older werewolves considered guns scummy and weak, and whilst it was true that the metal itched uncomfortably in Evo's hands, it gave an edge over his kind when physical combat failed.

  The scent emanated from the central park, where a grandstand for outdoor theater and other entertainments stood, and a statue oversaw the hissing and banging of the geyser beneath, mixing the unpleasant scent of rotten eggs into gusts of wind.

  A spike of anticipation entered the unidentified werewolf's odor. Evo knew he didn't have much time, and instantly began transformation, his hair and bones twisting with ease under the light of a full moon. He ran as he did so, his gait widening, fingers stretching with claws. A snout growing out of his nose and mouth. The shift itself did something strange to his nervous system, dulling it as if a blanket had been thrown over his brain.

  Every single pain cell deadened during transition, which was also why attacking someone before they had fully wolfed out was dumb. The lack of pain somehow increased the amount of power a body possessed.

  His eyes blurred, before revealing a crystal-clear world before him, with every color sharp and distinct, with hundreds of hues in the darkness that his human-softened eyes could never pick up.

  The air whipped around him as hairs developed, and his voice turned into a low, vicious growl. The werewolf in front of him sensed the change, and with a screech, also began their change.

  Evo was fast, though, faster than anticipated, and by the time the werewolf started running, he lunged at them and brought them crashing to the ground.

  “Identify yourself!” He snarled. “You are in the territory of the Spirovas!”

  The werewolf barked something at him and clawed ferociously, paying no heed to the statement. Bloody scratches swathed over Evo's snout, and flashes of pain set in.

  He heard Frey running behind him, her trainers slapping along the ground. The werewolf momentarily hesitated at her odd scent.

  It was enough for Evo to pound his face in until his foe slammed into unconsciousness.

  Panting, Frey pulled up beside him, her gun cocked and ready for any unexpected shenanigans. Her chest heaved. She looked nauseous and dizzy as she said, “I'm clearly getting unfit nowadays. Couldn't even do that little sprint.”

  “It's okay. We got one,” Evo said, breathless and triumphant at the same time. “And I know a few people who might be interested in interrogating him for information.”

  Unconscious, the werewolf melted back into his human form, unveiling a grizzled, gray haired man in tattered, unwashed clothing. His filthy hair matted and snarled around his ears, and a cloud of beard sprouted from his chin.

  “He's one of the invaders, right?”

  “Got to be,” Evo answered. “I think he spoke Russian. You know, let's check his belongings.”

  Curious, the siblings rifled through the werewolf's pockets. The only thing they found of note was an old box with a coat of arms.

  Frey picked it up and stared at the engraving on the golden surface, before popping it open. Inside lay a large collection of teeth. Frey's brow furrowed, confused at the selection offered. Evo, however, shivered.

  “Looks like a nasty piece of work.”

  Frey closed the box and replaced it. “Well. Time to start dragging him, I guess.”

  Chapter Three

  “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Elinor said. Gathered in the small room where the captured werewolf was tied to a chair, Luelle, Evo, Frey, Elinor and Yanus observed him. For obvious reasons, Arina and Markus had been shoved aside in matters.

  The werewolf in question leered at them, his yellow eyes glinting in smug triumph. It made Luelle want to punch him in the mouth, just to wipe off that expression. She badly wanted Arina to come in here and blast his brains out, because seeing him here in person convinced her of his evil. He was practically saturated in it.

  She examined Evo in concern, noting some scratches to his dark cheeks, and a hardness in his icy blue eyes. Evo or Frey didn't have any history with this creature, so why did they look at him with such hatred?

  “Why, it's like none of you have seen a werewolf before,” Ricten said, stretching his yellowed teeth into a rancid grin. “My dear niece. It has been too long since I've set eyes upon you.” He nodded toward Elinor, who let out a tiny hiss. Her dark blue eyes crinkled into slits.

  “You realize we've put an order out to find you and kill you, right? Since that's the reason you've been skulking in the shadows for all these years like a pitiful dog.”

  “Oh. Not in the shadows. I've been in Russia. Getting to know some of the locals there.”

  “What do you want?” Yanus said. Ricten ignored him.

  “I will only
talk to my niece, as she is alpha. The rest of you are dirt beneath my shoes. Especially you, human filth,” he snarled at Frey, who flexed her muscles. Her right hand twitched to her Taurus.

  “You will speak to all of us if demanded,” Elinor said.

  Ricten merely smirked, running his tongue over his lips. “Well, if she stays, I don't mind, as long as I get a juicy bite out of her soft flesh. You know, I've never tasted a darkie before. I imagine they'll be quite cooked, don't you?”

  “Ugh,” Frey said, taking deep, self-controlled breaths. “This fucking piece of slime.”

  “Won't you stay with me a little while, pig? Come a little close, so I may taste you for myself...”

  “Stop this,” Elinor barked, “or we'll kill you on the spot. No chance to plead.”

  “Well, do it. Then you can't have the information you'll so desperately require from me. The filth leaves. Now,” Ricten snarled. His expression brooked no compromise, no chance to say otherwise. His eyes gleamed manically.

  Frey, shaking in incandescent rage, left the room in silence, looking as if she was biting her tongue. Yanus followed after her, leaving just Elinor, Evo and Luelle.

  “I smell another one. I recognize that scent. The little girl that got away so many years ago, right? Here?” He began giggling, rocking back and forth in the chair, the bindings holding him tight. “Oh, I've been wanting that one for a while! Human loving whelps, Markus and the Lubanov, I punished them so hard! I wonder if they remember?” The hysterical giggling slipped from his mouth, making all three werewolves glance at each other in alarm.

  He's mad, Luelle thought. Cracked. The hint of madness scared even the most stolid of werewolves. No one wanted to associate with insanity.

  The grime under Ricten's nails, the sunken, haggard face that merged with his tangled beard, and the mud-stained clothes all indicated a life lived without luxury.

  “Will you let her in to see me? I've been wanting to meet her for a while...”

 

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