Eire moved toward the woman she loved more than life itself, and she touched her face. Cold. Belthea Donovan’s face was so cold. Unmoving. Stone. Her still body did not suddenly wake. Her nonexistent breath did not suddenly revive.
The girl from two minutes earlier, who had ridden the wind at her brother’s back, wanted to cry and scream and yell at the world for the injustice of this moment, but the new part of her was awakening, and her father stood, his back to her as though she was weak. As though she could do nothing. As though she were human.
Her father didn’t know that vengeance whispered in her blood like a living thing. He didn’t know that anger boiled beneath the surface. She might be young, but her blood was ancient and full of learned lessons. He should have looked at her face instead of licking the blood and other unknown liquids from his fingers as he smiled, not a care in the world.
Eire felt a power settle into her body as her soul clicked into existence. She felt the substance of her power as it stretched her, changed her, moved within her, and made her new like a fire cleansing the earth around it.
Except she wasn’t earth and fire. She was Stone and Sword. She was the healing power and the cleansing anger of the minerals found in the hidden mountains and waters of the earth. But she was also steel and poison, just like her ancestors before her.
She let both loose and saw that she and her father were surrounded by light. Bright lights and more colors than she’d even known existed. The light swirled around them in a kaleidoscope and her love for her mother, and her anger only fueled their power as they touched his skin. And his scream was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard as the light from her Stone caressed his skin in a lullaby of death, an ode he deserved to suffer. Her knives came out, unsheathed, and she let their length slide out of her hands and reform her nails from human-like connective tissue to the strong, abnormally long blades of poisonous metal that she knew inherently would destroy any being they touched.
She felt her brothers at her back, but they couldn’t come into her circle. She was pure power, stronger than anyone in this room, and she had what the goddess, Titania, had called the gift of Stone in Eire’s dreams. Her brother’s might not know what her power was, but Eire did. She would not give her father the satisfaction of escaping that rare gift, of understanding just who he had crossed.
No, he’d feel her Stone, but she would definitely enjoy ending him with her knives when all was said and done. She crouched down and let her claws scour the floor around her, marking this as her kill. The blood rushing to her ears kept her from hearing her brothers, but she wanted them to know this was hers. This was her vengeance.
Her father’s fury rose by the second, and she saw his own claws unsheathed. She felt a punch at her shield and knew her brothers were trying to protect her, but she’d never need their protection again. Her nightmare died tonight. Her nightmare ended here.
She used the strength of her claws, which she’d dug into the concrete floor, and she flipped herself over and aimed a kick at her father’s form, which was blurred by the green tinge over her eyes. The kick landed squarely in his center and he flew backward, his body crashing through the glass of the bedroom window and landing on the roof. She quickly exited the window, not leaving him even a second of recovery, and her claws slashed across his midsection. She clawed and clawed and clawed until his middle was nothing but torn up muscle, ligament, and stomach viscera. Then she sat in the blood around her and she screamed. An awful, gut-wrenching scream that reached out to those around her and brought her brothers to their knees. She felt the tears on her cheeks as her screams died, and she curled in on herself and lay in the blood of her father—
Eire felt a touch on her shoulder, but she was still in the dream. She was still in the moment when she’d torn her father to shreds and had become the Stone and Sword bitch that fate had chosen for her since birth. The goddess had warned her of that fate in her dreams, had shown Eire how her change would occur. It hadn’t just been Damon’s look that afternoon that had told her the truth.
After her change, her brother, Loch, had pulled her in tightly to his chest and let her cry, covered in blood and other bodily fluids as she’d mourned the loss of her mother, but also the death of her innocence. She’d changed, and her change had been typical of an Other. Bloody. Brutal. In Death.
She realized slowly that she was no longer dreaming, and that it was not Loch holding her but the wolf, Nicky, who’d invited her into his home. She tried to pull back, but her movement was half-hearted. It had been years since she’d dreamed of that day, of her change.
Before going to live with her grandmother, Nessa, she’d dreamt of that day over and over again for weeks, but her grandmother had quickly beaten the grief and fear out of her. Her grandmother had also quickly become her worst nightmare yet and had made her the Enforcer, the tough as nails, but ultimately precise weapon she was today. At the mercy of Nessa’s temper and whims, Eire had tamed her gift of Stone and built up her Sword abilities.
Eire had ignored the goddess’ warnings that her Sword gift was not strong enough to kill her father. Vengeance had been her only comfort in that moment. Still was. And Titania’s dreams had abandoned her years ago at a time when she’d needed them the most, at a time when she could have used some guidance, some saving. But she was strong now, and she didn’t need guidance and saving anymore.
She was her own savior. Her grandmother had made sure of that, had in fact inadvertently made Eire into the perfect weapon to truly kill her father the next time she faced him.
She moved away from the comforting touch slowly, pulling her arms away from his body, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. Tears. Fuck, she’d been crying.
“You good?” the wolf asked and she hated so much that a stranger was asking her if she was okay. She was so not okay, but she would be.
“Fine,” she said, and her voice wavered. She imagined the ice forming around her and she looked into his warm brown eyes, this time telling herself they meant nothing. “I’m good, wolf.” Her reply was her trademark cold as she stood up from the bed.
“Good,” the wolf said. He stood, but before he walked past her, he gave her shoulder a squeeze as though he couldn’t help the action. Fucking mammals didn’t know what invasion of space was, but she didn’t say anything because, just as before, his touch was anything but unpleasant.
Each time she felt that calming touch, she craved it more. Like a drug. Like she was an addict who was on the verge of finding her fated addiction. And those thoughts, more than anything else, were what drove her out of the yurt.
She threw on her black jeans, black tank top, and black, ankle-high leather combat boots. Yep. She totally dug an ensemble of black. She didn’t do the white as snow shit and she avoided color whenever fucking possible. She had enough of the goddamned mumbo jumbo floating around inside of her and she didn’t want to give that part of her any ammunition or encouragement.
So, black it was.
The only concession she made was her green leather jacket. Yeah, other than black, she’d wear the hell out green. It clashed with her bright green eyes and scared the shit out of the perps she ended up in an alley with. She smiled. Hell, she wasn’t just a cold, hard bitch. She was fucking badass, and she loved that about herself.
The sun was lowering in the sky, meaning it was probably about 4:00 pm, so she needed to hurry and get her shit together. At least she’d gotten a few hours of useful sleep, but her energy was waning, and the number one thing on her to-do list was to get some goddamned human blood. Only one place to get it, and that was in town.
Shit, she didn’t have her Camaro. Damn old ass hunk of junk gave her more trouble than it was worth most days, but being without it sucked ass. She’d just have to jog it. She’d still make the almost ten miles into town in less than an hour, but damn it, she’d be cutting it close.
Couldn’t be helped. She needed to be at the top of her game if she was going to be spilling her guts tha
t night.
But she’d go prepared and stronger than anyone else there. She’d put her shields back in place. She’d get some human blood. And she’d be copacetic before their meeting tonight.
Because in her earlier years, Eire might have struggled with her ice, but the queen of Sword and Stone no longer had that issue. No. Eire had finally become exactly who she needed to be to survive forever with her father’s heritage rattling around in her: a cold, hard bitch.
Nicky stuck some kindling on the fire and watched as the flames built bit by bit. His breath came out in a pant of fog and he followed the progress of that fog, enjoying the cleaning cold. Alexia and Devon were inside their trailer grabbing something to eat and Matt and Gemini were cleaning up from their long workday. But for a few minutes, it was just Nicky sitting near the fire pit. In the quiet of this community. In a place where he found a greater solace than even his yurt at the tail end of the mountain offered.
The sun set as he sat and continued adding scraps and wood to fuel their source of heat. There weren’t many sounds now that the cold had hit. No birds chirping, no crickets, no scurrying squirrels high in the trees. There was just the howl of the wind and he let that silence rejuvenate his mind and his soul as he waited, his brown construction boots resting on a log and his chest bared to the cold because there was no one around to scold him for being near naked.
Waited for what, he knew. Not ‘what’…who. Eire Donovan was an enigma wrapped in a million layers of mystery, and his face twisted at the reminder that much of that mystery was dark and possibly dangerous. But damn if he didn’t have this strange desire to unwrap all of layers, good and bad.
He mulled over the thought, and what worried him more than anything was that he wasn’t worried. Not one iota. Fuck, he thought, but he stayed in his spot even as he heard Gem and Matt walk his way.
“Hey, Nicky!” Gem said, and he smiled, but kept his eyes closed, lifting his chin in greeting. He heard a grunt from Matt and they sat in silence.
Matt worked maintenance at Montville University and Gem had in fact come to town the autumn after Marilyn Anderson’s death when she discovered she’d inherited the travel agency in town from the deceased wife of Loren Anderson. She’d opened it as a café and renamed it, Bean Me Up, Butterscotch, which was unique to say the least. Just like Gemini herself. The human woman had come to town with a tough past and a desire for a new start. Not uncommon. Her and Matt’s story was, though. And so was Gem. The woman was one of the humans Nicky could actually stand, and that was saying a lot.
He opened his eyes and sat up a bit straighter when he felt the ever-present itch at his spine retreat, because he knew what the lack of that restlessness meant.
She walked in, Damon and her friend, Kieran, at her side. Danny trailed not far behind, but Nicky only had eyes for the woman bringing up the front of the group. He looked Eire over, checking for any signs that she was in pain, but she seemed stronger. Her pallor still suggested she needed to feed, but Nicky hoped she’d at least been able to get something to eat the past couple hours.
He cracked his knuckles on his right hand and reached up to touch the scar on his chin, but he stopped himself and took a long, deep breath that he knew Matt and Gem didn’t miss. His jaw tightened and he closed his eyes before turning and looking at the fire. Shit. This woman. He’d known her less than a day, and she was already pushing all his buttons.
Alexia and Devon came out of their trailer, and as everyone said their obligatory hellos, the couple sat down next to Nicky again as he ran his hand through his hair. Their presence calmed a part of him. But not enough.
He’d snuck out that afternoon for a run. His restlessness had abated with Eire’s presence, yes, but a new restlessness had formed. There were too many questions. The most important of which was how the hell an Other could be drawing the emotions he was feeling out of him. He could feel the roiling, the mixture of peace and the need to connect. He could also sense that she was just as much affected.
There were even times when he’d wanted to offer her comfort, like after her nightmare. He’d heard her screams, and then he’d heard the soft crying that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, and he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d needed to be there for her, but she was so incredibly independent, she’d picked up the pieces quickly. He had to admire that.
In less than twenty-four hours, however, he had experienced feelings he’d never felt before, and he clenched his fist as he looked at the fire because the two words that kept entering his mind were anything but normal, impossible in fact. Fated mate.
Goddamnit. Nicky was Clan. And Eire was Other. Two things that didn’t mix.
He looked to the big bear and Alexia sitting next to him. So much in this world was never as they expected. Why should Nicky Arviso, a freak among the Clans, be any different than his first love?
Damon walked to the log near Gem and Matt and sat down, giving Gem’s chin a chuck. Nicky didn’t miss the confused and slightly hurt look Eire sent their way, but she quickly righted her expression. Kieran nodded toward a log Nicky had pulled in earlier to the right of the fire, but Eire stayed standing again, and Danny sat down instead next to the Trow. Ben was hiding out in his double-wide, and Carrie was missing as usual.
He saw Danny glance toward the Taryn woman’s cabin before he looked back at the fire and laughed at something Kieran said. But there was a distance there that worried Nicky, that made him want to broach that barrier he and Danny had both put between them. They didn’t talk about Cam. They didn’t talk about Carrie. They talked about cases and their time in the military and the shit they had to deal with in this world, and for the most part, Nicky was good with that. But not if it was weighing on Danny the way it had been. Between his closed off attitude after spending time at Trappe’s and his constant visits to Carrie’s cabin, Nicky wondered when his partner would crack. Not if. When. After this case, it was time for him and Danny to talk about what the hell was going on.
“I call our meeting to order,” Alexia said from his side, and Nicky refocused before chuckling. A few of the others, including Gem joined in.
“Always wanted to do that, huh, Queen Bee?” Gem asked, her brown eyes brightening as she grinned unrepentantly.
“Fuck you, Gem,” Alexia said, but there was no heat to her comment. And then, “Yeah.” She threw Gemini a conspiratorial look. “I really always have.” The two laughed and the tension was broken. That was probably a good thing because there were a lot of tough personalities around the fire pit tonight.
“What do you know?” Damon asked, without preamble as he turned to Danny.
Danny looked to Alexia first and then to Nicky. Nicky nodded that it was okay to continue and Danny ran his hand through his dark brown hair.
“What we’ve got is a clearing covered in Other pieces with very little else – at least from a human investigative perspective.” He took out his notepad from earlier, and shared with the group the evidence he found including the pictograms and the puddle of water–
“The temporal break,” Eire said, correcting his use of the word ‘puddle.’ Nicky shook his head at her overly analytical tone, but quickly grew worried when he saw Matt tense at the term.
“Sure, ice queen, that portal to the veil you were talking about…that temporal thing,” Danny said dismissively before returning to his notes, having completely missed the glare Eire sent his way. Nicky knew Danny, and what he knew of his partner was that he never dismissed important clues, but he did like to ruffle feathers. Nicky saw Gem cover her mouth, and he was hard pressed to hide his own grin despite his worry. He watched Matt carefully, ready for the impulsive Luna’s next reaction. “Other than wondering what the fuck a portal to a veil is and well everything else, that’s all I’ve got.”
“How about you?” Damon asked Nicky. “Everyone here says you’ve got the best nose.” Well, that was news to him, that they knew how truly unique his senses were. “What did you smell?”
&
nbsp; “Like I said last night, I smelled what everyone else did.” He paused, remembering his morning run. “But there was something strange in the scent… I’ve never smelled anything like the creature in that woods—”
“Sort of floral?” Damon asked, cutting him off.
Nicky nodded, trying to recall the exact scent. The dust scent had thrown him off.
“We already knew, but that just confirms it,” Damon continued looking to the group. “I don’t know about the pictograms. I’ll have to have our brother Zeke look into that, but we’re definitely dealing with the Fae.” Nicky didn’t miss Matt’s reaction this time. He stood abruptly from the log and paced the clearing, lost in thought. Unfortunately, Matt had the quickest temper of the bunch. His first month in these mountains, he and Ben spent getting into all out fights that still made Alexia a little watchful.
“Clan Histories suggest the Fae are rare and mostly stick to the Veil…” Devon said, but rubbed his hand along his neck. They all knew that their world wasn’t as clear-cut as many of the Clan had always thought. Others had always known that. Nicky had always known that fact as well. But the Clans…well, they were a little slow on the draw when it came to change. “Fuck, just continue. Who are the Fae? Because they’ve always been sort of a myth to the majority of us.”
The crowd was quiet. Not even Damon or Eire spoke up. Instead, the thirty-nine-year-old Luna stopped his pacing and came back to the circle, clearing his throat, and garnering the attention of everyone else. “Fae aren’t the fairies the humans write stories about,” he said carefully.
Rage Against the Devil (Wild Beasts Series Book 2) Page 9