Darkness & Lies: A Brotherhood Novel (#1)

by Brandi Salazar

  Appearing through a thick line of trees, dressed in head to toe fur, his face covered in shadows, the male held his riffle at the ready as he approached Erias with caution.

  Kneeling down beside him, the man glanced between the wound and the landscape as he peeled back the parka that covered Erias’s midsection and studied the wounds.

  “I have a cabin about a mile back. We have food and drink and can tend to your wounds there.”

  Erias was about to argue with him, but wasn’t given the chance. Hauling him up by the arm, the man gave him a stern look and pointed up at the star covered sky to a full moon that was blood red.

  “The gods are displeased and the night is not on our side. We mustn’t stay out here long. The demon will return soon.”

  Erias was shocked that the man had known what it was, but then he reminded himself; people full of superstition and talk of demons ran rampant through these parts. Talk of fairies and demons around the dinner table wasn’t an uncommon practice.

  It was a long trek back given his condition, but Erias knew better than any that it would heal. All he needed was to get clean and get a solid night’s rest, and he would be as good as new by morning.

  This was not the worst he’d had. Not by a long shot.

  The cabin was small, rustic. It was clear that it had been put together with care by someone very knowledgeable. From the precise placement of the logs and the mud packed into the spaces in between; he knew it was airtight. Hunching down to clear the low threshold, the men stepped inside.

  Greeted by warmth, Erias soaked in his surroundings. The room was deceptively larger than the outside of the building had hinted at and boasted a roaring fireplace with a large stone hearth. An oversized wood slab table sat in the center of the room and held a bowl of ripened apples, a delicacy this time of year, and a definite sign of a female’s touch no doubt.

  The kitchen area was sparse, but then they always were. With a small table for cooking and a few cabinets to hold their goods, there was a chair and a crock and that was about it.

  “Hang your coat and hat by the fireplace. Leave your boots by the door.” The man did the same then disappeared behind a door in the far corner of the room.

  Erias did as he was told, and just as he was hanging the last of his gear over the hearth, a woman with long red hair, pale skin and ruddy cheeks appeared in the doorway.

  Not sure what to do, Erias just stood there. He hadn’t been around people in a while. Having kept to the mountains for the last hundred years or so, he was a little out of practice.

  Even so, he knew enough to know that a man did not so much as look at another man’s woman crosswise, unless he planned to be six feet under by morning. And at the rate his life was going, that didn’t sound like too bad an idea.

  He wouldn’t do anything to make the man mad, though. He had been kind enough to offer him food and shelter for the night so that meant he was good people, and he wouldn’t disrespect him that way.

  His mother had raised him better.

  Emerging from the same room just moments later, the man crossed the room holding a small glass vile and a scrap of clean white linen.

  He motioned to one of the chairs at the dining table. “Sit.”

  He did. In just his pants, Erias ignored the shooting pain caused by the movement, and eased back. “My name is Erias.” He grimaced when the elixir was dabbed onto his broken skin.

  “Vanguard,” the man grunted. Focusing on tending the wounds, he didn’t say another word as he worked.

  His woman flitted about the kitchen cutting potatoes and meat and looked to be rolling out dough for a pie of some sort. He hadn’t been around a woman in so long he had forgotten how one looked in this type of setting. It always amazed him how much they could do and how fast. If only they could harness that energy, the world would be a much different place.

  She glanced up at him as if she could feel him watching her. Plain, and not exceptionally attractive, she smiled a shy smile that brightened her face and lent her a subtle beauty, and went back to her work.

  “Are the two of you married?” Erias asked.

  Vanguard eyed him suspiciously, then swiped the cloth across his cut causing Erias to hiss at the pain. “We married last spring.”

  By his tone, Erias knew he had taken his inquiry wrong. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he assured him. “I was just wondering how the two of you came to be here. You’re pretty far from town.”

  “Look,” Vanguard said, irritated. “We are not helpless here. We take good care about who we bring into our home. Don’t make me regret helping you.”

  “I’m not here to harm anyone,” Erias said, aghast. “I’m just asking a few questions.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s kind of odd to be sitting here half naked with a woman cooking me dinner and another male putting his hands on me.”

  Vanguard looked to his wife briefly. “I can see your reasoning, but know this, if any harm befalls my beloved, you will pay with your life. I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

  “Duly noted.”

  The woman was just setting the table when Vanguard finished up. Erias lifted his arms, so he could wrap the clean cloth around him.

  Once finished, Vanguard rose to his feet and did the most uncharacteristic thing he had seen a man do since his father more than six hundred years ago.

  He went into the kitchen, placed a tender kiss to his wife’s lips, then started helping her carry the rest of the dinner out to the table.

  It was something he had always done too, back when he actually had a life. It made him ache with longing at all he had lost, and yet it filled him with hope that one day he might experience such a thing again. It was so trivial and mundane an action, and he’d always taken it for granted. Now he just hoped for another chance at it.

  They ate a dinner of steak and potatoes with a small apple pie. It was quaint, but he couldn’t have asked for better company or a better meal.

  When they were finished, Erias watched as Vanguard helped his wife clear the table, refusing to let him help. They had no idea that his injuries were already well on their way to mending. In fact, there was just a tremendous ache coming from the wound site, but it had sealed shut some time ago.

  They set him up in a room built on to the back of the cabin. “Three rooms,” Erias commented, looking about the small spartan room appreciatively as Vanguard held out a woolen blanket. “Impressive.”

  During these times, to have one room as large as the one they ate in meant to be well off. To have three meant they were wealthy.

  “Nothing has come to us easy. Since I was a lad, I have been chopping wood and hunting the land. When Sierra’s parents were slaughtered during a raid on her village, she was left with a modicum of wealth.”

  The thing was, as Erias knew well, a woman couldn’t hold property or have money without a man to control it. Was that why they had married?

  He pointed to a small basin in the corner. “There’s the crapper. Rest well.”

  And with that, he left Erias alone to face his own demons.

  The morning came on him fast. Erias dressed quickly in his clothes that had dried overnight and was just sneaking out the door when he heard Vanguard enter the room.

  “Leaving so soon?” he asked, moving to the fireplace to add some fresh wood to the pile.

  “I have to be going,” he said, turning to face his host.

  Vanguard nodded. “You don’t look to be in any pain. May I see the wound before you go?”

  Erias heard the odd note in his voice but couldn’t place its meaning. He couldn’t let him see the wound; however, because all that was left of it were three red lines where the Coli’s talons had dug in.

  “I should be going,” he repeated. He moved to leave but Vanguard was fast, and he was blocking his path in an instant.

  “I checked on you last night,” he said meaningfully.

  The men eyed each other with quiet disdain. Erias had
been out cold last night. He hadn’t slept that hard in quite some time, but he was injured. It would figure that the first time that he did something this would happen.

  The question was; how much had he seen?

  Trying to deflect from the situation, Erias defaulted to his usual sarcastic attitude. “What were you doing in my room last night? Coping a feel?”

  Vanguard wasn’t amused in the least. “My home, my room,” he sneered. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he stared Erias straight in the eyes. “What are you?”

  That had been the one time Erias hadn’t been able to run from what he was. As it turned out, Vanguard had come from a long line of shamans and was very close to the preternatural world. Nothing he told him surprised him all that much, and he was very accepting of his condition.

  On that cold winter’s morning, they formed a sort of alliance. Erias would watch over his and Vanguard would keep a door open for him, so long as he needed his help. They had become so close that their bond of friendship lasted through the generations.

  His was the only connection to the world that he had, and Erias kept his love for the family hidden so no harm would ever befall them.

  He looked around the forest edge to be sure no one was watching before knocking on the steel door. A dark-haired boy around the age of seventeen wearing a soiled apron answered.

  “Tommy.” Erias tilted his head in greeting. “I need passage to my room.”

  “Got kicked out again, huh?” Tommy laughed, opening the door wider.

  “Something like that.” Erias clapped him on the shoulder and passed by him, heading for a set of stairs in the corner.

  “Something wrong with your poufy thing?” Tommy flexed his fingers at him in a mock explosion.

  “You remember the agreement?” he asked, ignoring his poor attempt at miming.

  “Yeah, yeah, never saw anything, never heard anything. My lips, eyes, and ears are sealed.” He held out his hand. “Forgetting something?” When Erias just stared blankly back at him, Tommy huffed and rolled his eyes. “My silence comes at a price. Jeez, someone’s getting old,” he chided.

  Erias pulled out his wallet and peeled off a ten. Tommy cocked a brow. He pulled off another ten and laid it down on top of the other one. Shifting his weight, Tommy jutted out his hip and tapped his foot like Erias had seen only women do when they were truly annoyed with him. Except Tommy’s annoyance was more playful than the usual rip–your–balls–off–and–shove–them–down–your–throat annoyance.

  Pulling a fifty off, Erias slapped it on top of the tens and raised his own brow. “That’s where I draw the line you greedy bastard.”

  “Cool.” Tommy grinned widely. “Got me a hot date tonight.”

  Erias shook his head. “With who, Jack the Ass Crack?” Jack was a kid about his age who wore more make–up than a Geisha call girl and was severely overweight. Known to be a raging flamer, he had his eyes set on Tommy, and it was forever a sore spot Erias liked to pick at.

  “I’ll be sure to tell Michelle you said that,” Tommy said good-naturedly.

  Erias coughed a laugh. “Michelle? Big breasts, long legs, easy lay, Michelle?”

  “Is there any other?”

  Erias punched him in the shoulder, knocking Tommy back a few feet. “Damn, E! Take it easy with that shit. You know I bruise easy.” Tommy rubbed at his shoulder.

  Eris pulled out another bill and handed it to him.

  “A hundred bucks!” Tommy said excitedly, completely recovered from the blow. “What’s that for?”

  “Just doing my part. Make me proud, son.” He started heading for the stairs again. “And put some weight on, you look like an emaciated cheerleader.”

  “And you’re the father I never wanted, Erias. I hope you know that,” Tommy called after him.

  Chapter 18

  “I checked her room. I don’t think she’s slept there at all.” Hadley chewed her nails nervously.

  Cheyenne had been MIA for days. She hadn’t answered their texts, and she wasn’t answering her phone. And for good reason. It was still sitting on the table next to the bed inside her room when she went in to check on her. “It’s like she’s vanished into thin air.”

  “People don’t just vanish.” Harold was scrolling through Cheyenne’s cell phone looking for any recent numbers she may have called hoping for a clue as to where she could be. The alternative was just too horrible to bear.

  “Yeah, they go missing,” Tim chimed in. “Usually they do it on purpose. They want to be lost.”

  “So what are you saying exactly”—Cathy turned on him—“that Cheyenne just ran away? Left everything behind without so much as a see ya later?”

  Tim frowned. “It’s a possibility. Women do it all the time. Pressures of family and work, they just can’t take it, so they start over.”

  Cathy’s face turned red. “And what does Chy have to run away from? She has no life, Tim!”

  “Maybe that’s why she ran away,” Tabitha said from the couch where she was applying a fresh coat of blue lacquer to her nails. “I know I would if my life was all about research and discovery. I swear the girl lives in the lab.”

  Kris threw a throw pillow at her, slopping nail polish all over her brand new white satin blouse.

  “Hey, you jerk!” she screeched. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

  “Has anyone even considered the last time they saw Cheyenne?” He looked around the room taking in their blank expressions. “Have you? Well, let me refresh your memory. The last time we saw Cheyenne was when she was pleading with us to hear her. To believe her.”

  “Oh shit, you don’t think…” Harold broke off, too afraid to admit that one of theirs might have been in trouble, and he was too shortsighted to see a call for help for what it was.

  Cathy fidgeted in her seat, worry etching lines across her forehead. “Erias wouldn’t do that,” she said vehemently. “I know how to read people, and he seemed like really a nice guy. He wouldn’t hurt her.”

  Tabitha, scrubbing at her shirt, gave a rude snort. “Oh, yeah, right. That man has pissed off written across his forehead in big bold letters. No, scratch that. He has the I–will–beat–the–living–shit–out–of–you, eat–your–flesh, and–pick–my–teeth–with–your–bones kind of vibe. He totally killed her.”

  Kris lunged for her, ready to rip her head off her stumpy shoulders, but Tim was right there, holding him back with the help of Harold.

  “You are such a bitch!” Kris screamed at her, spittle flying. “How can you be so cold? How can you stand here and say that she’s dead like you’re making a pizza order?”

  “Let’s just calm down,” Tim said, trying to push him back to sit. “Tensions are too high right now. We need to focus on finding Cheyenne, not tearing each other’s throats out.”

  A clear shot, that’s all he needed. Kris stared at Tabitha as the others tried to figure out what to do next. He wanted to kill the woman. She was a narcissistic pain in the ass and when he really looked at her, he couldn’t understand why he had ever slept with her.

  She looked good in a pair of jeans and even better out of them, but there was no substance. She couldn’t hold a conversation to save her life, and she was as shallow as a baby pool during a drought.

  It disgusted him to know that he had stooped so low, but as he looked back over his escapades, he realized he had been fishing in that pond for some time. It was no wonder Cheyenne never thought he was good enough to give herself to. Was he any better than the women he took to bed?

  Well, yeah, he was, but he definitely wasn’t respecting himself this morning.

  “I don’t know where she is, but I think I know who might,” Kris said, interrupting their chattering. Leading the way, Kris headed straight for Erias’s room like a man possessed.

  Behr didn’t bother looking when he felt the air stir behind him. He always knew when she was there. Hers was a distinct aura of power and malevolence.

  “Took you long
enough,” he growled hating that she’d left him here in all his glory while she gallivanted after what really got her jollies off.

  “You know the rules, my love.” Pressing herself into his back, Persephone ran her fingers along the long corded muscles of his arms.

  He was so strong, one of her fiercest warriors. His body was a masterpiece. No matter how hard he tried to come off, he had a soft heart, and she loved the way he looked at her.

  Sure, he tried to put off that he hated her guts. Shooed her away whenever she came around, but it was there in his eyes. He wanted her.

  They all did.

  But for all the perfection, he was no Erias. No one could measure up to him. Erias was fierce, brutal, and reckless. He had no love in his heart, and that’s just the way she liked them. Of course, that meant that he was really hard to get.

  He hated everything about her. That she could sense. And it was no lie. He wasn’t just covering up for some warm and fuzzies like Behr was. He really hated her.

  That alone piqued her interest. She loved a good chase. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy her men, though. Even though she had to be really careful about how far she took her play and where. Angel was fiercely loyal and expected no less from her.

  He was no fun.

  “I expect you made good use of your time here while I was away?” She kissed the warm skin of his shoulder, paying special attention to the highly stylized blue filigree tattoo he had branded there.

  “Oh sure, it was great fun being trapped in a place that I can’t even conjure clothes in. Let me tell you how I spent my time. First, I started by standing here. Then, deciding I liked it so much, I stood some more. When I got bored, I occupied myself by standing some more. And when I got sick and damn tired of waiting for you to come back and release me, I stood some more.”

  She really didn’t care for his attitude, but that was just who Behr was. She decided to shrug it off as a character flaw of his.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that I talked to your friend.” She traced the intricate pattern from his shoulder down to his elbow. “You were right; he was with that vile creature.”