Whispered Bonds

by Tally Adams

  He became aware the thrust of her breasts were separated from the wall of his chest by a hairsbreadth, and each heaving breath she took increased the temptation to feel them pressed against him. Unbeknownst to him, his penetrating blue eyes shifted; the color seeming to warm and melt with an inner heat. He stepped away, all anger gone, a seductive grin in place. "Fear is not the emotion I want to inspire in you," he said, and his voice was now soft as velvet.

  Lyric did take a step back then, having been unprepared for the sudden change in him. She took too long to say, "You don't inspire that emotion in me, either."

  Paoli's grin widened. "Shall we see if I can manage to change that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

  Lyric's heart seemed to be beating double-time. She swallowed and opened her mouth, but no words came out. She cleared her throat and shook her head. "That won't be necessary," she said stiffly.

  Paoli chuckled. "Coward."

  Lyric's temper began to rise again; which was good, because anger was more productive in this particular situation than awkwardness. "It's not cowardice," she said. "It's disinterest."

  His smile became tight at the corners. "Why don't we just see how 'disinterested' you really are?" he asked, stepping toward her again.

  Just then, the door to her room burst open and Empusa cheerfully called, "Time to go, you two," into the charged atmosphere.

  Lyric released a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding and practically flew through the door and into the car with Emily, slamming and locking not only her door, but the other passenger door for good measure. She heard Paoli's deep laughter as he stepped into the other car.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Welcome back," Emily said, turning in her seat to watch Lyric's antics.

  "We really need to start locking those doors," William said dryly, pulling the car into gear to head toward the highway.

  Lyric smiled embarrassedly at Emily and scowled at William, but didn't reply. Too many thoughts and emotions were flooding her to give much thought to his displeasure. This was a seriously concerning situation. Her response to Paoli was not conducive to proving she wasn't going to be stuck with him forever. If anything, it was quite the opposite.

  Most worrisome was, she couldn't help wondering what would have happened if Empusa hadn't interfered. It was an alarming thing to consider. She knew he'd never force himself on her—though how she knew it with absolute certainty was a mystery—but her reaction to him left her in doubt her resistance would have held up for long. Or at all.

  She made a show of dropping her phone into the pocket on the door in the hopes of distracting Emily, who was still watching her with amusement. At least she could prove she'd paid attention to some of William's speech, even if that was the only thing she'd heard, thanks to Paoli, blast him! Undoubtedly, there was plenty of other information she should have listened to in that discussion, but she'd missed it all.

  The ride wasn't overly long, less than half an hour by her estimation. She was grateful for every mile they traveled, though, because the closer they got to their destination, the more her anxiety grew about where they were headed; which meant Paoli was pushed further and further from her mind while another worry got to take precedence.

  Before she knew it, she found herself standing uncomfortably between Emily and Empusa, trying to ignore the glare Paoli was giving her from Empusa's other side as her heart banged against her ribs in anticipation of the werewolves they were waiting for.

  At any minute, the door in front of them would open and their little group would meet with the local werewolf leader: The alpha of this part of Louisiana. After her last experience with werewolves, it seemed foolhardy in the extreme to go seeking them out. Yet, here she was, waiting to come face-to-face with yet another one. She wondered if she hadn't become just plain suicidal.

  She didn't think she could bear any more stress at the moment; not after the earlier confrontation with Paoli and his insistence that she belonged to him. Which was why she stepped between Emily and Empusa instead of taking the hand he extended toward her when they entered the little room. She was her own person and would make her own decisions. And right now, she chose to ignore him.

  Her annoyance with Paoli faded, however, when the fateful door before them opened to reveal a very large, very intimidating man with shoulder-length black hair and a thin scar that ran the length of his face. He had a broad build; clearly well-muscled, and his left arm was tattooed all the way from his wrist to the sleeve of the black tee-shirt he wore. His face was set in a serious expression, and there was an aura of danger about him.

  Lyric's heart seemed to stop, and she had to fight to keep from taking a step back.

  She had no trouble at all picturing him as a werewolf. Or a killer.

  To complete the image, three other men stood just behind him, looking like ideal support for a confrontation. For one wild moment, she imagined what would happen if the group attacked them, and silently prayed it didn't come to that. Then, Empusa broke the tension.

  "Jonathon," he greeted, stepping forward to clasp hands with the other man. "Thank you for meeting with us."

  The alpha, Jonathon, shook Empusa's hand with a smile and gave him a manly clap on the back. "With everything going on right now, I figured it was important," he said, and his eyes skimmed across them all with obvious interest.

  Empusa quickly made introductions, and Jonathon nodded politely to everyone in acknowledgement.

  "I confess, I'd hoped never to meet the two of you," he said when William and Paoli were introduced. "But I guess things are different now."

  "Not as different as I would like," William said stiffly.

  Jonathon seemed to consider him briefly. "I've heard some rumors," he admitted. "Come, let's find a more appropriate place for this discussion."

  They filed behind Jonathon and his men down a wide hallway. Halfway along, Lyric heard Paoli speak from directly behind her. "If you won't come to me, I'll come to you," he said, having evidently switched places with Empusa.

  She spared a dark look at the werewolf for his poor performance as a human buffer—he just grinned and gave her a little shrug—then turned her attention to Paoli. "You really don't take a hint, do you?" she hissed.

  He gave an amused huff. "Do you really want me to?"

  She hesitated the merest fraction. "Yes."

  "Liar," he said quietly.

  Her back stiffened. While she knew there was a tiny bit of doubt, there was no way he could. Which meant he was simply being arrogant. "Is this really the time for this conversation?" She pointedly focused her attention on Emily, who was walking directly in front of her.

  "Is there a bad time for an important conversation?" he asked doggedly.

  "Yes. This is a bad time," she insisted. "We're surrounded by werewolves-"

  "Who can hear you right now," he interjected with a note of warning.

  "What?" she gasped in surprise, stumbling a step.

  "He's not wrong," Jonathon said from the front of the line.

  Her gaze snapped toward the sound of his voice. She scanned the figures in front of her until she located him. He was far enough away she could barely see his head. Her mouth opened in horror.

  Paoli chuckled behind her. "You know the fairytale that says 'what big ears you have'? Well, it's not wrong."

  Lyric was struggling with potentially fatal embarrassment. If Jonathon could hear them whisper from the very front of the line, it meant every other person in the hall could hear them, as well. Anger replaced embarrassment. Paoli had known it—damn him—and he hadn't bothered to warn her. She paused just long enough to elbow him in the gut with enough force to get the satisfaction of hearing the air rush from his lungs in an 'ooff'.

  A smirk settled on her face when she heard muffled chuckling from several different directions. If Paoli was willing to set her up for embarrassment, she could dish it right back.

  "I think we need to talk about these violent tendencies o
f yours," he said a moment later.

  She ignored him as the hallway widened into a spacious, circular room. A large desk was set along one wall and reminded her of the reception area of a doctor's office. Just in front of the desk was another hall, and it was lined on both sides by closed doors. Behind it was a set of French doors, standing open to reveal another circular room set with a huge round table in the center.

  Jonathon led the party through the French doors and motioned for everyone to have a seat. Lyric tried to slip back between Emily and Empusa, but as soon as she took a single step, Paoli's hand clamped around her wrist in a grip that was gentle but firm. She looked down at his hand and glared into his face.

  He gave her a stiff smile. "We'll sit right here," he said matter-of-factly, and proceeded to drag her toward two chairs.

  She couldn't fight him over it without making a scene, and the last thing she wanted was to be the center of attention in a room full of werewolves. Therefore, she had no choice but to allow him to guide her to the chair he'd selected for her.

  He pulled her chair out with a slightly sardonic smile. She 'accidently' stomped on his foot on her way past him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Please explain what's happened at the Coven," Jonathon said to William once everyone had taken their seats. "We've been visited by a werewolf who claimed Lycaon is taking over independent rule."

  Silence stretched out while everyone absorbed the news and the atmosphere seemed to become even more somber. Empusa audibly sucked in a breath. Lyric glanced at him and found his face hard and set.

  "Did he threaten your pack?" William asked, his voice authoritative and concerned. He watched the alpha closely, his eyes searching the other's face.

  "It wasn't exactly a threat. I'd call it more of a warning," Jonathon said, leaning forward in his chair with his arms folded on the table in front of him. He drummed the table rhythmically with his thick fingers. "I called a few other alphas I know once the guy left. It turns out everyone received a similar visit."

  Paoli tensed subtly beside her. "What did he say?" he asked the alpha in a voice she'd never heard him use. It was that of an experienced diplomat; someone used to being heard.

  "He said to expect a visit from Lycaon himself in the near future, and to be prepared to offer support and a show of allegiance when he arrived," Jonathon said with a bite of contempt.

  Low-level discussion broke out all around her. Lyric tried to listen to multiple conversations, piecing together the magnitude of the situation. People kept deferring to Paoli for information, who seemed to know everything there was to know; providing answers and reassurance when warranted.

  His leg pressed against hers when he turned to speak to someone else, but he didn't move it when the conversation shifted in another direction. She suspected it wasn't the innocent action she'd first assumed, and his brief glance in her direction just confirmed it.

  She spared a glare at him and tried to turn away to speak to Empusa, but he was already leaned in the other direction, speaking to someone else. A quick, surreptitious look toward Paoli showed him seemingly engrossed in conversation with one of Jonathon's party, but as soon as she turned to face forward, his leg once again pressed against hers. He didn't acknowledge the action or make any outward sign he was aware of the contact, but Lyric knew full well he was doing it on purpose.

  Aggravated, she covertly slipped her hand down between their legs and attempted to push his away. Paoli didn't fight it, but as soon as she removed her hand, his leg returned once again. She fought the urge to strike him, but it was a near thing.

  "Lycaon's moving faster than we expected," Empusa said to the room at last. "This is about to become a nightmare."

  "Did the man say when to expect Lycaon?" William asked Jonathon.

  Jonathon looked at everyone in their party; studying each face in turn, as if weighing their worth. "Tell me what's happening," he said beseechingly when his gaze fell on William.

  "Lycaon has fractured the Coven," Emily said heavily. "He destroyed Lilith and plans to take over the entire immortal world."

  Jonathon and his men all seemed to be rendered speechless. Lyric watched as one paled, another one blanched, and the third one turned to face the alpha, who took the news stoically.

  "He's going to restart the war," one of the wolves said quietly, and hushed discussion started among them, all voicing their concerns for families and other pack members.

  "Not if we can stop him," Sekhmet piped up vehemently, bringing the conversation to a halt.

  A moment later, Jonathon gave a humorless laugh. "How do you plan to stop him?"

  "He can't rule both species without William. Vampires won't follow a werewolf. I mean no offense," Paoli added hastily when Jonathon gave him an affronted look. "But you know they won't. And, as William has no intention of becoming Lycaon's pawn, all he'll accomplish is a lot of bloodshed."

  The alpha looked pointedly at the weapons that were clearly visible on most of their party. "And I suppose you guys come in peace?" he asked sardonically.

  "We come as peacekeepers," Paoli said cautiously. "Prepared to do whatever it takes to keep the violence from spreading."

  "The committee asked us to intervene and bring Lycaon back under control," William informed the werewolves. "Which means we have to expect some resistance."

  "And now the Coven's own Executioner is hunting Lycaon?" Jonathon gave a small chuckle. "That's irony for you."

  Lyric watched as he sat back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head thoughtfully. He sat like that for a while, then turned toward his men and started another quiet conversation she couldn't hear from where she sat. The discussion was spirited, with the men leaning and gesturing toward their group.

  Eventually, the conversation died out and Jonathon turned his attention back to William. "My main focus is keeping my pack safe and taking care of my wolves. We're not joining Lycaon's rebellion. Or yours," he added pointedly.

  "Jonathon, Lycaon isn't going to give you a choice," Empusa insisted. "If he arrives and you refuse him, what do you think will happen? He's not going to say, 'thanks anyway' and offer you a handshake on his way out."

  Jonathon's gaze bore into Empusa, who didn't look away. This made the alpha frown; not like he was angry, but contemplative. "I'll need to gather the rest of my pack to discuss the situation. There's a lot to be considered here. Can you meet with us again tomorrow?"

  "Of course," William said. He rose from his chair and extended his hand. "I wish we came with better news."

  "As do I," Jonathon said sincerely, shaking William's offered hand.

  Everyone got to their feet and murmured farewells to their hosts. Lyric hung back, feeling distinctly out of place. She watched as the people around her moved through the room, all shaking hands and speaking final words to one another. Faces bore signs of stress and worry; the people in her party offered words of encouragement to the werewolves; promises of support and camaraderie.

  In a strange way, she hadn't understood the severity of the situation before. Paoli had told her they were at war, of course. But it had seemed such an abstract idea at the time; some vague and distant thing. Watching them all now made her understand the truth. These people were the reason humans slept peacefully in their beds at night, unaware life and death battles raged around them.

  It was a humbling realization.

  The image of Emily beheading the werewolf at the church property swam into her head. She remembered her shock at seeing the three of them standing in a pile of corpses, having a calm conversation. It made sense to her now. They were able to behave as though it was nothing out of the ordinary because it wasn't. Not for them.

  Her eyes rested on Paoli's broad back and questions flooded her mind. Who was he, really? She now knew this band of immortals had been sent by their own government; so clearly they carried more significance than she'd realized.

  Sekhmet was standing at the doorway and motioned her to join him. She did
so absently, waiting while the rest of their group joined, one by one.

  "Are you all right?" Paoli asked as they headed toward the exit.

  It was hard for her to put into words. Next to the magnitude of her recent revelations, she realized how insignificant she was; how insignificant everyone was. She gave Paoli a sideways glance, then slid her gaze around at the people in their party, respect blossoming in her chest. "I'm fine," she said without looking at him.

  The cool night air enveloped them as they left the building and Lyric found it refreshing. A half-moon spilled a warm yellow glow, throwing dancing shadows around the small parking lot. From the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she detected movement near a clump of trees at the edge of the building. When she turned her head for a better look, however, there was nothing to be seen. She frowned in the direction, then decided it must be a delayed reaction to the stress of the last couple of days and dismissed it as pure imagination.

  Paoli walked silently beside her, his eyes forward but his attention on her raging emotions. He was trying to piece together what had set her off into such a spiral, but nothing in particular stood out.

  "What's on your mind?" he asked, taking her arm to stop her from getting into the car with Emily. "Are you all right?"

  For some inexplicable reason, Lyric felt the sting of tears. She wasn't even sure why, but there it was, all the same. "I'm fine," she said thickly.

  He continued to watch her, his brows furrowed. "Come on," he said at last, and knocked on the hood of William's car to signal him to leave.

  He steered her toward the other car and opened the door to usher her in, following closely.

  Lyric quickly scooted to the other side of the seat, trying to put a little distance between them. But there was no overlooking him sitting there; looking at her with tender concern, waiting for her to speak. She turned away and sat silently, watching the streetlights go by while she considered the meeting and tried to figure out why she felt like crying now.