She knew what was going on and for all intents and purposes, there was only one way she could see to stop it. She couldn’t call Charlie, Bootstrap or Kale out to help. They had never even seen the Loup Garou. They had never been allowed on this end of the property. Her sisters would be useless, for their spells only worked for their own broods.
Pondering all of it put Viv in an even crappier mood. It was eight o’clock in the morning, when normal people usually sat down for coffee and eggs, and here she was dealing with this. She just wished for a normal life. Often dreamed about what that might be like, feel like. Just as she often wondered why certain people were born a certain way. Some rich, some poor, some white, some Asian. Others Chenilles, another Nosferatu. Or as Socrates had so aptly put it moments ago—a Triad.
It was hard enough having been born a triplet when life seemed to be about “finding” oneself. How did you find yourself when you were a tether of three? And an odd tether at that; a tomboy prone to wrangling cattle and sharing a beer with one of three cowboys. Her sisters carried themselves with grace and reeked of femininity. She, on the other hand, usually reeked of sweat.
Even as children, Viv and her sisters never dressed alike, each seeking their own identity. Aside from the need for singularity, they had always remained very close. Oftentimes, if one of the sisters wasn’t feeling well or even experienced a startle, the other two felt it just as strongly. In fact, she was surprised with all she was going through right now that Abigail and Evette weren’t here standing beside her. Surely they had to know something was going on with her.
Maybe the universe had gone deaf. Whatever the case, with her senses heightened, the intense sexual charge in the air didn’t help matters one bit. She hadn’t had sex in over a year, all because of some stupid curse that had been handed down too many generations ago.
Because of that curse, every mother or Elder responsible for a Triad lived out their days twisting and turning just to keep them chaste. They weren’t supposed to be intimate with humans and marrying one was a huge no-no.
Chances were, the other no-goes for a Triad had gotten twisted around so much that their literal meaning had been tweaked in one manner or another as they made their way to the twenty-first century. She knew they couldn’t marry a human, but having sex with one was something she considered left to interpretation. Not that she or her sisters had tried it…yet. They were too chicken to tempt fate.
All Viv knew for sure was that every damn morning before she came down to the feeding shoot, she had to look through her Grimoire and face the horrid mirror. That mirror showed the most horrific scenes regarding the devastation of the world if they shirked their duties. The book itself listed spell after spell, consequence after consequence. And if that wasn’t enough to shove her tainted ancestry in her face, she and her sisters each bore a birthmark. An absolutus infinitus. Viv’s was about two inches long and sat on her right hip. An ugly reminder of some big bad no-no done a gazillion years ago by a grandmother thirty times removed.
Taking that into consideration, all that remained for Viv and her sisters when sex came to mind—which was often—were Fae, leprechauns, one of their brood or a sorcerer who had taken the dark side to devilry and had paid for it with his humanity. Fae and leprechauns did nothing for Viv. Both were too short, and short turned her off. As for sorcerers, there were only three that she knew of in the area. Trey Cottle, a weasel and whore-monger, Shandor Black, who always had his nose stuck so far up Cottle’s butt, Viv didn’t know how he breathed. And there was Gunner Stern, a sorcerer, but a nice old guy. There being the problem. He was old, like seventy-something old. That certainly didn’t make Viv’s nipples tingle.
When too much time had passed, and it was either have sex or go blind, she’d have a row with one of her Loups. When not matted with fur and fangs, many of the males were quite handsome. Big and muscular, with long, flowing hair, and they knew what to do with genitalia. There was always something missing, though, when having sex with a Loup. The act felt animalistic, which wasn’t all bad at times, but she was a woman, damn it, and a bit of romance would be nice occasionally. Romance, however, was not in a Loup’s vocabulary. All they knew was get it while it’s hot, then sleep it off until it’s time to eat.
Sometimes, though, as Socrates said, some things were stronger than magic, and she gave into her urges and had sex with a Loup. She couldn’t get attached to any one of them in particular because the other males would see that as a weakness in her leadership abilities. She certainly wasn’t going to marry a Loup Garou, much less a sorcerer.
Viv kicked the dirt again, angry she’d allowed herself to jump on that train of thought. Her frustration level now matched Everest’s peak.
Here she was watching two alpha males fight over a female Loup Garou just because she twitched her tail. Viv wanted to beat the two males upside the head with the two-by-four to mellow out her own sexual frustrations. Also so she wouldn’t have to babysit them.
It was far from easy being on twenty-four-seven watch over a bunch of sniveling, whining, horny wolves. And when Viv François had enough, she had had enough.
She picked up the two-by-four, gave Socrates a little nudge with her boot when he hissed at her, then unlatched the gate. She immediately closed and locked it behind her.
Still partially invisible, she didn’t think she had to worry about the warring Loups turning on her. Even if they glanced her way, they’d only see a shimmer in the air, like heat rising from a desert highway. There was the two-by-four that appeared to be floating in midair, however.
Viv walked slowly toward the alphas, realizing she probably could’ve stepped up to them in full view. They were too wrapped up in which one would go down first so the other could hop Stratus, who seemed unable to care less about who won the fight. Really.
Socrates started caterwauling, weaving through the bars of the gate, going inside of the compound then quickly back out, as if not knowing what to do or how to stop Viv.
Milan was a large black Loup with a mane that reached to the middle of his back. His ears were long and pinpoint straight, and his bared fangs were at least six inches long. He stood upright like a man, though his paws were those of a Loup, and he swiped at Warden with long, sharp, black claws. Warden was a blond Loup and nearly twice Milan’s size. Yet he showed the worst of the wear simply because of his color. More blood stained his fur. It was difficult to tell if most of it came from his own wounds or was splatter from his opponent’s. Suddenly, Whiskers and Yazdee started whooping and jumping up and down with excitement. Evidently Socrates’s noise had caught their attention and they had zeroed in on the floating two-by-four.
Viv dared to move faster, fearing the racket stirred up by her cheerleading squad might capture Warden’s or Milan’s attention.
It did rouse Stratus. The alpha female lifted her head from her paws, looked past the two-by-four and directly at Viv as if she were in full view. Viv could’ve sworn she saw Stratus smirk. She hated when that Loup went into heat. It always turned the compound upside down. Throw in a stray male alpha from a different compound, and she had World War Seven.
Viv kept her focus on the alpha males, inching closer, dodging left, back, forward in rhythm with their fight. It felt like an odd war dance as she juggled around the fight, trying to avoid getting clawed, yet get close enough to make impact.
She took aim. Whichever Loup cleared first was the one she planned to whack.
They tumbled, clawed, she dodged left. Blood from one of the Loups sprayed across her shirt and jeans, then again before she felt it splatter across her face and slide down her neck. These guys were really getting out of control, and if she didn’t do something soon, one of them was going to die. And that was not an option.
The closer she moved in, the harder they fought. She ducked left, more blood sprayed across her face. She felt it splat onto her head and through her hair, which she kept in a braid that reached the small of her back.
Finally, seem
ing to gather what strength he had left, Warden leaped out and took a huge swatch of flesh from Milan’s chest, turning him in place. Blood sprayed everywhere, especially over Viv, who now looked like she’d bathed in it. Milan’s eyes appeared dazed as he whirled about from the blow.
Before he could refocus for the fight, Viv grabbed the two-by-four in both hands and swung at him, whacking him across the head as hard as her tall, slender body would allow. That pitched him off balance and dropped him to the ground.
As Milan scrambled to get upright, Warden had enough time to race over to Stratus and attempt to mount her even before she stood.
Milan mewled when he saw Stratus begin to take all Warden had to offer.
Viv allowed herself to return to full view, tossed the two-by-four aside and snarled at Milan’s mewling. “Oh, grow the hell up,” she said, then whirled about and headed back for the gate.
En route, Viv pointed at Stratus, making sure she had her attention. “You want to play games with these guys, sistah? Then get ready to play hard because I quit.”
Viv stormed off for the gate, her head buzzing with an ache so painful she could barely see.
No sooner did she unlock the gate, let herself through and relock it than Socrates started yelling at her. She ignored him, catching only a word or two from his rampage because of the buzzing in her head.
“You can’t just leave, Viv,” Socrates yelled after her.
She stormed past him, turning her back on the fortress bound with silver-tipped barbed wire. In the distance, she caught the sound of Whiskers fretting.
“Wait, wait! What do we do? Stop! Yazdee, what do we do now? What? Our leader has absconded!”
*
Socrates scrambled to the other side of the gate and watched Viv storm off. He knew he couldn’t stop her, not when she was this mad, this disgusted. It worried him that her spells hadn’t worked. Even under the circumstances, with all that just happened, leaving hadn’t been the answer.
If Viv thought things were bad now, she was about to discover a new definition for worse.
Copyright © 2017 by Deborah LeBlanc
ISBN-13: 9781488031229
Desert Wolf
Copyright © 2017 by Linda ThomasSundstrom
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