I jump off Bastien’s lap. “Are you crazy?! Did you hear me at all when I told you what they do inside Richland? They could throw you in the tank with someone like me.” I’d be broken if he died. When did I fall in love so completely?
Angrily, I stalk out of the kitchen. I’m angry at myself for being vulnerable, angry at Richland for what he did to Livia and I, and angry at Bastien for being chivalrous. Why’d he have to be such a great guy? This would be easier if he sucked. A tingle in my hands signals to me that my Arcana is kicking up into high gear along with my anger.
Bastien doesn’t let me get far. He catches my hand and whirls me around to face him. Ah! He needs to stop with all the alpha male manhandling! Maybe. Not really.
“Rachel, I’m sorry you’re mad, but I won’t let you go back there.”
“Let me? How do you propose to stop me Mr. Macho?”
He smiles at me so seductively my panties get damp. Traitorous girly bits.
“I think we both know I am a clever boy,” he teases.
Who can stay mad at that?! Hmph. He can think he’s won for now. I won’t stand by and watch him sacrifice his life for Livia and me. When I have the chance, I’m out of here. Keller will get his sample and Livia won’t die. Not if I can help it.
CHAPTER 14
Bastien
I’m furious. Between lending emotional support to Rachel and trying to keep anger under wraps, I’m stretched thin. My niece is dying. I didn’t know she existed until yesterday, and now she may not live past tomorrow. My mate is in agony. It radiates off of her. When she broke down I wanted to rip something apart. I still do, but I need to focus on Rachel. She can't afford for me to go rogue.
Loving her as is effortless as breathing. After our talk I put her into bed. She needs the rest. I have too much pent up energy to sleep. I pace the living room. The change is sizzling in my gut. If I allow my wolf out, I’ll relax, but Rachel and I didn’t talk about my furry side. I don't want to freak her out on day two. Shedding clothing usually helps. Stripped down to my jeans and bare feet I don't feel any better. Back to pacing, bouncing on the balls of my feet, rolling my shoulders, and ignoring the call to change.
I don't hear silently Rachel walk in. “Getting ready to box with someone?” She asks. I shake my head. I don’t trust myself to speak without sounding like the big bad wolf. My vocal cords are being affected by the need to shift.
Rachel ambles over and hooks a finger in my belt loop. “What can I do? Please don’t shut me out.”
I could expend some energy if I fucked her brains out. Appealing as that sounds, I can’t guarantee she wouldn’t see me wolf out a little.
“Need to change.” My voice is thick, which makes it hard to speak.
“Change? Into a wolf?”
I nod. She doesn’t need to think about it before saying, “Okay. Am I safe if you change?”
“Always safe. With me.” I struggle to get the words out.
“Then change. I’m not afraid.”
This woman amazes me. Destiny has given me a mate I fear I am not worthy of. I’ll worry later. Right now, I need release.
Rachel helps me remove my jeans. She blushes prettily at my nudity. A born wolf, my transformation is quick and relatively painless. None of the popping and flesh tearing that bitten wolves endure. Used to be all of us were born wolves, now it is about fifty-fifty. Another advantage to born wolves is we can choose the canine form or a human/wolf hybrid. The hybrid is similar to what you see in the horror movies. Made wolves only have the hybrid option. I decided to go for canine over horror movie to ease Rachel into it. What woman wants to know they married The Howling?
The wolf fully takes over. My fur is white. It’s rare and I’m proud of my coat. She said she’s okay, but no reason to throw her in the deep end without a life raft. I give Rachel the chance to touch me. She hesitates, so I bump her thigh with my nose and whine. Tentatively, her fingers tunnel into my fur on the side of my neck. Gaining confidence she pets me and scratches behind my ear. Aw, damn. She hits a spot on my ear and my back leg starts kicking. This is embarrassing. Yep might as well neuter me.
She giggles. “That good, huh? I think I’ve a few spots that make me jump too. You are welcome to explore them after you take a run.”
A run huh? I'll take a quick zip across my property. Won't take more than a few minutes, and I can be back to look for those spots Rachel spoke of. Mind made up I head for the side door. Rachel unlocks it, and I take off. Wait, my wife just let me out like a dog. Not how I envisioned life with a mate.
CHAPTER 15
Rachel
My husband runs off to chase rabbits or whatever werewolves do. I can only shake my head and snicker. My life has detoured onto an unusual path. I put Bastien's jeans by the door so he can dress when he returns. The thought of prying eyes scrutinizing my gloriously naked man gives me a twitch. Possessive already. Opening yourself up for heartache, Rachel. What else can I do? Not falling in love with him is laughable. It is too late if I’m being honest with myself.
I heard the backdoor open and slam shut. Home already? He just left! It’s not Bastien. Miguel Lopez comes stalking into the room. This is really bad. He shows up the minute Bastien leaves my side. Did he hurt Bastien? I sprint for the bedroom, but he’s faster. He picks me up and propels me across the living room into the wall cracking the plaster. My head is spinning, blood fills my mouth. Miguel pulls me up from the floor by my hair, and uses his body to crowd me.
Miguel's hand is around my throat, he applies pressure and leans in to whisper menacingly, “Hello, Bitch. We have unfinished business. Did you know the Lopez pack is the only full familial bitten pack? That means we’re all made, not born. We’re unique. The future. Better than those stuck up born assholes. Alonzo belonged to a legacy and you killed him.”
I swallow around his hand. “I had no choice,” I wheeze.
His fingernails are growing longer, sharp daggers digging into my neck. “You could have chosen to die instead.”
Fat chance, Cujo. I like me a hell of a lot better than your legacy.
The edges of my vision are turning black. I am going to pass out and when I do I won't wake up ever again. Where the hell is my Arcana? I reach for it but my head throbs. I think Alonzo gave me a concussion when he threw me into the wall and now it’s messing with my Arcana.
“I’m not a monster, I’m not without mercy. I can be quick, kill you before you notice the pain.”
Aren’t you a gentleman.
Honestly, I pray he’s telling the truth. I don't want to die. I want to live and be with Bastien. I want Livia to live, too. But I’m helpless. I can't fight anymore. I’m gonna die. Dear God, please, let the ones I love survive. I open my eyes. Miguel looks hell bent on murdering me. We’re nose to nose. In his pupils, I see my reflection. My ears register the wet crunch. Miguel’s grasp loosens and precious oxygen fills my lungs. Miguel gurgles, blood streams out of his mouth. Between our bodies a red stain blooms across his shirt. His eyes drop mine to peer over his shoulder, behind him is Bastien.
A feral sneer curls his lips, and he growls, “I’m without mercy.”
Bastien moves away and allows Miguel’s body to crumble to the ground. Carelessly, Bastien drops something on top of him. It is Miguel's heart. Bastien pulled it out through his back.
CHAPTER 16
Bastien
Rachel is sitting on our bed. We just returned from the doctor. She has a concussion and a lot of bruising. Miguel almost killed her with the force he used to throw her against the wall. It’s a miracle she doesn't have any broken bones. A bruise in the shape of Miguel's hand is visible on her throat. There are lacerations where he cut her with his claws. My father sent a cleaning crew over to take care of the mess while I accompanied Rachel to the hospital. When we returned the body was gone, the carpet showed no trace of blood, and the plaster was repaired. Gone for two hours, and the house looks normal again. Werewolves are notoriously violent, makes sense we know how
to clean up a mess.
I’ve not spoken since it happened. I was holding back, but I can't anymore. “How dare he touch you? I’ll collect the head of every member of his clan, starting with his mother. If my father won't support me, I'll challenge him for the pack. No one will touch you without fear their entire house will be wiped out.”
“Bastien, you can't do that,” she chastises.
“I’m the alpha! I can do what I damn well please!” What the hell? I’m not the alpha.
I’m seething, and Rachel is grinning at me. She’s pissing me off. Rachel crawls towards the edge of the bed. All she wears is one of my shirts and her panties. Perched on her knees she crooks a finger at me to come closer. I come near enough for her to unbutton my jeans.
I mildly attempt to dissuade her. “Rachel, you are injured, and I’m so angry I might combust.”
“I feel stronger. My head doesn't hurt and my back feels great. Even my throat seems to have recovered.”
I tip her jaw back to carefully inspect. Well I'll be damned. She’s right. The bruising is fading. Fading too fast. The advanced healing is a benefit from our mating or something they did to her at Richland’s. Either way, I’m glad.
“Still in no shape for sex, Love.”
Rachel won't let me tell her no. “Bastien, I’m alive. I was certain I was dying. I imagined I'd never see you again. Instead, I’m breathing and whole with my sexy mate in front of me. I. Want. You.” Her fingernails score my abs under my shirt. Her lips caress my neck.
“Rachel, I can't be gentle right now. I’m begging you to stop,” I plead.
“Then don't be gentle,” she whispers in my ear.
That’s all I can take. I grip the bottom of her shirt and tear it from her. I shoulder her backwards and follow her down, spreading kisses on her breasts. Rachel's hands are everywhere; my back, my neck, my scalp. She pouts when I untangle myself from her hands and sit up. I look at her flushed skin and the marks on her breasts left by me, my marks on my mate. I like seeing them. My lust boils over, and it gets worse when she runs her hands over her breasts, down her abdomen and into her underwear. I halt her hand. Another pretty pout for me. She gasps when I grip her underwear and shred them. Hope she didn't like that pair.
“I knew you were mine from the start. The way you smell makes me crazy.” I bury my face between her thighs. I want to make her scream my name. At the first touch of my tongue, she moans. Fingers burrow through my hair. I continue to lick her and slip two fingers inside. Turning them up I search for the g-spot in her core. Now that I am working them both Rachel is rocking against my face.
“Oh my god, Bastien! Don't stop, please don't stop!” she begs. Her moaning turns to cries. She calls for God, she begs me again.
The orgasm ripples through her as she screams and bucks her hips. I use my free hand to prevent her from getting free. I maintain my onslaught until she screams my name a second time. Rachel has a minute to recover while I finish getting my jeans off. Naked, I slide up Rachel's body. Hitching her right leg up over my hip, I line my penis up and slide into heaven. My entrance was a little rough, but she cries out and orders me to do it again. Gripping her hips tight, I roll us over so she’s riding me.
The switch doesn't faze her. She finds her rhythm rocking above me. Her hands at her breasts, I watch her massage them. She rolls her nipples between her fingertips. Rachel rotates her hips, and I think I see stars. I bring my hand down between us and use my thumb to bring her to another orgasm; she goes off like a rocket. Her hands thrust up into her hair, and she throws her head back. A few thrusts and I find my own release. Rachel collapses on my chest panting. All my anger is gone, replaced by gratefulness that I am still able hold her.
CHAPTER 17
Rachel
Bastien is asleep. He's exhausted. The day was tiring, and the great sex totally finished him off. My heart constricts. How am I going to leave this man? If all goes according to plan, I’ll be fine. Chances are I’m not going to be fine. I must go back to the Richland Institute. Livia needs the antidote if she’s going to survive. Keller needs the virus to make the antidote. I won’t let Bastien go there. I slip out of bed and get dressed. After I write Bastien a note, I leave.
I’m jittery. Whatever those hacks injected me with is getting stronger. I’m scared. What if the Arcana gets too strong and I can't manage it? A buzzing of electricity runs in my veins. I’m a live wire. My emotions are tied to the Arcana. Richland wanted me to be a weapon. He’s going to witness first hand if his project is a success or a failure.
I walk up to the front door of the Richland Institute like I own it. The building appears innocuous from the outside. The windows with bars must face a different side. I barely step one foot inside the front door when people start screaming at me to lie on the floor. I comply, and a guard sticks a knee in my back to hold me down while a nurse injects me with something. Already with the needles and drugs?
I don't know how long I was out for. I wake up groggy. My mouth tastes thick with cotton. Lying perfectly still, I close my eyes and use my power to assess the situation. I can sense the guards. There are a lot of them. Dr. Morris is in the room next door. He’s arguing with someone over my brain scans. Ah, there is Richland. Dr. Morris is giving him a progress report.
“Her readings are phenomenal. I dared not dream this level of psychic ability was possible from the virus.”
“I understand Dr. Morris, but if I can’t witness a demonstration for myself I won't accept the readings as anything more than scratches on paper.”
“Well, yes sir, I agree. We should examine her abilities, but Gates' death taught us she can’t be forced to perform.”
Richland laughs at him. They’re getting closer. Time to get this show on the road. The curtain around my bed is pulled back.
Richland is smirking at me. “Good evening Miss Ryan. May we speak?” The coward is surrounded by guards.
Afraid of something, Richland?
“You can go to hell,” I reply sweetly.
The bastard chuckles and steps closer. I cannot stress how hard I am holding myself back from killing this man where he stands. His orders condemned Livia to death.
“You will go back into the testing tank. I desire to see what new tricks you have learned.”
I want to scream. I’m terrified to go in the tank. I think I can defend myself, but maybe I just got lucky before. I couldn’t fight Miguel off. There will be someone else in the tank with me. Richland wants to watch me kill someone, someone who may be just like me. That leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
“We will be back for you at eight in the morning. Be ready.”
Richland walks out leaving the door open. Searching the walls for a clock, I discover I only have four hours. Dr. Morris remains next to the bed.
“Something I can help you with, Doc?” I ask him.
He refuses eye contact. “The girl. Livia. Is she dead?”
“Not yet. Soon,” I grit out.
He rubs the back of his neck and sighs, “You have every right to hate me. I am not a nice man. My experiments have destroyed thousands of lives, for which I am sure I will be severely punished for one day. But I want you to know I cared for Livia. I delivered her. Her mother loved her even with the forced conception. She died before naming her. I looked at the baby, and I was changed. I named her. I tried to protect her. In the end, I failed.”
Dr. Morris left me behind in shock. I still hate the man, but a very small piece of me empathizes with him. Microscopic small piece of me. I won't cry when he dies.
High heels clicking on the linoleum signal the arrival of another person in the room, but I can’t see them. The stranger speaks to Morris and I hear a voice I thought I’d never hear again. Anna, my ex roommate, has come calling. I guess that answers the question of whether or not she was in on the scheme to kidnap me.
Sugary sweet, Anna asks Morris to leave us alone. “Girl talk, you know? We have some catching up to do.”
Looking at
Anna, she doesn’t look as perfect as I once thought she was. She’s high maintenance with the salon styled hair, perfect manicure, and designer clothes. She wasn’t born with it. It’s all Maybelline. Perfect Anna, a perfect bitch.
Scowling at her, I caution, “Do you really want to be alone with me, Anna? You fall third on the list of people I want to see slowly disemboweled.”
She snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “You are tied to the bed, what can you do to me?”
You have no idea, honey.
As much as I hate to admit it, seeing Anna hurts. Her presence confirms that she was never my friend, knowing this I can’t feel happy she is okay. Does it make me a bad person that I hoped she was genuine and died because of it?
“Tell me why, Anna. I want to know what was in it for you, were we ever friends at all?”
She throws her head back and laughs, “This was never about being your friend, Rachel, there’s more at stake.”
My turn to chuckle. “You expect me to believe you’re on Richland’s genocide bandwagon? No offenses sweetie, but you were never the brightest bulb in the box, I have a hard time thinking of you as a criminal mastermind.”
Anna narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t know what genocide means, but I’m not stupid.”
Debatable.
Frustrated and ready for this conversation to be over I growl at Anna to tell me why.
“Stu tells me who the targets are and I get them for a price. My Stu Bear is very generous when I’m a good girl,” she coos.
“Oh gag me. You sleep with Richland? I think that might be worse than helping him with his plans to abduct people for experiments, and you do it for spa days and expensive hand bags. I think it’s time for you to go, Anna.”
My tolerance cup runneth over with bull shit.
Rising Shadows Page 7