Dark Dragon's Wolf
Page 8
Mayah found herself in a knife-throwing competition with Kira and Jasmin by the Alex Fierro Memorial Beach and Tiki Bar. Which was actually a shabby trailer with a crescent-shaped pile of sand and a giant kiddie pool in front of it, and a for-real tiki bar on the oversized porch, with a crooked sign proclaiming its name.
“Who’s Alex Fierro?” Mayah asked.
“That’s who I used to be, before I was Turned,” said Xander. He’d been sitting to the side drinking a neon-green cocktail with a little umbrella in it, and giving them annoying and unsolicited knife-throwing advice.
“It was like Alex died, so I decided to be Xander instead. Which was good, because Alex was a stupid fuck who didn’t love Jenny, even though she loved me. Him. Luckily she found me and I realized how awesome she was, so I built her a beach and a tiki bar.”
That almost made sense. Mayah said politely, “How incredibly… Xander of you.”
He grinned at her. “I rock. So when Jenny agreed to be my forever mate, I named the tiki bar after dead Alex me, the stupid fuck. RIP.”
His son Brandon, in panther form, sneaked up and pounced on him. Xander expertly wrestled him to the porch floor while keeping his drink from spilling.
Brandon Changed to human. “I wanna throw knife,” he proclaimed.
“Can’t,” Xander said. “Mama says no knives until you’re five.”
“I wanna throw knife now,” Brandon insisted. He was scowling.
Xander sighed. “You really want your mother to find out I gave you a knife to play with? When she has all those pregnant hormones going on? I can’t even describe what a bad plan that is. Come on, I’ll read you a story. Go get one of your books off the bar.”
Brandon scowled for another minute, and then went over, climbed up on a barstool and got a small storybook. He brought it back and snuggled into Xander’s lap.
“Ahh, The Gashlycrumb Tinies. An excellent choice. Entertaining and educational.” Xander opened the book and began reading.
‘A is for Amy, who fell down the stairs.’
He turned the page.
‘B is for Basil, assaulted by bears.’
Kira stopped in mid-throw. “Are you seriously reading him a book about kids dying horrible deaths?”
Xander looked up. “How is he ever going to play Alphabet Death if he doesn’t know the alphabet? And all the ways to kill someone? This book has it all.”
Kira rolled her eyes and threw the knife into the target. “Three points,” she said, going to retrieve it. “And why the fuck are you teaching a three-year-old to play Alphabet Death?”
“He’ll be four soon.” Xander turned a page.
“What’s wrong with this Alphabet Death thing?” Mayah asked. “Except for, you know, the death part.”
“A) it’s a drinking game,” Kira said, as Xander read on. “And B) you have to go around the table and everyone comes up with a way to kill someone, for fuck’s sake.”
“In alphabetical order,” Xander added. “You can’t repeat any. If you can’t think of one before time is up, you drink.”
“Don’t forget to tell Brandon not to sit where he’s going to get ‘q’,” Jasmin said as she lined up her shot. “‘Q’ sucks.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows that.” He turned a page and read about another hapless child, this one thrown out of a sleigh.
Kira shook her head at Xander. “No one should allow you to raise a child.”
“See, that’s why I’m not having cubs,” Jasmin said, throwing a bulls-eye. “Everyone judges you if you happen to suck at it. And there’s too many rules.”
“Hate rules,” Brandon said. “Wanna throw knives.”
Xander just grinned.
Chapter 16
The barbecue food was amazing. Brody and Jasmin—professional chefs, both of them—had done most of the cooking. Mayah ate until she was stuffed, and then perched on the retaining wall while Tristan sat behind her, legs straddled on either side of her, his arms around her waist.
“Having fun?” she asked.
“You need to ask?” But she sensed that even though part of him was happy, part of him wasn’t. He was still brooding over something.
They were teasing Xander about his self-professed dream to start an online business selling fake glitter poop and novelty condoms, when one of Caitlyn and Sloan’s babies made a break for the wall—and the three-foot drop onto the flagstones below.
Tristan scooped him up with one arm. “Hey, buddy,” he said. “Bad idea.”
“Dammit,” Caitlyn said. “I turn my back for a nanosecond, and Colton…” She frowned. “No, wait, that’s Remy.”
Xander said, “You can’t even tell your own kids apart? I always said you didn’t deserve to get two at once. You don’t appreciate them.”
Caitlyn gave him the finger. “Anyone can make a mistake. They’re identical twins, for fuck’s sake.”
“Remy?” Mayah said. “That’s an unusual name.”
“Don’t get me started.” Caitlyn threw a balled-up paper napkin at Sloan, who grinned back at her.
Brody said, “It’s short for Remington.”
Tristan was laughing now. “I still can’t believe you named your kids Colt and Remington.” At Mayah’s questioning look, he explained, “Colt and Remington are two of the most famous gun manufacturers in America.”
“They’re badass names,” Sloan protested. “I like them.” He turned to Caitlyn. “And I ran them by you first.”
“Yeah, when I was lying in bed with my labor pains coming like one minute apart. You took advantage of my weakened state.”
He leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. “That’s what you get for not deciding on names until your kids were halfway out of your uterus.”
She kissed him back. “Uh huh. I put you ahead of Xander in the baby stakes in one fell swoop, and this is the thanks I get.” Sloan kissed her again.
“It’s not fair,” Xander grumbled, his hand on Jenny’s stomach. “Even with this panther munchkin, we’ll only be even.”
He glared around the firepit. “In fact, everybody needs to step it up with the procreation. We’re behind on my plan for Little League domination, sponsored by Bearcat Construction. I’m coach.”
That cracked everybody up. Sloan said, “I can just see us playing the Nashville wolf pack. All teeth and fur, and itty bitty brawls fucking everywhere.”
Brandon nodded solemnly. “Claw the udder team’s eyes out if they cheats.”
He put his claws out, and Xander low-fived him. “That’s my boy.”
He turned to the others. “Kira? Jaz? It’s baby-making time. You’re not going to let the team down, are you?”
Jaz said to Xander, “I told you, I’m not having babies. And I’m sure as fuck not doing it for you, asshole.”
“What about for me?” Brody toyed with a strand of her hair. “You want to see me as Assistant Coach Monster Wolf. I know you do.”
Jasmin gave him the side-eye. “Hmph.”
“That means she’s thinking about it.” Brody’s tone was light, but Mayah could see he wanted a baby. Although Jasmin clearly wasn’t the maternal type. More like the type to bite people’s heads off and eat them for breakfast.
Flynn said, “There is no way I’m letting these miniature terrors play baseball out here. Brandon still owes me his allowance for the window he broke last week.” He poked Brandon playfully in the ribs.
Xander snorted. “Good luck with that. He doesn’t even get an allowance yet.”
“I’m writing it down,” Flynn said. “So far, he’s in debt until he’s nine and a half.”
“Nope-er,” Brandon said, leaning against Flynn’s leg. “Keep my ‘lowance.”
Flynn grabbed Brandon and turned him upside down as the little boy shrieked with glee. “Got any money in your pockets? Let’s see what we can shake out.”
“No take ‘lowance!” Brandon yelled, laughing hysterically.
Flynn turned him right-side-up and
perched him on his knee. “Nothing? Guess you have to work it off, then. You gonna help me put in the new window tomorrow?”
“Yesss. I work hard. I yike putty.”
Jenny said, “You’re a brave man, Flynn. Because you know where that window putty’s ending up. In his hair. And yours.”
“Peanut butter gets it out,” Kira said. She gave Brandon a mock dragon scowl. “Ask me how I know.”
Flynn tousled Brandon’s hair. “Rule number twenty-three. No putty in the alpha’s hair.”
Tristan had been watching this whole thing, an odd expression on his face. Now he got up, kissed Mayah’s shoulder, and said, “I’ll be back.”
Mayah watched him head toward the main cabin. She could feel that there was something bothering him, some old sadness that was touched off by being back with his friends. Maybe because they were settled and happy?
She sighed and turned to Caitlyn, who was bouncing one of the twins in her lap. They really were adorable. “I don’t know anything about shifter babies,” she told her. “Or any babies. When do they Change?”
“As young as a year,” Caitlyn said. “Or as late as four or five, but that’s usually only when a cub is raised away from other shifters. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Is there any way to tell which they’ll be? Owl or leopard?”
Caitlyn winked at Sloan, and then raised her voice so Xander could hear. “They’re going to be winged leopard babies.”
Xander gave a theatrical sigh. “I keep telling you that’s not a thing.”
“But it would be so cool!” Caitlyn held the baby up, almost touching noses with him. “You can do it, Colt. I know you can.”
Colton burped in her face, and then he smiled.
When Tristan didn’t come back from the bathroom, Mayah went looking for him. As she passed the reinforced wooden shed the Bad Bloods called the ‘crazy shed,’ she saw him sitting inside in the shadows.
The shed had been their desperation move, in their early days. To contain them when one of their animals got so out of control that they were a deadly danger to themselves or others. From what she’d heard, that used to happen a lot when they first escaped from Alexander Grant’s lab.
But she didn’t know why Tristan would want to be in there now. Just the idea of being locked up in that tiny space—or anywhere—gave her the willies.
“Hey,” she said softly, walking inside. “What’s up?”
He was touching the wall with his fingertips, tracing one of the many deep claw gouges in the wood. “I spent a lot of time in here,” he said. “Do you know, they almost never use this anymore? Not even for Xander.”
“That’s good, right?” But looking at Tristan, she got the feeling that somehow it was making him sad.
“Having mates, having families, it steadied them.”
And he wasn’t steady, she thought. He was still messed up.
She ventured, “So, maybe it can happen for you too.” Because having a little wolf or dragon baby with Tristan someday—that would be awesome. And if it calmed his wolf, that would be even better.
Tristan shook his head. “It’s different for me. With all these fucked-up white wolf genes—my kids would probably have that too. Not to even mention people like Gen-X targeting them all their lives. I could never do that to a cub.”
His words gave Mayah a sinking feeling. Did that mean he didn’t want a mate either? That he was closing down on her because he thought he was bad for her too?
She opened her mouth to ask him, but at that moment Kira appeared in the shed doorway. “There you are,” she said. “The barbecue’s winding down, and we need to get started on this traveling thing. It could take some time.”
She looked from one to the other of them, sensing the tension in the air.
“Sure,” Tristan said. “Let’s do it.” He stood up.
Mayah touched him briefly on the arm, but he didn’t acknowledge her, just gestured for her to precede him out of the shed.
Mayah sighed. And things had been going so well.
Chapter 17
Mayah gave Tristan one last frustrated look, and headed off to the main cabin with her sister. Tristan followed behind.
He knew she was upset. They’d never talked about kids before—but she had to know he’d never bring a cub into the world, knowing it might go through what he’d been through.
Even if it might be a dragon.
For a second, he got a flash of a little girl with his blond hair and Mayah’s green eyes. A tiny silver dragon.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking over at the fire.
Sloan was playing the guitar softly, while Caitlyn sat on the quilt with the babies, now sleeping. Tank had Arden standing on his leg, holding her up. She was giving him little baby growls, and he was growling playfully back at her.
Jenny sat in a chaise, and Brandon had turned panther and was curled up with his head against her baby bump, purring as she stroked his fur.
The others were cleaning up after the barbecue, carrying leftover food into the main cabin.
Tristan went inside. Kira and Mayah and Flynn were already upstairs in Flynn’s study, and Flynn was leaning on the loft railing, growling at the rest of the crew in the kitchen below.
“Hurry the fuck up, would you? And then make sure everyone stays out of here. We’ve got some shit to do, and we need peace and quiet.”
Tristan went up the stairs and joined Kira and Mayah, who were sitting in two of the four chairs around a small conference table. His head was pounding, even though he hadn’t had any alcohol.
But he needed to get through this. For Mayah.
In a minute, Flynn joined them. They’d already explained about the ghosts, what happened in the woods, what Mayah’s dragon had said, and what they wanted Kira to do. Now, Mayah was describing the destination they’d settled on: the white-tiled hallway with the glass-fronted rooms.
“It does sound like it’s here on Earth,” Flynn agreed. “Some kind of lab—maybe Gen-X.” He growled. “I really, really hate those fuckers. And if they have kids in there, I want to blow them the hell up.”
“You and me both,” Tristan said. Flynn nodded. All the Bad Bloods harbored a hatred for anyone who captured and tortured shifters. Especially kids.
“So you’ll help us?” Mayah asked. “If we find them, I mean. We’ll need help rescuing them—Tristan and I can’t do it alone.”
Flynn rested his dark eyes on Tristan, assessing. “We can’t decide shit until we figure out where they are,” he said. “Which is why I agreed to do this, even though Tristan looks like he’s in no fucking shape to do anything but kick back with a good bottle of whiskey.”
That sounded like heaven, especially if he were in bed with Mayah at the time. But he had to do this, and the sooner the better. While he still could.
Flynn turned to Kira. “Are you sure Tris even needs to be a part of this?”
“I’d like to say no,” Kira said. “But the ‘ghosts’ seem to respond best to both of them.”
“Why?” Kira asked.
It didn’t fucking matter. He wasn’t letting her do this alone.
“Will you all stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Tristan snarled. “I’m fine.”
Flynn just shook his head. “Yeah, sure. And where do I send the cleaning bill after your head explodes?”
Tristan growled at him. “Shut the fuck up. I’m going, and nobody’s talking me out of it, so quit wasting time.”
Flynn shrugged and got into position, standing behind Kira with his hands on her shoulders. Light gleamed off the thick engraved gold cuff bracelets he wore on both wrists.
Even Tristan, the non-dragon, could feel the Draken magic in them. They’d been made for the Lion Guard of Al-Maddeiri—the personal guards of the roya
l house.
Flynn was the only surviving member.
Hopefully, having him there would ground them into this reality and this place, making sure they could find their way back.
Tristan was pretty sure that if they couldn’t, Flynn would drag them back by sheer force of will. When they were all broken and crazy, Flynn had held them together with that same indomitable will. He was the reason they were still alive today, every last one of them.
He wouldn’t let them down, whether he thought this was a good idea or not.
Mayah took Tristan’s hand, and he instantly felt their connection. He hoped she couldn’t feel the sadness and regret that had been growing in him all afternoon.
Or the fear. Not fear of what might happen to him. Fear that it would happen before they could carry out this mission. Before he could help free her from the ghosts that had haunted her for so long.
Because Flynn was right. The state his brain was in, he was starting to think he might not last much longer.
A wave of love came through their connection and washed over him, easing some of his tension. Despite his mood, he felt a small smile come to his face. He looked over at Mayah, and she smiled back.
I love you, she whispered in his mind.
I love you too, Princess, he said. More than you’ll ever know.
Kira took each of their free hands, making a circle.
“Ready, little sister,” she said. “Lead us there.”
Mayah closed her eyes, and they went searching for her ghosts.
For a long minute, there was nothing. Just blackness, and the faint pressure of Mayah’s and Kira’s hands on his.
And then, with a whoosh, they were there in the white hallway that Mayah had described to him so many times.
It was fuzzy and misty, and the figures in the cells were blurred, some of them superimposed on each other.
He heard Kira’s voice in his mind—so strange to hear anyone but Mayah or her dragon.
We’re not really there yet, she said. You’re seeing them at different points in time.
Tristan didn’t understand how she could even do that.
I think some of them are memories and projections, Kira went on. Try to focus on now. Today.