by Michele Ryan
Ezra placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll do it together then. You won’t be alone.”
She gave him a small smile. “I’d be grateful.”
“This won’t be easy,” Omer stated. “I fear it might be quite treacherous.”
“Well, at least we’re used to it around here,” Ezra answered.
A tap at the window drew his attention. Mr. Tinnin stood there, staring at them. A cigar hung out of the corner of his mouth. The usual white shirt he wore had been discarded, exposing his massive form to the women in the room. Healed stab wounds and puckered bullet scars marred his flesh. The man though deranged didn’t deserve the pain he endured more often than not.
Annabelle released the latch, opening the window. “Good evening, Mr. Tinnin.”
The big man lowered himself. “Good evenin’ luv. There’s someone—a wee bit of a thing and a woman heading this way.”
A knock came at the door moments later. No one came to the house. Or hadn’t. Since Annabelle moved into the mansion things had grown...complicated. The soft murmurings of Miss Jemmy gave way to the excited chatter of a boy-child. No. It can’t be. The sound of quickened footsteps, filtered down the hall before the kitchen door swung open and the excited exclamation of, “Dad,” came from the child.
Grant. Ezra caught the wriggling mess of his son. Why in the world was he there? A few moments later, Miss Jemmy appeared with Miss Dell, Grant’s grandmother. Rage clawed at his insides. His son never left pack lands, his mother, the she-beast who trapped Ezra in his forsaken form, forbade it. How did they get there? How did they get away without Marbella giving chase?
“Whoa, Dad!” Grant climbed out of Ezra’s arms. “They’re all here. Grandmother, do you see? They’re all here!” He went to Mr. Tinnin first. “You’re him.” He stuck his hand out the window. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tinnin and Dr. Brew, I’m Grant Howell Blakely.”
The deranged fellow appeared taken aback by the forwardness of Ezra’s son. “Evenin’ boyo.” He took the boy’s hand in a light grip.
Grant then turned his attention to Jonah. “You’re the leader here. Mr. McRae, Jonah McRae. You’re a vampire and this...” Grant’s lips curled into the biggest smile Ezra had ever seen on the boy’s face. “Is your Beloved, Miss Annabelle Craig.”
“Well aren’t you a fountain of knowledge,” Annabelle teased.
Then, he spotted Clara. Grant went straight to her and bowed like a proper gentleman. “It is a pleasure, Miss Fitzpatrick. I am honored to meet you.”
Clara placed her hand to her chest before curtseying to the young boy. “The pleasure is all mine, young sir. It seems you have taken us all off guard by your appearance and your acceptance.”
Grant blushed. “I know all of you. My grandmother has told me all about your adventures. One story a night before bed.” The boy grew very serious as he leaned in. “Did you really fight a horde of zombies?”
“We did,” Andres said from across the room where he sipped his tea while giving Ezra a pointed glare. “You didn’t tell us about young master Grant, Mr. Blakely.”
Ezra rubbed the back of his neck. “Protecting what’s mine, I suppose. I didn’t want anyone to think they could go after my boy.”
Omer’s form became more corporal. “Well it certainly has been working.”
“Amazing,” Grant whispered. “Are you really as old as my grandmother says?”
Omer’s lips twitched. “Perhaps much older.”
“Where are the others?” Grant glanced at his father. “There are a few missing.”
“They are out tonight, protecting the city,” Annabelle answered. “Can’t leave London unprotected, can we?”
Grant shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
Miss Dell cleared her throat and gave Ezra a pointed look. “Is there somewhere Grant may sit while we speak?”
“I’ll help settle Master Grant in the library,” Miss Jemmy said. “Come along, young master Blakely.”
Grant held up his hand. “Wait.” He scanned the room then seemed to settle on where he thought perhaps someone sat or stood. “Mr. Enright, will it be okay if I share your library for the night?”
Emmitt sat forward from the corner near the fireplace. A bit of shock filled his features. “It would be my privilege, Mr. Grant.”
“Thank you.” Grant wrapped his arms around Ezra. “I missed you, Dad.”
“I missed you too, boy. Do as Miss Jemmy says; and I’ll be to see you in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.” He turned from Ezra and gave a final wave. “It’s an honor to meet all of you.”
Grant took Miss Jemmy’s hand and exited the room. The sound of his excited chattered echoed down the hall until they were alone once more. The curious looks his teammates gave him would have to be addressed first. He opened his mouth, but Dell beat him to it.
“I had to bring him here, Mr. Blakely,” Dell said. “His mother...”
The scent of sorrow and anguished rolled off of her in sickening waves. Omer was by her side in a blink of an eye. He guided her into a chair then placed a cup of tea in her hand. “Tell us, Miss...”
“McIntire,” Dell answered.
“Miss McIntire, what happened?” Omer stayed close. The ancient had a penchant for helping ease those who were mentally and physically distraught. He could soothe away the fear while giving them a chance to explain why they needed help. Seeing Omer’s work, always left Ezra a bit in awe of him. Tonight, unfortunately, he wanted to break shit.
“I had gone to the meat market to buy the boy something for dinner. When I returned...” Dell cried. “Mr. Blakely, I had no idea this was going on. Had I, I would have brought Grant to you months ago.”
“What was happening,” Omer hedged, glancing between Ezra and Dell.
“Grant is still a little boy,” Dell whispered. “He doesn’t understand his reaction to...things. Marbella is taking advantage.”
“Oh God,” Annabelle murmured. “Are you sure?”
Dell nodded. “I returned at the tail end of the situation. Grant had been crying. The woman with him seemed thrilled to achieve such a reaction from him.”
“And the body does, what it does, willing or unwilling,” Jonah added with a hint of sadness.
A red haze settled over his vision. He’d fucking kill her. He’d rip her apart. Ezra clenched and unclenched his hands as a low growl built in his chest. How dare the she-beast do this to his son. It was bad enough on the full moon, he serviced all of the females of the pack, but his son? His flesh and blood. No. Never. His boy had been a child. “I’ll kill her.”
“Ezra,” Miss Clara whispered beside him as she placed her hand on his forearm. “I believe you should tend to your son first, don’t you?”
The soft way she spoke to him, cleared away a bit of the fury. “Yes, you’re right.” He looked up to where Mr. Tinnin stared dumbfounded at everyone. “Mr. Tinnin, may the good doctor come back and evaluate my son, make sure he’s physically healthy?”
It took the monster a second to process Ezra’s words. “Yes, yes of course. Ratty bitch deserves a slow death. It would do my soul good to extend the hand of help to you.”
“I appreciate the offer, but for now, I need Dr. Brew, sir.”
“Of course,” Mr. Tinnin answered. “At once.” None of them, especially Ezra had ever seen the deranged fellow agree so readily. He usually fought giving back over to Jerome much harder. Did he have a heart after all? Or at least a conscience? “He will be in the library with Miss Jemmy and young master Blakely.”
Clara squeezed his arm. “I believe I will bring him some cookies and a bit of warm milk. Would you care to join me, Annabelle?”
“Yes,” she answered, standing. “I would.” She stopped in front of Ezra. “Take the time you need to work this anger out. Don’t let your son see it. He’ll think it is directed at him, even though we all know who it is truly for.”
“Thank you, Miss Annabelle. I appreciate all of you.”
&nbs
p; The women left with the exception of Dell. He loved the older woman. She’d been Marbella’s human mother before Marbella became whatever she’d turned into over the years. He guessed though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. She’d always been a sadistic bitch. Anything she could use to get ahead, she would. It would seem it also included his—their son. He couldn’t get the image of his little boy being tortured such. It made him sick to his stomach.
“How long,” he whispered.
Dell opened her mouth, then hesitated. “Since after the horde.”
The icy tendrils of dread slid down his spine. “Has it ever taken?”
She shook her head. “No. Not that I am aware of.”
A bit of the constriction around his throat eased and he could swallow once more. “Good. Good.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay here, Miss McIntire,” Emmitt announced. “Both of you will be quite safe, and the boy has space to run if he needs.”
“Yes, I agree,” Omer said. “It would be best.”
“If the boy needs to talk,” Andres stated, surprising Ezra with the ease in which he said the words. “I am here as well. Whatever he needs it will be taken care of. The same for you, Miss McIntire.” The usually jovial man appeared quite stricken by the idea of what happened to Grant. Ezra had never seen such a sight.
“For now,” Omer murmured. “Why don’t you and Miss Clara begin tonight’s exploration of the park, and we will help Miss McIntire and young master Blakely get settled. When you return, I am sure Dr. Brew will have his assessment for you as well.”
Yes, work. He needed to clear his head. He had to wrap his mind around the thought of what Marbella had done to their son. It was bad enough he went through it every month, but he’d be damned if Grant would ever... A low growl built in his throat. “I need to go. I have to focus on something other than this or I fear I will do things I’ll regret tomorrow.”
As if on cue, Miss Clara appeared at the mouth of the kitchen. “I am ready, Ezra. We’ll do this together.”
His gaze met hers and he swore his heart slowed, his mind cleared, and a bit of his soul sighed in relief. He didn’t know if it was him doing it or maybe Omer or the witch herself, but it helped. “Together.” He strode to her and took the hand she’d stretched out to him. “Omer, please contact me if anything should happen.”
The ancient man nodded. “I shall, Mr. Blakely. Concentrate on the mission. We will be here for your family.”
“Good evening,” Ezra grunted before heading out with Clara. If he ran into Marbella this night, he didn’t know if he’d have the control necessary to keep from injuring her. He snorted, drawing Clara’s attention. “Sorry.”
Who was he kidding? Marbella would die at Ezra’s hands if came too close this night. There were no if ands or buts about it.
“Focus, Ezra,” she murmured. “Later, we’ll figure out the best way to torture Grant’s mother.”
Fuck, he loved Clara. His mind stilled. Did he love her? Ezra glanced at the petite mistress of the house. He’d follow her to ends of the world if it meant being able to stay in her presence. The idea of loving someone, before, scared him. Could they accept the man and the beast within him? If not, then what? However, with Miss Clara, he didn’t have those fears or dilemmas. She assisted a monster hunter, been a witch herself and fought beside him in both his human and wolf form. Yes, he supposed, he did love the woman, even if he couldn’t verbally acknowledge it. “Yes, ma’am.”
Coming Soon
The Wolf’s Pewter Priestess: Dreadfuls Series 2 (Summer 2018)
The Copper Spyglass Nursery: Dreadfuls Series 2.5 (Late Summer 2018)
Author Bios
TL Reeve, a multi-published/International Bestselling author, was born out of a love of family and a bond that became unbreakable. Living in Alabama, TL misses Los Angeles, and will one day return to the beaches of Southern California to ride the waves at Huntington Beach. When not writing something hot and sexy, TL can be found curled up with a good book or working on homework with a cute little pixie.
Michele Ryan is a multi-published/International Bestselling author. She has embraced her creative passion and co-authored several books with fellow author and best friend TL Reeve and has also published two solo novellas. She is a lifelong resident of the state of New Jersey, along with her husband and three children, whom she refers to as her hobbits. When Michele is not plotting or writing, she can be found either volunteering at her children’s school or reading.