Outback Spirit

by Nicole R. Taylor

  Eloise was shocked at his sudden turn. Her throat tightened as she stood there, taking the hit with well-practiced silence.

  Kyne stormed across the yard and wrenched open the door of his ute. Climbing inside, he slammed it shut and revved the engine. Then he peeled away, the tires spinning and sending red dirt and dust into the air.

  Wally appeared at the rear of the garage, a rag in his hands, and stared after Kyne. “What in the bloody hell?”

  Eloise turned away, her bottom lip trembling as she struggled to hold in her tears.

  “What’s going on?” Hardy’s voice echoed across the yard and she groaned.

  “They had a fight, I think,” Wally said to the vampire. “The part came for the van.”

  “And he shouted at her?”

  Wally grunted.

  “I’ll bloody kill him,” Hardy seethed.

  “Don’t.” Eloise wiped her tears on the arm of her shirt. “Leave it.” The two men were silent as she turned around. “Both our elemental parents abandoned us,” she went on, trying to hold onto her emotions. “It’s a sore point.”

  Hardy narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction of Black Hole Mine.

  Wally scratched his head. “He never did say what happened when he left.”

  Eloise shrugged and waved them off, her suspicions rising. She was beginning to believe Kyne knew more about the elementals than he was letting on.

  Following Hardy’s gaze across the outback, she sighed. Kissing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be if this was what came afterwards.

  Drew huddled in the scrub, his dingo eyes surveying the camp below.

  The Dust Dogs had set up shop in a hollow, the curve of the low rising hills sheltering their camp from the wind. A single dirt track led towards the highway—it was rough going but didn’t stop them from driving in and out with their four-wheel drives and motorbikes.

  The perfect spot for a bunch of dingo shifters was in the middle of nowhere—no unwanted visitors and no law looking in.

  The camp consisted of a dozen patched together shelters made of a mix of wood and corrugated iron. There were several water tanks, two banged up caravans that’d seen better days, the rusted-out shell of a car, several metal drums that served as fire pits, and various other bits of junk, tools, and machine parts.

  Drew had run with the Dust Dogs for a few months before realising they were into more than just petty crime, but by then, it was too late to get out with his nose clean. He knew too much.

  It wasn’t just theft they were into, but hunting. They’d harass travellers, stockmen on the neighbouring cattle station, livestock, and anyone and anything that came onto their territory, which was just a baseless claim of land that had no standing with the law. The Dust Dogs answered to a natural law, not those handed down by humans. That’s what made them dangerous. They were armed, savage, and wild. Solace didn’t stand a chance if they decided to ride into town, guns blazing.

  Drew watched the camp for an hour, counting the dingo shifters, watching for familiar faces, and looking for clues. So far, they’d just made threats and it hadn’t come to blows, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. That severed head they’d delivered to Vera was the final straw.

  What he couldn’t quite work out was how much they knew about the thing he stole. Coen had made sure Drew knew how important it was, but did they?

  He looked up as he sensed movement behind him, and his dingo eyes took in the large man and the cricket bat in his hands.

  Shit.

  “You should never have come here, mate,” the Dust Dog said before he swung.

  The bat slammed into Drew’s head, sending him flying. He rolled down the hill, his body smashing and scraping against rock as the barbed spinifex grass tore open his flesh. Coming to a stop, his paws scrambled, but before he could scurry away, another man grabbed him, his hands clamping around his snout as someone else grabbed his middle.

  Drew thrashed, but no matter how hard he struggled, they wouldn’t let go.

  “Get him in the cage!” someone bellowed.

  More Dust Dogs emerged from the camp, coming to see what all the noise was about. As Drew was flung into a metal cage, they shouted and catcalled in triumph.

  The blow to his head loosened his grip on his dingo shape and he was forced to change, his bones snapping and elongating as the Dust Dogs hollered and howled. The cage was small, the closeness of the rusted metal forcing him to draw his knees up underneath his chin. Naked, Drew shivered, his cuts stinging as his flesh settled over his human body.

  The men grabbed the bars of the cage and shook it violently, howling and snapping at him like rabid beasts. He hit his head and his wounds split open even further, but he took the pain without a sound.

  How had he ever run with these dingoes and thought it was right? Being a lone dog was better than this pack of animals, despite the gaping hole in his chest. At least he could hold onto his humanity.

  He thought about Vera and the other Exiles in Solace as the Dust Dogs harassed him. When he didn’t show up in the morning, Vera would just think he was breaking yet another promise and write him off. No one was coming, but it didn’t matter. If he died, he’d take his secret to his shallow grave and the Dust Dogs would never recover the key.

  “Shut the hell up!” a familiar voice roared. “Get the bloody hell back!”

  Drew looked up as an ugly, fat shadow fell over the cage. The last man he ever wanted to see was glaring down at him with unmasked hatred.

  Craig Roth—the alpha of the Dust Dogs—carried an air of danger that sent an unexpected wave of fear through Drew’s chest. Standing at over six-foot-four, bald, and heavily tattooed, Roth was a wall of muscle and had the unwavering loyalty of every dingo in the camp. He was bloodthirsty and heartless and would tear Dew apart to get what he wanted…no matter what shape he took.

  In other words, Drew was up shit creek without a paddle.

  It was that moment he realised he was never going to fix anything. His entire life had been one screw up after another, and now he’d dragged the Exiles into it. The one time he’d tried to do the right thing, he’d done it all wrong. Finn was right about him. Drew was dumb as dog shit.

  “I knew if we waited long enough, you’d come crawling back,” Roth said in his gravelly voice. He knelt in front of the cage, his brown eyes burning through his prey. “One little shove in the right direction and your dumb arse would try and do something heroic to save that witch whore you love so much.”

  Drew said nothing. He was definitely not in the position to push his luck.

  “Screw her yet?” the alpha asked. “Shove her face down and—”

  Drew snarled, lunging at the bars. He stretched his arms through the gaps, clawing at Roth, but he was just out of reach.

  The Dust Dogs laughed, shouting foul things and making lewd gestures.

  Roth held up his fist and they fell silent. “You can stop all of this, Drew. We took you in when the other packs turned their backs on you.”

  “What other packs?” Drew snarled. “There are no other packs.”

  “There’s plenty,” Roth told him. “But the one you’re looking for…” He smirked and licked his lips. “Have you ever tasted dingo blood?” Drew said nothing, grinding his teeth. “When you fight and tear another shifter apart in the heat of the hunt?”

  Drew’s parents were dead. They were dead and his grandfather had been the last of their pack until he’d died of old age. His pack was gone. His gaze narrowed as Roth smirked.

  “You’re not too bright, kid, but you’ll get it eventually.”

  Drew began shake, his fury threatening to bring out his dingo side. His pack. His family. The Dust Dogs were responsible. They’d killed them all.

  He lunged at the bars again, his shoulder scraping against metal as he reached for Roth. He’d tear him apart.

  “Leave him here to fry,” Roth snarled. “Tonight we’ll have a proper chat. We’ll settle it with pack rules.”

&
nbsp; The men hollered and high-fived each other, clearly excited by the news. As they backed off, a couple of men rattled Drew’s cage as a parting gift, sending him into a frenzy. But nothing he did would get him out until Roth ordered it. The alpha’s word was law.

  Even if Drew gave the Dust Dogs what they wanted, he was as good as dead, and Solace would be next. His only chance was to fight.

  He breathed deeply, his chest heaving. When the sun set, he would face Roth in the circle, and he’d need every scrap of energy he could get.

  Chapter 19

  Vera was in a spin when Eloise walked into the Outpost.

  Boxes and plastic shrink wrap littered the aisles, and she was hurrying back and forth, in and out of the stockroom. The truck had long gone by this stage, and she was left to deal with the delivery on her own.

  Eloise frowned, the gash Kyne had opened in her heart still raw and bleeding. At the thought of him, she felt a fresh wave of frustrated tears. Then she breathed deeply and instantly regretted it.

  “Something smells funky in here,” Eloise said, wrinkling her nose. “Is one of the freezers on the fritz?”

  “Are you serious?” Vera declared from the aisle. “I thought I’d gotten rid of the smell. I’ve dumped an entire can of air freshener in the place. It should smell like an ocean breeze.”

  “An ocean breeze downwind of a sewer,” she told her. “Is there a magical solution?”

  The witch shrugged. “I could cook something up, but I don’t like to rely on magic too much.” Emerging from a stack of boxes, she fussed behind the counter and pulled out packet of incense and a wooden holder shaped like an elephant. “This’ll have to do.”

  “Please don’t tell me that’s patchouli.”

  “What do you have against patchouli?” She thought about it for a moment and laughed. “Well, it’s not, but it’s the next best thing. Sandalwood. Good for protection and exorcisms.”

  Eloise didn’t want to know what she was exorcising.

  When she’d lit the incense, Vera paused and peered at her. “What’s wrong?”

  Eloise flushed. “Nothing.”

  “Your mascara is smeared.”

  “I got something in my eye.”

  “Both of them?”

  “Yeah.” Eloise shrugged. “It’s dusty out there.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.” The witch snorted. Her rings clacked together as she waved her hands at the burning incense, sending the thin tendril of smoke billowing across the front of the shop.

  Eloise knew enough about Vera to know the witch wouldn’t let up until she had the truth, so she caved to save herself the pressure. “Kyne and I had a fight just now. He took off to his mine, I suppose.”

  Vera’s expression softened. “Ah, that parcel was for your van.”

  “Wally’s starting on the engine tomorrow.”

  “He’s a pretty good mechanic… Fast, too.”

  “Kyne asked me to stay. Hardy wants me to as well, and Wally…” She was torn between the call of the open road and the friends she’d made in Solace. They were her friends, right?

  Vera was lost in thought for a moment. “Kyne’s been helping you with your powers, right?”

  Eloise nodded.

  “Then I’m assuming he told you how you came to be. About your parentage?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded again.

  “And how do you feel about it?”

  “I’m more concerned with my adopted parents, whose brains I accidentally fried.”

  Vera sighed and looked out the window, but the road was empty of travellers and townsfolk. They were alone. “When Kyne left, he told me we was going to find his father.”

  Eloise hesitated. “His…elemental father?”

  “That was all he ever told me. He was gone a couple of months, but when he finally came back…” She didn’t have to say it out loud. He was different. “Whatever he found wasn’t good. He went out to that mine of his, his powers lost, and dug in that mine for weeks. Mining is dangerous with the right equipment, but on his own without magic…?” Vera shook her head. “He was an insufferable bastard. Grumpy, indifferent, didn’t want anything to do with us.”

  Eloise frowned, her heart heavier than ever. Kyne’s powers had only come back when she’d arrived. He’d saved them from the cave-in, discovered a treasure trove of black opal, and had found purpose again. Now her van was on the verge of being fixed, giving her a way to leave Solace. Chuck in the stuff about his father and it was no wonder he’d blown up at her.

  “Why wouldn’t he tell me?” she wondered.

  “Don’t take it personally,” Vera replied. “He probably doesn’t want to disappoint you.” Her expression soured. “Besides, he hasn’t even tried to kiss me.”

  Eloise spluttered and her eyes winded. “How…?”

  “An educated guess,” the witch said with a smirk. She picked up the incense stick and swirled it through the air. “Can you still smell that stink?”

  “Uh…” Eloise sniffed, “not as much.”

  “Good. It reminds me of Drew and his wet dingo stench.”

  Eloise let out a gasp and slapped her hand against her forehead. “I can’t believe I’ve been chewing off your ear about my problems and I haven’t even asked you how you feel about Drew.”

  Vera shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I needed a distraction from him and his issues.”

  Eloise hesitated, but her curiosity got the better of her. “What are his…issues?”

  “He got messed up with the Dust Dogs and—” Vera pursed her lips. “You know he took something from them, right?”

  “Yeah,” Eloise said. “I heard.”

  “He said he did it to protect us. Solace.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” the witch drawled. “Along with ‘what’.”

  Eloise was confused as hell. “What could a bunch of biker dingoes want out here? Air conditioning?”

  “In the supernatural world, it could be anything,” Vera replied. “Anything at all.” She pointed down the aisle before Eloise could ask anything else. “You here to help?”

  “Yeah, Hardy doesn’t need me.”

  “Thank the Lord,” the witch exclaimed and headed back down the closest aisle. “I’ve put out the boxes where they need to be put on the shelves. Just shove them on there, but make sure to put the new ones in the back. I need to sell the old stuff first before they go out of date.”

  “Got it.” Eloise picked up a box, pressed the edge in, and tore the tape from the cardboard. Putting the canned soup onto the shelf, she was careful to rotate the new stuff to the back, but her thoughts were muddied with Kyne and the imminent repair of her van.

  There was no way of knowing if she could fix the damage she’d done to her adopted parents’ minds. Besides, she had no roots. No home, no place to return to. She lived wherever the road took her, which wasn’t a bad place to be, but it sure could get lonely sometimes.

  Could Solace be her home? What about Kyne? Eloise wasn’t sure he would want to talk to her after their argument, but if she wanted to try to have a life and a relationship, she couldn’t back down.

  Eloise would have to suck it up and go out to Black Hole Mine.

  Drew was let out of the cage after the sun had set. Darkness wrapped the edges of the Dust Dog’s camp like a dense blanket, the glow from their fires blotting out the stars.

  He was dragged naked, burned, and bleeding as the dingo shifters circled the clearing in the centre of the patchwork buildings. They’d lined their motorcycles up in a large ring, their headlights on high beam, casting long, menacing shadows.

  Drew was shoved down and he landed hard. Pushing up onto his knees, he spat dirt as a pair of bare feet stood before him.

  “Get up,” Roth snarled.

  The Dust Dogs circled them, shouting for blood. Some of them were human and some in their dingo shapes, but all were howling just the same.

  Drew glared up at Roth and rose, his
body screaming in pain. The alpha was shirtless, the only thing he wore was a pair of battered blue jeans. His chest was covered in scars that bore a warning for what was to come. The guy had fought for leadership and it’d almost cost him his life—his puckered flesh a reminder of how far he was willing to go to keep it.

  “We can make this hard, easy, or fun,” Roth said. “Your pick.”

  Drew knew the fun choice wouldn’t be a good time for him, neither would the easy. The hard, even less. The only way out of this was to challenge for leadership, a fight he sorely wanted to win, but they’d made sure he wasn’t fit for it. He needed a miracle, but Vera wasn’t expecting him until morning. For the first time since he’d met the witch, he hoped she’d break her promise.

  “Yeah, nah,” Drew drawled, wiping his crusty bloodied nose with the back of his hand. “I’m good.”

  “We know about Solace, boy,” Roth rasped. “We know what they’re protecting.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “The seal.”

  Drew snorted. “It’s a bloody rock.”

  Roth’s smirk widened. “The real prize is underneath it.”

  “Then why haven’t you taken Solace?” he asked with a sneer. “What are you so afraid of?”

  The alpha snarled and flexed his fingers.

  Good going, moron, Drew thought. Go and insult their testosterone levels. You’re just aching for a bullet.

  Still, they hadn’t taken over Solace, so they had to be afraid of something. Was it Hardy and his vampire strength? Kyne, the elemental? Wally was more powerful as a wolf. Hell, was it Vera? It didn’t matter anyway. Without the key, the seal was useless, and Drew was the only one who knew where it was. He’d stolen it, after all.

  “He’s made his choice!” Roth roared to the Dust Dogs. “It’s time for fun, boys!”

  Drew tensed as Roth’s fist flew at his face. Knuckles collided with his left eye socket and stars prickled his vision as he fell to the ground. Blood dripped from his split eyebrow and stung his eyes, but he refused to make a sound.