Authors: Stacey Brutger
BloodSworn (34 page)
A
commotion at the other end of the room erupted. The boy. She knew it
even before she saw his face. Five women surrounded him, heckling and caressing
him. He stood there, a frozen smile plastered in place, tolerating the touch.
Tolerating but not enjoying.
Then he flinched. His smile became strained, the
women’s laughter more wild. The boy’s eyes hardened but he kept still, enduring
the obscene fondling and cruel taunts.
She scanned the crowd. A few people snickered at his
discomfort, a few looked away, pity leeching the life from their eyes. But no
one protested.
Then the man who had accompanied the boy stood to his
full height. The muscles of her back loosened, and she eased back into her
seat, unaware she’d half risen to her feet. The big man would keep him safe.
But instead of rescuing the boy, the Ogre turned his back and pushed his way to
the bar.
A lump grew in her throat at the unwanted attention
the boy endured. Memories of similar situations from her past cut into her
mind, blurring reason until fury burned along her face.
Stillness settled inside her, burying everything but
the need to do something, the need to prevent the past from repeating itself.
Before she knew what she was doing, she moved.
The closer she came, the more she sensed his
unwillingness and his resignation. She stopped outside the circle of women.
Their gazes collided. Recognition sparked, and his gaze latched on to hers.
Pleaded.
It was a mistake coming here tonight, but she couldn’t
leave without knowing he’d be safe. Couldn’t stop herself from rescuing him.
“He’s mine.” She reached through the circle of women,
clamped down on his wrist and pulled him to her side. He came without a word of
complaint, his head lowered, a small smile on his lips that barely lasted a
second. His body trembled slightly before he controlled himself.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A blonde in strappy,
three-inch heels stepped forward, drink in hand and a determined expression on
her face. A woman who always got what she wanted.
Raven wasn’t impressed. “We’re leaving.”
As she turned, herding the boy in front of her, the
woman’s talons dug into her arm.
Reacting on instinct, Raven spun and thrust out her
palm, slamming her hand into the blonde’s chest, releasing some of the pent-up
power that swirled inside in response to her anger.
The impact lifted the woman off her feet. She sailed
over the table, one heel flying. Her mouth dropped open in moue of surprise,
while her drink spun and sprayed her friends.
Conversation slowed, people turned. No one touched the
woman as she staggered to her feet. Raven braced herself and scanned the crowd.
No one stepped forward to detain her or the boy.
“Is there a problem?”
Tiger.
He broke through the wall of people who circled the
small group. Broad shouldered, lean but roped with muscles, he easily drew
attention to him and it had nothing to do with the elegant clothes or wildly
untamed mane of hair. The combination should’ve looked ridiculous but only
succeeded in making him appear all the more dominant.
It gave him a dangerous air. An aura of bored
arrogance seeped from him, but Raven knew differently. Power thrummed beneath
his skin at his annoyance for being disturbed. The beast roamed close to the
surface even in his human form.
“No, sir. The lady here claimed me, and Miss Jackie
objected.”
“A challenge?” The tiger’s eyes sharpened in the muted
light, his attention never leaving her face. He brushed against her shields,
then shoved against them as if surprised to find resistance. The intensity
increased, seeking a weakness. Her eyes narrowed. Usually only vampires or very
powerful alphas had such strong mental ability.
Protocol dictated certain rules, and he broke them by
probing her without permission. They both knew it if his sudden, impudent smile
was anything to go by. If he pushed harder, she’d retaliate. She refused to let
him enter her mind, refused to let him harvest all her secrets. It was too
dangerous for either of them.
When he persisted, she twisted a strand of energy
around his shields, using tremendous control to surround him instead of
breaking through. Then she slowly tightened her hold. She let it rest there,
let him feel her perusal, the threat. Her fingers trembled. Her stomach flopped
like a fish out of water. It took everything she had to hold back more power
and ignore the dangerous lure to crush the threat.
Then his aura fluctuated, rubbed against her own
shield in a way that sent a shiver down her spine in a very pleasant way. Her
blood heated, and she could almost swear she felt a purr from her core. From
the startled look and the aroused flush to his face, the reaction wasn’t
something he’d anticipated either.
Then he relented and retreated, bowing slightly in
deference. “Please forgive my rudeness. I’m Jeffrey Durant, manager of
Talon’s.”
She reeled in the string of energy, suppressing the
unholy need to curse. A formal greeting. Rules of the pack dictated she reply
in kind, supply her name at the very least, and the bastard knew it. She had to
work with shifters. She couldn’t piss in the pond just because she didn’t want
to do something. “Raven–”
“Do you know who I am?” Like a yippy little dog, the
blonde charged forward, red blotches of anger coloring her face. Her eyes
shimmered a yellowish-green with her emotions, but quickly reverted back to mud
brown.
Part shifter.
A weak one.
Most males could shift no matter what percentage of
animal DNA they possessed, but the women had to be at least half shifter for
their animal to take form. That meant Raven could take this little dog.
Raven adjusted her stance, keeping the kid at her back
and met the threat, damning herself for being a sucker. “I don’t give a shit. I
know all I need.”
“Oh, do tell.” The rumpled blonde crossed her arms and
smirked. “This should be good.”
“You’re too weak to be a pure blood. Not even quarter,
if I had to guess. You surround yourself with people who are weaker so you have
someone who looks up to you. You enjoy abusing the very people you’re supposed
to be protecting.”
A fist flew at her face, and Raven caught it mid-air.
Anger allowed her to easily lower the blonde’s arm. She lifted her chin,
relieved to know she’d guessed right. If the woman had been a true shifter, her
jaw would’ve been crushed. “Are you issuing a challenge?”
A slight murmur went through the crowd. It was the
only thing she could think of to get them out of there fast. A challenge meant
more than possession of the boy, it meant pack position and a fight to the
death. Jackie would die. Raven would see to it. Although she relished a certain
poetic
justice if she let the little wolf live. It
would force the bimbo to the bottom of the pack, where she’d have to earn her
place in the hierarchy. And something told Raven it wouldn’t be so easy to step
over the very people she’d been treating like servants.
Fury darkened the woman’s eyes, the brown splintered
and specks of yellow appeared, then vanished as fast as they came.
“No.” She spit out the one word, a promise of
retribution for this humiliation dancing in her eyes.
Giddiness trickled through Raven. Her unique gift
remained secret. She’d been foolish to risk it over a boy. The need for fresh
air pressed heavily against her, effectively caging her without the use of
bars. She faced the tiger and raised a brow, doing her damndest to exude a calm
she wasn’t feeling. “Then I believe I’m free to leave?”
A charming smile curled his lips, but the intent stare
reminded her of his animal form. He was hunting.
And she was his prey.
“There’s no rush.” He edged closer.
Raven countered quickly, pulling the boy close to her
back. “Nor is there a reason to stay.”
The beautiful way he moved drew her gaze, hypnotic and
beguiling.
“Except to get to know one another.” The tone of his
voice was deep and soothing. So inviting. The beasts at her core inched forward
in curiosity.
A movement in the crowd snapped her to attention. The
Ogre. Then the tiger’s words registered, leaving a trail of cold in its wake.
Clever kitty. She’d bet he lulled many people the same way, using that luscious
voice, subtle movements and just the lick of wildness to lure them to him.
“I think not.” Though she tried to rein it in, power
burned along her arms at the thought of being held against her will. The beasts
retreated, leaving all that power behind along with the dangerous urge to
release it. The leather she wore usually protected those nearest her, but
direct touch couldn’t mute the effects. Not even wearing gloves kept those
around her completely safe when her dander was up.
The boy sucked in a sharp breath, and she quickly
dropped her hand from him. She refused to look behind her, but she didn’t need
to. She could see everything in the tiger’s reaction. The way he tensed
slightly, the way his eyes flickered back and forth between her and the boy.
The crowd drew closer, pressing in on her from all
sides, stealing the air around her.
She needed to leave.
The music grew louder, the lights brighter.
A bulb popped, glass shattered. Three more blew in
rapid succession.
She took off at a run, dodging through the crowd,
ignoring the shouts. The tiger quickly closed the gap between them. She could
feel his breath against the back of her neck. Desperate for space, she thrust a
burst of current into the crowd. A mass of confusion ensued as everyone
received a nasty shock and started shoving one another. Lights flickered,
plunging them in darkness. Electricity lashed out of the floor and up into her
feet, the charge filling her with power.
She slammed into the door, out into the night and took
off at a dead run. She should’ve known better than to be seduced into entering
a slave auction by some innocent needing her help. She had a hard enough time
staying out of trouble without the need to borrow someone else’s. She just
prayed no one could tie this whole, rotten evening back to her or there would
be no end of trouble to land on her doorstep.
B
lood trickled from a gash, coating the rough
surface of stone beneath Caly’s fingers. Warming it. Pulling her arm back, she
ignored the cut and parted the vines.
And caught a glimpse of stone.
Spreading the vegetation further, she stilled when powerful
thighs filled her gaze. The voices of the men arguing disappeared in the
background as she tilted her head back and looked up.
A black beetle so large it had to be on steroids paused
climbing the statue and flicked a perturbed glance at her. With a little hiss
for disturbing him, the little critter launched itself in the air with a
flutter of wings. She flinched, bowed backwards to miss being hit in the face.
And met the open-eyed stare of a statue, a man forever
captured in time. All thoughts of bugs vanished. Caly’s lips parted, her eyes
widened and her breath stuttered out of her mouth.
There was a God.
The man—and from her view kneeling on the moss covered
ground, he was most definitely a man—was absolutely gorgeous. Not in the normal
sense, not by Hollywood standards. Prominent cheekbones, a full, sharp nose and
a strong jaw kept his face from being too feminine.
Desire twisted through her, and a deep yearning tightened
her chest. A bubble of hope swelled. This was a man she could depend on to not
let her down. When she looked at him, the chaos inside that defined most of her
life settled.
She felt normal.
Reality crashed over her, settling heavily on her shoulders.
Desire for a damn statue. How ironic she could be attracted to stone when live
men left her cold. But here, in the middle of nowhere, she found a man who
turned her on like nobody else, and he wasn’t real. It was enough to make her
cry.
Little details filtered into her brain. A thrill of
excitement thrummed under her skin. The answers she sought about her condition
were stuck in the past; she only had to uncover the clues.
This was why she came here, what quieted her protests
against the mission, all for the chance to learn if there was a possibility for
her to be human again. To find a way to finally destroy the demon infection
that had taken root and flourished in her body. Each time the darkness opened
up in her, the harder it became to fight. The more she wondered why she fought
it at all.
The mission forgotten, Caly took her time to catalog each
odd detail, a dark thrill brushed against the edge of her awareness. The statue
wasn’t what she’d come to expect from this region. Instead of native garb, the
grey stone man had chiseled, close fitted pants. Two inch carved straps
crisscrossed his chest, appearing to almost dig into the stone. His long hair,
wild with waves, was tied back from his face.
Her fingers twitched to run her hands over him. Though his
complexion was tinged green with age, the fierce expression drew her gaze
instead of repelling her. The turn of his lips was anything but sensual, yet
their full form made her think of sex and what a man could do with a mouth like
his.
Strong shoulders led down to a lean, sculptured chest. His
open shirt did little to disguise his physique. The statue shouldn’t have
impressed her, but it was as if the stone called to her. She had to curl her
fingers into a fist to resist touching him. A streak of light filtered through
the canopy, wavered a moment then illuminated him like an offering. Something
just for her and no one else.
As she watched, she swore his chest moved to breathe. It
took a physical effort to pull her gaze away, regulate her breathing, and
longer to tuck away the desire to stake claim. The weird light faded, and her
focus came to rest on a knife strapped to his right side. The fifteen-inch
dagger rested close to his body, the curved handle arched up, wrapping along
his ribs. What drew her interest was the intricate design etched along the
outside of the scabbard and handle. It was too detailed for any stone crafting
of the time. Or it should have been.
Absorbed in the discovery, she leaned forward for a better
look. It reminded her of something important, but she couldn’t put her finger
on it.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, jolting her attention
back to her surroundings, leaving her guts in her throat.
“Did you find anything of interest?”
Oscar.
Shit.
“No.” The protest rose automatically to her lips. Her
fascination with the statue triggered her unease again. Especially the way it so
completely made her forget her surroundings and the mission.
It took more force than she liked to drop her hands to her
sides. A hand she hadn’t even known she’d raised. The vines swung inward, the
statue disappeared from sight, and her stomach dropped. Caly honestly didn’t
know if her reaction was due more to the fact she messed up or because the
statue was no longer under her watchful eye.
She had an awful, sinking feeling it was the latter.
“Nothing of interest.” Guilt caused her to flush, but she
didn’t want the old man to find the statue, feeling protective of the stupid
thing. She tried to tell herself she was overreacting, but her mind didn’t
agree. She held her ground, waiting for him to move away.
The contest of wills broke when, with his usual vigor, Oscar
leaned past her and yanked on the vines. Vegetation shredded, bruised leaves
drifting abandoned to the ground. Bold and savage, her statue faced forward, a
sentinel frozen in time, waiting to be awakened.
She swore that Oscar instinctively knew what she wanted and
made sure she never received it. In her peripheral vision, she watched him
circling the stone, but once he disappeared from view, he disappeared from her
thoughts as well.
One step forward, then two, she stood only inches away from
temptation, her palms itching for just one touch. She stole a quick glance at
the statue from under her lashes, then forced herself to turn away and put
him…it out of her mind. The urge to linger pulled at her sense of duty. The
simple task to turn and walk away was surprisingly hard, especially since she’d
dedicated her life to her work.
“You know what it is.” Oscar’s low growl didn’t have its
normal bite, yet the tone stiffened the muscles of her back.
Caly refused to face him, refused to let him see the fear in
her eyes. Fear for the stone man. She swallowed past her painfully dry throat.
“A statue.”
“Don’t be a fool. You know it’s a demon, one of the cursed
guardian statues. Just pray that your blood isn’t human enough to wake him. If
the blasted thing wasn’t mounted in granite, I’d have it smashed.”
The lash of his words stung, but the threat to the statue
sent a surge of terror through her. And that pissed her off. She opened her
mouth to protest when a jungle cat’s roar rang out and echoed in the treetops.
Caly whipped her head around, her eyes narrowing at the
undergrowth. At first she didn’t see anything. After a moment, two eyes blinked
lazily, staring back at her as a big ass cat licked its muzzle. A chill crept
down her spine. A twitch of muscles betrayed her abhorrence of the creatures.
There was nothing behind those eyes but pure predator. No
hunger, but a need and desire to kill for the pleasure of it.
“Skins!” Possessions were when a demon took over a body.
Skins were when demons forced the actual soul out of the body and used them as
indestructible suits that only a beheading would free the demon and allow it to
be killed.
Even as she bellowed the warning, the guides screamed like
kids and took off. A streak to the left broke her concentration, and she saw
another animal, a black panther, bound after the two men. Their bloodcurdling
screams were cut off abruptly, leaving no doubt to their fate.
The other panther slowly slunk out of its hiding place, its
eyes locked on her.
A sound to her right had the big cat’s head swing in that direction.
“Run!”
