Feral Passion (16 page)

Mary could have slapped herself.

It was like high school all over again.

Her mind blank except for how much her
heart hurt and how utterly
stupid
she was, she drove around aimlessly, past her house and, not
even realizing it, to the outskirts of town, more close to the
highway than anything.

She wiped under her eyes jerkily, letting an
angry breath out as she tried to stop herself form crying.

The trembling of her lips didn’t stop,
however.

Unbidden and out of place, the dream from
several nights ago came back, almost over taking the thoughts of
Jacques. The woman...who was she? Mary thought, forcing the
distraction.

Jacques’ hard voice and beautiful eyes would
have to wait, she told herself. Everything about the man would
just...have to wait.

Romero had called her earlier, on her way to
the hospital. He had said something about lavender, Jacques,
and...witches. Her lips twitched with disbelief, once again, as she
pulled into a back road that was just off the ramp of the
highway.

The group crunched under the car, Mary
knowing that she was going to regret doing this once she was back
in town and saw her wheels. Her small Audi wasn’t made for country
road, and wouldn’t fair well after it.

One hand holding her head up, the other
steering the car, Mary drove till she got to the end of the small
gravel road, car continuing to crunch.

For the first time in a couple of days, she
felt her headache start to come on. Whether it was because of
Jacques, the dream, the sound of the car on the ground, or just
whatever it had been since the beginning, she didn’t know and was
glad that she was almost done with the drive.

Mary parked and got out, slowly. Around her
was tall trees, the buds of leaves springing randomly yet
beautifully. The sound of rushing water was soothing to her
pounding headache, and with only a couple of steps she could see,
feel, and absorb the power of the water.

Sitting on the edge, not caring that she was
in the middle of nowhere, cell phone out of service, and taking off
her jacket to be susceptible to the light chill, she slipped her
feet into the water, hands grasping onto the earth beneath her.

A deep sigh, almost a moan, sounded from her
before she fell back into the earth, her body absorbing the energy
and welcoming power of the earth. Tendrils flowed throughout her
body, the ghostly fingers rejuvenating and curing the bone deep
tiredness she was feeling.

Lost in her own world, she was close to going
to sleep, her feet stuck in the freezing water, the ground her bed.
With a shudder, Mary was...peaceful, calm, clear in her mind.

Thoughts of the separation, the dreams, the
man that had managed to hurt her, and the stake that her race was
at, was all gone and all she could feel was the heart of the earth
in her finger tips.

The coldness from her feet was seeping into
her body, freezing the blood in her veins as surely as it would
have had she been in a freezer. Instead of pain, instead of an
ache, it cleansed her.

Healed her.

Looking around her, eyes opening slowly, she
took in the beauty of the world that she missed, had needed. The
responsibly that she had was taking a tole on her, much sooner than
she had expected.

As an Archaeos, it was necessary to have some
sort of way to be...connected with the earth, untainted by
civilization. The connection that an Archaeos needed with the earth
was as needed as humans needed air.

Mary, if she tried hard enough, could summon
parts of the earth to her. Once it had happened, when an ex had
caused her the worst pain she had ever felt at the time. Just a
brief fling, but the taintedness he had made her feel had taken its
tole, almost killed her internally.

Blinking as the energy of the earth continued
to spread across her, she fought tiredness and new it was a lost
cause when a familiar white setting started to take form in her
sleep-drugged mind.

Jacques, the race, the killer...all were
pushed from her mind as she fell deeply into a healing sleep.

~*~

Kevin called to Mary like one would call to a
loyal pet. He knew she was helpless to resist, and knew that the
time to call on her had been right.

His connection with her was so strong, after
years of tending and binding and helping, that he could feel the
energy inside her being restored, feel the pain that she was
struggling to push back.

It wasn’t just...pain, he thought as her form
became more clear beneath him. It was an ache, a wound that was
taking it’s time to heal. The one time he had seen her like this
had been what seemed like ages ago, and he could have killed
Stuart’s Chosen for this. But, Kevin knew that it wasn’t just
Raffaele’s fault. It was Kevin’s as well.

Maybe Stuart had been right, maybe Mary
hadn’t been strong enough for the job that he had so fatally pushed
on her.

Ghostly white hands wrapping around the chair
that he sat in, he awakened her.

“Mary,” he said tonelessly, the vowels and
deepness resonating through the room.

He watched her eyes open, as if they had
never been closed.

“Kevin?” she asked, confused. Like always,
her eyes searched for him. Regretful that he was one of the reasons
that she was in such peril, he spoke once more, without his normal
complaint.

“I am sorry,” he said gravely, hoping she
wouldn’t make it so hard on him. Never before had he bothered to
apologize for anything, it was useless.

Fate was his mistress in many ways. Always
there, without judgement, without...warmth. The word sorry was
unwanted, not applied, to Kevin and his like. To say sorry was to
go against Fate, to demean her of her power and take her for
granted, undermine her.

“What did you do?” she asked, backing away
slowly, voice wary.

He could have chuckled, had he not been so
serious. His Chosen’s life had been ruined because of him, because
of the stress he had put her under.

It didn’t come to him that he might be
over-reacting.

“I have made a mistake,” he said, wishing,
once again, that he could reveal his form to her. A rule of the
Creators; never let the lesser see you. A weakness, to say express
the rule in the least.

Mary was silent, face clearing of all outward
emotion. Although she didn’t know, he could feel the emotions
roiling through her.

Fear.

Nervousness.

Wary.

Awaiting
.

As much as Kevin wished he could for her well
fair, he couldn’t revoke her powers as leader, as a Chosen. Not
only would it ruin the chances of the race--no matter that the fate
of it was already in turmoil-- it would also be the ultimate
embarrassment to Mary and it would take time to groom a new
leader.

His decision?

Stuart and him had agreed on it only a little
while before, but now, after seeing the effect that Raffaele had on
her, he wasn’t completely sure.

Knowing that as a leader, he had to
make decisions that could change peoples lives forever, and
also
knowing that this was completely
against the rules, he listed to her even voice and knew that it was
a facade.

“On what.”

He paused. “Mary, you know that I trust your
decisions, right?” Kevin started, wringing his hands together. When
one was confronting her, it wasn’t normally Mary being the one
nervous. The look that she gave you could chill you for
eternity.

“What happened, Kevin,” she practically
murmured, voice as emotionless as her face. He closed his eyes,
taking a small breath as his chest closed with fear.

She was going to kill him.

But it had to be done.

“You and Raffaele Jacques are going to be
co-leaders. Affective, immediately.”

Chapter 26

His hands itched to reach out, to grab onto
the delicate skin that he knew would be all too easy to mare. The
urge grew so strongly inside him, he shook.

With anger.

With anticipation.

With
excitement.

Breath falling out of his chest in a rush, he
forced himself back into the shadows of the quickly darkening
forest, away from the woman that had been his sole obsession for
what seemed like the beginning of time.

Relaxed, seemingly asleep, her feet lay in
the freezing coldness of the water while the rest of her body lay
prone to his gaze, to his itching hands. Pulling the coat tighter
around him, he let his gaze linger one last time on the softly
moving chest, the coldness making her skin pale, almost purple and
luminescent under the dipped shirt that contained so much that he
wanted to touch beneath.

Turning his gaze from the woman, he hurried
away, quiet fury burning in his veins as he fled from the small
clearing before she awoke to his scent. It had been an arbitrary
move of him, to follow her without bringing anything to disguise
his smell.

It had been a foolish move all around, he
conceded as he started jogging. The farther away he was from her
when she awoke, the better chance he had of not getting
tracked.

While the Archaeos were famous for
their tracking skills, Mary Waters had not yet tapped into the
steaming powers that he could
sense
she had. The vibe of energy, of power, of
raw force
within her was compelling, even to his
tainted blood.

He got into his car hurriedly, wondering when
his souls would notice he was gone, when they would start screaming
for him.

Every time he heard them, he got shivers up
and down his back, so strong it was almost a convulsion that could
bring him to his knees. The screams haunted him, pushed him forward
to carry out what he believed was his duty.

Tainted blood sometimes came with perks, he
thought bitterly as the old 89’ rumbled to life. His teeth gritted
as he started to realize how utterly dumb he had been by taking the
chance to follow her.

Sure, he had stayed at a fair enough distance
away, but a clean departure wasn’t always guaranteed. Like right
now, he thought, berating himself.

Whatever he had been thinking when he had saw
her pull away from the hospital, he had no clue. Just that she had
been upset, vulnerable.

Ready to take.

Thoughts of flashing blades, tearful
whimpers, frightened eyes that stared up at him, had consumed him,
almost caused him to take her right then. The thought that he
should run her off of the road and perform the ritual by a tree had
almost made him actually do it, and the restraint that he had had
to perform had actually caused him to shake.

Her hair, spread out on the leaf covered
ground, could have easily been threaded in his fingers, her head
wrenched back as he slowly slid the knife into her body, staring
into her eyes... Her screams would make an amazing addition to his
collection, he knew. Just the thought of that wonderful, husky
voice, crying out in fear, set his blood boiling--for more reasons
than one.

It would have been easy, he thought harshly.
He had everything he needed in the back of his car, stowed away in
a compartment of his trunk that no one but him knew of. The tools,
the scents, the gas, it had all been ready.

Just as a jar with her name was.

He smiled, thinking of the delicate glass jar
that he had reserved just for the leader who would soon succumb to
his forceful hands. He could already imagine how she would feel
under him, right before he stole her very life.

The car rumbled down the highway, barely
getting to the speed it needed to. The car wasn’t much of an issue
at the moment, but he had promised himself that soon enough, he
would have the leaders car.

It would be a great trophy for one of the
most monumental kills.

The races were stupid, he thought,
trying to push the small car faster. How could they, in their right
minds, let a
female
be a
leader of two entire races? The thought only made him shudder, the
weakness viable even though he wasn’t completely one of
them.

Once he took care of her, he would take care
of the rest of them. Slowly, surely, and completely, he would find
a way to kill every single one of their vermin. He was slowly
gathering his forces, slowly making the dream real, a dream that
spoke of no Unnaturals living in the world as if they belonged.

He felt his body tighten at the thought,
perverted pleasure rolling through him as he thought about how many
females he would have to kill to get it done.

And what he could do to them.

Without the females, the males were a weak
race all in themselves.

He just had to wait for the perfect
timing to get to the leader. When she was taken care of, the
pacchetto
would be in turmoil, lost,
frail without their “precious leader”. Like flies, the females
would drop from the face of the country, and hopefully, once he got
his followers on board, the world.

The man had high hopes that within time, the
world would be rid of it’s disgusting vermin, the very monsters
that were slowly starting to take over the world.

And then?

Mary would be all his...

Chapter 27

Raffaele, Chase beside him with his uncle
placed carefully in the back, drove out of the parking lot, feeling
panic settle in his veins.

Mary.

Why did it feel as if she were in danger, as
if by hurting her as he had, that she would be reckless with her
life? Raffaele didn’t want to know, nor was he looking forward to
finding out. If he had to, he would even confront her brother. But
right now, he had to find her, had to make sure that she was
okay.