Feral Passion (23 page)

She just shrugged, not saying much about it.
He followed her into the house after closing and locking the
door.

“Sit your asses down and tell me what the
hell happened,” he demanded, going into cop mode. “I’m not against
arresting you, Armoria. Charges of assault are big for
me—especially when it’s my sister that we’re talking about.”

Mary had a feeling that he was lying when he
talked about arresting the woman. Whatever relationship they had,
and how ever they knew each other, they obviously felt something
for one another. She started to feel sick, head pounding worse than
it ever had.

“Ulrich,” she spoke up. “She wasn’t the one
who did this.” Mary rubbed her temples, ignoring her brother’s
worried looks. All she wanted to do was sleep…maybe she could take
a nap on the comfortable chair up in the game room.

“How is that?” he demanded. She brings you
here, all beat up, with fur covering your arms, half way through
the transformation.

She flushed, hating that his voice was so
loud in her ears. Armoria sat beside her, placing her hand on
Mary’s back. The pain in her headache dulled somewhat, and she cast
a glance at the woman, confused and not without horror.

“The killer…” Mary started, rubbing her
forehead, voice weak but growing stronger.

“The killer has been disposed of,” Amoria
said, breaking into Mary’s sentence. Her voice was low, pained, as
she sat next to Mary.

There was a tense silence, in which Ulrich
stood there, naked except for Sponge Bob boxers, eyes darkening
with what looked like murder.

At the exact same moment that Ulrich jumped
forward, Armoria flung herself to the side, eyes wide, vanishing
into thin air.

Chapter 36

“You hurt my Chosen,” Kevin accused, voice
pained.

Raffaele bowed his head, staying silent. He
knew that he had been in the wrong from the beginning, that he
should have kept his mouth shut as he knew he should have. The
betrayal that he knew was misplaced had overcome him, made him
furious.

Mary had lied to him—or that was what he had
thought. Baiting him, drawing him in, making him feel horrible as
tears streamed down her cheeks in the hospital parking lot. The
panic that had radiated from her fragile body had made him feel
pained, that he had been the one to cause it by not coming to her
sooner.

“And because of you, she is weak, taken!”
Kevin shouted, a black light hitting beside Raffaele. If he hadn’t
been trained on staying calm and knowing that at any point
something unexpected could happen, he would have jumped and
screamed like the pansy bitch he thought he was at that moment.

Kevin continued. “And what would you have
done, had you not known the truth?” he asked, voice booming. “Are
you even considering apologizing to her, after what you’ve learned
from Stuart and hers conversation? I doubt she would talk to you at
all,” he raged, a slam from above resounding throughout the
room.

“I doubt that you will have the chance to,
after this morning and the murderer!” Kevin spat, another black
light flashing beside him.

Raffaele paused, breath stopping. “What?”

“And you
know
that—“

“Kevin, shut the fuck up!” he snapped, trying
to figure out what the Creator had meant about the “murderer”.

The raging stopped. As did the flashing black
lights.

“Now, what about the--?” he started, but a
quick flash of bright red, almost like blood, shone beside him. Yet
it didn’t end, instead lasting for close to a minute.

He stared at it, pausing. Something was
off…

“Kevin!”

A woman’s high pitched screech echoed
throughout the room. Raffaele looked at her, digesting in her
appearance with slow horror.

“You…” Raff started, backing away.

“Kevin, you have--!” She cut off, looking at
Raffaele with widening eyes. “Oh, god—“

“The hell… you were in my dream… You
were…”

Her face held stark panic as she looked up as
if she could see Kevin. “Let me up!” she demanded, fear in her
voice. “Let me up, Kevin!”

Raffaele stared at her, not registering her
words, but picturing her clawing at his chest, replacing Mary…

“I can’t do that right now, Armoria,” Kevin
said, hard.

“Everyone is going to kill me,” she
whimpered, wringing her hands.

“You know that he cannot kill you while in my
court,” he replied, sounding as if he were talking to a child and
getting fed up.

“Armoria? The hell… What
are
you?” Raffaele asked in
amazement, drawing in her scent. It smelled similar to when he had
had his dream… He would never forget that, he thought, staring at
her. The claws were gone, she had all of her skin, her hair was
cleaner…there wasn’t any blood.

Purposefully ignoring him, the blond shouted
in frustration. “Let me the fuck up, dammit!”

A voice broke in, one that Raffaele wasn’t
really acquainted with. “You know better than to talk like that to
my brothers, Armoria,” said a deep voice, deeper than Kevin or
Stuart’s voices had ever been.

She let out a breath. “Do you
not
see that he is ready to kill me,
along with Mary’s brother? I got her home, killed the bastard, and
I can’t even seek comfort in my own home now!” Raffaele stared at
her in slight amazement.

“Home?” he repeated, dumbfounded.

Still, Raffaele was ignored.

“I still expect you to respect those of you
around you. I taught you better,” the same voice chided.

He heard Kevin’s familiar sigh. “Is my court
to be a party place now? I have never had so many people in here at
once than I have these past days.”

“Whatever,” Armoria growled, eyes flashing
once again. “I’m out. Glad to know that you guys don’t care that I
almost died!”

Then she was gone, blood red light pooling
around Raffaele as she left. Before, the black shocks of light had
left him unfazed. But seeing her, watching her…his jaw dropped.

“You need to apologize to my Mary!” Kevin
said, as if what had just happened hadn’t happened at all.
Raffaele’s jaw dropped even more.

The same deep voice that had spoken to
Armoria growled, “She isn’t yours.”

Raff’s eye twitched. “She isn’t any of
yours! Let me the hell out, Kevin. I’ve had enough of this. I
swear, you and your brothers are a whole ‘nother thing of
fuckin’
Days of our
Lives
.”

“You will apologize?” Kevin asked, wary.

Raff nodded, irate. “As soon as you tell me
what the hell happened to her, and you wake me up.”

“The killer captured her,” Kevin said,
sounding displaced. “Armoria…I do believe she finally made her
move. Mary is safe at home, her brother is tending to her right
now. She is having some side effects, and she is being protected
from the human eye. Please remember that she has had a stressful
last couple of days,” he added with a hint of accusation, “and she
doesn’t need any more horse dung from you.”

“Crap,” he corrected absently, already
thinking of the meeting that he was going to have with her.

Did that mean that the threat of the killer
was gone now? “Yes, I believe so,” Kevin said, reading Raffaele’s
thoughts. Raffaele grimaced, feeling an ache suspiciously near his
heart.

The next thing Raffaele knew, he was gasping,
waking up as suddenly as he had been called to Kevin’s court. His
hotel room was clean, his clothes from the day before still on his
body, and the covers hadn’t even been pulled over himself.

He groaned, thinking that had been the worst,
most longest talk—or confrontation—in his life. Kevin rarely had a
chance to talk one-on-one with Raffaele. He was, after all,
Stuart’s. But When Stuart had taken Mary from the room, and some
sort of…mirror had appeared, he hadn’t cared.

All he knew was that he had hurt her, accused
her, and most likely damned them. No matter what, they would have
the bonding. There was nothing that could change that. Whether she
would be happy about it though, was a matter to be worried
about.

A Promise of Bond could almost never be
broken,
especially
between
leaders. Rare as it was, it would become a big deal within the
races. The two major families—or what was left of Raffaele’s and
himself—would not go unnoticed by anyone. When a bonding like thi
occurred, it was shocking, and sometimes a gamble on
lives.

Rules would be made, things would indeed
change—for the better or worse, he had no clue. And he couldn’t
bring himself to, even though those rules would affect everyone.
What he was focused on was winning Mary back, being in her good
graces.

The emotion, the utter devastation that he
had witnessed in her eyes, came back to haunt him—just as he
assumed they always would. To be accused of forcing a Promise of
Bond was painful, and long lasting in the mind of the accused. He
doubt that she would forget about his cruel words, and all Raffaele
could feel was extensive regret.

He had had no clue what had come over him,
and now that Mary had been threatened, he had a hard time believing
that the man who had tried to steal her from him was actually gone.
Just thinking about the murderer’s hands on his Mary’s delicate
skin caused him to feel murderous rage.

Getting up, he took a quick shower and
ignored the ache in his bones and heart.

By the time he was in the car, had had called
Hannah and let her know that she would need to prepare for one of
the company jets to be available when he called him. Even though he
knew for  fact that Mary would put up a fight at the prospect
of leaving her people and her family, he was taking her to safety
and was most definitely going to make their bonding a true one.

He was not going to live the rest of his life
with a woman that didn’t love him, when he was beginning to realize
that he couldn’t live without her.

Chapter 37

“You need
what?
”

Raffaele sighed. “I need the address already,
Romero. You’ve asked that exact question several times
already.”

A pause. “Sorry, not every day I have guys
lining up to talk to Ulrich about his baby sister—the last guy who
did that was in ICU for weeks.”

Raff’s lips quirked, but he didn’t comment on
it. “Just give me the address. I promise I won’t end up with
punctured lungs.”

“It’s not your lungs that’ll be broken,” came
the muttered response. But he gave the address to Raff anyways and
after a couple more words, they hung up and he was on his way to
Ulrich’s place, which was a couple miles away from where Mary
lived.

He turned off the car, staring up at the
house, feeling his heart pound. He hadn’t felt like this since high
school—actually, not even then. It felt like he was back in the
cellar, waiting for the dark-clothed men to come in. Wiping his
hands on his jeans, trying to still his nervousness, he climbed out
of the car and walked up to the door with a steady gait.

Before knocking, there was a strong curse and
a couple of other raised voices. One of them he knew to be
Ulrich’s, and the other sounded like Mary’s. Was she really okay?
Swallowing, he knocked on the door, closing his eyes briefly.

“Who is it?” Ulrich roared, obviously in the
middle of yelling something else.

Raffaele stayed silent, waiting till the door
was jerked open. When the smaller woman saw who was standing there,
it was almost closed in his face. He frowned, putting his foot in
the doorway and walking inside.

Mary, of course, said nothing.

“You’re so stupid sometimes, Mary!” her
brother raged, stomping into the room. “
See?
That could have been Armoria, about to slit
your throat open!”

Raffaele stared at him, deadpan. So they knew
the woman, too.

“What are you doing here?” Ulrich asked
suddenly, as if just realizing that Raff was there.

“Talk to you,” he said shortly, knowing that
Mary would run if he mentioned talking to her.

“About?” Ulrich crossed his arms over his
bare chest, tapping his foot.

“Things…” Raffaele’s voice trailed off as he
took in Ulrich’s appearance.

Mary’s brother rolled his eyes, huffing. He
dropped his arms, picking at his Spongbob pants. “I’m going to go
and change. I’ll leave you two love-birds alone for a bit,” he
sneered mockingly before leaving them to change.

Raffaele shifted his feet as the deafening
silence took place. Mary was staring ahead, eyes focused yet not,
her body tense as a tightly strung bow.  When he got farther
into the room, his eyes picked up on several things at once.

Her skin, or what he could see of it, had
small, light patches of white striped fur. Welts were swelling on
her arms, the blackness startling and angering him. Her eyes, as
much as she tried to hide it, held pain. A pain so profound, it
looked like pure agony as he stared at her.

He wondered if it was because of him, or
because of her body.

Raffaele assumed both.

The remembered feel of her in his arms made
his hands fist at his sides, fighting the urge to pull her into him
as he had before. But that most likely wouldn’t happen any time
soon, not with the way that he had hurt her.

He hadn’t understood, had chosen to ignore
Kevin, when he had mentioned side effects. He had assumed it was
because of Raffaele, and that because the woman Armoria had said
the murderer was dead, killed, no harm had come to Mary.

Raffaele took a mental breather, and sat next
to Mary, who had moved to the couch. If possible, she tensed even
more.

“How are you feeling?” he tried, feeling like
he was walking on thin ice. Or, by the look in her eyes, on fiery
coals. At first, he didn’t think she was going to reply to him.