Feral Passion (7 page)

“I can’t be killed, Ulrich.” If only he knew
how much she meant that. She could feel pain, could experience
feelings, could live just as anyone else.

She just couldn’t die.

Mary watched as her older brother’s eyes
turned red, dampening. Her heart clenched and she wrapped her arms
around him tightly, feeling like the worst person in the world for
making her strong brother cry.

“Yes you can, Mary. You can die and I
wouldn’t have you anymore. I have to protect you,” he choked out,
his huge arms coming around her in a crushing hug. “You're
my
sister
, Mary. I can’t. .
.”

She nodded against him, eyes watering at the
emotion in his voice, the way he was letting his guard down after
so many years.

“Ulrich. . . I’m so sorry.” It was pointless
to ask him not to cry; he would deny the pained tears that were
pooling in his eyes.

“Just come stay with me. You won’t get
hurt, I can keep you
safe
,” he
growled/cried, his voice pained.

They stayed like that, brother and sister
holding each other, trying not to feel the pain of the thought of
losing one another.

Finally, Mary pulled back, eyes sad as she
stared up at Ulrich.

“I’m sorry. . . I can’t.”

Chapter 10

The club’s music practically poured into his
soul as he sat in the booth with his other companions. Woman in
corsets and bustier, stockings and pierced body parts all danced
around them, preening under the heated looks they were getting.

Beers were passed around, strobe lights
flashing with the beat of the music, and bodies undulation with the
rhythm that suggested sex.

“What can I get for you, boys?”

The waitress’ voice brought his eyes up,
scanning over her body with faint disinterest. Fishnet stocks, neon
pink thong, and smeared make-up. He could feel her eyes on his
watch and clothing, sizing him up for how much she could milk out
of him.

“I’ll just have a plain beer,” Raffaele said,
getting out some cash.

Chase, who was sitting beside him, smiled up
at the woman, eyes lingering on her protruding breasts. “Blue
MotherFucker for me, baby.”

The waitress licked her blood red lips,
writing down the order absently. “I can have one of the girls take
care of this and we can go to the back, if you want,” she purred,
strutting closer to Chase.

He chuckled, tucking a ten into her chest.
“Maybe later, I’m here with a friend.”

She pouted. “He can come, too. I don’t mind
the extra company, if you don’t mind double pay.” Those
disgustingly red lips smirked down at Chase, and Raff barely held
in a snort.

Ever the charmer,
he thought as his friend lingered on her chest.

She gave a smug smile to Raff, and then
strutted off, hips swinging with an extra kick.

“Got plans later tonight?” Chase asked,
turning to meet his friend with a grin.

“Actually, I do.”

“Important enough to bail out on a
sexpadition with
her
?”

Raffaele laughed. “Sleeping does have its
perks, you know.”

His friend rolled his eyes, sighing. “You
need to get out more, my friend. I swear, sometimes you are so
holed up in that office of yours that you would think you're a
mole.”

“You do what you gotta do. And you aren’t one
to talk, either! Look at you, so holed up in females that you would
think you are a thong.”

Chase snorted, hand going to his throat with
mock horror. “I believe you meant dildo. I would prefer that to a
thong.”

Raffaele shook his head in disappointment.
“And I thought your mother raised you better than this. She would
be turning over in her grave if she could hear you right now.”

“Let’s talk about
your
mother, shall we?” Chase asked, settling
back into the chair comfortably with a sly look.

He glared at the blonde man. “Let’s not.”

“And why—”

“Here are your drinks, gentlemen,” the
waitress from before announced, setting the drinks down and then
sliding in next to Chase.

He waved his eyes at Raff before wrapping an
arm around the woman's waist, drawing her close into his body as
she began necking him.

Blonde, arrogant, and a bit of a man-whore,
Chase had the attitude that most men craved yet hated. Cocky to the
point of being a prick, Raffaele couldn’t even hold up the amount
of times that Chase had been in fights on his fingers.

Chase had been the one to come with him
to Iowa, yet he didn’t live anywhere near where Raffaele did. The
two had been childhood friends, but when they had graduated, Chase
had been all ready to move to Italy where his Archaeos roots were
most strong. A lot of the kids in his graduating class had done
that, but being the soon-to-be leader of the
pacchetto,
it was hard to have a real
life.

Her hands were already working on the zipper
to his friend’s pants, and Raff held in a sigh. The blonde must
have noticed because he pushed her off gently, this time putting a
twenty in between her breasts. “I said later, babe.” He gave her a
slap on the ass to get her going, and she walked away reluctantly,
shaking that fake ass.

“You always were a party-pooper,” Chase
commented with a bored sigh.

“I don’t need to see my best friend having
sex in front of me.” He laughed.

“You’ve done a lot more than watch before,
man.”

Raffaele picked up his drink, taking a small
sip before putting it down with distaste. The blue drink sitting in
front of Chase looked all too inviting. He averted his eyes to the
dance floor, where sweaty bodies and heated glances were being
exchanged and returned.

He thought of Mary, her innocent forest eyes
and long brown hair, and shrugged. “Times change.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Who is she?”

Raff raised his eyes, playing dumb. “Who is
who?”

“The girl.”

“What girl?”

“You know.”

“No I don’t.”

Chase growled, taking a drink of his Blue
MotherFucker. “Don’t play dick with me, tell me who she is.”

“The only girl I’ve talked to today is
the leader of this
pacchetto
,
not a whole lot more to say about it.” He didn’t know why, but even
just thinking about the brunette while in a place like this seemed.
. .wrong. Like he was tainting her.

What would she think of him, if she knew that
he was in this club right now? Worse than she already did, which
wasn’t saying a lot.

“What’s her name?” Chase asked, acting much
like a pitbull.

He sighed, rubbing his jaw. “Mary.”

“Mary?”

Raff nodded.

“Do you know her last name?” He asked
curiously, nursing his alcohol.

“Waters.” He
really
didn’t want to be talking about her with
Chase. Like
at all
.

Chase nodded knowingly, flashing a white
smile. “Little affair while you're out here, then? Want some. .
.company?”

Raff growled before he could stop
himself, hands clenching around the glass hard enough that a
small
crack
sounded.
“
No
.”

Chase held up his hands. “Calm down, bro. I
was just playing.”

He felt like ripping his friends hands as he
thought about Chase and Mary together. Just the implication that
she would be with someone like him pissed him off to no ends.

“Yeah. Right.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “So how did that
meeting with
Mary
go?”

He felt his eyes cross with irritation.
Of
course
, Chase always had
been the one to give him shit. “It was fine.”

“‘
Fine or better than fine? That look
in your eye suggest something more,” Chase said,
smirking.

“Chase, I swear to god. . . One day, you’ll
be sleeping so deeply that I’ll just be tempted to kill you. You
won’t wake up.”

“Don’t play tough, we all know I could kill
you in a second,” lied Chase, chuckling.

His eyes rolled. “Yeah, you think that. I’ll
be right back, I have to use the bathroom.” Raff stood up, placing
the money for the beer on the table.

“I might call that waitress over here,” his
friend mused with carnal intent.

Raff laughed. “You do that.”

He walked through the gyrating bodies, the
groping hands, and the smell of smoke and alcohol to the men's
bathroom, ignoring the sounds of rhythmic pounding and moans. The
lighting was barely lighter than it was outside, dim and stingy
with the low tint of yellow from the lighting.

You would think that the club would have an
amazing, deco bathroom with low LED lights and automatic fountains
with an instant dry blower for your hands.

Instead?

It wreaked of pot, sex, and vomit.

Standing over the sink and blocking out the
sound of the fucking from behind him, Raff tried to clear his mind,
thinking over what was going on in the club and also about. . .his
rage over Mary and Chase.

And how wrong it was.

Who the hell was he to get jealous over a
girl he had just met, had only seen twice, and had probably made
such a bad impression with their last words going by the way that
she had run out so quickly.

His eyes narrowed on the stained-yellow
sink. What was Romero to her? Not a brother, they looked
way
to different, and while he
understood that people didn’t always look like family, it sure as
fuck was a too big difference.

The sound of zipping and completed sighs drew
his attention to where he was now, and how. . .disgusted he felt.
Turning on the water and washing his face, he got a paper towel out
and dried his hands off as he exited the room.

He wasn’t shocked when he came back to Chase
and the woman going at it, right there in the seat. Raff had
expected nothing less when he had agreed to go out with the guy,
but it was still awkward for him to be around when he wasn’t in the
mood to join—even though the offer to double up on her was still
there.

Polishing off his beer, Raff tapped the woman
on the shoulder, not caring that her hands were so deep in Chase’s
pants that it seemed like she was glued there. She gave a glare
before masking it, recognizing that he wasn’t going to join in.

“Another one, please.” He leaned over,
holding up his empty beer, to smile innocently at Chase who’s eyes
were speaking far more than anything else could have.

“You’re such a dick,” he spit out, earning
another innocent grin.

“Come with me to talk to Michael at the
bar.”

“Are you sure that it’s him?” Chase asked,
forgetting about his “sexpadition”.

“It must be, my
beta
described him with enough detail that he’s
practically imprinted in my mind. Plus, I’m not to sure that juts
any person would have an eagle tattooed on his face. .
.”

“True that,” Chase said, getting up. “What
all do you need to ask him?”

“Just. . .stuff.” He paused. “Chase?”

Chase raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up, kay?”

Chapter 11

Mary watched Ulrich back out of her driveway,
letting out a sigh of relief. After the hugging and begging, he had
finally understood that she wasn’t going anywhere and he couldn't
make her move anymore than he could the sun.

She closed the door slowly, checking around
the corns of the house, paranoid. All of the locks were in place,
curtains closed, and every single light that she owned was on.
Ulrich was supposed to come by at around noon tomorrow with some
friends to put in a more. . .stable and advanced security
system.

Her fingers rubbed at her eyes, trying to get
rid of the headache that had only gotten worse while he had been
there. She wondered briefly if she should go see a doctor about the
headaches; they were showing up and getting worse every time.

Then she thought about all the complications
it would cause and all the questions and worry it would ignite, and
held it off. Everything she did, everywhere she went, Mary was
always being watched and questioned. Barely any privacy to herself,
all she had was her house—which she hated. The fact that she had to
be under strict security by force of her family irritated her to no
ends, but she understood their concern and let them have their
way.

As she changed into her pajamas and set
up the security system for the night, her eyes scanned over her
bed, making herself frustrated.
No one is
in the house
, she told herself, eyes not listening to
her silent demand that they stop being paranoid.

She sat on her bed, slowly, as if a bomb
would go off if she sat to hard or fast.

The headache got worse, the space behind her
eyes pounding. Mary laid back, almost whimpering from how much it
hurt. Wrapping her forearms around her head, she tried to breathe
normally.

So focused on her headache, Mary didn’t
notice the smell of burnt ash.

She quickly fell asleep.

***

The air was dusky, tinted gray around her. In
her hands a dagger lay limp, blood staining the sharp blade. Her
heart was beating like a race horse, adrenaline pumping through
her.

Above her was Kevin, eyes sad, regretful.
White hair swayed like something out of Final Fantasy as he shook
his head in disappointment, a sigh echoing around them.

Beneath her feet, a body lay dead, eyes wide,
bloody mouth gaping. The horror in his eyes made her stomach heave,
the knife clattering to the ground.