Master of Smoke (35 page)

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Authors: Angela Knight

BOOK: Master of Smoke
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“But it’s a nice thought,” Charlotte added hastily.
Oh, hell, she’d known that was going to be his reaction. Maybe she could tell them just enough of the truth to get them to agree. “Thing is, we’ve got a problem. Those guys—the guys that followed us the other day. We’re afraid they’re going to come after you, too. I’m worried about you.”
“Dammit, I told you,” Bill said to Charlotte. “I told you there was something wrong.” He shifted his glower to Eva. “Why in the hell haven’t you called the cops?”
“What are they going to do, Dad?” Eva burst out in frustration. “These guys haven’t done anything yet. The cops will come out if they show up again, but by the time they get here, you could be hurt.”
You could be eaten
. The memory of her nightmare made her fists clench. She stuffed the emotion down, afraid it would make her shift in front of her parents.
“Ronnie frickin’ Gordon isn’t going to run
me
out of town, Eva!” His hazel eyes blazed in offended rage.
“It isn’t Ronnie, Dad. It’s somebody a hell of a lot more dangerous. Somebody who’ll kill you.” She rose and began to pace, restless and urgent as she tried to find the words to persuade them. “They’ll kill
Mom
.”
A muscle flexed in Bill’s bearded jaw, and Eva winced, recognizing a very bad sign from years of daughterly experience. His narrow gaze flicked to David. “You’re some kind of criminal, aren’t you? A drug dealer, most likely. And now my daughter is in danger from the assholes you run with.”
David’s wince was microscopic—he probably thought there was far too much truth to the accusation.
Bill rose to his feet, the movement slow and deliberate. He didn’t shout. It would have been better if he had. “Get out of my house and stay away from my family.”
“Dad, no! He’s not a criminal—it’s not that.” Eva stepped between them, frantic to defuse the situation. “It’s not drugs, or anything else illegal.”
David rose, too, but there was no anger in his face. He just looked tired. “It’s too late for that. Even if I go, he’ll still come after you. He knows how much she means to me, and he wants revenge. And he’ll use you to get it.”
“Then the last place my family needs to be is anywhere around you. I won’t tell you again.” Bill lowered his head with a growl that would have done a werewolf proud. “Get. Out.”
David didn’t move. “I can protect your family, Mr. Roman. I’ll see to it that nothing happens to any of you. Just come with me. Please.”
Bill stepped up to him until barely an inch separated them and glared up into his face, despite the fact that David was easily nine inches taller. “Get out or I’m putting you out.”
Oh, God, he’s going to take a swing at David,
Eva thought.
“Bill,” Charlotte said, her voice shaking ever so slightly, “I think we should call the police.”
Shit.
Eva’s stomach coiled into a sick knot. “Daddy, I swear to you, he’s not a criminal. I wouldn’t bring a criminal into your house. You
know
that.”
Bill looked at her, his lips tight with rage. She’d never seen her father look so furious. Or so betrayed. “You’ve been lying to us since this bastard walked into your life.” Registering her flinch, he ground his teeth. “You think we haven’t noticed?”
There was only one thing she could do. “I’ve been lying to you for a lot longer than that.”
David’s blue eyes widened. “Eva, don’t. I can ...”
She ignored him and let her magic spill, fueled by fear, guilt, and raw, shaking dread. Fur flowed across her skin in an itching, tingling wave, and muscle and bone twisted, expanded, reshaped her body in painful jerks and pops.
When it was over an eyeblink later, she was a werewolf.
“What the fuck!” Bill leaped back and pushed Charlotte behind him with an automatic sweep of one arm. Eva’s mother sucked in a shocked breath, covering her mouth with one shaking hand. David rubbed one hand over his eyes, his broad shoulders slumping.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Eva burst into speech, frantic to fill the astonished, frightened silence. “I would
never
hurt you. I’ve been a werewolf for five years. I know I should have told you, but I was afraid of what you’d think. All that stuff about werewolves killing people is bull. Well, not everything, there are some werewolves who are nasty bastards, but
I’m
not a killer. Except for two guys, but they were werewolves and they were trying to kill us, and I didn’t have a—”
“Eva, you’re babbling,” David interrupted with a sigh. “Let your parents process this.”
Bill turned a stunned gaze on him. “Did you do this to her?”
“
No
, Dad. David’s not even a werewolf. He’s ... well, he’s something else. There was this guy, he attacked me. I went jogging one night and ...” Eva cut herself off, realizing she was babbling again. And God, she was tired. Without thinking, she sank down on the love seat. It produced an alarming creak of protest. She jumped up and almost tripped, but David grabbed her elbow and steadied her with automatic, offhand strength.
“I keep thinking it’s got to be a costume,” Charlotte said in a distant voice, “but it’s not, is it?” She reached out and stroked a trembling hand over Eva’s furry arm. “It’s warm. It’s really you.” She looked up into her daughter’s face. “Your eyes are the same. They’re just the same.” Her fingers lifted to trace the length of Eva’s muzzle, feeling flesh and muscle move beneath the thinner fur there. “That’s definitely not a costume.” Suddenly her eyes went fierce with a mother’s anger. “Somebody
attacked
you? He hurt you? Eva, is this the same man who’s after you now?”
“No, Mom.” Her father had taken her hand to examine her claws, one thumb brushing absently over her palm in a soothing gesture. At her mother’s words, his grip tightened.
“If it was the man I suspect it was, he’s dead,” David said. Eva shot him an astonished look—
when did he find that out?
He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Trey Devon was a serial killer. He murdered the sister of one of our people, and she and her fiancé hunted him down. There was a fight, and they killed him.”
Bill’s jaw dropped and he stared at David. “A serial killer?” He transferred his horrified gaze to his daughter as if he was only just now starting to process what he’d heard. “You were attacked by a
werewolf serial killer
? Why didn’t you tell us, Eva!”
“Because she was afraid we’d freak, Bill,” Charlotte said tartly. “Which is exactly what we’re doing.” She looked up at Eva again. “For the record, you’re still our daughter, furry or not. We love you, and nothing will ever change that.” She turned toward the kitchen. “Now I need something a hell of a lot stronger than white wine. In fact, I’ll get some for everybody.”
“I’ll help you,” Bill said, and strode after her.
“Which sounds like my cue to change back,” Eva muttered, and summoned her magic.
NINETEEN
When her transformation
was complete, Eva sank down on the couch again. This time it didn’t creak. She leaned forward and buried her head in her hands. “Oh, God.” A short, semi-hysterical laugh burst out. “Believe it or not, that actually went better than I expected.”
David sat next to her and looped an arm around her shoulder to pull her close. “You know, you didn’t have to do that. I could have cast a spell to make them go with us.”
She shot him a horrified glance. “Oh, God no. It’s bad enough that I lied to them for all these years.”
He sighed. “I thought that would be your reaction. I think we might as well bite the bullet and take them to the Mageverse. They’d be safer there than they’d be in the safe house. We strengthened the city’s wards a couple of years ago so nothing can get through without a spell key. And besides, even Warlock isn’t going to want to take on the Knights of the Round Table.”
“What?” Bill stopped short in the doorway, a glass of something amber in his hand. “Did you say Knights of the Round Table?
They’re real? And alive?
”
Eva rubbed a hand over her aching forehead. “Yeah, they’re real. And they’re definitely alive. You’d like ... well, Arthur. Tristan’s an asshole.”
Bill’s eyes got even wider. “Arthur?”
David stood, dropping a hand to her shoulder. “Why don’t you three talk. I need to make a call.” He turned toward the front door.
“You can use our phone,” Charlotte called, but he’d already stepped outside.
Eva sat back on the couch. “That would be one hell of a long distance bill.” She noticed her father staring at her in puzzlement. “What?” Her voice sounded a trifle defensive.
“Your clothes are back. Where did they go?”
She shrugged. “Got me. It’s magic, Dad. I have no idea how it works.”
Charlotte handed her a glass. Eva accepted it and discovered it was a Coke with enough rum in it to burn all the way down. “Yeah,” she sighed, sitting back and taking another sip. “That’s about right.”
“Is your boyfriend a werewolf, too?” Charlotte asked, sipping from her own glass as she sat down next to her daughter.
“Actually, he’s kind of a werecat. And he works spells.”
“I knew there was something weird about him. And did you just say you know King Arthur?” Bill demanded. There was a familiar gleam in his eyes.
Charlotte choked on her drink and sputtered, “Oh, God, he’s starting to geek out!”
 
“We are not
running a halfway house for mortals, Smoke.” On the screen of the enchanted iPhone, Arthur glowered.
“I’m aware of that, but these particular mortals are in danger because their daughter helped me when I needed it most.”
“Good point.” The vampire rubbed his temple, grimacing as if he had a headache. With his duties, it was probably perpetual. “And I’m aware of how much I owe you. My son’s life, for one thing—a dozen times over.”
David’s lips twitched. “The boy did have an interesting childhood.”
“Yeah, in the sense of the old Chinese curse: ‘May you live in interesting times.’ But your friends can’t stay here forever, Smoke. And there’s no way of knowing how long it’s going to take to wrap up this mess with Warlock.”
“Oh, I fully intend to take care of Warlock as soon as possible.” David curled a lip in a snarl. “I owe him. And I’m going to pay him back.”
 
 
The white stag
raced through the forest in huge bounds, barely one leap ahead of the enormous wolf that snapped at his flanks. Zephyr could feel waves of magic and rage and sheer madness radiating from the creature. They sent blind panic careening through the stag part of him.
Perhaps remaining in the body of a prey animal hadn’t been the best choice after all.
He thought about calling for Smoke. His friend would have fought for him, but the future he’d seen along that path had ended with the death of both Smoke and his mate. And Zephyr’s fate had not been changed.
The only hope he’d seen had lain on this path—and it was not one that would save him. He was fated for the destruction of all he was, his power drained to feed the wolf’s madness, ambition, and hate.
Helpless fury surged through him at that thought. He spotted a tree up ahead, and he shot around it. The wolf didn’t turn in time, allowing Zephyr to circle behind it. He drove his antlers into the beast’s white haunches, impaling the creature and sending a death spell blasting into it.
With a heave of his head, he picked the wolf up and sent it flying. It yelped in agony as it landed, tumbling through the leaves to slam into a tree trunk. He felt its magic rise, fighting his spell.
“
I am no easy prey, you foul bastard
!” Zephyr bugled in fury and charged, head lowered, another death spell sizzling on the points of his antlers. The wolf whirled and fled around the tree with a single startled yip. Vast satisfaction surged through Zephyr, and he pursued his foe, head still lowered. The wolf ran from him, weaving through the trees, forcing the stag to slow his furious pursuit as he followed. The creature disappeared through a pair of enormous bushes standing side by side. Zephyr had to stop to force his greater bulk through them.
A blast of magic exploded just beyond the thick brush. It was too late to stop.
The creature had transformed into an enormous werewolf. He held a double-bladed battle-axe in one hand, sparks spilling from the great gem implanted in the spiked tip. Zephyr planted his cloven hooves and tried to twist away, but the axe was already swinging.
The blade bit into the stag’s muscled neck, and the spell blasted after it. Zephyr felt it rip into him, dragging his power and essence from the stag and sending it funneling into the werewolf’s greedy brain. He fought the pull with all his strength, tried to shield, but the stag was dying, its blood running red as its legs buckled under it. Without the animal to anchor his magic, Zephyr couldn’t hold on.
The werewolf dragged him under like a riptide, slashed at him with the power the stag’s death had given him. Used it to rip him into pieces and keep what he wanted.

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