Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1) (9 page)

“Where do you fit in all this?”

Susan saw her spine stiffen.

“I’m not sure.” Kele remained quiet for a few moments as if trying to decide how to explain. “I can’t shift. That’s not something anyone would respect or fear, but my parents are the alphas. Only their presence and love defend me. If they were to withdraw it or pass away, I’d be in a dire situation.”

“Like me.” Susan rolled on her side and faced the wall, turning her back to Kele, unable to bear the pity in the shifter’s gaze anymore. This sucked monkey balls with extra tartar sauce.

“Your situation is unique, Susan.” She sighed. “We’ll speak with Benic in the morning and see if he can offer you something better.” Susan sensed Kele rise off the pallet. “I’m going to wash. Will you come?”

The caked-on layer of dust and dirt clung to Susan’s skin. She really ought to wash. “Can I in the morning? I’m exhausted and want to sleep. Hopefully things will seem better after some rest.”

“Very well. I won’t be long.” The sound of the broken door sliding open and closed followed shortly.

Susan buried her face in the pallet and screamed. She punched the bed and took another lungful of air before screaming into the mattress once more. When her throat burned and her lungs ached, she stopped and rolled onto her back.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. What the fuck?
She kicked her heels.

She could remain here and be considered a stray with a high chance of receiving some sort of abuse in her near future. She could convince the vampire to take her back to his castle and most probably become dinner. Or…what? What were her other options?

She could find her way back to the Temple and seek the gateway, make a new machine out of sticks and mud, powered by desperation.

No amount of searching would find the portal home. Without DOUG to maintain the gateway, the opening had collapsed. The ceiling wavered through the sheen of tears she blinked away. If she’d learned one thing today, it was not to show fear or weakness. She doubted shifters ever cried. Clasping her hands, she stared at nothing in particular.

Ever since high school, she’d been so focused on her career, then her research. Until today, she’d never really been without purpose. The emptiness inside her soul was unfamiliar. She poked at it and decided to name it despair.

She’d be a stray. They’d want her to submit or they’d beat the shit out of her. Kele’s mother would probably ride her ass. If being submissive was part of Susan’s nature, she wouldn’t be in this mess to start with. The military would own DOUG, and she’d have a Starbucks coffee in hand right now.

Chapter Seven

The pack gathering room emptied after Susan and Kele left. Inali and his insane mate had retired right after the confrontation with their daughter, leaving Sorin to hang from the chains for the viewing pleasure of the Payami pack. None were brave enough to approach him.

Alphas, from one’s own pack or not, were due some respect at an instinctual level from all shifters of lower dominance. Inali didn’t fear him but everyone else here did.

Long, dark hair caught Sorin’s attention among a group of laughing shifters by the door. Ahote. That one didn’t fear him either. What he would do to have such a strong hunter in his pack.

Ahote lifted his head to meet his gaze. Hatred snapped in the air between them.

Maybe Sorin was lucky to not have such a shifter after all. Yet Ahote had deferred to Inali earlier this evening without a squabble. It sounded like he had tried to defend Susan. A commendable thing in a male, but it had stung to watch the rough treatment of the human.

She was a delicate creature, easily broken. A fire in his gut, which had nothing to do with hunger, burned at the memory of the scratches and the wide-eyed hurt on her face. He’d seen such looks in his past from his pack mates. Chaska had no business attacking her. Susan knew nothing of shifters and their laws. One taught before reprimanding errors.

How his heart had swelled when Susan had confronted Inali. Even from this distance, Sorin could smell the alpha’s confusion at this strange creature’s action. Sorin couldn’t think of a single female in his pack who would have done that. Not even Lailanie, his most dominant female.

Ahote strode toward him with three other large males who shifted to feral form—something not usually done in the den. As Ahote stood before Sorin, he crossed his arms over his chest.

Sorin smirked. “Four against one. I’m flattered.”

“You’re an alpha in size if not honor. I’m not stupid enough to fool myself into thinking I could take you on.” Ahote gestured to the males with him. “Inali ordered for you to be lowered for the night and chained to the wall like an Apisi dog.”

The insult didn’t sting. He’d been called that by other packs all his life due to his father’s behavior. Were they dogs? Not anymore. Not under his rule. He’d made right the wrongs.

As they lowered him to the ground, his arms dropped. A sharp zing of agony shot up both limbs, traveling to his back. His knees buckled but he caught himself before hitting the ground. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing his pain.

They put a metal collar around his neck that linked to a chain embedded in the stone wall. One of the males tossed a water skin at Sorin’s feet.

Ahote crouched next to him. “You have a few admirers. Would you like company to keep you warm for the night?”

“So you can all watch?”

The dark shifter laughed. “Of course. I don’t do this out of the kindness of my heart.”

“I don’t indulge in females.” Sorin gulped the cold, crisp water.

“Mated?”

He shook his head, too thirsty to talk.

Ahote sneered. “Males?”

Sorin choked on the water. “No, but you’re almost pretty enough, Ahote, to make me change my mind.” How he loved watching the flash of anger in the other shifter’s eyes. Sorin hadn’t taken any lovers since he’d become alpha. There were too many issues to fix within his pack to find the time to search since no one in his den stirred his desires.

With a snarl, Ahote rose and spun, leaving with his companions. The gathering room was empty now except for a low-burning fire in the pit.

As soon as the sound of the shifters’ departure faded from Sorin’s hearing, he examined his collar with the tips of his fingers. They really kept such faith in vampire crafts?

Shifters worked well with natural material like wood and stone. The vampires designed things of metal—monstrosities such as cannons and muskets, also machines that worked on coal, which polluted their air.

The longer he remained trapped here, the more his pack would weaken. At least Peder had returned with the flowers for the fever before this disaster had occurred.

He worked the collar around until he could finger the lock. Obviously the Payami were a more civilized yet naïve pack if they thought no one could pick it. When his father was displeased with someone, chaining them was a common occurrence, but there’d been times when he’d forget where or how long they’d been imprisoned. Sorin, with the aid of the other pups such as Peder, learned to watch for disappearances and track scents like full-grown hunters. They’d also learned a few tricks about locks.

If he shifted, the collar would strangle him—all vampire metal could withstand shifter strength—but by concentrating on just one body part, Sorin could partially shift. Most couldn’t do this, and it hurt like the Goddess had him by the balls. He focused on the fingertips of one hand. The muscles in his forearms trembled, and sweat beaded on his skin. With aching slowness his claws grew from under his nail beds. Blood dripped onto the floor as they extended to their full length. Shifting never hurt and didn’t normally cause bleeding but Sorin had forgotten the pain that came with partial shifting. What he did was unnatural, and his body didn’t know how to react.

Using the long claws, he fished around the lock until he heard a familiar click. The collar loosened and he set himself free. Setting it on the ground, he then focused on his hand and watched in agony as the claws receded. He swallowed the pain and drew strength from it. Pain meant he was alive and winning.

He wiped the sweat from his brow then jogged to the entrance. Before peeking outside, he allowed the scents of the night air to drift in his nose. Above the smells of shifters he could detect food, green things and sex. All common things within a den, but something else drifted faintly in the air.

Susan.

No shifter’s scent hung close to the door so Sorin stuck his head out and scanned the area. He’d heard of the Payami den and how they’d built a stronghold inside a mountain. It was quite a sight to see in comparison to his simple canyon home. High walls with multi-level living areas surrounded a well-manicured, garden-like forest. He could even scent a vegetable garden close by.

But where was the singing, the camaraderie of pack? He’d witnessed how the members socialized in small groups and how they all retired to their own entertainments. That was all fine but he hadn’t seen anything that made them pack. The Payami may have wealth but they lacked family. He’d take his close, impoverished pack over this life any day.

Sorin didn’t hear anyone walking around. It was late, and most shifters would be asleep or otherwise occupied. He crept along the wall and followed Susan’s scent trail. It was easy to identify since she was the only human inside the den. He backtracked it through a dense part of the garden.

Leaves rustled to the left. He froze.

Grunts and mewls of pleasure followed the movement. The couple was too distracted to care about him. He probably could sit next them to watch and they wouldn’t have noticed. Shaking his head, he continued on his hunt. He’d never personally experienced such blind passion. It seemed dangerous. He could have killed both of them if he’d cared to.

Susan’s scent led up a flight of stairs. He paused at the base and spotted a pile of clothes by an unguarded cave. The exit? Shifters usually left leather kilts and dresses by the den’s main entrance so they could dress after shifting to civil form. It was considered rude to stride around naked, like he was doing. However, there were no guards protecting the area.

He wasn’t sure what that meant but it gave him a bad feeling. He’d been unconscious when they carried him inside the den so he hadn’t observed any of their defenses. This was another reason to find Susan.

What if she didn’t want to come with him? Would he knock her unconscious and carry her home like his father used to do? He sighed. Never. Not even to save his pack. He’d have to rely on his charm. Nausea rose in his gut at just the thought. His pack was doomed. He knew enough not to barge into her room naked though.

He went through the kilts as fast as he could before anyone noticed him out in the open. One of the troubles of being an alpha was size. Nothing fit well. He settled on a kilt that fit his waist but fell well above his knees and didn’t bother with a shirt. At a glance he could tell none of them would get past his shoulders.

As he dressed, he noticed a pale figure making her way along the balconies toward the ground area. Sorin slipped back into the darkness and went still.

Kele descended the stairs at a leisurely pace. She passed his hidden position,
 
carrying fresh clothes and a drying cloth as if going to a bathing room. He noticed Susan was not accompanying her. Would they have imprisoned her? He somehow doubted it. Kele seemed to actually care about the human’s well being.

So did Ahote, but for other reasons. If that male laid one hand on her… Sorin’s heart screeched to a halt. Where had Ahote gone after locking him to the wall? Why was Kele leaving the human female by herself?

Taking the steps three at a time, Sorin followed Susan’s scent up two levels and across a hanging-rope bridge to a broken wooden door.

Susan blinked at the ceiling. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t making her problems go away. She’d have to cope with being a stray until she could figure out a new plan. Maybe her skills as a scientist could give her an advantage? She could try to re-invent the light bulb.

Shit, she’d have to re-invent electricity first.

The door to Kele’s room shattered open again. Susan’s heart stopped as she stared at the opening, half expecting to see Chaska there once more, but found a silver-haired sex-god from her darkest fantasies standing in the doorway. He wore a short, leather, kilt-like skirt that bared enough thigh she’d be tempted to lean back and take a peek under it. A long, thin scar swept across his face from his forehead, over his eye and down his cheek with a matching small one across both lips. Sweat soaked his dirt-smudged skin and glittered in the candlelight. “Sorin?” Hot damn, she hadn’t really noticed his maleness until now. She’d been looking at this world through fear-goggles all day.

Ahote was sexy but Sorin was an untamed animal.

His chest heaved as he scanned the room. “You’re alone?”

She sat up slowly. “Yes. You just missed Kele if you’re looking for her.”

His piercing amber gaze met hers. “Why would I want her?” He shoved the almost-unhinged door closed behind him with one hand.

Why indeed? Susan swallowed a lump in her throat and glanced at the pallet she lay upon. “Last I saw you were chained up. Are they letting you go?” She highly doubted the pack would release a strange male within their den unaccompanied. “Kele should be back any minute.”