Dire Wants (14 page)

Chapter 22

“W
e’re close,” Stray told her. They’d been driving around for the better part of half an hour, Stray stopping every once in a while to stand outside the car, breathing in the night air. Kate longed to join him, but her legs still trembled when she realized how much was on all their shoulders.

She was secretly hoping this turned out to be some kind of crazy prank.

Why would he joke about something like this?

He wouldn’t. He’d been dead serious. And her hands were shaking again.

Wordlessly, Stray reached into the backseat and pulled out an open bottle of Jack Daniel’s, handed it to her. She took a sip, winced and asked, “Why does Leo Shimmin hate wolves?”

“It’s a long story, stretching back to Viking times.” He paused. “They started out wanting to avenge the deaths of their ancestors, but over the centuries, it’s twisted into something horrible. They’re called weretrappers and they want to enslave wolves and take over the world. And I realize it sounds like the plot of some horror novel, which makes it worse, because it can happen. It will, if you don’t help. And humans are clueless.”

“I can’t believe . . .” She stopped because she tried to imagine and couldn’t. “I know there have been instances where humans have tried to eradicate others, but . . .”

“It’s going to be worse, because the wolves are strong. Coupled with the black arts, the demons, well, not only are they going to gain control, but they’ll lose it just as fast to the very powers they’re trying to control. They’re playing with fire, and everyone is going down because of it. Except us.”

“How does helping your brother work into all of this?”

“Rogue can communicate with the spirit world that Seb is conjuring. And in order to help him, we have to kill the witch who’s calling to you. Many of his spells will live on without him, but not the one he placed on my brother. Seb’s got other witches working spells, but he’s the most important one.”

“I have to kill an immortal witch. How exactly is that supposed to work?”

“You could try to force Seb to become mortal, to give up his powers.”

“And hurt another girl like me.”

“And save billions of people.”

Another half an hour and several more swigs from the bottle, she realized two things—her head couldn’t spin enough to rid her of what Stray filled it with, and she couldn’t get drunk.

Stray looked sympathetic, but he hadn’t held anything back. “That book of magic’s looking pretty good now, isn’t it?”

“Suppose I can’t—”

“You can. The witch who touched you was as powerful as Seb, maybe more so. And you’re almost to your twenty-third birthday . . .”

“It’s tomorrow,” she said quietly. “Exactly ten years from the time the witch touched me. Happy birthday to me.”

“You’ll need a lot more than that bottle to get drunk,” he confirmed. “It’s your power—it absorbs . . . everything.”

“That sucks,” she muttered, took another vicious swig in defiance. She should be saying, “I want to go home,” but that basement apartment wasn’t home. Nothing had been since the accident, maybe wouldn’t be again. “Stray, I can’t do anything you’re asking of me.”

“You will. I’ll help you.”

“If I can’t—”

“A whole lot of people die. Innocent ones.”

“So I take one life to save many?”

“That’s the basic idea.”

They rode in silence for several more minutes until Stray suddenly turned along a dirt road that seemed to lead to nowhere. Finally, it opened to a small parcel of land and a decent-sized cabin.

“That’s Lila’s—your witch. It’s spelled still so no one can simply stumble upon it,” Stray said. “The grimoire recognizes us, so that’s a good sign.”

“Lila,” she repeated. “That’s a pretty name.” It was the first time she’d felt anything but anger or fear toward the witch.

Lila’s cabin was well off the beaten path. As far as she could tell, they were an hour from the Dire house. As she approached the porch, lightning split the sky, a brilliant display of angry light and crackling noise as it struck the ground close by.

She swallowed hard. “That’s for us, isn’t it?”

Stray didn’t answer, pulled her inside the cabin. When he looked back at her, his eyes were what he called Brother Wolf’s—and he was hunting something.

She held tight to his hand as he navigated the pitch black of the cabin easily. She heard the scurrying of small animals, tried not to think about spiders and God knew what else until he stopped and began to dig at the floorboards.

She held the flashlight where he was working, for her benefit, not his. But then he got up in frustration and began to tap the walls, looking for hollow spots. She moved the flashlight off him and on to the rest of the room.

Before her eyes, it turned from grimy and old to new and sparkling, how it must’ve been when her witch—Lila—lived. She turned fast as though someone had her by the shoulders, guiding her, until she stopped in one of the corners opposite from where Stray worked.

“This is all magic,” she said, her hushed tones holding a trace of awe. She touched the walls and then she went inexplicably to a place in the corner. With a touch of a finger, it opened. She reached into the dark cabinet tentatively, drew out a large, heavy box.

Her entire body flushed with heat, and she couldn’t resist sitting on the dirty, dusty floor and opening it.

When she opened it, she knew she’d come home.

A book. Leather-bound with gold writing—a language she shouldn’t understand but did.

Her mother’s family name was written on the inside pages and her breath caught. “My mother . . . she was a witch,” she murmured to herself. “Lila . . . she was related to me. It really is my bloodline. It was there the entire time.”

It was too late for her to wonder if things could’ve been different, to wish her mother had embraced this, helped her. She could only move forward, and with the book’s help, she would.

“Kate, did you find it?” Stray asked, but he knew she had. His wolf felt it, her surge of energy and power as she cradled the book of magic in her hands.

She looked up at him with a smile. “I’m not helpless anymore.”

“You never were, Kate.”

She let those words sink in for a long moment and then put the flashlight back on the book. She flipped through while Stray waited patiently in the dark.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, drinking all of it in—her history. The writing was perfect, black ink on thick parchment paper. She traced a finger along the words that told of her destiny. “I was meant for this. She—Lila—always knew she’d pick me, out of all of the witches in her line. Do you believe in fate?”

“Yeah, I do.”

His voice sounded a little odd, but she was too involved in the book to give him her attention. “It’s all true, Stray. The wolves—you’re mentioned here. Weres. And Dires. Your name is in this book.” She stared up at him. “Did you know that?”

“No. But I’m not surprised. Good witches tend to like us.”

“Because you’re good wolves.”

“We try, Kate.” Another burst of lightning outlined his frame, and a surge of want coursed through her.

“There’s more.” Her finger ran down the calligraphy. “Vampires. Shifters. Weretrappers . . .”

She trailed off and read a little more about them. “That’s what Leo Shimmin is.”

“Yes. Look, Kate, we can’t stay here. Hold tight to the grimoire. It’s yours.”

Indeed, the gold seemed to . . . glow, somehow, like it had honed in on her presence. “No one can take it from me?”

“No. It’s part of you. Come on, now.” He held out a hand, and she put the book back in the box and then under her jacket., holding it there with her arm. With her free hand, she took his help. Didn’t let go of his hand until it was time to get into the truck.

Chapter 23

T
he lights in the truck flickered seconds later, followed by a burst of lightning.

“I didn’t do that,” Kate told him.

Stray looked out the front windshield at the sky. He could see perfectly in the dark. He took her in hand as he sniffed the air, and the lingering scent of burning sky filled his nostrils.

Unnatural, all of it. “We have to go now.”

But even as he said it, he wasn’t sure they’d make it back.

No choice
, Brother Wolf said. He locked the doors and prayed the electrical system in the car would hold out.

As they backtracked through the woods, the lightning continued to flare, but somehow, the barrage of rain he expected didn’t happen. When he looked over at Kate, she had her bare hands on the cover of the book and she seemed to be concentrating. Maybe getting them out of there safely had everything to do with her, or maybe not, but he wasn’t questioning it.

And yet she looked so damned pale. Her breathing was shallow and when she turned to look at him, the circles under her eyes made her look wan and drawn.

He jammed the car into reverse and headed back toward the cabin and its magical properties. That’s where the current battle was being waged. He couldn’t read her mind, and that scared him more than anything.

She doesn’t need you if she’s not calling for you.

Or maybe the opposite was true—maybe this was when she needed him the most.

As dangerous as it was, the witch in her needed to be outside. He understood that pull all too well, and he granted her wish. He got out and ran to her door.

“Stray, I—”

Her strength was crumbling. Saying
Trust me
would mean nothing. He picked her up and carried her out of the truck, because showing was always better than telling.

Her connection to the moon would be as strong as his—he had little doubt. She’d feel better outside, but she probably didn’t know that.

Once out in the open air with him, he attempted to shield her with his body from the raindrops that fell, fat and uneven, like they were being held back by her power. She still held tight to the grimoire.

He noted Vice and Cyd were half out of their truck too, covering both him and Kate with guns and their wolves, if necessary.

But guns and wolves had little to no effect on magic. It was up to Kate this time, and he prayed she could see it through. Even a small victory at this point would be enough.

Kate breathed easier as soon as the open air hit her.

He placed her down under the shimmery orb and immediately her center of balance returned. She put her free hand on her belly as everything shifted right-side up again. Better than before . . . better than it had been since the accident, when every night she’d run inside at dark and wait under the covers for the dawn.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“The moon calls to wolves and witches,” Stray explained. Kate was holding him, her eyes shimmering, and he wondered if this would make the brand on her back disappear. “It’s not always pleasant, but it’s easier if you don’t fight her.”

The lightning hit so close, she jumped. “We shouldn’t be out here.”

“We have to be—you’ve got to stop this. It’s Seb.”

“I’m not ready. I need more time.”

“You don’t have time,” he told her. “You’ve got to get your shit together fast. Stop thinking. Start feeling. This month has two full moons—Seb will no doubt try to use the power of the first one, and if that fails, he’s got a backup. And no one’s recovered from the shit that already happened last month. Gwen’s so . . . new, Rifter and Jinx are battling . . . We’ve got a lot of road to cover.”

“And all I have to do is start feeling?”

“Yes.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It has to be.”

* * *

Kate had protected herself from feeling anything for so long—until this wolf had come to her rescue—and now everything she felt was scaring her. It was rising up, threatening to take away every ounce of control she’d ever had—and she’d long ago discovered that her losing control was a frightening prospect.

Not for Stray, though. For the wolves, loss of control was accepted. Necessary. Wanted, even.

“I don’t like feeling out of control.”

“Then control it,” Stray told her.

“I don’t know how.”

“Try.”

She closed her eyes and let the thoughts swirl around her. It was too much—she wasn’t grounded.

“You’re . . . vibrating,” she called over the roar.

“So are you,” he pointed out.

She wanted to be scared—should be—but with Stray holding her, the grimoire holding her past and future, she was anything but.

The rain hadn’t started again, but the lightning rolled through the sky. She waited for the familiar beats of thunder in between the bolts, but none came.

“These storms—they’re man-made.”

“Witch-made,” Stray corrected as the electricity tingled along her skin.

She put the fingertips of one hand against the grimoire. “He’s really strong.”

“So are you.”

Her first instinct was to deny it, but she couldn’t. Stray was right. Now she just had to figure out how to utilize her powers.

The tingling continued, like the storm was calling her out, literally. Before Stray could stop her, she was out the back door and walking unprotected into the rain.

The brand flared and something . . . someone was guiding her. She tucked the book between her knees and put her hands up to the sky as if she could absorb the spell that held it there.

“Kate?”

Stray was behind her and suddenly she wasn’t alone or unprotected. It made her body surge, a powerful sensation. She kept her palms up toward the sky, closed her eyes, and concentrated on trying to push the storm away. It felt so ridiculously bold and yet completely right at the same time.

“The end of the moon is the most effective time for magic. Fuck your chakras. Roll your goddamned power out,” he murmured.

She felt the moon’s power and Stray’s protective presence, and she chanted in a language she’d never studied but knew as instinctively as she knew her own name.

She didn’t see anything at all happening in the dark, but Stray must have. The low, throaty growls ripped from his throat, and she dropped her hands, grabbed the grimoire and turned to face him.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Very. We’re stronger than they are. Good always is.”

“It really worked,” she breathed.

“It’s white magic, but you’ll be fighting the dark arts,” he told her. “It’s going to be dangerous for you.”

Under the heavy rain, he kissed her. Drew her close and ravaged her mouth while she clung to him, ignoring everything but the lust that rose like hot steam around them.

She heard car doors slam, remembered they hadn’t been alone out here. But Stray didn’t care, and neither did she as his hands traveled along her body, under her sweater. His thumbs brushed her nipples and she jolted, because they’d been aching for his touch. He rolled them lightly between his fingers and she gasped as her womb contracted, wished he would pull her sweater off and put his mouth to her breasts.

To that end, she wound her fingers from her free hand in his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, never letting go of either Stray or the grimoire. Electricity that had swirled around them now danced between them, locking them together in a heated embrace.

* * *

It was a tease—a delicious, amazing, mind-fucking tease. Stray gripped her ass and rolled her pelvis against his aching cock, wanted nothing more than to drive into her. Sitting, standing, upsidefuckingdown, it didn’t matter.

If this went on much longer, he wasn’t going to be able to stop. As it was, Kate was in danger of going over the edge herself, and he planned on riding this out until she came to her senses.

At least Vice had the good sense to back his truck down the hill.

Maybe this is because of Vice
. Whenever that Dire was around, everyone’s feelings were more intense, harder to control.

But he knew it was all about him and Kate and nothing else. Animal attraction, but it was more than that. He’d been attracted to a lot of Weres over the past years, but none had ever affected him like this.

He pulled away from the kiss and buried his face in her hair—her scent killed him, flat out slayed him the way it had from day one, made every overeager, possessive alpha male need roar out of him like a freight train without brakes.

“Kate, this is—”

“Touch me,” she told him. “I love when you touch me.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He pushed her shirt up to touch her with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth lightly scraping her nipples until she gasped, a sound that echoed through the now-quiet night. He was glad she wasn’t wearing a bra, and his fingers trailed down her belly between her legs, finding no barrier there either.

His fingers stroked her wetness. He wanted her to come apart, wanted that above his own need, even as his heavy cock ached for release.

“Come for me, Kate. Come on, beautiful—let it all go.”

His thumb circled her clit and she orgasmed instantly, her contractions making her knees weak. He held her so she didn’t fall, let her ride out the pleasure until she got her breath and her bearings.

The rain that had been ferocious until that point stopped then, the sky lit up. And he knew the deluge would begin again in minutes, but it didn’t matter. For that moment, they’d stopped the rain together, and he didn’t know if it was because they were witch and familiar or witch and wolf—or mates.