Lords of the Were (12 page)

Allie nodded. “How—um, how would we know whose it is?” Tim stepped right up to her, cupping her face so she would meet his eyes. “Would it matter so much, Allie? Rafe and I are identical in every way. You’re the only person who can really even tell us apart.”

“You may look the same on the outside, but inside, where it counts,” her voice was surprisingly impassioned, “you’re two separate individuals, each unique and special. But the identical twin thing would make it really hard to tell—even scientifically—which of you fathered any children we might have.”

Rafe sighed, stroking her shoulder. “Don’t you think we’ve thought about that?”

She looked up at him and his breath caught in his chest. The light in her eyes, the way she could tell who was who was unique in their world.

She was unique.

“And?” she prompted him.

Rafe had to scramble for the thread of the conversation. Her beauty sidetracked him every time. Luckily Tim was there to complete his thoughts—as they often did for one another. They were a team from the moment they’d been conceived and would always be.

“And though it would be nice to know, we don’t see how it’s possible.

We have one last person we could ask, but if Betina doesn’t see a way, then we’ll just have to live with it.”

Rafe stroked her arm. “It wouldn’t be so bad really. Any children we have will be all of ours. We’ll all raise them and love them all the same regardless of which sperm did the job.”

“You guys are amazing.” Allie shook her head with a soft smile that enchanted Rafe so much he had to lean down and kiss her.

“No, Allie, you’re the amazing one.”

Rafe and Tim spent the remainder of the evening going over the history of the were, explaining the various tribes, packs and clans, though it was a great deal of information for anyone to take in at one time. Rafe admired the way Allie tried to keep it all straight in her mind and the innocent way she blinked at some of their explanations. She was worming her way deeper and deeper into his heart with every move, every gesture.

“There are various kinds of supernaturals,” Tim was saying “Were folk are only one of many.”

“Betty mentioned something about, um, vampires?” Allie’s voice lifted in question as if she couldn’t quite believe she was having this

conversation. Rafe had to chuckle, though Tim treated her question with all seriousness.

“Bloodletters,” he spat the word. “They don’t mix with our kind.

Actually, few of the supernatural races mix well with others. Even all were folk don’t quite get along. There are the natural oppositions of canine and cat, predator and prey, but for the most part we can overcome our animal natures to deal well enough with one another. We understand each other to some extent, the difficulties and challenges of being were, which is not something that can be said for the other races.”

“Who could possibly understand a bloodletter?” Rafe added. “I mean, some of those folks are downright ancient. They originated in different times, with different customs and I can only imagine the things they’ve seen and done over their centuries. Although were folk do live longer than humans, we’re not as close to immortal as they are. It puts a wedge between them and any other folk—except perhaps the fey.”

“You mean like fairies?” Allie giggled. “Who knew Tinkerbell was real?”

“The few I’ve seen don’t care for the Disney analogy, Allie, so if you ever have a run-in with any of the fey, be careful about mentioning that sort of thing.”

“Why? What could they do to me?”

“Good question.” Tim sat back in his chair. “The fey have enormous power in their own realm. Their powers are somewhat limited here in our world, but still quite formidable. They use magic with almost cavalier abandon since it never seems to drain them. Not like with human magic users.”

“Magic is their domain,” Rafe said thoughtfully. “They could transport you to their realm, drag you Underhill where time passes in strange ways. When they finally let you go, everything you know could have changed, everyone you knew could be gone. Or a really angry and

malicious fey could transform you into something, hex you or curse you.

All in all, it’s better to steer clear of them and if you do cross paths with one, treat them with extra respect.”

Allie nodded solemnly, her eyes so wide, Rafe just had to lean down and kiss her on the nose. She was so beautiful, she stole his breath and brought out his mischievous side.

“Now as for magic users, mages, witches, warlocks, sorcerers and the like—”

She held up a hand. “Let me guess, you steer clear of them too.”

“Nobody likes a smart ass, Allie,” Rafe grinned at her, “but yes, human mages are just as unpredictable as the rest, though there are a few—like you, for example—who are utterly trustworthy.”

“Those few who have dedicated their lives and their power to the service of the Lady are our allies and we have vowed to protect them,” Tim added. “Almost all were, with few exceptions, adhere to this pact, though it wasn’t always so. Betina forged the alliance and she’s the one who’s helped keep it strong, even after the devastating loss of your mother and her mates.”

“When your mother was murdered, our people lost their leaders as well. The tribes, packs and clans were thrown into turmoil for a time until Tim and I could establish ourselves. We were fourteen at the time, so it was a tough fight. We’d only just learned to shift the year before and weren’t comfortable in our skins yet.”

“We had to fight a lot in those early days to establish our place. Allie,” Tim’s voice grew even more somber. “I know were customs can seem brutal to humans, but when our authority is challenged, we have to face all threats. Most often that means a fight, sometimes a fight to the death.

When such things happen, you can’t interfere or object, no matter how much you might want to.”

“But that’s barbaric!”

Rafe sighed. “It’s were law. Tim and I are the leaders of all were on this continent. Our word is law, but even we are not above the law. The laws have been passed down through generations to us and we’re left with them to uphold and see carried out. There aren’t many and they aren’t complex, but one of the most sacred is the right of challenge. It’s part of our very natures to fight to settle disputes and only the strongest of us can lead. For this generation, that’s Tim and me. We’ve proven it time and again, and we’ll continue to prove it when some fool is stupid enough to challenge us.”

He saw her eyes widen at his vehement response but she had to know the truth. She had to understand the way it was for them. They were were wolves first, lords of all were for their generation, and the safety of the were and the continuation of their various species had to take precedence over her more human sensibilities.

This was one time when her being raised away from her people was a true detriment. She didn’t understand their ways, even though she was half-were herself. Even if she couldn’t shift, she had the instincts of her sires somewhere buried deep down inside, Rafe would bet his life on it.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Tim said around a yawn. “We have time yet to tackle all of this. Betina is coming in the morning and she’ll begin working with you on harnessing your magic.” Tim stood and shrugged out of his shirt. Rafe knew he had to do the same. Where his brother went, he had to go as well. They’d discussed this earlier while they were in the kitchen after dinner. They’d agreed they needed to put a little bit of space between themselves and Allie, just for a short time.

Both of them had seen the fear in her eyes when she thought they weren’t looking. Both of them had seen the questions, the distraught expressions that passed over her features when she thought of them

together. She needed time, they decided, to come to terms with this new relationship, and they vowed to give her as much time as they could.

Rafe stood and shucked his clothing, laying it regretfully on the couch.

“Where are you going?”

“Not far, sweetheart,” Rafe assured her though his heart felt a pang of longing as he stroked his hand down her soft arm. “We’ll be near if you need us, but we have to go out tonight.” The brothers had also agreed not to tell her of this particular plan.

She didn’t need to know why they were stepping back, it would only embarrass or perhaps anger her. No, she just needed some time and they would give it to her.

“Will you be back before morning at least?” Rafe sighed as he moved toward the back patio doors with his brother. “We’ll try. But don’t be afraid. If you need us, just call. We’ll be nearby.”

He could see the questions in her beautiful eyes, but couldn’t face them. With a quick kiss, he left her standing near the door as he padded out after Tim. He sought the change quickly before he gave in to selfish desire and went back to her. This was for the best, he knew. She needed space, and space was what he would give her, even though he wanted nothing more than to sink between her luscious thighs and stay inside her for the rest of his life.

After a long night spent tossing and turning, Allie awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Tim and Rafe had been busy, leaving a tray of steaming food on the table at the side of the bed, but neither of them were anywhere to be seen.

Breakfasting in bed made her feel decadent and cherished, as did the small bouquet of wildflowers in a little vase on one corner of the tray. She recognized some of the herbal flowers from the nearby forest, but some were foreign to her. All were enchanting, as was the thought of her two strong men picking them with their big hands for her.

“Ah, sleeping beauty awakes.” Rafe winked at her from the doorway, looking altogether too sexy for this early in the morning. “Betina is waiting for you downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

“What time is it?” It couldn’t be that late yet, could it?

Rafe chuckled as she scrambled for her watch on the nightstand. “It’s after ten, sweetheart. You looked so peaceful, we didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Oh my gosh! I haven’t slept this late in years.”

“It’s been an eventful few days.”

Rafe came over and took the now-empty tray off her lap. “Why don’t you grab a shower? Betina can wait a few more minutes. She said she’s going to be working with you all day and asked Tim and I to vamoose.

Something about masculine energy interfering with her magic. I didn’t follow it all myself.”

She leaned up and kissed him, unable to resist, but he moved back after only a quick peck.

“You’ve got to get moving. I promised I’d get you up, not waylay you.” He stood and she followed suit, yelping when he swatted her ass on the way to the attached bathroom as he took the tray out into the hall.

The men were gone by the time Allie made her way downstairs, but the scent of coffee lingered. She filled her mug before meeting Betina in the living room with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry, I overslept.”

“Not to worry, dear. I bet those boys tired you out.”

“I wish,” Allie muttered into her coffee cup as Betina laughed.

“Don’t let them bedevil you. They’re good boys, but they can be a handful.”

Allie chose not to comment and after a few preliminaries, Betina got down to the serious work of the day. That work proved to be teaching Allie about magical shielding. It all sounded so foreign at first, but after a while Allie began to sense the energies Betty talked about and was able to direct them in subtle ways as Betty coached her.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and Betina seemed pleased at the end of the long day when she said Allie was able to put up at least a rudimentary shield, which was apparently an important thing. Betina left her with homework too. She was to practice putting up and taking down the shield energies in ever larger spherical shapes around herself and around objects. She had to try to do it quickly. To call upon the energy fast and redirect it even faster. It was hard, tiring work, but Betty’s praise seemed to make it all worthwhile.

Travel was always tedious for one of his kind, but it had become much more simplified now that Dante had his own airplane. The technology of the modern world had it hands down over the slower methods of the past. As long as he had enough money, a vampire could manage very well in this modern world. A pilot’s license didn’t hurt either.

Dante had been feeding off the magic user for a few weeks now, enjoying the little charge the magicked blood gave him. He’d fed from the dregs of humanity for too long—the inconsolable, the unhappy and those who searched endlessly for meaning in their limited existences. Such were the inhabitants of the bars and clubs he’d been trolling for the past few decades, and he realized only now, with fresh magic user blood flowing in him, he’d become as desolate and barren in his endless existence as those poor mortals he preyed upon.

Truly, you are what you eat.

He felt energized to a new degree, able to work up resentment again at the unfair way the were had interfered with Erik’s path. Erik had been a young warlock, just testing his gift for firestarting. If truth be told, Dante had gravitated toward Erik simply because he looked so much like his long-dead younger brother, Elian. Both Elian and Erik shared that same devil-may-care smile and lust for living that Dante believed had died within him the day he was transformed into the immortal being he was now.

Erik was only testing his powers, a successful young blacksmith living in nineteenth century Chicago. He used his firestarting gift in his work as a blacksmith, able to heat iron with nothing but his magic gift.

His work was good, his muscles strong, like Elian’s had been from wielding a sword from a young age. The look of the two men, born centuries apart and on different continents, was eerily similar as well.

Both had the longish, dark hair, sparkling blue eyes and roguish grin Dante remembered nostalgically to this very day.

When Dante’s horse threw a shoe, he’d found Erik the blacksmith quite by accident and had been struck dumb by the firewitch’s uncanny resemblance to Elian. Erik, in addition to being a gifted blacksmith and a budding firewitch, also had a certain sensitivity. He could tell Dante wasn’t quite the foreign traveler he seemed and was wary at first, asking questions most mortals wouldn’t dare put to a centuries-old vampire.