Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) (16 page)

“
Meh.
” I shook my head. “He loves quoting ancient prophecies.”

He glared. “Fine. Shiloh’s a witch with magickal powers who hunts demons. She’s the prophetic protector of this town. Don’t tell anyone.”

Brittany nudged Kayla in the ribs. “Told you she was weird.”

“I’m
not
weird! It’s my, um, birthright to protect innocents, and uh…” I sputtered to a stop.

“You are so narcissistic.” Brittany rolled her eyes. “Birthright, huh? Is that what people told you? Sheesh, what a recruiting line.”

“This is serious! I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but I’m destined to fight supernatural baddies, like Evans explained. Someday I’ll lift the town curse.”

“There’s a curse, too?” Brittany slumped in her seat. “Super.”

“More like a cursed
place,
” I said. “Fallen Oaks is a paranormal paradise for things with sharp teeth and claws that prowl the night.” And didn’t I know it.

Once I’d finished retaking a test after school, I strode out to the parking lot. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice two people arguing until a loud male voice rang out. The tone nasty and disgusted. Glancing at the gym, I spotted Daniel and his dad, Coach Ramírez, standing near the double doors. Football practice must’ve just ended.

“You are such a huge disappointment to your mother and me!”

I froze and leaned against the Jeep, out of view. The Devil’s Mark warmed. My scar pulsed like blood behind a wound.

“It was bad enough you missed that pass at our last game, especially after everything we’ve done to improve the team,” Coach Ramírez said in a harsh voice as they crossed the lot.

We?
As in he and Carter? Huh, my hunch was right about Carter being the alpha. I made a wicked good detective.

“But now you’re fumbling the catches, too.” The coach gripped the handle of his cane, his knuckles white from tension. His stride was slow, each step determined and heavy.

“Just having an off week, Dad.”

I should just get in my Jeep and leave. I shouldn’t eavesdrop on what was obviously none of my business. And what was sure to turn into a big, ugly scene. Yup, it was just wrong, wrong, wrong.

So I crouched by the door and peered over the Jeep’s hood. They paused beside their cars. Coach Ramírez began to pace. The thump of his cane on the pavement reverberated off the buildings. Daniel reclined on his Camaro, arms crossed and frowning.

Coach Ramírez cleared his throat. “Have you forgotten how important this next game is? If we win, it means the team will
finally
have a chance at the regional championship. But not if you can’t get your head in the game!”

“Don’t sweat it, Dad.” Daniel dug both hands deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts, and the hard shapes of his fists bulged beneath the fabric.

“Don’t patronize me, boy,” Coach Ramírez continued his rant. “Or I’ll put your ass on the bench for the rest of the season. It was difficult enough to get the other players to agree with the plan, but because of who and what you are, I expected you to excel this year” —he shook his head and scowled— “rather than fail. You’re the damn quarterback! You need to lead the team, son…” Coach Ramírez hesitated and limped forward, the rough click of his cane striking the asphalt.

“My ex-girlfriend was murdered, and now my friends are changing into…into major assholes! So sorry if my
head
isn’t in the game,” Daniel snapped.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Then Coach Ramírez’s voice softened. “Still having night sweats?”

“Majorly, and I can’t sleep. My joints and muscles are aching constantly. What the hell is
this
doing to us?”

“It simply gave you extra strength, speed, and aggression so we can start winning some games. Aren’t you tired of being on the worst team in the league? We’re the laughingstock of the county. Haven’t won a state championship in over ten years.”

The tension rippling off father and son swelled like an ominous cloud.

“It’s poisoning our bodies, Dad. Carter is even more aggressive now than he was
before
all this happened, and Michael awoke in the woods next to a partially eaten animal carcass. This is so messed up.”

Maybe I’d been focusing too closely on Carter. What if the real killer was the coach…or possibly Daniel? Nah, it had to be Carter. But I was pretty sure that Coach Ramírez wouldn’t be opposed to Carter biting the other players, because he was the only one with an actual real motive—win the state championship with his super-powered football team.

Leaning as far as his cane would allow, Coach Ramírez regarded his son. His look sharp, his jaw set. “We
had
to do it. My career was on the line. It was the only way. Besides, we did those boys a favor.” His aura flared above his head, like a lurid crown so dense and russet, it pulsated.

“No, you cursed them!” Daniel grunted and kicked at the ground with a worn sneaker wrapped in duct-tape.

“How can you say that? They’ll have longevity and inhuman strength now!
You’re
the team’s only weak link. Quit suppressing your lupine tendencies. Embrace your birthright.”

Whoa—wait.
Lupine?

My heart revved like a Lamborghini. Steroids will beef up muscles, create aggression, and make it so guys can’t have babies. Steroids
don’t
turn boys into wild animals. But after witnessing Carter in the locker room practically morphing into
Teen Wolf
and overhearing this strange conversation, my hunch about the players was finally proven correct.

They were lycans. And I was pretty sure that Carter was the alpha.

“I never asked for it and I don’t want it,” Daniel said.

Coach Ramírez took a step toward his son and I flinched as Daniel did, certain he was going to be smacked upside the head. “Don’t you
ever
say that. Your family is a proud race. Your ancestors were once highly respected in this town. Now I need you to rise to our expectations by accepting your visceral instincts.” Then he straightened and scratched his greyish head. “And what’s this I hear about you spending time with Shiloh Trudell?”

Ah, crap. That’s me.

“Yeah. She’s cool. Why?”

“Shiloh’s witnessed the lycanthrope rite of passage. We must get rid of her,” Coach Ramírez said. “Before she tells anyone.”

Daniel’s face paled. “What do you mean by
get rid of her
?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean, young man.”

My chest tightened.

My chest tightened as James McMillian’s warning rang inside my head:
Sounded like someone verbally signed your death warrant.

I wanted desperately to cling to the rumors about the Giants abusing steroids. But the coach had said something more—he’d said Daniel’s family was a proud race. Not a proud family. And I was pretty sure what race Coach was referring to. The Ramírez family had once been the
Wardens
of the Sheol. Their ancestors were lycans. Hell, the whole conversation confirmed it.

And Coach Ramírez had to be the one helping Carter—the alpha—bite the boys. Bad, bad coach.

Breath caught in my throat and I worked hard to suppress a low keening that fought to burst from my mouth. Coach Ramírez might be my dad’s murderer. I’d been so sure that Carter was the killer—the alpha lycan. I’d been so focused on him that I had ruled out any other suspects.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

My chest hurt like I was having a heart attack. First Carter attacking us in the locker room, and now this. How much could one girl handle on her own?

I quietly opened the Jeep’s door and slipped onto the seat. Staying as low as I could, I waited until their cars cleared the lot before I called Ariana.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said into the phone as soon as she answered. “Um, I don’t know how to say this, but I think Daniel’s dad is helping the alpha turn kids into hybrids.”

Silence. If it weren’t for her harsh breathing into the receiver, I would’ve assumed that she’d hung up on me.

“Ariana?”

“Yeah. I heard you. I just can’t wrap my head around it,” she whispered.

I could tell by her voice that she was having a hard time believing that her crush’s dad was part of the lycan-football-player conspiracy.

“Before you go accusing the coach or anyone else for the attacks, Shiloh, we need to find some proof. Agreed?”

“Yeah, okay,” I replied.

“
And
we need to get Daniel’s side of the story before we make any crude judgments,” she said wearily, and then hung up.

Ariana was right. Sheriff Boyd couldn’t arrest Carter or Coach Ramírez without some type of evidence. But even without proof, if his father had killed mine, he wouldn’t get away with it
.

Leaning against the headboard, I sat on my bed and booted my laptop. I had important things to do.

First, I checked my Facebook page and updated my status. Then I read several book reviews on the latest dystopian novel posted by a few awesome bloggers. Next, I browsed comments about a new action movie on Twitter. Then it was finally time for more lycan research. Well, that and Googling the guys on the football team. Though my suspect list was pretty much narrowed down to Carter Lampard and Coach Ramírez.

I shifted my weight on the bed and knocked over a textbook. I hadn’t done much studying lately and my grades were suffering. I was screwing up, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I had bigger things to worry about. Like murderous lycans. Like not letting the murderer—if it was a football player turned lycan—attack any more of my classmates. And stuff like my boyfriend going all evil.

Not finding much useful information on Google or social media, I closed my laptop. I quickly sent out a mass text inviting all my friends to meet at the lake tomorrow. My cell phone buzzed seconds after sending the text. A message from Trent.

Trent:
Whatcha wearing, sexy?

I rolled my eyes and texted:
Get your mind out of the gutter.

Trent:
Prefer a different topic?

Me:
Yes.
Overheard Coach Ramírez and Daniel talking in the parking lot after school.

Trent:
What happened?

I swallowed, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Could Coach Ramírez really be a coldblooded killer? Was it possible?

Me:
Coach Ramírez or Daniel might be involved somehow with the attacks.

Trent:
No way. Are you sure?

Me:
Definitely. Can you come to the meeting tomorrow?

Trent:
Yeah, I’ll be there. But Daniel? Really? You think he could be the killer?

Me:
No. But he knows something. We’ll talk to him and learn the truth…

Trent:
What if we accuse him and you’re wrong?

My fingers halted typing and I stared at the phone.

Me:
I’m not. Trust me.

Trent:
I’ve got your back, but I still can’t believe it.
Did you say anything to Ari?

Me:
Yes and it did NOT go over too well.

Trent:
Not surprised.

I changed the subject.

Me:
Are you at home? What are you doing right now?

Trent:
Hold on. BRB.

Yawning loudly, all I could think about was crawling under the blankets and passing out until morning.

Tap. Tap, tap.

The tapping was coming from the window. After setting my phone down on the desk, I crossed the room and lifted the blind. No way. Trent had climbed the trellis and was smiling through the glass.

“Let me in,” he said.

I slid the window open. A breath of chilly autumn air puffed past the curtains, and my boyfriend shimmied through. His feet landed on the hardwood floor, ten he turned to close the window with a feeble squeak. Weak moonlight touched his tawny brown hair that usually lightened up to a dark blond in the summer months. He was casually dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, designer jeans, and leather sneakers.

Trent glanced around. “Darrah home?”

“Nope. All by my lonesome. Why? What are you doing here?”

He stalked across the room with long strides, stopped at the door, and locked it.

“Um, Trent?”

He turned on his heel and surveyed the room. When his gaze found mine again, I was uncomfortably aware of the thin white tank clinging to my skin—no bra and see-through—and my legs clad in boyshorts that felt seriously cold, seriously thin, and seriously unshaven.

My cheeks were as hot as stove burners and I was amazed steam wasn’t rising off my skin. I glanced downward, at least my toes were neatly trimmed and polished, a sparkling pink. Maybe I could just slip into the bathroom and use that razor that’s been collecting dust…

“I just came by to see you,” He moved toward me, his sneakers crushing the plush rug. “I was missing my girl.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s past midnight. You’re gonna get busted for being out after curfew.”

“Yeah, right.” He raised an eyebrow. “Thought we might have a sleepover.”

Of course, he wasn’t worried about the curfew, because he had that totally hot rebel thing going on.

My heart did a funny flip in my chest. “As in…staying here all night?”

He wickedly grinned. “And they say you’re not quick.”

I leaned against the desk and rolled my eyes. “Shut up. Seriously, though, you can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” His gaze flicked to the bed. The room suddenly grew smaller, the space between us even tinier. “Please?”

I sighed. “Okay. But no funny stuff, Mr. Donovan.”

“Never.” He kicked off his sneakers and tugged off his shirt over his head. The action revealed a well-muscled torso and taut belly that was hairless above his cute innie bellybutton. His low-slung jeans revealed hip-dents and a tantalizing line of pale hair that dipped below his waistband. He plopped onto the bed, laced one arm behind his head, and patted the space beside him. “Get over here.”

Trent waited. An odd twinge struck me in the chest. I curled up beside him, settling onto the mattress. He slipped an arm behind me and I rested my head on his chest, stretching my arm across his stomach, snuggling as close to him as I could. My eyes fluttered closed and his body heat warmed mine.

This was the perfect time to talk to Trent about what I’d discovered about his heritage. But somehow, the words wouldn’t push past my lips. I mentally shrugged. It could wait. After all, I was fearless, strong, and an expert secret-keeper. I would find the right time to tell him that he was the spawn of evil—
a cambion
, just not tonight.

As if echoing my thoughts, he whispered, “I don’t wanna lose you, Shiloh.”

I snuggled closer, my cheek resting on his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you, either. Why so serious? What are you worried about?”

“Dealing with these lycans is getting dangerous. What happens if you get hurt, but this time in the middle of an attack, I’m not there to protect you?”

“Trent, I can handle this. I like helping others and protecting innocents against the supernatural baddies. It…it helps me to get through the darker days, you know?”

He sighed heavily. “I get all that, but it doesn’t make me stop worrying.” His arms tightened around me. His tone deepened and lowered. “If any of those lycans lay even a claw on you again, then they’ll have to answer to me.”

“What’s with the protective vibe? Isn’t the reason that you’re training me is so I can defend myself and fight paranormals?”

Trent lifted his head. “Yeah…but I’m never gonna be okay with you chasing lycans around or putting yourself in danger, you can’t change that.”

“And you can’t change the fact that evil is gonna keep coming after me. And that I have innocents who need my protection.”

Trent blew out another sigh and dropped his head back down on the pillow. “I understand all that, but I don’t have to like it.” Trent kissed the top of my head. “I care about you and I don’t want anything to happen to you.
Ever.
Is that so wrong?”

“No…” I kissed his neck.

He shifted and pressed closer to me. Every inch of skin was suddenly aware of Trent’s body, too wrapped-up in all the confusing feelings and emotions to form a coherent sentence. My breath grew short. I ached to touch him. All of him. Arms and hands were not enough.

He rubbed his cheek on mine and his stubble scratched my skin. My flesh sizzled. His breath was hot near my ear. “Sorry, if I was being a jerk. I just want to keep you safe.” With one finger, he tilted my chin upward, our gazes locking instantly. “Hey, what’s wrong? You’re tensing up.”

I scooted away from him, but he grasped my upper arms and pulled me back into his arms. “I-I’m just not sure about you staying over. I mean, what if I snore? Or I drool or something?”

“Shi,” he whispered, his deep voice sent a pleasant thrill down my body. “You said no funny business. So I’m not pushing those limits.” He pulled me upward and brought our lips closer. “I respect you too much.”

He kissed my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. I inhaled the lush scent that belonged only to Trent as he rolled over onto his side. I tipped my chin, closing the space between our lips. It was a deep, fervent kiss. Full of meaning and sappy emotions I could get lost in. The most beautiful fireworks display in the world couldn’t do this kiss justice. The kiss deepened, and my arms went up around his shoulders. A shudder of desire rippled through me and my muscles knotted. He groaned while kissing me, his hands caressing and touching my skin. I liked the way his body fitted with mine, hard against soft, and I pressed myself against him, forgetting about the rest of the world. When we finally broke off the kiss, we were both breathing hard.

Laying side-by-side, our lips gently brushed across one another’s again, tender, sweet, and passionate. My body heated everywhere as the kiss grew in intensity and he pressed his body into mine. Trent’s hands tangled in the hair at the base of my skull. I gripped his back, urging him closer, wanting him to engulf me in the private love-bubble that surrounded us.

“Shiloh…” He groaned and reluctantly pulled back, lifting his arms in the ‘stick-em-up’ position. “We gotta stop. Before we go too far.”

I sat up, sliding across the pink sheet. “You’re right. I got carried away…”

Trent propped himself against the headboard. “We both did,
mon chéri
.”

He slowly reached forward, probably thinking that any fast movement would spook me, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I froze as his fingers lingered at my jawline. It sent warm shivers right through me.

My heart was near bursting as I glanced up, the features of his face softening. That tender expression he reserved for quiet moments only with me.

“C’mere.” He slid back down the mattress, arms spread wide. “You need to sleep, Shiloh. You look exhausted.”

And I was. Tired of being on guard all the time. Tired of all the worrying. And tired of all the responsibility thrust upon me. I rested my cheek against his bare chest, my eyes drifting closed.

He relaxed one hand against my back and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Nighty-night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the werewolves bite.”

“Lycans, silly boy,” I said around a yawn.

In his safe embrace, my body relaxed. My muscles uncoiled and my heartbeat slowed. I cuddled deeper into the safety of his arms. And for those wonderful moments, my life wasn’t so sucky.

But I had no idea just how much more sucky it was about to get.