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Red and Her Wolf Page 9
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Page 9
His countenance and voice were modulated, polite. But a greedy gleam burned like flame in his dark brown eyes.
Ewan shook his head, pulling in a small amount of the perfumed tobacco. There was a taste of ripe cherries, slightly bitter and astringent on his tongue, but better than the stuff Jinni forced him to inhale.
The scrolls Kermani referred to were the ones he’d handed Ewan the moment Violet had been taken to the bath. His second set of directions from Miriam, and though curiosity burned him, he wanted to study the document at his leisure. “Nay,” he said around a puff of water laced smoke.
“How many stops have you?”
Something about the way the slight man asked gave Ewan pause. Rather than answer directly he shrugged and said, “several.”
“Ah.” Kermani nodded, rubbing his jaw, eyes glinting with something akin to fascination. “Indeed.”
Talk ceased after that as a troop of women covered in sheer red and purple gauzy linens entered the room, heralded by the sounds of bells attached at their hips and ankles. Their laughter was effervescent as they swished and swayed, moving with the casual grace of a jungle predator. A seduction meant to tease, but nothing more.
Ewan glanced at Violet and this time, she was looking at him. Cold, violent hate glittering in the depths of ice blue eyes.
***
Grabbing his forehead, Ewan leaned back against the cold wall of his room. Again there were nothing but pillows scattered everywhere. A thin, rough mat would serve as his bed. He looked at the weathered scroll beside his foot.
Kermani had insisted he’d not read the letter, but, something about the way he’d asked with that avaricious gleam in his eyes made Ewan wonder.
Where was she? Soon after the dancing ended, Violet had been spirited away, and save for that one moment when she’d glared at him with unconcealed hatred, she’d never acknowledged him.
“Bloody hell,” he growled rubbing at the ache spreading through his left temple.
Maybe he’d imagined it all, Kermani’s look and Violet’s distaste.
He snorted, she was safe and his mate. The rest would come with time, for now, he must focus on the task at hand, seeing her safely to Malvena’s castle.
Breaking the wax seal with his thumb, Ewan opened the scroll. It was blank. Flipping it over, he was shocked to notice it was blank also.
“What is this?”
The moment the words left his lips the scroll flew from his hands, hanging suspended before his face. Pearlescent light danced across its surface and then Miriam’s soft voice filled his room with a distant echo.
“Greetings, my wolf. I am happy to know ye’ve made it safely to the thief’s den. A word of caution before I proceed, trust no one. Tell nothing of your trek. We can all be bought for a price. Kermani is a good man, but caution is always best…”
Frowning, Ewan glanced around. There were no doors, but he was all alone, in a separate section of the underground home. Kermani had thought it indecent to allow him to sleep too close to his harem.
He licked his lips.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell ye more before, there was no time. I hope ye’ve destroyed the map I gave ye earlier, there are spies everywhere. Dani and I will travel a circuitous route, our hope is to arrive at the same time ye do with Violet. Ye and the girl will travel by dream stone, I’ve hidden them along the way. Press the stone and a portal will open to yer next location. Do not engage Malvena until we have arrived. Violet is strong, but she is young and untried. I did my best and raised her with all the love I could…”
The scurry of feet caught his attention; he glanced down to notice a mouse scuttling through a small hole in the wall opposite. Hyper aware and sensitive to his surroundings, he prayed Miriam’s message would be brief.
“It is time to tell ye of yer mate, of the darkness that keeps her soul captive…”
Like a fist had punched through his heart, he sat up straighter, desperate to learn more.
“She was conceived of dark magic, as I’m sure Dani told ye by now,” the voice turned distant and thoughtful, “perhaps it was wrong, to keep her naïve of her past. But it was the only way I knew to nurture the hate. Ye see, her magic cannot be worked through good. She is powerful, very powerful, but it is only through hate that her magic can work. So I let her hate ye. For that, I’m sorry…”
His jaw clenched so tight, his molars began to ache.
“But I would do it again, if I had to. She is the key to Malvena’s undoing. Only she can stop the Black. Violet’s power can take many forms, some benign and useful, but most dark and terrifying. I doubt she knows most of what she can do. But her truest power and darkest art, is that she is an eater of souls. It is within her to devour the very essence of the divine...”
Brows lowering, he glanced back at the curtained door, gripped by a powerful urge to seek her out and hold her. His fingers clenched.
“I’ve followed her for years out on her treks, many of which she didn’t know. I can say that she’s only just discovered herself; her knowledge of what she can do is still very much in its infancy. That is why I’ve set up a test at yer next location. She must engage and defeat Hansel and Gretel’s witch.”
Blood spilled on his tongue and he winced, only realizing he’d been chewing on it. Breathing heavy, clenching his hands, on the verge of violence he attempted to slow his pulse by taking deep breaths.
“I’m aware ye must not like that, but it is the only way. We haven’t much time to train her, ye canna help her defeat the witch. But once she has, ye must extract the soul from her body. Ye are her mate, and that is yer duty…”
“Duty,” he snarled. Why hadn’t the damn fairies remembered that in the first place? Surely there was another way to harness her power than by forcing her hatred of him to grow like a slow malignant cancer. But the voice did not stop speaking.
“Let instinct guide ye, ye’ll know what to do when the time comes.” He could almost picture the smile in her voice now. “You are her perfect mate, and more than able to bring her back from the blackness I was forced to allow to fester. That is why the time is now; she is still at the brink, able to be redeemed. If Jana did one thing, it was to show Violet true love in the beginning. The child of darkness was brought up in light.”
He spat, Jana had tried to kill Violet. She’d done nothing good, and he for one was glad he’d butchered her traitorous body.
“Though we both know now she kept Violet in a happy state to suppress her powers so that killing her would be simple, in the end the lesson was learned. Violet is capable of love. She remembers the emotions and yearns for it again. If anyone can drag her back from becoming a monster of legend, it is ye. Her powers have been channeled, now refocus that hate, and she can be won. If however…”
He sucked in a breath, gut clenching, knowing instinctively he would not like what she was about to say.
“I never arrive at Malvena’s, should I die along the way, ye must kill her.”
“How dare you!” he roared, despairing at the thought. Uncaring if anyone heard, he’d never do it.
“Ye may think me cruel, but in fact I only want what’s best for her. She must not engage Malvena without me, because if she does, she may not kill the Black witch and then she’ll be haunted forever, she’ll never stay with you or anyone else. If, however, she does kill Malvena, that level of toxic power will destroy what remains of her sanity and reason. She will be forever lost and beyond all hope of redemption. Either way, she loses.”
Ewan slammed his fist into the wall and the dirt foundation fractured; sending a shower of silt to cover his bed.
A heart shaped pendant manifested from within the scroll and floated to him.
“That is the pendant of truth; I’ve spelled it to reveal the truth of the events of that night. She will need to see it to know the truth. She blames ye for all that happened that night, I deliberately blocked Jana’s deception from her mind. Violet will hate me, as I’m sure ye now do. But even
so, I would ask ye to pray for our safe travel. I love my girl, and only want what’s best for her, and ye. May the goddess bless ye.”
The scroll suddenly caught in flame, the heat creeping off its green tinted hue burned his eyes. Within seconds, nothing remained of it save a fine black powder.
Ewan snatched up the pendant, heart racing, mouth dry, and wondering if any of that was true. But knowing deep in the depths of his cold, bleak soul that it was and he be damned if he’d let her die.
“I’ve only just found ye, lass. I’ll not let ye go, nay till I’m cold in the grave.” He curled his fingers around the dark purple stone and held it to his heart.
Sleep did not come for many hours.
***
A shadow stirred in his doorway. Ewan jumped to a crouching position, hearing the rapid breathing of a female. His female.
She smelled of jasmine, rich and earthy and his blood stirred, heating his veins and making him instantly alert.
“Red?” he asked as gently as he could, but couldn’t disguise the need trembling heavy in his brogue.
“It was you,” she said in a voice as dead as the ghoul’s.
He frowned. “Wha--”
“That night.”
She stepped inside the door, and though in human form, his eyes were sharp. He drank in the sight of her like a man parched. Still dressed in red, she was as a lovely wraith with her pale luminescent skin and large blue eyes.
“You’re the black wolf.” Her eyes were vacant, cold. “You killed her.”
He touched the jewel resting against his chest; he’d fallen asleep with it on. “Aye, I killed her, but it’s nay what ye think, Red.”
She didn’t even flinch. “I can’t even hurt you. I stood here in the door for an hour and you’re magic wouldn’t let me enter. Want to know why?” Such a sweet, soft voice. So at odds with its deadness.
Lifting the pendant over his head, he tried handing it to her. “This was given to me by Miriam, it’s the truth of that night. Come here, Red. Come.”
He beckoned her; an uneasy tension slithered up his spine, made the back of his neck tingle.
“For years I’ve thought of you. Obsessed about you, drawing your picture over and over. Always your eyes, they haunt me the most. And I knew when I met you, I’d seen you before. And I was right.”
He blinked. “Lass… please.”
“I hate you. I came here to kill you, to end your miserable life.”
Her words chilled his blood, froze the breath in his lungs. “I would never harm ye, lass. I vow it. I’ve searched for ye, loved ye then and now...”
She didn’t acknowledge his words, only pulled her hands from behind her back. Opening her hand, she showed him what she held. A thin silver hairpin, innocuous, and yet he knew it was more than a hairpin to her. It was long and sharp looking at its tip.
“Lass, what are ye--” He twitched, every muscle screaming at him to pounce on her and throw it away.
She looked at her palm. “What hurts you the most, Ewan?”
Her name on his lips, first time she’d ever called him by his birth name, he should have rejoiced. Standing, he inched toward her. Slowly, like one approaching a wild, scared animal. “I’ve the proof, lass. I can show ye what happened that night. Let me.”
Violet’s eyes blazed, the first time she’d shown any type of emotion. “Answer my question.”
He searched her face, every line, every lash seared into his brain. “You. Nothing could hurt me, but losing ye.”
She closed her eyes. “You took my ability for revenge, but you gave me another instead.”
Moving faster than he’d expected her to, she raked the pin across her wrist. He was on her, wresting the pin out of her fingers, but it was too late. She’d cut deep, blood welled from her pale skin like a dark bloom.
Ewan’s heart seized. He grabbed her by the shoulders, crashing down to the floor with her, his brain unable to comprehend what she’d done. Why she’d done it.
“Red,” he stuttered, pain caught in his throat, threatening to claw itself out, “nay, nay.”
“Hate… you… so… much,” she sobbed and her tears became his.
Grabbing her wrist, Ewan brought it to his mouth. Wolves could heal, they weren’t fast at it, or very good, but good enough. He licked the blood, savoring the sweetness of her, even as his tears mingled on his tongue. Rocking hard, covered in blood, he licked and licked, passing whatever healing he could to her, praying to whatever god might hear him.
“I love ye, lass. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”
Chapter 8
Dreaming, Violet roamed somewhere between awake and asleep, haunted by images she couldn’t understand.
Her grandmother Jana, standing inside the doorway, alive and aged. Her wrinkled hand beckoning to Violet with hurried gestures.
“My, what big eyes you have, grandmother.” A ghost of a voice whispered.
Jana’s grin widened, the sharp rows of fangs glinting with a coat of something clear, yet thick.
“My, what big teeth you have, grandmother.” The same voice, soft and unsure.
Jana’s eyes were black, full and alien like. So different than the kindly green they’d once been.
“The better to kill you with, my dear…” A sharp, brittle laugh punctuated the small hut and then two wolves jumped out. One red, one black.
The red stalked her, slowly, methodically. Licking its muzzle as its eyes blazed with hunger.
Violet stood, a specter in this vision, watching her past self huddle and cower in the corner; screaming with a bottomless pit of terror that’d blinded her to the truth.
The black wolf wasn’t moving. Its belly heaved as its slitted pupils dilated, then its hackles rose and it jumped Jana, tearing her limb from limb. The red wolf had turned, growling and moaning, as if seeking to understand what’d possessed the black wolf.
Over and over the vision played and she was helpless to its thrall. Wetness coated her face and soft moans rumbled through her chest, for hours she lay, replaying the past, seeing what couldn’t possibly be.
He hadn’t saved her. Ewan had killed her grandmother. But then the visions swept in like a tidal wave and each time she watched it, she knew it was true.
The mystery of that night was finally solved. The last piece of the puzzle she couldn’t remember, her soul accepted and believed, her mind screamed. Everyone had lied to her. Her aunt, Jana, everyone.
But not him.
No!
She trembled, something strong and firm gripped her hard. It was comforting, warm, and she was ashamed and confused.
“Wake up, Red,” the thick brogue whispered in her ear, a caress so soft and sweet. “Open those big blue eyes, look at me. Ye can hate me all ye want, just live, Red. Please.”
The last word was choked out and strained, scratchy and full of something deep and profound, but she couldn’t make sense of it.
Finally the dreams relented, and like a fog being lifted, she opened her eyes. Immediately she noticed a heavy sensation against her breast. Glancing down, she saw a purple pendant pulsing against her bare flesh, his hand pressed tight to it.
His mouth was covered in dried blood; looking like he’d feasted. She hissed, glancing at her wrist, suddenly recalling the demonic anger that’d taken her last night. The pure hatred that’d burned brighter than the sun at its zenith, her need to kill him, end her agony, only to discover there was no way around the enchantment he’d woven with his bite.
She swallowed and didn’t push away when he nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs, muttering nonsense she couldn’t understand.
“Let me go,” she finally croaked, voice raw and scratchy, as if she’d actually been screaming throughout the night.
He set her aside gently, and crawled back on his knees, moving like an animal would. But instead of disgust, she found beauty in the motion. A perfect symmetry and balance to it that left her awed.
She was st
ill angry, but wasn’t sure anymore if she should be. Not at him. Violet covered her breasts, hugging her arms to her body.
“What happened?” She rubbed her smooth wrist, tracing the length of the faint pink line.
He scrubbed his face. “Our saliva can heal, I… goddess, lass. What? What can I do?! How can I prove to ye I’m nay the devil ye take me for?” He was yelling, chest heaving, his golden eyes wild. Looking like the wolf she’d seen in the dreams.
Violet tucked her knees to her chest. “What did you do to me?” She pointed to the necklace in his hand.
Throwing the necklace against the wall, the stone cracked. He was angry, his body vibrated with it. He wouldn’t even look at her as he began to pace, rubbing his jaw so hard she was afraid he’d scrub the skin off.