He tore the city apart like a rabid dog after a bone. There was still no sign of where she could be, Beatrice. Mikhail was back where he started, in Vanessa’s room, sitting on the floor. Usually when someone was taken by force, there was at least a witness. And it wasn’t late enough at night for no one to see her. It was close to twenty four hours. The corner of white folded paper was trapped under the dressing table, like someone had put it there, like someone did not want it to be lost in ruckus. He carefully opened it. ‘You’ll look everywhere, you’ll find nowhere.’ If this was a trick or a coded message, he’d kill her himself. Worse even, if it were a prank. But the handwriting was not quite the same. Beatrice drew her ‘y’ with an elongatetd curve and she never dotted an ‘i’, there was a dash in place of it. She hadn’t written it. It could be Ian. Only one way to find out. Noah had made its way back, asked someone in missing person’s department to do them a favor. He pocketed the
The chair dug in her shoulder blades, its high end cushion worn off tattering to the sides. Vanessa hardly had a second to draw in another breath before she was slammed on it. Her already tied legs would shift her body forward or backward, not sideways, and make her lose her equilibrium. She focused on the physical consequences because the mental one was a rabbit hole. Mikhail had picked her up like a gurney, tied her legs in the process, carried her oin his shoudlers to a room thatwas looking a lot like basement. She curedherself in all languages she knew. She had, foolishly, admitted the writing on the note was hers. She had neevr written it though. If she had, she didn’t remember. But how do you convince someone who was already on edge of your innocence when everyone in the room had better priorities? Like finfing Ian. Beatrice. Her priority aligned with theirs. Thats why she had pleaded and put ehr case forward in the most polite, panic-less way she knew how. It had gotten her he
“Yeah. And I buy that.” Mikhail was standing a good distance away from her. Noah shot him another glare, daring him to come any closer. “Give me one good reason I’d lie.” She spat back at him. If Noah believed Mikhail in this, they were never coming back from it. Some things are irredeemable. He was hurting her in ways she hadn’t thought possible. “Vanessa. Please. Mikhail, get out.” When he didn’t budge, his menacing form blovking what little light sneaked from upstairs, Noah growled, snarkling his teeth. He’d really hurt Mikhail, or so it seemed to her. Or maybe this was a diabolical posturing for her benefit. A textbook good cop, bad cop strategy. She sucked in a sharp breath.She ws starting to sound like her mother but her defences were overriding any compassion she had left for the man she presumably loved. What a joke it was.“You must remember something. I am begging you to recall any detail, absolutely anything that could help us right now.” He was whispering. The bottomof
“You see. Before you arrived, all the ploys were political. I saw them coming miles away. Of course, it helps that my father has connections. Turns out, your father and mine have worked together. Occasionally. As much as a good posturing leader and a conniving opportunist can. I don’t hold either at a pedestal. What troubles me is, shortly after your presence. Things happened. I can’t explain them. No one has attacked us inside our territory before. Desmond’s known for his heavy hand, especially to people who betray him. Your father’s doing well. Breathing, walking like he did not just whisper all Desmonds’ secrets to us.. Most important. I have never made enemies, and I won’t, the type who’d wake up one day and think of harming someone I love to get back at me. Can you see where I am going with this?” Every syllable hurt him. He didn’t want to have to choose. But the smock thickened until everyone on this side of the battle was blinded with their need to protect what was theirs. Van
“The vicar sent the Cubans you asked for.” Jolie stood beside him, looking down as he was but seeing different things. Noticing often latent style of people. Jolie was on his private security detail twelve hours a day. She’d notice if someone wasn’t acting Morrocan or regular enough, she’d notice if the shopkeeper selling sweets ten steps away was wiping his sweat frequently than normal. “Puerto Rican, Jolie. Not Cuban. Two different countries. Don’t let them hear you say it. But you’re right, the Vicar is indeed Cuban.” Slight admonishment she accepted with even slighter head bow. Jolie was never interested in countries, capitals or cities. It all looked the same to her, a jungle she had the aerial view of it, and thus was at more advantage being a predator. Nothing seemed to matter in fact. Her blonde-yellow ponytail tightly encased in a black rubber band. Still, the heat made the hair fuzzy so they assorted in childish curls at the nape of her neck. There were three things about
Sixty hours. Two and a half day. Summer dissipitating quicker than anticipated. Barely blossomed trees were shedding leaves, a cluster of them marked the entry gate at Noah Abel’s home. Which, if things stayed the way they were, would soon be a place crawling with trackers of all kind, changeling and wolves. Some hired rogues who’d kill for a quick buck. And the way tings were going, Vanessa was out of basement. Still under a watchful eye. She truly believed the half reason was becasue Noah was concerned, but the other half sininster enough to wash away any delusions she might have about him. There wasn’t much to think anyway. Evan was the only person who checked in on her, otherwise she was invisible. Who would have thought even her misfortunes would fail at making her famous, or infamous? The occasional cheek-chewof bitterness when a pang of heartache intruded, as is thier nature which she shoved aside and focused on day-to-day activities to keep her going. Aside from the cluster o
Noah tentatively touched her at the exact same spot. His fingers delicately tested the pressure to find the right spot where she’d been hurt. Noah on the other hand couldn’t decipher where and when to ravage this rage of his. Hell, even the light treated this girl differently. It moved around her, about her, to make more space. She made him feel like he was floating; and in return, all his presence bought was more hurt. This one struck like an incandescent vacuum punching a hole right in his center. A vortex to double him in. “Someone hurt you. Where?” His thumb brushed her knuckles ever so softly. There had to be a pit where desperation went to rot and never come back. This wasn’t one of them. He was desperate to spill some blood, break some bone, and she was desperate for some quiet and peace. Away from all this. Away from him. “Its just this shoulder. They shoved me and I fell.” Half truth. A white-washed lie. Noah’s eyes narrowed. She was lying and he knew it. “Who were they?”
It was hard to be glum in a place like this. Languages crowded the air like exotic birds: French, Hebrew, Arabic, Farsi, phrases in tribal native among food cart holders and pestering shopkeepers. The alleys were draped in silk, fresh carpets overflowing the narrow road between the shops. Men in safari dresses wearing tarboosh caps lingered in the doorway. The sun about to set, mother hurried their children home. The market was open for tourists in the evening and laughter trilled from all sides. It was indeed hard to be glum, thought Calvin. He visited the bustle of market, finding himself insignificant in the crowd. And like a palindrome he was reminded of his importance. His hands held tight to the cup of warm tea in his hand. The streets of Morroco were fairytales painted, without so much as lifting the brush, vivid and enchanting, straight from a child’s mind. There were snake charmers and dancers, barefoot carni fokls, hapless tourists tinkering with everything they found worth
'Love does find a way afterall. No matter what obstacles are laid before us, if our love is pure, it will win at the end, no matter what.' Vanessa thought as a smile lit her face up. She was sitting comfortably on a couch, in a large sweatshirt that belonged to Noah, now her husband.She thought back to their wedding ceremony, it was a wonderful affair filled with laughter, love and hope. All their friends had come, looking clean in their dresses and suits. Noah had left last night, in wolf form, hollering and calling loudly to the moon. A makeshift bachelor party- a wild run in the forest and then some chilled beer at a cliff with a nice view. That left Vanessa to sit back at home, thumbing through her favorite book and smiling now and then. It was midnight when she decided to call it a night and go to bed- her last night as a single lady. Just then, she caught sight of a rustling figure outside the window. It was Noah, his hair windswept and his cheeks red from being drunk. He was
She watched his face, less shy about its location on the map of her body. He was smiling to himself, mischievous, his eyes on his work. Small pool of sweat gathered at her lower back, at the dimples he liked so much. He was finger painting.She gasped, trying to twist away as he wrote more. But he didn't have to. "Noah...." Was she going to weep? She didn't want to weep. "Is that a yes or a no?" The wolf was relaxed this time around. Like it had gotten what it wanted for the time being, she knew the decision was equally human. "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you." "If you can stop snotting, maybe then..." She hit his shoulder. When he kissed her, on the psychic plane, his wolf appeared. Battered, strong, feral. And with him- a bond. It was a great shining thing, like a falling moon. An orb born of love tumbling in the creeks, in the meadows. She had only to catch it. And she did. With it came a smaller bond-Ian. Unafraid, she linked herself to it. The distance between them felt like sph
The last thing she remembered was his claws digging in her ass, and their pleasure sated bodies a tangle of limbs. Where was he now? Not next to her. But he had slept, the bed held his impressions. Coming to herself, she blushed. His smell was so strong on her, hers had nearly vanished. She had an inkling that these were the signs of mating bond completing itself. Even he would smell more like Vanessa than himself. The animal was playing for keeps, and it wanted to be kept as an equal. She found him sitting on the porch stairs. She grabbed his shirt, shivered at how sensitized her skin felt, trying desperately to keep herself from looking at the spot of blood on lavender sheets. Thankfully, they weren't white. His marks, teeth, hand, claws pulsed in her body. Her body held his secrets more tenderly than it did anything else. He sensed her approach, straightening his legs, making space for her between them. She went, hiding behind her hair. His content was contagious. Bare chested
The satisfaction coursing through him was so arrogant, so unfaltering in its ownership, her wolf quivered a little in fear. If he consumed her, would she live to see another day? Intrigued, he rubbed his jaw against the inside of her legs, her scent decadent, strong. He fumbled with his jeans before pulling them down. His wolf wanted to take. To turn her around on hands and knees, mount her, and when she'd arch her neck in pleasure, take a bite. It'll hurt but he'd share the pain. "Noah?" She was still here. Legs spread, waiting for him. He smiled. His mind was playing tricks on him, he won't take her like an animal. That'll have to wait. He suddenly dipped his head and she shoved a discarded pillow to her face. Which was a good thing. Because the scream that tore out of her was no human. Her eyes shifted, her wolf begging to have her equal measure of the sensations. His eyes still on her face, he licked her between her thighs. The tender bud begged for his attention, which in h
When he threw up his shields, she was back in front of him. Tonight, there was no leash. She wanted to play, he'll abide. The wolf bared its teeth.... She shot out with a grin. Adrenaline shot through her, she was nowhere near as fast as him. But she could read his thought clear as a bright sunny day. Apart from the high of the chase, she was humbled by the trust. He lowered his shields to nil and let her in. She had yet to do that.He was getting closer, the wolf didn't try to hide the heavy breathing, his massive lungs resounding in warning because he wanted her to know when he was near. Claws out, canines protruding, Noah was no longer human. Not a single part of him. Heart raising hard and fast, she sharpened her run into the direction of lower range, a steep one her much smaller body could maintain running at. Noah's much larger frame would tumble at this speed, so he pulled out an old trick. He laid down and rolled like a barrel. Laughter bubbled inside of her. 'Nice trick.'
"I am sorry I made you feel unwelcome. Consider this an apology." He kissed her knuckles, a small key pressed to her palm, the soft crinkle of paper-a note. She couldn't read his thoughts anymore. But he walked away with a purpose. Dusk clambered in the Nebraska, the summer of dragging afternoons fast learning to evade the gossamery warmth for autumn seeping in sycamore trees, yellow golden leaves ready to replace the greens. Beyond the moonbeam dancing stream, stood two peaks, protecting the land from the unknowns, so many unknowns. The peaks, they are not exultant, and they no longer believe themselves to be the instrument of some great intention. They are, but a shadow of those living beings looking up at them, creatures grasping at life with stained hands. Waiting. Hoping. Vanessa hid her gasp, swallowing the thick ball of emotion in her throat. A heavy weight ruffled the decidous low hanging branches in the trees but she didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Her soul
Home.The black villa doors opened to reveal the place she had thought would save her from the mountain of debt she had buried herself under. The debt was the answer she had been waiting for, and apparently so was Silas. Greggory Flynn, she had kept his ashes in a thurible, had never given her complete answers. They arrived, to find Mikhail, Beatrice and Rourke waiting for them in the foyer. Vanessa was searching for Mrs.Kemp and her cupcake smelling apron. Beatrice looked healthier but the awkward distance between her and Mikhail didn't go unnoticed by anyone. "This here, little heathen, has more body count than me, brother. What do you say to that?" Evan dragged Vanessa from under Noah's arm to his side, strangling her in a side hug. Vanessa was beyond grateful. She didn't know how to break ice with Mikhail. The last time he had her tied to a chair in the basement, he had his reasons but that didn't make it okay. She didn't know where to go with him from here. She loved Noah but
Vanessa shuffled inside her closet, her claustrophobia all but gone. She was done packing but not ready to head back home. Things felt so incomplete. In past two days, she had tried to access Calvin's mind but had failed. When all of them, Selene, Falkner, Silas, Noah, Evan and Jodie convene for finalizing border control policies she had to tell them. She wanted everyone to know there were others like her, the Communion will want a hard proof. "Come in." She knew it was Evan. "Hii. I am resigning. Consider this official." He had been in a jolly good mood, he always was when he worked on secret plans but this time, Vanessa knew it was about Jodie. His mind was a back to back movie night on weekends, filled with lewd imagery of things he'd like to do to her.The powers did have it's shortcomings. "Resigning?" His shields were up. "Yes." Evan folded his legs, sat on the newly purchased futon, which Noah had gifted Vanessa because she liked to sleep on the floor. Bed after thirty six
He begrudgingly admitted nudity was her last preserve right now. She shifted but did a very poor job of hiding herself, the swell of her ass, small and pert with tan lines- he groaned- held his attention. Until he moved it to her shoulder. Stripes, more stripes of red, white, yellow, blue. What the fuck was it? How did she get bruises this bad? Before he could ask, she begged for a clothing. Anything he might have. He stripped off his shirt and threw it to her. She scrambled into it like she was on fire. No more inadvertent strip show, his cat saddened by the perspectiveShe knew what he was going to ask. It was always there, in the manner people stood, slightly skewed, uncomfortable of her reaction even before she had reacted. Scars. He had seen them. And she knew he won't let it go. "You aren't going anywhere until you answer me." Lonely, she wanted to be with her own kind after being denied association for so long. Walter Desmond's death made her breath for the first time, free