Allister, J. Rose - Discarded Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (7 page)

“We ain’t the only two werewolves in these woods, either,” Russell added. “Stay here so we can protect you.”

She laughed as she spun around. “Protect me? I just had to use a curse—something I’ve never dreamed of risking—to protect
you
from a gadje woman. Further defiling myself in the process, I might add. Considering you’re in a cage and unarmed, how would you protect me if something else did come along?”

He glowered at her, but his lips pressed together in a tight, silent line.

“Thought so.” With that, she walked away.

Once she was safely away from their penetrating, golden stares, she wrapped the blanket around herself and gave in to the violent shivers that made it difficult to grasp the flannel edges. The chill in the air was developing a fiercer bite, but the main reason she was shaking was the aftermath of having used such a dark, powerful spell. Such magic could bear repercussions, but what else could she do? Stand by and watch two naked, unarmed men get gunned down in a cage? It was largely by her own doing that they were in there—one of them, at least.

Why was the woman so intent on Russell’s destruction? Was it true that he hadn’t deserved it?

A sound pierced the night, a keening howl that stood her hair on end. Other wolves roamed these woods, likely with other dangers awaiting her. Not the least of which was the fact that she was rapidly becoming a danger to herself.

Her feet moved of their own accord until she was back in front of the cage. The men had shifted again into wolf form and were pacing restlessly. They paused at her approach, their majestic stares landing on her briefly.

“Don’t either of you say a word,” she said to the wolves. “Or a bark, rather. And don’t get any ideas. I just figured maybe your scent will scare off some other animals, is all.”

She lay down on the hard dirt, suddenly exhausted. The curse had taken an immediate toll on her energy reserves. Despite her exhaustion, even the normally welcome sounds of crickets and night breezes failed to lull her. The men respected her wish and left her alone with her thoughts, which carried her through several hours until she gave into a deep, though by no means peaceful, sleep.

Chapter Three

Dinner was left for Talaitha along the perimeter of the clearing just as breakfast and lunch had been, with one important difference. Dinner was accompanied by a message. She had been summoned at her father’s behest.

Frowning, Talaitha took the plate of goulash and slid it through the gap in the cage bars designed to aid handlers in feeding.

“Why aren’t you goin’ to eat that?” Russell asked as she quickly deposited the plate.

She backed away as though one of them might make a grab for her, which she wasn’t entirely certain wouldn’t happen, and then returned to the spot to refold the blanket she’d sat on throughout parts of the day. “It’s ridiculous that they only fed you once today, like the other…” she trailed off and shot him a look.

“You can say it,” Drew said. He sat with his back against the cage and one leg drawn up, much the way Russell had done the night before. He was lounging casually, as though being locked up was the most natural thing in the world. “They’re feedin’ us like the other animals.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He cocked his head. “That’s exactly how you mean it. We are animals, after all. You said so yourself.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be tossed a few scraps of food once a day. You need to eat.”

“So do you.”

“I’m not a grown man. I’m not even particularly tall. I can get by on far less.”

The truth was, she didn’t have much of an appetite at present, and what little was left had been snuffed out by the note. Whatever her father’s reason for wanting to see her, it wasn’t likely to express paternal concern for her well-being. Still, it would be best to go and get it over with.

“I was thinkin’ about what you said you did last night,” Russell said. “To the huntress. She really can’t hurt a werewolf?”

She eyed him, but didn’t answer.

“Not unless she figures out she’s cursed and finds a way to break it,” Drew said, leaning forward to take a whiff of her unwanted meal.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Talaitha said. “Gadjes don’t understand our ways, and they don’t believe in magic.” She eyed Drew pointedly. “Most gadjes, anyway.”

Russell grunted. “Why keep her from harmin’ weres if you hate them?”

A flash of irritation shot through her. “It wasn’t like I had it planned out. I was in a hurry, and that’s what I came up with.”

“Why help Drew and me at all, then?”

“I’ll answer that if you tell me why she is hunting down your pack.”

“I honestly don’t know. Blaise did a lot of things to a lot of people. I was grateful when someone finally sent him to hell, until the new alpha banished the rest of us in revenge.” Drew offered him the bowl of stew, but Russell shook his head. “What about you? What’s your answer?”

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, either. I just kind of reacted. Maybe I’m going crazy.”

“Whatever your reasons,” Drew said, “I just want to say thanks.”

“You ain’t crazy,” Russell said. “You did it because you know you’re mine.”

That brought her to her feet. “You’re wrong.”

She shook the dust off the blanket she’d been sitting on and then folded it with obsessive care before marching off toward the camp proper.

“Didn’t mean to scare you off,” Russell called after her.

She paused. “Hardly. I’ll be back,” she added.

Her father was waiting for her outside the tent, wearing his usual brown pants and vest. Zakono struck an even more charismatic figure against the backdrop of the fading light of early evening.

“Besh,”
he said, gesturing to a nearby stump.

She obeyed and took a seat. “How is Vanje?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“He was not bitten.” Her father crouched in front of a small fire within a circle of stones. “The claw marks will heal much faster than he will forget, however. Although apparently, the same cannot be said for you.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

His eyes narrowed, yet watched her carefully. “I am told you are spending your time of separation near the caged dogs.”

She swallowed and plucked at her linen skirt. “It just seemed like the safest place out here.”

“Safest?
Chavi
, you are sitting in the lion’s den.”

“I’m not a child anymore, Papa. But I
am
a woman alone, separated from her clan. The women’s tent houses Meriya and her newborn, and you and Vanje have this one. The only place for me to spend the cleansing time is out in the open—in a place where unnatural creatures roam freely under a full moon.”

“As do humans with guns,” he said, stoking the flames with a large stick. “I had word that you were involved in the gunfire last night.”

“I used magic to repel the huntress, and she left peacefully.” More or less.

One brow rose. “And yet you remain in harm’s way by continuing to lie with dogs.”

His words curdled in her empty stomach. “I’m not lying with them. I just thought the clearing where they are caged will help ward off other animals out in the woods.”

“And yet, every moment that you spend speaking to them and giving them your food, you are defiling yourself with their darkness.”

Her mouth fell open. How did he know she’d been sharing her food?

He smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. Even were there not whispers among the people, I know you. You not only have your mother’s eyes, but her spirit of kindness as well.”

Talaitha blinked in shock. Romani people rarely spoke of their dead. It was considered bad luck.

“Make no mistake,” he went on, “I do not count that as a virtue. Not for this. It comes as no shock that you would feel similar sympathy for those in peril. But that you would act on that sympathy toward shifter kind does. You should learn from her mistakes, not bring about your own lesson.”

A familiar lump in her stomach rose to her throat at the thought of that terrible day five years ago. “I haven’t forgotten, Papa.”

His jaw tightened, though a suspicious gloss shone in his eyes. “See that you don’t. Kindness to a werewolf will be met with violence. Mark my words, daughter. Stay clear of those animals, or you will suffer for it.”

Her pulse hammered as she nodded. “I’ll be careful.” She rose and smoothed her skirt. “For now, the werewolves are caged and pose no threat, and I don’t know where else to go that would be safer.”

“You cannot be cleansed for return to the clan as long as you remain near the ruvs. I have arranged another tent for you. It is raised at the rear of the housing compound.”

As far away from Russell and Drew as possible, a fact that twisted in her stomach. She should be glad to avoid them and the constant exposure to their naked perfection, not to mention their obvious attraction to her and one another. Yet a hollow feeling thudded in her stomach. At least the wolves had offered some break in the solitude of her isolation.

She nodded. “Thank you. I’ll just go retrieve my bedding.”

“You cannot go back there,” her father said in a booming voice, rising from his crouch to set his hands on his hips. “Everything you need is already in the tent. Your three-day cleansing period starts now, as you did not have the wit to remove yourself from marime filth sooner.”

“They need to be fed more than once a day,” she said, wincing inwardly at the sharp look in his eyes. “The creatures will make poor sport for our show if they are worn down from hunger.”

He studied her for another moment. “Get to the tent and don’t trouble yourself about the rikonos. You have no cause to go near them again.”

“And during the shows? Who will take Vanje’s place with the animals?”

“More things you needn’t trouble yourself about. Your only concern with the show is to perform your regular setup duties and work in the palmistry tent. The rest will attend itself.” He talked over her when she tried to interject. “You are not to go near the special attraction tent. Stay away from there.”

The tone in his voice, as well as his return to a crouch before the crackling, acrid fire, made his dismissal clear. “Yes, Papa.”

She turned and headed in the direction of her new temporary shelter, stopping when he called after her. “You know that everything I do is in your best interest, Tal.”

Refusing to face him, she nodded quietly and walked away, biting back the question of whether he counted putting a knife to her throat as having been in her best interest. She fingered the small scab that remained, knowing that the eventual scar would be left inside, rather than out. It would be invisible to all but the one who now had to question her own father’s love. The hollow feeling thudded harder as she swallowed back the nagging fear that the only love she would ever truly know lay buried with her mother. That sad thought clung to her skirts all the way to the new tent.

Chapter Four

A crisp, early evening and the din of a crowd greeted Talaitha as she stepped out from the palmistry tent, stretching muscles that seemed permanently cramped from her confinement in one tent or another for the past few days. Her four-hour block of reading palms had passed quickly enough thanks to a fairly steady stream of customers, but she was grateful when Nuri had come to relieve her. Now, the rest of the evening was her own to wander the show, join clan members around the homestead campfire, or return to the trailer—a much-anticipated luxury now that her time of separation was over.