Girl from Jussara (5 page)

But he didn’t. He leaned in and licked up the side of her face instead. Then he licked the other side.

Then he was gone.

It was a full five minutes after the front door had closed behind Kai that Lupe found the wherewithal to move again.

That night, she dreamt of Kai licking her in other places. She chalked it up to the erotic episode she’d had earlier with Alcaeus, to being exhausted and consuming too much champagne, and to the fact that no one had ever licked up the tracks of her tears before, and she decided to leave it at that.

The following morning Kai came by the house to check on her and Jussara and to inform Lupe that Alcaeus had had to depart rather suddenly during the night for Europe. “Pack business” is what Kai labeled the unexpected, timely trip.

Lupe gave him a raised eyebrow over her coffee mug that said he was full of shit. When that wasn’t enough to get a reaction out of him, she added, “You’re a devoted chastity belt.”

He brought his coffee mug to his lips, not bothering to deny that it was he who had convinced Alcaeus to go away for a while and give her space.

Lupe knew Kai didn’t approve of Alcaeus pursuing her, and in truth, she was grateful for his cock-blocking efforts. While she knew she and Jussara really couldn’t stay with Alcaeus for too much longer, for the time being he was still their best source of protection. It would be foolish and irresponsible of her to risk her daughter’s best chance at survival by blowing her friendship—and employment—with Alcaeus. And there was no quicker way to blow a friendship-slash-employment with a man than to … well … blow him.

“Thank you. I won’t encourage him again,” she spoke to her coffee.

“Breathing encourages him.”

She cracked a grin and ultimately broke into laughter at Kai’s very accurate, stoically delivered assessment of his best friend.

He smiled and gave her a wink that caused her stomach to flutter, it was such an uncharacteristic gesture from him.

“I care about Al,” she felt the need to confess. “Very … very much.”

“I know.”

“It’s just—”

“You’ll never love him,” Kai concluded. “Not the way he loves you.”

Her emerald eyes misted in betrayal at the brief agony exposed in Kai’s soft brown ones.

“Not because you won’t want to. Because your soul isn’t free to.” He arose from the dining table faster than she could blink. “I’ll take Jussara for a walk. You can watch your telenovela.”

And cry
. He didn’t have to say it.

He knew.
Of course Kai knew.
About her secret vehicle for crying as well as the horror of her predicament. It was another reason Lupe felt such a kinship with Kai.

The widowed wolf baby doctor was considered a great anomaly amongst his kind for the fact that he’d survived the loss of his “true mate”—something that no other werewolf or werelock since the dawn of the species had ever managed.

Kai’s deceased mate, Maribel, was described by nearly all as having been sheer perfection in life, a born prodigy and a veritable saint among werelocks. Lupe knew many of the other werelocks resented Kai for outliving Maribel—branding him a freak of nature for his unprecedented survival over the last fifty years since Maribel’s death.

Lupe had caught them glaring at him with accusing eyes—as if it were his fault! As if he enjoyed living with half of a heart and a soul forever adrift, lacking the connection that had once sustained his very purpose—floating aimlessly in a world and inside a body in which he no longer desired to belong, but couldn’t depart. Destined to be tormented for the remainder of his days as he was forced to go through the motions of being alive.
Of breathing in and out every day.

Lupe knew what that was like. She knew very well.

But Lupe had Jussara. And she would live as long as she had to in order to look after her baby girl, to ensure her safety in this strange, vicious world of magical half-beasts.

And unlike Kai, Lupe didn’t love her deceased,
alleged
mate. She had no desire to be rejoined with Nahuel in any afterlife. In fact, the notion that it might happen terrified her enough to want to go on living as long as possible.

CHAPTER FIVE

A few weeks later, while Alcaeus was still away on “pack business” in Europe, Lupe left the shelter of Alcaeus’ home several evenings in a row with Kai in order to visit Hector’s bedside. Hector, her first and closest human friend at the Reinoso stronghold, was dying. His son, Mateus, had recently returned from America to say his final farewells.

Kai had thoughtfully recruited the human assistant chef’s oldest daughter, Ines, to babysit Jussara, knowing Lupe would want to spend time with Hector in his final hours. But on the third night, Kai had been called away from Hector’s side for another medical emergency. And as the hour grew late awaiting Kai’s return, Lupe was anxious to get home to Jussara. Thinking it would be bad form for Mateus to leave his father’s side in his very tenuous condition, she declined Mateus’ offer to walk her back to Alcaeus’ house, deciding she would be perfectly safe with her machete in hand.

Despite Kai and Alcaeus’ assurances that she didn’t need the weapon, Lupe always carried it with her whenever she left the house. The gardens surrounding the main house were especially tricky at night. One wrong turn through the tall hedges could land a passerby in the middle of a heated gang-bang.
Literally.

Werewolves were excessively carnal creatures, and Lupe was continually shocked by their very brazen public displays, not to mention their incredible sexual appetite and stamina, which, quite frankly, bordered on absurd. And when the scent of one or more she-wolves in heat permeated the air … well, the males had a tendency to lose their minds entirely, and epic orgies that would’ve made Dionysus blush very often ensued.

As such, a lone, unmated female could never be too careful when traversing the gardens unchaperoned after nightfall. And as Lupe’s misfortune would have it, on this particular night that she attempted such a feat, the queen bitch herself—Alcaeus’ only sister, Alessandra Reinoso—went into heat.

Alessandra’s heat cycles were commonly known to throw the whole pack into a sexual frenzy, wreaking sheer havoc on the male population. Alessandra, or Lessa, as Alcaeus and Kai called her, was notoriously persnickety and impossible to please in most things, but she was particularly choosy and challenging to appease in the sack.

Lessa was beautiful beyond compare. And boy, did she know it! Every unmated male werewolf vied for her favor, especially during her heat cycle, but very few ever made the grade, and those who did usually failed to satisfy, which left the majority of the pack more often than not in a state of sexual frustration throughout Lessa’s cycle.

Lupe hadn’t gotten very far from the human quarters when two very naked, very sexually aroused wolves in human form, shooting pure lust from their yellow eyes, cornered her. It all happened so fast, and she reacted so quickly, that she didn’t even register what she’d done until it was too late and she was staring at a bloody severed head and big, lifeless male body on the ground.

Since the birthday incident, Kai had attempted several times to educate her about the effects of trauma on a person’s psyche, but she hadn’t wanted to listen.

“You bitch!” the second—and still living—naked wolfman roared at her, incredulous. “You’ve killed him!”

Shit.
Her victim was apparently of the werewolf variety of supernatural. Alcaeus and Kai had tried to explain the genetic distinctions between werelocks and werewolves numerous times to her, driving home the fact that whereas werelocks could heal from virtually any wound inflicted, unless major organs were damaged or removed entirely for too great a length of time, common werewolves were not so fortunate. While common werewolves possessed rapid healing and even regenerative capabilities and lived infinitely longer lives than humans, they were still quite fallible compared to a werelock. They could not, for example, heal or regenerate quickly enough to survive say …
a beheading.

Damnit, they all looked the same to her! How was she supposed to know the difference?

“You’re going to pay for this,” the enraged wolfman announced, his voice gruff as sandpaper as he advanced on her, his formerly lust-filled eyes now promising something far more sinister.

“
Stop.
” The order rang out from behind her would-be assailant, delivered by a deep male voice charged with authority. Her killer halted mid-step. “Back away from her.”

Her initial relief turned to shock and horror as the naked wolfman backed away and Lupe recognized that it was Alex, Alcaeus’ youngest brother and the Alpha of the Reinoso pack, who had just saved her.

She’d glimpsed Alex in passing a few times before in the gardens as Kai or Alcaeus had escorted her home late at night. But on those occasions it’d been mostly his bare ass she’d viewed as he railed some squealing bitch or another into oblivion. Tonight he was fully dressed—overdressed for what she understood to be his normal nighttime garden activities.

“What’s going on here?”

“That human
help
just killed one of our own for no reason at all,” the asshole wolf ratted her out. “I demand she face pack justice.”

Alex the Alpha scowled. “Demand?”

“Yes. I invoke the law of Antonio.”

“Law?” Alex’s cold eyes scanned the wolfman with unabashed disgust. “You forget yourself, soldier. I am the law.” The Alpha made a lazy gesture that was almost, but not quite, a shrug, and the soldier fell to the ground. Lifeless.

Death by Alpha half-shrug? Holy shit!

When he turned the full weight of his attention on her, Lupe determined it was time to panic. He looked her over, and she him. He was huge—as tall and as large as Alcaeus. But darker. His coal eyes were cruel.

She’d heard stories, whispers amongst the human help about the feats of untold magic for which the Alpha was capable. She’d heard him described by his own kind as “brutal” and “sadistic.” And now, as he stood before her, everything about him screamed that he was definitely a dangerous predator beyond compare.

“You’re Al’s little human woman, aren’t you?”

He’d asked a question. She knew she should say something. But he’d phrased it more like a statement of fact. Conflicted, she stayed silent. Staring. Shaking. Scared out of her wits as she wondered if he was going to kill her next.

His head canted to the side, bored eyes skating over the bloody machete clutched in her trembling hands and the dead werewolf at her feet before returning to study her face. Then he yawned. Actually yawned! As if the sight of her terror and his own beheaded pack member were just that dull to him.

“That little brat they call Jussara I’ve seen running around with Al is your little one?”

His words surprised her, and she straightened defensively but did not reply. Again, she wasn’t sure he’d actually posed a question. And she was still struggling to compose herself. It was a shock to her that he’d even known who she was, much less known of her daughter.

“Haven’t made many friends here, have you?” he assessed. Another statement-question.

“You know, there’s a book about making friends by a man named Carnegie you might want to peruse sometime,” he suggested. “Humans seem to like that one. Read a bit of it myself once. Don’t recall offhand there being a chapter endorsing the practice of macheting people whenever conversation fails.”

She snorted before she could prevent herself. This beast was lecturing her on the subject of making friends? While the Alpha Alex was widely feared and revered, he was not well liked by many. Not many at all. This much she knew.

“Mm … can’t read, huh?” he very insultingly presumed, scratching his jaw. “Figures. Well, in any case, I can’t allow you to go about macheting my pack members every time you’re startled or feel threatened, understand?”

She nodded slowly.

“Good.” He extended his hand to her, palm up. “The machete.” It was an Alpha command.

Her eyes danced nervously from the bloody weapon in her shaking hands to the Alpha’s expectant face. Briefly she considered going for his throat with it. His sudden, deep roll of laughter startled her, and she tottered backwards on wobbly legs.

Capable arms caught her from behind before she tumbled to her ass. On reflex, she flailed and swung wildly with the weapon. But the stranger who’d caught her from behind seemed to have anticipated this exact reaction from her, as his arms immediately trapped hers and his hand clamped forcefully over her wrist, instantly stilling the weapon’s movement before she could do damage to herself or anyone around her.

“Shhhh—you’re okay. Be calm and let go, Lupe,” Kai’s most welcome voice soothed in her ear, using nearly the same tone he’d employed throughout her labor. “I’m in charge,” he whispered. “You will heed me and let go. Now, Lupe,” he ordered. “Do as I say and I will take care of you.”

She understood what he was after. She would have to relinquish her weapon to the Alpha. There was no way around it. Alex had commanded it, and Kai would have to obey him. If Kai were to have any chance at all of protecting her from Alex, she would have to do exactly as instructed.

Reluctantly, biting back a sob, she let Kai pry her father’s machete from her bloodless fingers.

As it thumped to the ground, she felt completely lost. Overwhelmingly, devastatingly vulnerable. She needed that machete! Real or imagined, it had served as her anchor to safety in a world where otherwise she would always be subjugated and powerless. Without it, she already felt defeated.

“I apologize, my Alpha,” Kai ingratiated. “The girl is my responsibility in Alcaeus’ absence. I accept full blame for whatever mishap has occurred here.”

She very nearly giggled with hysteria at his formal tone and choice of phrasing. Mishap? A man had been beheaded. Another had been killed by less than a shrug.

The Alpha’s expression was inscrutable as he retrieved the machete, pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket, and proceeded to wipe the bloodstained blade clean.

“I’ll take her home and see that all of this is appropriately taken care of,” Kai rushed on, stepping forward and grabbing hold of Lupe’s elbow, preparing to drag her away at the earliest opportunity.