Kept (21 page)

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Authors: Shawntelle Madison

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BOOK: Kept
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“You almost won again tonight.” She threw a quick glance at Primus’s corpse. “Your warlock’s dead, and you’ll soon follow. But—” Her head whipped in my direction. “We have business to settle for the Little Wolf.”

She ran one clawed hand down the side of his face while the other one gripped his windpipe. “What is it you need to do to clear her moon debt?”

“I need to call her pack leader,” Roscoe moaned.

“By all means.” Her hands flicked, and a phone snapped out of his pocket into his hand. “Make the call.”

Roscoe choked as he tried to take a breath. He squirmed, and I saw Lisbetta’s grip tighten.

His hand barely held the phone while he dialed. I heard a familiar voice over the speakerphone.

“Roscoe, you dumbass. You know what time it is, boy?” Old Farley Grantham grated.

“Yes.” His response was so low it barely sounded like one.

The other end of the phone went quiet.

Roscoe’s voice was wet and weak when he said, “I … release Fyodor Stravinsky from his moon debt.”

The cell phone was silent for a bit. “Are you sure about that?”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Farley would say some bullshit like that.

“Yes,” Roscoe choked out.

The spring fairy queen spoke next, in the voice of Roscoe’s girlfriend. “Honey, you need to come back and give me attention. Tell him you’re busy.” Lisbetta’s free hand shot out to crush the cell phone.

With the moon debt lifted, my hand lowered. Instead of gripping a box, I now held a blade. The goblin’s blade. Well, who would’ve thought it’d come in so handy?

Lisbetta flicked her fingers, and the crates moved out of the way. Roscoe’s girl beat a hasty retreat.

“It’s time for you to go home, Little Wolf,” Lisbetta said softly.

I took a tentative step toward Roscoe. Here was the man who’d taken my father. Called him a bastard, had him beaten to near death, plotted to have Thorn and me captured by the goblin. Seeing tears streak down his face, I almost wanted him released—so I could beat the shit out of him myself. But I knew our ways. If he was caught by anyone from my family, they’d slaughter him without an afterthought. Since he had no honor, he never would have agreed to release my family from the debt.

My voice wavered, but I spoke true. “I want to see his punishment.”

Lisbetta slowly grinned. “No, you really don’t. There’s a part of you that’s human—and that part isn’t ready for what I’m about to do to him. What I did to Primus is
nothing
compared to the punishment Roscoe shall receive.”

The little girl was gone. Only the bitter spring fairy remained. She yanked harder on his neck. “Just think of it this way, you’ll have your revenge tonight. And so will I.”

As I turned and walked out of the room, I pondered the Code and what it meant to be an honorable werewolf. Who was the strong one now? I wondered if Roscoe would be thinking the same thing before he died.

Chapter 16

T
he
first thing I did when I entered South Toms River was find my dad. I was practically gnawing at the bit to snuggle with my niece, but that could wait. I’d have plenty of time to get acquainted with her and play babysitter.

Werewolves usually don’t need medical care, since we have the ability to heal rapidly. But sometimes—like when a wolf is at death’s door—we must turn to a werewolf who knows the healing arts. Most healers were pack members who have had training as veterinarians. The pack offered them additional money on the side to provide care as needed.

When I arrived at the healer’s home to see Dad, he had a look of shock on his face. His wide eyes told me everything. He hadn’t expected his daughter to live through fulfilling—or not fulfilling—the moon debt.

After what I’d experienced in Maine, and at Roscoe’s place, and finally with Nick’s kiss, I felt like I couldn’t experience anything crazier. Even taxes in April seemed a welcome trial to have to go through.

“You’re alive,” he said with relief. “Farley called not too long ago and told me I was free.”

“Looks like I don’t get to be the one to share my good news.”

Dad’s large hand stretched out and pulled me into a
warm hug. I might be a grown woman now, but hugs from my dad still felt good. Especially after how things had been a few months ago. We hadn’t spoken to each other much after I’d been kicked out of the pack.

“How did the trip go?” he asked.

I gave him the blow by blow. Minus the details of what had occurred between Nick and me. When I got to the part where Lisbetta manhandled Roscoe, Dad feigned disgust. But he didn’t have to hold back his anger from me anymore. I knew more about his dirty little secrets now.

“You never should’ve been involved in this. I never wanted you to see such things,” he said. “My daughter should be married with kids. Not rescuing her old man in Atlantic City.”

He left out the fact that I’d also seen him beaten to near death. That was something I really hadn’t wanted to see. Even after my family had turned me away, I never would have wished for something like that to happen. My father was irreplaceable.

When tears threatened to come, I rolled my eyes and tried to look cheerful. “Dad, it’s all over now. You can forget Roscoe and all the bad things about him.”

“He was once another man—in another time. When he saved my life, his intentions weren’t malicious back then.”

Well, time had done a really bad number on Roscoe, then. My father hadn’t seen the look on his face when Roscoe’d told me he wanted to kill me.

“Would you have given him mercy even after what he did to you?” I asked.

Dad sat for a bit, thinking. He scratched the bald spot on his head, like he always did when he thought deeply. “I think I would have—unless he threatened to hurt my children. Every man tries to do the right thing, but that
ends when another man hurts—or attempts to hurt—one of his own.”

His voice lowered. “Did he threaten to take your life?”

“He wasn’t happy I’d failed …” My voice trailed off, and so I changed the subject. “Your color looks good, Dad.”

“Yours doesn’t.” He chuckled and patted my shoulder. The bad one.

“Easy there.” I cringed and couldn’t stop from making that noise best described as something between a sheep bleeting and a bear groaning.

The healer came in to investigate. At around five foot one, Pearl McDowell was smaller compared to most wolves. In a way, she reminded me a bit of my grandmother, if you rewound the clock a century or two. Pearl was around my mother’s age and had the same brown hair and soft brown eyes as Grandma. Maybe one could even say she had gentle features that would’ve offered a nice smile. But that’s where it all ended. She wasn’t as gentle as Grandma, and I’d learned the hard way she believed a firm hand was needed with ornery werewolves.

“In the examination room,” she snapped with her hand on her hips. “Now. You stink of death and blood, so I’m curious to see what you’ve broken.”

After a quick exam, the healer wasn’t happy. “You’ve broken your shoulder. The healing’s coming along nicely, but it’s
much
slower than it should be. You’re also barely awake right now.”

She examined my eyes and checked my pulse. “Way too slow. Rather weird.”

“The fairies somehow hijacked my body to reach the man who held my father’s debt. Maybe I’ve got a few residual signs.” I didn’t dare tell her about everything else that happened during the trip. Especially since it
involved a wizard. It wouldn’t take long at all for the news to go from my father to my mom. She’s always had a personal vendetta against spellcasters.

“I honestly don’t know. In all my years, I’ve never heard of such things before.” She shrugged. “Magic’s not something I deal with in my trade so anything could be wrong with you. It could very well be exhaustion.”

“But I’ve been exhausted before and it’s never been like
this
.”

“Could you be pregnant?” She knew very well by my scent that I wasn’t knocked up, and I didn’t find her joke funny.

“I’d need to have sex first for that to be a possibility.”

She snorted. “Magic might be behind all this, but either way, I want you to come back to see me in a few days. At least I can make sure you’re bouncing back.”

I nodded and said my good-byes to Dad and Pearl. Now that I knew he was well, I could go home and face the next day. With the trials coming soon, I’d need as much recovery time as possible.

Like any excited aunt, I rushed to visit my niece—but only after a thorough shower. It felt so good to get back into my regular clothes. There’s nothing like a black pencil skirt and a crisp blouse to make a gal feel clean. Most folks don’t wear business casual where I’m from, but the way I see it, I’m always prepared for most occasions. Aggie wasn’t at the house, so I headed to my brother’s alone. Karey had given birth at home—which was now Alex’s house—so my destination wasn’t far from my parents’ place.

My brother had never thought much in terms of decorating his house, so his starter home used to blend in with the rest of the colonials in his subdivision. Karey had changed that. I walked up to a house where happy hands had landscaped the lawn to perfection. There
wasn’t a sprinkle of snow on the sidewalk. Hell, even the barren trees looked like they’d had makeovers.

The driveway was full of cars, and judging by the earthy scent coming from the house, I suspected this place was full to the brim with nymphs and other woodland creatures.

I knocked on the door, and Karey actually answered it.

“You made it!” Alex’s wife was a tiny little thing. I’d met many wood nymphs in my time. They had a strange come-frolic-in-the-woods smell that always seemed to brighten my mood. But unlike Karey, most woodland creatures preferred to keep away from werewolves. Our kinds just didn’t have much in common. While the nymphs protected the forest and its creatures, the pack hunted and
ate
its inhabitants. A rather awkward situation, if one thought about it.

I presented Karey with the gift bags I was carrying. Thank goodness I’d bought this stuff a few weeks ago. I always tried to plan ahead. As much as I shopped for holiday stuff, you wouldn’t believe the deals I got on holiday baby stuff as well. While stuffing my cart, I’d looked like I was a holiday crack addict with a look of wild glee on my face.

“Oh, thank you.” She directed me through the living room and into the kitchen. Most of her guests were in there. A few scrutinized me with disdain, since I was one of
his
relatives.

“Natalya made it back from Maine safely.” Karey pointed to the empty chairs. “Have a seat. I’ll go get Alex.”

Right after Karey left, one of the girls gave her an oh-that’s-so-nice look. I hated those looks. Anyone with a brain cell that fired correctly knew people eyeballed you that way when they didn’t give a damn if you’d gotten lost in the woods and had to gnaw your arm off to escape
from under a rock. You were just another person interfering with their inner circle of friends.

To show I’d been raised well, I waved at everyone and introduced myself. No one waved back.

I glanced around the room and spotted my niece right away. A nymph, who had to be around my age (I think), held the baby close. When she spotted me coming, she angled the child in my direction.

“Isn’t she pretty?” the nymph said.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” I put down my purse on the kitchen table and pulled out some antiseptic gel. After cleaning my hands, I’d be ready to hold Sveta.

When I approached the baby, I said gently, “Auntie Nat has been waiting so long to see you.”

“I bet you have,” the nymph holding her said. She eyed the faint bruises along my wrists.

I kept the smile on my face—this wasn’t the time for snide comebacks.

All the nymphs continued to stare me down. Their conversation had abruptly ended, probably so they could make me feel even
more
self-conscious. How nice of them.

“Could I hold her?” I asked.

The nymph pursed her lips. I could almost see the hamster turning its wheel in her brain before she replied. “She’s just gone to sleep. I wouldn’t want her to wake up.”

“I won’t wake her. I’ve held babies before.” I offered my hand and curled arm to show I knew what to do. “Besides, I’m her aunt.”

The nymph’s reply came fast. “I’m her aunt as well. So are most of the women in this room.”

My smile froze on my face.

One of the nymphs on the other side of the room said something in a foreign tongue to the nymph beside her. Probably Greek. The other laughed.

My hands threatened to clench into fists. But I kept on smiling. I really did.

Alex thankfully showed up before I won a nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize.

“Nat.” We hugged briefly. “Dad called me and told me about what happened. You okay?”

“As much as I can be. I’ll be better once I cuddle with my niece.”

Alex’s forehead scrunched. “You haven’t held Sveta yet?”

My brother marched right up to the nymph who held the baby and plucked her from the nymph’s arms.

“Now, Alex, Karey just got her to sleep.”

Alex grunted. “I’ll rock her if she wakes up, Fiona. Don’t worry. Sveta needs to know the smell of her pack.”

The nymph gave me a dirty look when my brother turned away, but I didn’t care. I was caught up in seeing my younger brother with his firstborn. He was so gentle with her. My chest swelled, and I couldn’t help the sigh I released. Alexander Stravinsky had come a long way, from man-whore to responsible dad.

“Here’s your
tyotia, princessa
.” He placed her in my arms.

Pure happiness filled me to the brim. A tear hit my cheek and wetted her blanket. She barely weighed a thing.

“She’s perfect.” I ran a finger down the side of Svetlana’s face. So soft. The child didn’t even stir when I pulled back her cap to reveal a head free from hair. Not a single strand.

“I guess that answers that question,” I murmured.

I rubbed my nose against her cheek and inhaled. She was a mixture of scents—the forest at dawn when a mist covered it, the light musk of fur when you rubbed your nose on it. Both her mother and father lived in her.

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