Soul Avenged (Sons of Wrath, #1) (31 page)

Kane shrugged.
“Just a curious question.”

“No more
curious questions.”

Kane finally
climbed off of the bike and stared up at his familiar home. He’d
never been particularly bonded to it, by any means. For the most
part, it remained empty and he was never there to enjoy it much.
Though,
God
, what he wouldn’t give to go back to the week
before, when he’d walked the concrete stairs to the front porch,
feeling nothing more than exhausted from work.

“Kane?” The
male voice that called to him had an edge of surprise.

Canning a
groan, Kane rolled his eyes and turned with as much of a smile as
he could muster, catching Ayden watching from the other side of the
bike, a warning in her eyes.

Richard—not
Rick, Rich or Dick—from across the street, ambled up the drive;
Kane’s obsessive compulsive and snoopy neighbor.

“Richard! Hey,
how’s it going, buddy?” He cringed at the sound of his fake
voice.

“Where’ve you
been Kane? The news reported you … missing,” Richard said,
suspicion in his tone.

“Ha!” Kane
shook his head. “Wonder what made them think that?”
Smooth,
Kane. Real smooth.

“Your car and
keys were left in the hospital parking lot. You’ve been on the news
all week. Haven’t you watched television?”

“Ah, nope.
Pretty damn busy.”
Being held captive by a lycan-slaying
dick-tease and her demon posse in a mansion, guarded by hellhounds.
You?
Kane grinned.

“Who is this?”
Richard didn’t skip a beat when it came to being nosy.

“A … my. Amy.
A friend of mine. Amy, this is Richard.”

“Pleasure,”
Ayden said with little enthusiasm.

“You’re one of
his girlfriends?”

“
One
of
his girlfiends? No. I’m just a
friend
.” Ayden’s lip
twitched.

“Who happens
to be a girl,” Kane said, smiling back at her. “Hey, I see you’ve
been shoveling my drive, Richard. Thanks.”

Richard
shrugged. “Is there anything worse than frozen tracks on the
driveway?”

Kane stood
thoughtful and glanced over at Ayden. “No. I suppose there’s
nothing worse than that.”

Richard
sighed. “Well, good to see you Kane. I’m going to go sweep my front
porch,”—he gestured behind him—“again. Nice to meet you, Amy.” Brow
furrowed, he shuffled back across the street.

Ayden raised
an eyebrow. “Amy?”

Kane shrugged.
“Not bad for thinking on the fly, huh?”

She set the
helmet on the bike. “Let’s get on with this.”

“I’ll be right
back.”

Her hand
reached out for him but hesitated. “Uh, where do you think you’re
going?”

“I don’t have
keys.”

“So you have a
spare?”

“No. I have a
broken window that I’ve been meaning to fix for the last six months
in the back of the house.” He scratched his chin, noting how it
seemed to be growing scruffier by the minute. “And to think I
worried all this time about getting attacked in the middle of the
night in my own home.”

“Hurry up.”
She pointed her finger again. “Don’t make me come after you.”

Kane jogged to
the back of the house. He removed the loose screen and jimmied the
lock loose, as he’d done before, cringing when some of the wood
popped away.

What does it
matter?

He lifted the
window and climbed inside, stepping onto the dryer that still
smelled of fabric softener. Not that Kane did much laundry. He had
his clothes dry-cleaned. The maid washed linens once a week.
Wonder if Rosa even bothered. Did she see me on the
news?

Kane made his
way into the kitchen and paused.

His newly
renovated, gourmet kitchen had been turned upside down. Tables and
chairs on top of each other, kitchen drawers emptied onto the
countertops, his refrigerator wide open, the contents scattered
about the floor.

What the
hell?

He continued
through the small hallway toward the living room.

Ayden stood in
the center, staring around at the mess.

“What was that
you said about a bachelor pad and not finding anything?” She
grinned. “Front door was opened a crack.”

“Who the hell
would do this?”

“My guess? The
one who dropped you on that landing and planned to come back for
you.”

Kane crouched
and rubbed a hand down his face at the wreck of his living room.
His leather couches had been torn apart; his flatscreen television
knocked to the floor; the entire entertainment system in
pieces.

He rose to a
stand. “What the fuck does it matter,” he muttered and headed
toward the staircase.

“What are you
doing?”

“Getting a
clean set of clothes.”

Ayden’s head
tilted, as if to say,
what for?

“I’d like to
get a baggier pair of jeans—even if I only get to wear them the
next two days. It’s been years since I’ve worn something
casual.”

She jerked her
chin toward the stairs. “Can you grab me a couple of your
shirts?”

He frowned.
“Why?”

“Because I
don’t want to ask Gavin for one of his. And I’m sick of wearing
leather pants to bed every night. It’s uncomfortable.”

Kane crossed
his arms over his chest. “So, this Gavin … Annabelle mentioned him.
Are you a couple, or something?”

“That’s none
of your business.” She picked up a CD from the pile on the floor,
examining it before tossing it atop the others. “But, no. We’re
not.”

Kane placed
his fingertips on his hips and grinned. “Let me guess. He wants a
relationship. You don’t.”

“Did I not
just tell you that it’s none of your business?” She glanced around
the room again, but returned to Kane. “Is it that obvious?”

“You? Woman
with a traumatic past, who seeks out unfriendly, ass-kicking Wrath
Demon for casual sex and side-jobs, in exchange for complete
freedom and the power to do as she wants, when she wants. No. Not
really.”

“I didn’t seek
Gavin out. He found me. And he’s not as unfriendly as he’d like
everyone to believe.”

“No, mom,
really, he’s a great guy, you just need to get to know him.”

She waved him
off. “Whatever, you
don’t
know him.”

“If he’s so
wonderful, why deny him what he wants?”

“It’s
complicated. And I don’t remember hiring you as my relationship
expert. So, why don’t you go get those goddamn jeans and hurry it
up?”

Kane took a
couple stairs at a time to reach the bedrooms. The spare was just
as ransacked as the rest of the place. His room, once a relaxing
haven after work, a place he’d had many passionate encounters with
a few women, pillaged and destroyed.

What the hell
could they possibly be looking for?

He picked up a
broken frame on the floor, a picture of him as a boy, about seven
years old, holding up a prized fish. His father stood with his hand
on his shoulder behind him.

Kane scrubbed
his hand against the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. His lips
formed a hard line.

What the hell
have I been doing my whole life?

He lifted the
nightstand, replaced the lamp and set the picture frame back where
it belonged.

***

Ayden knelt to
the floor, propping one knee up to rest her chin on. The room
must’ve been his office at one point. An entire box had been tipped
over, the contents spilled across the floor. She picked up trophies
for baseball and hockey; baseball cards; yearbooks that had been
signed; folded notes; pictures. In one photograph, Kane wore a
goofy tux, though he, admittedly, looked handsome, standing behind
some young blonde in a prom dress.

Ayden chuckled
and reached for another: a picture of what she assumed to be him as
a boy, holding a baby girl in his arms. She flipped it over. ‘Kane
and Maria, 1989’.
His sister.
There were awards for National
Honor Society, Perfect Attendance. She lifted a card with the same
picture she’d seen in his wallet. An obituary. On the inside was a
poem:

My sister is
Maria

She just
turned eleven

God took her
from my family

So she could
live in heaven.

She plays with
all the angels

And watches
over me

Maria is an
angel too

Because God
set her free.

Another scrap
of paper lay buried in the box, folded. She opened it, the weak
uneven edges crinkling in her hands.
Your smiling faces in your
happy places. Torn in half by my own two hands.
On the other
side of it, a hippie-like woman smiled back, sitting on a patch of
grass in what appeared to be a park. She leaned into a torn edge of
the picture, whatever drew her hidden by the damage.

Ayden’s
scratched at her temple. Something inside of her felt wrong for
having read the words. As if she’d somehow violated Kane. She set
the card and picture back into the box and piled the remaining
items inside.

Funny how one
small cardboard box held more sentiment than everything in her
world. So many memories of his life, contained.

Footsteps
approached from behind. Kane knelt down beside her, picked through
the pictures lying on top and reached for the poem she’d just held.
His lips tightened as he stared at it for a moment.

“Our mom had
kind of flown the coop when Maria went downhill. Got really
religious, which was weird because she was never really the
religious type before. Hence my name.” He chuckled. “Maria was
named after an aunt, or something.” Kane reached for a picture in
the pile. “I think my mom spent more time at the church than with
my sister.” He cleared his throat. “It was summer when things got
bad. Most of my friends were playing baseball or riding bikes. Man,
I wanted to. But, I just sat with Maria. All day long. Didn’t seem
right to be doing things that she couldn’t anymore. Figured I had
plenty of time to do those things.”

Silence hung
in the air for a moment, and Ayden felt compelled to say something
but remained quiet.

“I used to
read to her every night, just like my mom always did. Her favorite
book was
Where the Wild Things Are
.” He grinned. “Made me
read the damn thing to her over and over again.” Kane frowned and
set the poem back down in the box. “She told me once that if she
was the boy, she wouldn’t have come back.” He sniffed, shook his
head. “I remember thinking, so simple-minded,
why would you
choose to stay in a world of monsters than be home in your own
bed?
”

“I don’t …
remember if I’ve ever read that story.” An alien softness came
through in Ayden’s voice, and she half hoped he hadn’t heard her.
She’d only spoken for something to say.

“It’s a
classic. One of my favorites.” Kane rifled through the box. “My dad
gave me this box of stuff, right after my mom died. As you can see,
I didn’t get around to going through it.” He grabbed one of the
trophies for hockey. “I was never any good at hockey.”

“Good enough
to get a trophy, though.”

Kane smiled.
“Everyone got a trophy. Used to irritate the shit out of my dad. He
always said it bred mediocrity.” He tossed the trophy back into the
box. “What the hell’s the point of being the fastest or the
strongest if there’s always something bigger, faster and stronger
than us?”

Ayden fidgeted
her fingers. “Looks like you were into a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah. I liked
to keep myself busy. Kept me away from home.”

“Sounds like
you had a decent childhood, though. A decent life.” Why she
suddenly needed to hear that from him, she wasn’t sure.

“If you’re
wondering if I’m ready to die, I’ll spare you. You have no choice.
It doesn’t matter what my life was, or what it could have been.
This is what it is now.”

She rested her
chin on her knee again. “At least you get to keep your
memories.”

“I’d give
every memory away to go back to what I was last week. Just a normal
guy, doing normal things.”

Her head
lolled to the side. “And your sister, Maria? You would choose to
forget her to be what you were?”

His jaw
hardened, a pained expression on his face. “I loved my sister. But
she died a very painful death. I know she’d let me go, let me
forget the past, if it meant becoming one of the good guys
again.”

Ayden sat
absorbing his words for a moment before saying, “Kane … you’re not
a bad guy … yet.”

“Yeah.” He
thrust up to his feet, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Did you
find what you were looking for?”

Ayden noticed
he’d shaved, his jaw well-groomed with stubble. He’d changed his
clothes: dark jeans, black boots and a gray t-shirt, a
vintage-looking, black leather cruiser jacket with white stripes
down the sleeve.
Dayum
. He cleaned up pretty nice for a
wolf. Damn nice.
Is that cologne? Delicious.
“Mmm …. What’s
that?”

“Did you find
what you need?”

Breaking from
her trance, she cleared her throat. “Do you have any pets?”

“No. Why?”

“Then, yes.”
she held up a wad of gray hair she’d gathered in the living room.
“I think the wolves have been here. Sloppy. He’s definitely new to
the pack. Found Evan’s resume in one of your files. You have a
complete set of work files at home, too?”

“I don’t
remember the last time I had a day off.” Kane grabbed the coarse
hair with a repulsed expression on his face. “Evan’s a wolf. So
what now?”

An impish grin
spread across her face. “I’m feeling primed for an
ass-kicking.”

He raised an
eyebrow. “Who do you have in mind?”

“The wolf that
may have bitten you.”

***

Kane glanced
down at the address on the resume and compared it against the
number on the trailer. “Yep. This is it.”