Becoming Bad (The Becoming Novels) (22 page)
Read Becoming Bad (The Becoming Novels) Online
Authors: Jess Raven,Paula Black
Freed from his jaws, Ash snapped her own around his throat. Tyr went limp and her growl thrummed satisfaction into the air.
Enough!
Ash projected the word, hard and fast, to every corner of the room.
Crimson eyes turned to her, their bodies frozen in acts of violence. Mac had Fite in a throat-lock, Connal had one giant paw resting on the stump of a neck, Brandr and Rún were elbow deep in dead and wounded, Knutr chuffed from somewhere behind her. Her pack was alive and she had a bargaining tool. Fite’s reinforcements slumped or leaned on one another, brought to heel by her demand. They were listening.
Stop this now Fite, or I finish him,
she said
.
Beneath Mac, the silver wolf imploded. Skin replaced fur, and Fite lay with his human throat bared, red eyes and perma-claws the only part of his beast remaining.
His posture was submissive. His words were not.
‘The she-wolf returns to Fomor over my dead body, my Lord.’
Mac’s rumble curled his lip off wicked canines, the great beast growling a threat to Fite’s pulse before the animal was caged back inside the man. Securing Fite’s shoulders to the floor with his knees, Mac’s hands encircled the other male’s throat and he leaned close. ‘Unfortunately that can be arranged, Fite. You are my
skuldalid
, my family, but I will not abandon one of my own to the Morrígan's curse. We are mongrels all, crossbreeds born of a need to survive. Ashling DeMorgan is no different in that. She will not be imprisoned or put to death because we fear the unknown.’ The direction of numerous stares was not lost on Ash; her wings itched under the attention. ‘Some lessons are well learned,’ MacTire continued, and his eyes rose to meet Connal’s briefly before pinning Fite in the power of his conviction. ‘Do not make me choose, for it will be her.’
'That won't be necessary,' Connal said, and every head turned to stare at him. Even the dead ones seemed rapt.
Some time, amidst the chaos, Connal had shifted back to human form and Ash allowed herself to take her first good look at him when he spoke. He was a shock to her system, and that was before she let herself mourn his hair. All his gorgeous dreads had been hacked off, leaving a jagged mess of short hair and bloodied scalp. Between the run-in with a sadistic barber and the dog-fight, Ash was expecting the rugged landscape of his body to bear some marks. But looking him over? There were more than she could explain. Bruises and scratches marred his skin, layered under the fresh lacerations. Blotches of purple were raised along his shoulders. She swallowed hard when her gaze tracked down. The nipple rings were really gone. What the hell had happened to him? She would have asked, but her wolf’s muzzle didn’t allow for speech and she couldn’t imagine him appreciating her being in his head.
The choice was taken from her anyway, as Mac changed position on Fite so he could look at Connal. ‘Speak,’ he commanded gruffly.
Yes, please, God, speak. Explain.
He didn’t look at her, but when he answered, Connal was just as taciturn, his voice just as deep. ‘This is for Ashling to decide.’
Her ears pricked at her name on his lips, pleasure a soft pull in her chest. She was too busy trying to will Connal’s eyes to hers that she didn’t realise Rún and Brandr had come to relieve her of Tyr. She relinquished her domination to the two males, backing off and standing uncertainly at the side. Mac was still on Fite, poised to finish him if he made a move towards her, but his eyes were on her: dark as sin and warm as coal.
Faced with the inevitable post-shift nakedness, Ash didn’t know what to do. Fur and fangs were a lot more intimidating than bare-assed female. The males in the room, barring maybe one, didn’t want to jump her. They wanted to kill her.
To Hell with it,
she thought.
They already thought her an abomination, seeing her naked couldn’t be much worse. Taking a deep breath, Ash tucked her wings in tighter and braced for the change. It was an implosion, the primal energy collapsing in and humanity bursting out. Fur receded and she rose from all fours with only the slightest wobble.
A growl lashed through the air. ‘
Jesus
. Will you cover yourself?’ She started at Connal’s outburst, curling into herself as he attacked a tapestry off the wall and launched it blindly in her direction. The heavy fabric thwacked against her body and she had the mind to snatch it before it fell, but mortification was rapidly raising a head-to-toe flush of wounded embarrassment. Connal didn’t say another word, no one spoke, and yet he burned her with his judgement. He couldn’t bear to look at her.
She was an abomination to him too.
God, she was really starting to hate that word. She secured the cloth around her, risking a glance under her lashes. Most of the wolves had their eyes averted, a few were watching her in their peripheral. She forced her spine straighter and wore the tapestry like armour, daring Connal to think his worst. Faced with the perfection of him, Ash was struggling to find words and finding it even harder to keep her gaze from his and above waist level. She settled for frowning at his chest.
Knutr broke the silence when it threatened to suffocate them. ‘You think she wants your cock swinging in her face, Savage?’ he said. ‘Put these on.’
She hadn’t noticed Knutr shifting. Somebody had the forethought to bring a bag of clothes and her uncle mimicked Connal’s treatment of her, hurling dark denim at his head. Ash shot him a grateful smile and he winked, lips spread in crazed amusement.
Glad someone is having fun,
she thought
.
Connal’s growls ratcheted up a notch as he aimed dagger glares at Knutr and dragged the jeans up his thighs. They stuck to him like they’d been painted on, his legs thick with muscle and testing the denim’s seams. Obviously, the jeans were for someone with less bulk. Ash was
not
enjoying his discomfort. Nope. Not even a little bit. When the zipper strained to a close, she rounded on him, chin tipped up. They had a conversation to continue.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘what do you have to say to me?’
‘You have a choice, Ash,' Connal said. 'You don’t have to go back.’ He still wouldn’t meet her frown, but he took a step forwards. His hands were out, like he was stopping himself from reaching for her and couldn’t bring himself to completely pull back. ‘If you don’t want to, that is.’ His eyes strayed to MacTire, drawn back to her when she pointedly shifted her weight.
She was trapped in the middle of confusion and hope, not quite daring to believe him. Her fingers toyed nervously with a curl. 'I don't,' she whispered.
He shook his head, light, absent the dreads. 'You don't?'
'I mean ... no, I want to stay. Here.'
With you
. She couldn't say it but there was a catch in her throat that said it all. Her soul was latching onto his words. She didn’t have to go back. She could be with him, or at least in the same city as him, maybe see him sometimes. Ash wasn’t deluding herself that this meant they could start back up where they’d left off.
'I ...' Connal was tongue-tied as he took another step forward. He tugged the silver ring from his little finger and taking her hand in his own, it slipped onto her ring finger with the fit of long familiarity. Such a fluid move, it took a second for her brain to catch up and realise why the ring fit perfectly. When it did, her knees shook as the silver reconnected with her heartstrings. Her mother. She had the last part of her mother back and Connal had given it to her.
‘I ...’
Oh great, tongue-tied is contagious,
she thought
.
Flustered, questions bounded on the tip of Ash’s tongue. How did he get it? Why was he giving it to her? To name a few. If he had been on one knee, it would have made more sense. ‘Ummm ...’
Bad thought direction, Ash. Say something.
She withdrew her hand, allowing her fingers to drag along his and thumbing the silver band. She was breathless. ‘My mother’s ring. Where did you find it?’
Connal took a deep breath and when he hazarded a glance at her, she pinned it. She would not let him look away this time. Muscles tensed across his shoulders, bracing. ‘I took it from your room. I’m sorry. I needed something meaningful to you.’
Ash’s face was written in confusion.
‘The Morrígan, your grandmother, has agreed to offer you protection from the curse. As long as you wear this ring, you’ll be free to live as you choose ... or to return to Fomor, if that’s what you want.’
‘She’s not coming back to Fomor!’ Fite’s snarl jolted them back to the realisation that they were not in their own world. They actually shared it with a bunch of injured and dead wolves. The silver-haired warrior was struggling against Mac.
The King cocked his arm back and landed a punch on Fite’s jaw. The crack rang painfully loud around the room. ‘Not. Your. Decision,’ Mac said.
Fite glowered, rigid and unwavering. ‘Finish it then, my Lord.’
Ash could see Mac gearing up to hit him again.
Channelling a rumble of her beast’s authority, she ordered them. ‘Stop. Please stop.’ She made herself meet Fite’s glare, directing some of her words to him. ‘It’s ok. I won’t go back. I’ll stay. I want to stay here.’
Mac’s face shuttered, but he wasn’t quick enough to hide the injury her words had caused. If she hadn’t been focussed on him, she wouldn’t have seen the pain. Something in her chest clenched and she had to shake herself. His face was blank as he backed off Fite, mechanical where there had been emotion, he lowered his fist.
Ash was feeling too much to arrange a facade; every thought was on her face. She looked back to Connal, her soul crawling into her eyes. ‘What about you? Are you safe?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ he said. His fingers touched the chain stretched tight around his thick neck, delicate and ...
hers!
The pendant was hers. But why was he wearing it? Ash’s hand subconsciously stroked the coin dangling from her wrist. He was grim and surly and he wouldn’t look her in the eye, but he’d given her a ring and he was wearing her necklace. Her heart did a backflip, and she steeled her spine. She couldn’t dare to hope.
Bruised and aching from the fight, the wolves traipsed single file through the vault door into Connal’s home in the basement of the DeMorgan house. A low whistle of appreciation came from the back of the line as they took in the high ceilings and old-world industrial feel of the space. If anyone had told him just days ago he'd be holding open-house to this shower of bastards, Connal would have had them measured for a hug-me jacket and a padded cell up at the funny farm.
My enemy’s enemy is my friend,
he told himself.
Dublin's streets were heaving with the army of thralls that descended on Form every full moon. Much as it galled him, Connal had to acknowledge that sending a pack of half-naked, bleeding wolves out into the fray would be lunacy. The
thegn
evacuation MacTire was arranging via cell-phone couldn’t come fast enough.
They were quite the band of merry men, shirtless and barefoot in their borrowed jeans, Ash clutching the dusty tapestry around her breasts like a sarong. Fite, Tyr and the other rebels were herded into Connal’s wolf-cage at gun-point. The silver-haired warrior with the
Fu Manchu
mustache sneered at him through the bars as Connal secured the lock. Fite’s reluctant submission remained conditional on Ash not returning with them to Fomor after the full moon. Connal grunted a laugh. If only the guy knew what he was asking.
The Morrígan had granted Connal a stay of just one lunar cycle in which to complete the deed. After that, all bets were off.
He exhaled, eyes straying to the crossbow that the straggly-haired one, Knutr, was laying down on the kitchen table alongside the other weapons. He hadn’t had to ask them to disarm on entering his home, they’d done it out of respect. Connal strode over to the table and his hand brushed the weapons, hovering over Mac’s handgun.
So many ways to end a life.
Ash's voice filtered into hearing-range and he tuned into the conversation.
‘What will you do to them?’ she asked.
‘A night in the lock-up should cool their mutinous asses.’ MacTire looked so relaxed in her company, and she in his, when she didn’t know Connal was watching.
‘But the full moon ends at dawn,’ she frowned, ‘they’ll die.’
The sleazy bastard leaned in close to Ash’s ear and whispered. ‘I have every intention of releasing them before then, not that they need to know that. Nothing like a brush with your own mortality to crystallize your priorities.’
Connal stared daggers at their backs as MacTire tucked a stray lock of hair behind Ash’s ear, his thoughts running to strangling the son of a bitch with his own blond ponytail.
How about that for a brush with mortality, asshole?
‘That’s twice you’ve saved my life, Mac,’ Ash said, ‘I hope one day to return the favour.’
‘I watched you fight, you know,’ MacTire replied, ‘you were incredible.’
The smile she gifted him had a growl bubbling up in Connal’s throat. Like he needed more ammunition, he could kill him just for having seen her naked.
She was sleeping in his bed,
the devil stage-whispered in his mind
.
‘Will you be safe?’ Ash asked. ‘Going back there?’
‘Do not concern yourself with my safety, Ashling. I’ve been wrangling these unruly beasts for centuries.’ He grinned, smug. ‘A taste of humble pie will soon deflate their egos.’
Obnoxious, cocky bastard,
Connal thought
. I’ll ram your humble pie so far up your ass you’ll be picking it out of your teeth for weeks.
Connal turned away, unable to listen to more. Everywhere he turned, the King’s men were lounging, cleaning their wounds and manhandling his stuff. Christ. He'd never get the stench of them out of his furniture.
‘Thank you for letting us into your home.’ Connal turned back to see MacTire striding towards him. ‘It means a lot, given everything ...’ the King stalled, leaving an awkward moment of silence. ‘We will not abuse the hospitality. Will we, men?’ MacTire kicked Brandr’s legs off Connal’s coffee table and walked to the kitchen area to smack the refrigerator door shut on Knutr’s face.
Connal entertained the fantasy of trapping the lot of them inside, shutting the door and just waiting for them all to die. Like a bug bomb for Fomorians. The clean-up would be a killer though. Covering the distance to the fireside bookshelves, he snatched a bottle of twelve-year-old Redbreast from the paws of another wolf. The guy put his hands up and backed away, offering an apologetic smile. Connal glared back and stalked to his bedroom in search of peace. He sat on the bed and necked the bottle, running a hand over his shorn head. The havoc out there wasn’t a patch on the chaotic state of his mind.
‘Are you just going to pretend I don’t exist?’
Connal’s troubled eyes cast up to see Ash standing before him.
‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ he said. Dropping his gaze, he drank deep from the bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
She wasn’t going away.
‘Neither of us is getting any older, you know,’ Ash sighed, ‘and eternity seems a long time to be walking on eggshells.’
Eyes glued to the floor, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, let alone answer.
‘Am I so repulsive to you?’ she demanded.
Connal felt a sickening tug in his gut. The Morrígan had used those exact words, before she'd forced him ...
‘Is that why you made me cover up? Does the new me disgust you?’ She sounded sad.
‘No. God, Ash,’ fisting what was left of his hair, he dragged his eyes up to hers, ‘I couldn’t stand for them to see you naked. You are beautiful, Ash. The most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on,’ his hands fell limp across his knees ‘and I want to do violent things to any other man who so much as looks at you.'
‘Then why won’t you look at me?’
God, that tremor in her voice was going to break him.
‘I don’t want to admit that you’re better off with
him
.’
‘I don’t want
him
.’
'I've seen you with him, out there,' he said.
'Yes. Because he's the only person willing to talk to me. The rest of them want me dead, and you? Ever since the Temple, you look at me like I'm day-old dogshit on the sole of your shoe.'
‘I’m no good for you, Ash. I have no future. I'm damned, and I won't drag you down with me.’
‘You are not damned Connal.' She dropped down and placed her hands on his knees, appealing to his averted gaze. 'You gave your life for me. You came back for me. I don't know what you had to do to get this ring, to buy my freedom, but I know it cost you.'
Her fingertips tentatively touched his hair.
He shook his head slowly. ‘Those things he told you about me. It’s all true. I have blood on my hands, Ash. So much blood. And there will be more.’
‘You blame yourself. I get that, but you did what you had to do.'
He cradled his head in his hands, scrubbing at his skull. 'I didn't have to bargain with the Morrígan. I didn’t have to bite that girl.’
'So you bit her. Know what?’ Ash said.
He turned his bloodshot eyes to her.
‘I cut her to ribbons in a jealous rage. I kissed your brother in a moment of weakness, and I will regret it for eternity. I almost killed that kid, Tyr. And up there in that freaky attic, I wanted to finish the job. Somehow, I attracted those freaking bird creatures to the contests and they decimated the wolves, ripped their heads off and ate them alive. Hardly surprising they all want me dead, is it?'
Holy shit.
His lids flared. 'I didn't know.'
'I didn't intend it, but that shit happened. I bit you. I coerced you into biting me against your will and it damn near killed the only man I've ever loved. So if you're a monster, what the hell does that make me, Connal?’ With a hitch in her voice, Ash got back to her feet.
‘Are you going to say you don't love me because of the bad things I've done? Tell me. Say it to my face that you don't love me anymore, and I'll walk away.'
Connal looked up to meet the strength burning in her sapphire eyes. He swallowed on a dry throat, aware of each breath that marked the silence when he didn’t answer. After an eternity, his gaze dropped back to the ground, jaw clenched.
'You can't, can you?’ she murmured. ‘Because you do still love me.’
His head snapped back up.
‘You don't get to choose who you love, Big Bad. You can tell me all the awful things you've done in graphic, filthy detail, and it won't change the way I feel about you. Not one iota. You were dragged into this, so was I. You didn’t ask for it. You did what you had to do to survive. There is a wildness in you. I understand that now, because ever since you bit me, I’ve been just a howl and a hairsbreadth from giving in to it myself.’
Ash took a deep breath.
‘So here’s the thing,’ she said. ‘You don't get the luxury of stonewalling me this time, you stubborn, self-sacrificing pain in the ass. I’m prepared to wipe the slate. We’ve both done things we’re not proud of, but we only lose when we stop trying. So get up and try ... just ...'
‘Shut up.’ Connal was on his feet and towering over her.
‘What did you say to me?’
‘You heard me. I said. Shut. Up.’
‘Make me, Big Bad.’
And the Gods help him, but he did.