Rowena's Revenge (Broadus Supernatural Society) (3 page)

“It’s not that you want me talking to you like this; it’s
that you like that I’m soothing her.” His voice is calm and even as I rush back
into the room, the small first aid kit clenched in my hand. The scene before me
makes me pause, my hackles rising and a low growl rumbling through what seems
like my entire body.

He’s got her flipped over on her stomach, her cheek pressed
into the pillow as a pained look covers her face. I would normally jump on her
in a moment like this, her lace panty covered behind on full display, but the
sight of her blood smeared and soaking into the white bed sheet makes my
stomach turn. I hand the stranger the small kit and grab Rowena’s hand, feeling
the cold replacing her normally warm skin.

“I’ll explain everything, but I need to get the bullet out
so she can start to heal.” He gives me a serious look, and I skirt my eyes from
his to her leg, seeing the mangled and irritated flesh. I take a deep breath,
letting the scent of her blood linger on my senses and I close my eyes,
squeezing her hand in mine. My heart aches when she doesn’t react, not even a
little twitch of the fingers. I slip my hold to her wrist to find her pulse.

Slow, but there. It’s a good sign. She’s still fighting.

“You’re gonna have to hold her still for me. Once I dig the
blade in, her body is bound to react.” I’m about to ask him ‘
What blade?
’
when I see him produce a large hunting knife from his waist, flipping the blade
down, aiming it at her skin, and I feel the anxiety rise within me; my wolf
standing at attention and starting to pace, making my skin warm with
anticipation of a shift. I don’t want him to hurt my mate.

“Hold her down, please, Blaine,” he says with a pointed
tone, snapping me from my angry musing, and I lean over Row’s back, pressing my
arm over her shoulder blades. I don’t need to apply much pressure; Rowena is
strong, but not nearly as strong as me, and I let the memory of our wrestling
escapades this morning play through my head.

The stranger’s slight chuckle shatters my little dream, and
I look down the bed at him. “What’s your name?” He’s going to basically operate
on my mate, so I should know his name right?

“Penton.
My name is Penton.” He
gives me a slight, crooked
smile,
and a wave of ease
rolls over me, causing me to smirk back at him. “Now please, if we could? She’s
getting too weak.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, turning my attention back to Row. I run my
free hand through her hair, smoothing it away from the side of her face, and I
see her features relax; the crease between her brows almost disappearing as a
slow purr comes from her throat, making me smile.

“Gonna fix you up, kitten,” I whisper, pressing my lips to
her ear gently. Her spicy, homey scent rolls into my body, invading every cell,
and I just want to wrap myself around her, protecting her from everything and
everyone.

I turn my attention back down to Penton just as he touches
the blade to her skin, and she tenses; the serenity and affection of the second
before gone immediately. I watch as Penton hesitates, taking a deep breath, and
then returns to dig the bullet out, his long fingers pulling the flesh from the
blades path to find the silver causing her all this pain.

I can feel her shaking, trembling, but there is no sound. It
frightens me that she’s silent as the sharp blade cuts through her wound, her
blood dripping out and filling the bunched sheets around her leg. I look back
to her face and see almost all of the color in her skin is gone, replaced by a
ghostly grey, squeezing my heart. There is a thin layer of sweat covering her
forehead and I lean down, kissing her lightly and almost recoiling at the
clammy feel.

“Got it,” Penton says in a quiet triumph, holding up the
smashed metal between his crimson covered fingers. I nod to him, and he tosses
it aside, dropping the knife to produce a long needle from the first aid kit.
“What kind of Inn is this?” he says, giving me a wide eyed look as he holds up
the needle. As we both shrug our shoulders, he pulls a thread free from his
coat and begins to close Row’s wound; the swipes of the needle being sure and
quick.

I lean in, placing my lips on her cheek while brushing the
now sweat matted hair from her face. “You’re okay now,
kitten
.
All patched up.
Now, just rest.”
I keep lightly
stroking her face as I see Penton wrapping her leg in gauze. She’s so still and
silent; it breaks my heart. She should be fighting and writhing in pain,
anything, but nothing. Not even a peep.

“It’ll be more comfortable for her if we leave her bare
under the sheets. Her body should regulate the temperature while healing more
efficiently that way.” He starts to reach up, his fingers looping into the
waist band of her lace panties and the growl that rips out from my chest seems
to vibrate off the walls, my hand shifting into claw and shooting out to stop
his movement.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I pull him to within an inch from my face, and I let my wolf out slightly,
feeling my teeth elongate and my eyes change to the glowing hazel of my
Berserker. This move usually makes fellas like him shit their pants and run off
with their tails between their legs; but this guy, like I said before, is
different and he just smiles at me, giving me a little laugh.

“I am her mate. If you let down those macho guards of yours
you’d see that. I will protect this woman no matter what. Now unhand me, so I
can make her comfortable.” He shakes my hand off as I stand back in shock,
letting my guard down, and realizing he’s right.

What the fuck?
He is Row’s mate, too? Well, doesn’t
this just make a shitty night even worse? This can’t be; Rowena and I are
together and happy; on the run from the law, but happy.

“What if I don’t like the idea of sharing my mate?” I bite
out, taking a step back toward Rowena’s face as he quickly strips her, pulling
the blanket up around her shoulders.

“Listen, Blaine,” he basically spits out my name, his eyes
turning on me being filled with fury and anguish, “I don’t like the idea
either, but it’s what the Fates have given us. This is how we are to be, so we
need to deal. First, we need to see that she heals, and then get the hell out
of here, because whether or not you wanna admit it, there are majorly evil
forces after her and they will stop at nothing to have her.”

“What the fuck do you mean there are forces after her? They
were just hired hit men, working for a vamp down in New York. He doesn’t have
that much
pull,
and he’ll give up once we’re out of
the country.” I take a step back and look out the window. The snow is coming
down harder than it was this morning and the wind is kicking it around, blowing
it up onto the panes, seemingly trying to slap me in the face.

“You just have to trust me,” he says, and I can feel his
eyes on my back, his reflection in the glass of the window showing me that he
is leaning over Row, brushing her hair back and trailing his fingers down her
bare arm.

The sight of it calms me for a second, and before I realize
it I’m settling onto the bed, on the opposite side where Penton is, and
snuggling up to Rowena. His stare finds me as I lean over her and kiss her
hair, laying back down with my nose pressed up against her shoulder and my body
curled around hers. I close my eyes, but can hear him shed what I’m guessing is
his jacket and boots, the material hitting the floor before the bed dips and
another level of heat flows over Row to me, the scent of apricots ripened in
the sun making my mouth water.

Shaking the smell of fruit from my senses, I wrap my arm
over her back, only to feel his do the same, but I’m strangely not bothered by
it. It feels right for some reason; my wolf even gives into it and curls up
into a ball, tucking his nose into his hind leg and wrapping his tail over his
eyes.

Maybe this won’t be so bad?

The thought of something powerful wanting my Row, wanting my
mate, makes me want to howl to the heavens. They’ll have to get through me
first, and I don’t plan on going down without a fight.

Rowena

December 25, 2016

The sunshine hurts my eyes as I come to, surrounded by tall
grass with the sound of neighing ponies in the distance meeting my ears.
Sitting up, I have no idea where I am, the hilly landscape and mountains a very
unfamiliar backdrop to me. The sun is wonderful, though, and I turn my face up
to soak it in, holding my arms up over my head in a stretch.

The fresh air swirls lightly around me in a breeze, bringing
the scents of fresh grass and wild flowers to my attention, making a smile fill
my lips. The untouched wild has always made me happy, ever since being pushed
out of that town when my mother died. I had lived in the shadows, tagging along
with a group of gypsies I ran into down in Louisiana, never staying in one
place long enough to get attached to anyone.

When you get attached, you get hurt. I’ve already dealt with
that in my life and finding out Blaine is my mate makes those old feelings come
to the surface all over again. I feel as if he’ll eventually leave me, or die,
and when he does I’m afraid I’m shrivel up and die, my heart not being strong
enough to stand the loss.

“Don’t worry, Lass,” a strong, deep, Scottish voice scares
me from my musing and my eyes shoot open, searching for the source. A tall,
broad, black and silver haired man stands in front of me on the downward slope
of the slight hill I’m sitting on, a happy grin displayed on his face framing
white-blue eyes.

Eyes just like mine, and the stranger, Penton, who saved me.
Where is he by the way?
I look around me, only to return my stare to the
man before me. I can see the slight wrinkles around his eyes as he smiles
again, running his hand back through his hair letting the split colors fall
back into place.

“Don’t worry about what?” I ask in a nervous laugh, quickly
getting to my feet and finally noticing that I’m in a dress, which I never
wear. I grab the material in my hands, looking at it unbelieving and mutter,
“What the fuck?” under my breath, getting a chuckle to rumble from the stranger
before me.

“Don’t worry about your mates, Lass; they’ll take care of
themselves and you. You have to trust in their love for you.” He turns toward
the meadow below, only to reach out his hand, offering it to me and nodding for
me to come to him.

“Mates?
As in
plural?
What the hell are you talking about, and who the hell are you
anyway?” I move to my left as the man’s eyes stay with mine, the smile never
leaving his lips. He waves for me to come to him once more, and when I don’t
move, he laughs lightly.

“Walk with me, girl, and I’ll tell you all you need to
know.”

I’ve never been one to follow orders, but why does it seem
like my body, my mind, and even my leopard want me to go with this man? I can
feel the power emanating off of him, my ever present flames deep within,
turning to a cool blue rather than the hot orange I usually have around
strangers. I watch him watch me, his eyes never leaving mine as I hesitantly
step toward him, my hand at my side with my skin itching to make the simple
contact of his.

I don’t reach out and take his hand. I come up beside him,
still at least ten feet away, and he lowers his with a nod, turning to face the
meadow below. I can hear him take a deep breath in, the neighing of the ponies
coming closer, and I see a bunch of them chasing each other around a bend and
into view before us. I can see from the corner of my eyes as a grin picks up
the corner of his mouth again, and I can’t help but match it. A sense of safety
and love falls over me as he takes a step down, turning and calling for me
silently with a nod of his head.

“My name is Shamus,” he says as his voice seems to flow back
on the breeze, wrapping around me and hugging me tight, silently telling me
that I am safe and wanted. I’ve never really felt that way, and I shake it off,
not knowing how to take it. I see him peer at me over his shoulder and I turn
my eyes to the grass, guilt and shame filling my veins for a second before my
defensive and angry self takes over again.

“And what the hell do you have to do with me?” I stop,
letting him get ahead of me before he turns to face me once more, that damn
grin still on his lips.
What the hell is so funny?
I think, and he
laughs out loud at me, spiking my anger and turning the cool blue flame within
to the familiar hot orange; my skin is tingling and the hair is standing up
because of the spike.

I can see the glow start to emanate from my arms and feet,
the grass around me smoking from the ember heat. I just know the way my eyes
look right now, the flames edging out and around them, framing my face as my
hair does in the breeze. It’s frightening sometimes, even to me.

“You need to learn to control your anger, Rowena,” he
chides, raising his eyebrow at me and my flames extinguish immediately, even as
I try to re-stoke them. They flicker, but something more powerful fights
against it, and as I strain and struggle, I let out a frustrated grunt and look
this Shamus in the eye, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You know who I am,” he says, turning and continuing on his
path, leaving me behind.

Well don’t ya think if I did, I wouldn’t have asked?
I think to myself, throwing my hands up in the air out of aggravation as he
keeps walking. I take the second and look around me, taking in the serene
landscape once more.

The mountains are all around me with a group of grey clouds
gathered at the tops of the peaks to the north, signaling a thunderstorm is
coming. The horses are still chasing each other, running through a herd of wild
sheep and scattering the group. Up above me a hawk circles, calling out in a
high pitched shrill, announcing to all the beings around that he is watching.

“Better hurry up, Lass. Don’t want to be out here when the
rain comes.” I turn my stare back to Shamus, and see that he is much farther in
front of me than I would have guessed.
Do I go with him, or do I try and
find my way back?

“There is no going back, Lass. You’re dreaming. You can only
wake up when we want you to wake up,” he laughs, waving for me to follow him
and turning back to his path.

“Well, hell,” I mutter under my breath and grab at the skirt
of my dress, picking it free from my feet so I can run somewhat normally
without fear of tripping and falling on my face.

I head in his direction at a slow pace, but as I seem to get
closer I see him look over his shoulder, smile, and take off running, leaving
me in the dust. So I pick up speed, letting my leopard out just a little to
take advantage of her speed. I can hear his laugh on the wind—that bastard—and
I let my anger fuel my drive, my flames sparking to life again and giving me a
burst of speed. I can feel the heat creeping over my arms as I start to catch
up, Shamus leading me around a high hill and into a valley. Horses sweep down
off of the hill and join us, a spirited young Filly running to my left hand
side as a beautiful black Mustang takes up the right.

My flames start to burn slight holes through the white sundress
I’m in as I follow Shamus into yet another valley, noticing a large carved out
doorway in front of us. Shamus disappears into the stone, and the horses split
off, continuing their run up and around the door as I surge full speed ahead,
not really thinking about what I might be walking into.

Hitting the smooth floor, I skid to a stop, taking in my
surroundings as I try and reign in the fire and my breathing. The light colored
limestone reflects the bright orange of my flames, and I quickly try to tamp
them down from running wild as I spot Shamus standing before me at what looks
like a throne. There is a woman sitting on the throne, looking at me, a sense
of wonder flowing out to me and making me feel calm, beckoning me to her.

“Come forward, child.” Her sweet, melodic voice sweeps out
and over the space between us, pulling at every fiber within me and my feet act
on
their own,
seeming to float over the smooth surface
toward her. I have never been pulled toward someone like this; not even when I
found Blaine. This is different; it’s a feeling of belonging and of family,
taking over every ounce of anger that flows within me.

“Who…Who are you?” I barely get out, finding it hard to
speak as the rays of sunshine pick up and illuminate the woman before me. She
is magnificent; dainty, yet strong looking with long, floor length orange-red
hair,
her
white-blue eyes smiling at me as she reaches
out for my hand. I’m suddenly full of fear that I am unworthy of her, and I
recoil, stepping back out of the sun.

“Oh, child,” she smiles, standing from her throne and coming
to be only inches from me in a flash of blinding sun. “You have nothing to
fear. We are all family here.”

“What?” I say with every ounce of rejection I can muster
.
I have no family. No mother. No father.
No one.

“Not true, Lass,” Shamus breaks in, and I give him a nasty
look, letting the flames burn to life slightly so that they hover over my skin.
He shakes his head, reaching out and grabbing my hand before I can move, and his
touch douses the flames, and I’m left feeling as if I’ve been sprayed with
freezing water. “I am your Da.”

What.
The.
Fuck is going on
here?
I think, as my jaw goes slack and my eyes stare blankly ahead at this
man that is telling me he is my father. My mother had always told me, between
the liquor fueled rants and tear filled breakdowns, that my father was a no
good drifter who had wooed her, and then left her when she was eight months
pregnant. She always blamed my weird appearance for her strikeouts in the love
department, but that’s another drawer filled with skeletons in my closet that I
refuse to re-open.

The woman’s hand sweeps out and grasps mine, sending a wave
of warmth through my entire body, bringing my stare to her bright and smiling
face. Her fingers come up to lightly brush my cheek, and the anger inside of me
disappears, replaced by something I’ve never felt before; the feeling of being
unconditionally loved.

“Rowena, your time with us is short. Please listen closely.”
She leans in and kisses me on the cheek, sending a ripple of goose-bumps over
my skin as she turns and seems to float back up onto the sun bathed dais.
Sitting, she looks down on me with a sweet expression, a voice in my head,
telling me to take everything she says seriously.

“We are your family, and Shamus is indeed your Da.” She nods
to him and he smiles at me again, crossing his massive arms over his broad,
defined chest. “My name is Siobhan, and I am the Queen of the Fae.”

“And I am Kade,” the strong, deep voice vibrates from behind
me, shocking me as it feels like a million tiny lightning bolts flow up from
the floor and into my body. He is an almost statuesque looking man; his strong
features chiseled and defined by his perfect skin and white blue eyes that are
locked on me as he approaches. He stops only a foot or two from my frozen
frame, and his smile lights up the space around me, his laugh making me smile
as he joins the woman on the dais. “I am King of the Fae, and Siobhan is my
wife.”

I subconsciously curtsy to them, and then, realizing what I
just did, I shake my shoulders loose and retake my indifferent stature, looking
back to Siobhan as she lightly clears her throat. I see her hand cover Kade’s
on his arm rest, and I can’t help but smile, the look of love that passes
between the two warming my heart instantly.

I want that. I want that kind of love that even when just my
hand is touching his, we know. I want the kind of love that when he looks at me
across a crowded room, he makes me feel as if I’m the only one there; the only
one for him. Can I have that with Blaine?
Maybe with Penton,
too?

“Please, Rowena, just listen to your mates. They have your
best intentions at heart, and whether or not you want to admit it, you do have
deeper feelings for them.” I scrunch my nose and shake my head, trying to deny
the flames of desire that ignite every time I’m around Blaine, or when Penton
saved me last night. “Don’t deny it dear, it will only cause you strife if you
delay what fate has set out for you.
A word of advice before
you go
?”

“Before I go? Where am I going?” I feel like they are
tossing me out, and I’m suddenly scared, just like I was when I was younger and
alone. The darkness of solitude starts to filter into my heart, and I can feel
the flames ignite all over my skin and spark at my fingers, the material of the
sundress crackling in the heat.

I can see all three of their brows furrow and feel the wave
of concern flow over me as I feel the flames spread up and through my mind, the
thin wispy tendrils of heat, orange, and blue flowing from my eyes. I don’t
want their worry. I don’t want their pity, and my anger, frustration, and hate
takes over, causing my inner fire to explode; disintegrating my sundress and
leaving me bare.

“Learn to control your anger, Lass,” Shamus chides, and I
turn my inferno of a stare on him. He just shakes his head, dismissing me to
look back to Siobhan.

“Dear,” her voice pulls me back to her, and my heart can’t
help but calm as her look bathes me in caring and love. “To rightfully claim your
mates and keep the dark from your life, you must look beyond the magic; look
beyond the wolf and see the man. See who they really are and know that their
love lies deep enough to break every wall you’ve ever put up. Their hearts will
stop at nothing to show you love.”

Siobhan’s voice starts to fade, and as I look down at my
feet, I see that I’m floating backward away from them. I try and pull away from
the invisible force pulling me back, but it holds me fast, picking up speed as
I see her stand and wave.