Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures (8 page)

Her lip trembled as she closed her eyes, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

A wry, sad smile curved his lips. “In Drestovia, we have a saying: When the fish have fled, why rock the boat for a mouthful of seawater?”

Kaila understood the analogy in his words and backed down, albeit grudgingly. Trying for a lighter vein, she quipped, “Allowing Pavel to play top dog is fine for this situation, but I know there must be other times when an Alpha’s commands don’t dovetail with a person’s desires. Somebody needs to bring the packs into the 21st century.”

Thankfully, Karel went along with the change of topic. He smiled, the stern expression in his eyes softening. “Agreed, and restructuring of our society would be a worthy goal to attempt once you’ve cemented your position as pack Prima.” He bowed his head, and gave her a respectful salute. His eyes held barely concealed amusement. “I would very much like to witness your efforts in that undertaking, along with my Alpha’s response.”

“You make it sound like it would be World War III.”

“Perhaps not full scale war, but definitely a battle.”

“You think Pavel would object that strongly?”

Karel snorted derisively, bared his teeth in a fierce grin. “Mr. Kaila? I think not. I speak of the Elders. The older ones, especially the males of the pack, are who will strenuously object to such an agenda. To say they are hidebound is an understatement.”

Kaila muttered something about the stubborn mindset of males, no matter what the flavor: wulf or man. She hadn’t lived with her father and brothers for years, but she remembered how maggoty-brained they could be.

“What in hell am I getting myself into?” Among the wulves, she’d heard, males outnumbered females more than seven to one. Just thinking about what her life would be like, surrounded by that many testosterone-fueled attitudes, had her reevaluating her commitment to stand by Pavel’s side as his Prima.

Karel glanced about, eyes darting to every corner of the landscape. “We dally here, and my instincts are jumping edgily. I don’t like the idea of being out in the open with no other guards available to ensure your safety. Please” -- he gestured with one hand, urging her toward the complex -- “let us move on. Oh, and do not doubt the eventual outcome. I am sure you will triumph. You already have Pavel eating out of your hands.”

Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures

43

Kaila swept past him, muttering, “He’s constantly eating out something, all right…but it ain’t my hands!”

Her low-voiced retort shocked rough laughter out of him. The harder he tried to restrain himself, the harder he laughed. “Prince Rickard is rubbing off on you. You never would have said something like that before you came here.”

“God, I am so embarrassed!” She had spoken sotto voce, not meaning him to hear her risqué remark, forgetting how well these damned wulves could hear. Kaila bit her lip, wanting to sink through the ground.

“There is no need, Prima. You will grow accustomed to our ways. Mated pairs mate…it is the most natural, beautiful expression of love, not to be hidden away as if it is shameful.”

Her chagrined expression accompanied by the flush of hot color bathing her cheeks and neck, had him trying to smother his helpless guffaws. “The Alpha’s scent is all over you. It is obvious what…”

She covered her hot face. “Please…spare me knowing everyone is aware of whenever my boyfriend nails me!”

Karel didn’t look like the thought made him too happy, either, though he quickly schooled his features to blandness when he caught her looking back at him. “Well enough, let’s return to how happy we are to see each other again, but for the unfortunate circumstances,” he said, obediently changing the subject in response to her wishes. “I’m thankful the rogue did not target you for his murder victim. When we heard about what had happened, I couldn’t sleep for worrying about you.”

Kaila was thankful for his attempt to minimize her awkward moment, though his new choice of topic wasn’t any better, to her way of thinking. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the recent tragedy and how it was still playing out. “You shouldn’t have worried.

The killer wouldn’t be interested in killing me, would he?” She asked the question rhetorically, not really expecting him to respond.

“Whoever he is, he’s not sane. There’s no telling what he might do.”

Kaila thought about it, shook her head no. “I just can’t see it, Karel. I’ve heard the talk.

I’m a breed, so sure, he would rape me if he got the chance, but this creep is all into the hunt and kill. He needs humans for that. Eating me would make him a cannibal.”

The big wulf gazed up at the sky as if asking for help and then back down at her, the expression in his light brown eyes intent. “I see holes in your logic. The first major hole is expecting this killer to be able to reason along logical lines. The rogue could choose to kill you simply to punish the Alpha, hurt him for getting in the way. He knows the value Pavel places on you.

“Second, while you are indeed a breed, you are still human. This rogue might see you as such and act accordingly. He is most likely a member of the anarchist sect among us. This group believes our race is superior to humans. Their members deem it a wulf’s Goddess-given right to hunt and eat humans at will.”

44 Camille Anthony

Karel’s words, delivered in that damnably calm, reasonable voice of his, shocked Kaila.

From out of nowhere, anger boiled up and over and she stopped walking, turned to confront him, hands crossed over her chest. “How can you make it sound so textbook psychology reasonable, when you know it’s anything but? It’s not reasonable. This entire situation is insanely horrible and ugly and disgusting and brutal!”

She ran out of breath before she ran out of words. Chest heaving, she stared up at him, aghast at her unusually emotional outburst but unable to control the sheer rage seething within.

Karel, his facial expression remaining stoic, listened to her without interrupting. Her anger seemed to flow over him, as ineffectual as river water flowing over an ancient moss-covered rock. Mute, he gazed down at her, all the softness of his warm feelings for her evident in his patient face. “Yes, my Prima, unsanctioned killing is all of that and more. And it is especially hard when the ugliness strikes close to us.”

“Unsanctioned killing…?”

Bingo! Her anger found an out, and she wasted no time jumping through it. Eyes narrowed, she turned on him. “As in…there are times when it’s all right for you wulves to eat us?”

“See how you use the words ‘us’ and ‘you’ in order to separate us by species. How can you expect me to answer when anything I say, you will use against me? Any response I give will only inflame you further.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly, his sorrowful gaze almost making her ashamed. “No, Prima, I will not be your target to rail at.”

Kaila bit back another spate of angry words, wanting to scream and rage, to make someone take the blame for what had happened. Her body shook -- still filled with so much fury she had to clench her hands against the desire to hit something, to hit Karel, make him ache as much as she did. As soon as she thought the last, she became terrified. Her explosive reactions, the fierce emotions raging within her right now, felt alien, totally unlike her. “I’m so sorry, Karel,” she muttered, turning up her face to him, letting him see her remorse. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Karel gave a terse nod, his craggy face soft with sympathy. “I suspect the anger and frustration is Pavel’s, not your own. As your bond strengthens, the two of you will share more than emotions. He will become a shadow in your mind as you are in his, always aware of each other’s thoughts and feelings.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about Pavel having access to the things lurking in her head. Even if what Karel suggested were true, she refused to hide behind someone else, would not justify her rude and hurtful words with that lame excuse. “I don’t care whose anger I’m channeling, I had no right to take my frustration out on you. Just because a wulf committed this atrocity and you’re a wulf, conveniently here, doesn’t mean I have the right to turn you into an available whipping boy.”

Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures

45

“As the Prima of my pack you have every right over me. I would bare my back and give you a whip if it would make you feel better.” His quiet words rang with gruff sincerity.

That feudal mentality of his had her anger boiling in another direction. “I would never take advantage of my position like that…and don’t argue with me,” she added, holding up a hand when Karel opened his mouth to speak.

“What I did wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have said what I did…not in that tone, anyway. I apologize and it won’t happen again.”

Karel nodded, saying no more. He resumed walking at her heels, silent for the rest of the short walk.

* * * * *

She looked so sad, so forlorn. Karel didn’t know what to say, how to cheer her, so he said nothing, merely walked by her, there for her should she need any service of him. She didn’t glance up -- kept her eyes trained on the ground as if she had to measure every step, guard the placement of her feet. His heart ached for her.

Karel missed the earlier camaraderie they’d shared, the easy way they had joked and teased with each other back in the States. Pavel’s stance had been clear, though. He could keep his emotional distance or accept exile away from the pack, never allowed in her vicinity.

He was a pragmatic wulf and the choice was easy. Better this painful compromise where at least he remained close, able to watch over her, than the alternative. He could nurse his broken heart better up close and perhaps, if the Mother were kind, he’d one day find a breed of his own to replace her in his affections. He was just thankful to be here, able to render her service. He’d meant what he said, earlier. If she wanted a whipping boy, he’d lend his body with gladness.

Meanwhile, Kaila had slowed again, steps lagging more as they neared the main complex. Karel tugged the handles of the ornate double entry doors, clearing the way for her to enter.

With obvious reluctance, she stepped over the threshold, glancing about the empty foyer. “Wonder where everyone is?”

“It is past breakfast time, I know, but they are probably still in the cafeteria. Pavel cancelled all treatments today.”

The corridor to the dining room stretched before them, and again Kaila’s steps dragged as they neared the second entry. Karel reached forward to open the door.

“Wait. Please…”

He let his arm drop and turned toward her, one brow raised in question.

46 Camille Anthony

“I don’t want to go in there.” Worrying her bottom lip, fighting tears, Kaila glared up at him. From the look on her face, she still fumed over the injustice, the unfairness of the victim’s fate.

Heaving a deep sigh, he glanced about, making sure they were alone before leaning down to brush at the tears escaping her crumbling control. “You could not have known her that well, drou -- my Prima. Why does her death tear at you so? Tell me what truly troubles you.”

“It’s true I hadn’t known her long, but she was becoming a friend. Anita wasn’t the least bit stuck up, even though she had loads of money. She made a point to be nice to me.

Ever since the first day of the program, we sort of drifted together, often laughing at the other women’s attitudes, making a joke of mimicking them. We had nicknames for all of them.” Kaila sniffed, grabbed a tissue from her skirt pocket and dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose.

“For any of the clients to die would have come as a shock, but the brutal murder of that gentle woman hit me hard. This is why I dread going to that dining room. I don’t think I can bear listening to the other women rehash the events leading up to Anita’s death.”

“You are grieving. Don’t you think the other women feel as you do?”

Kaila tossed him a fulminating, underbrowed glance. “Several of them didn’t like her.

They were always taunting her for speaking with me, being friendly with me. We couldn’t stand them with their petty, vicious high society standards and prejudices.”

Karel stared down at her, jaw clenched in sympathy. “Do you really believe the other clients are hardhearted enough to feel nothing?” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “If you ask me, I think they might be hurting more. After all, they might be suffering from guilt.

They mocked her, made fun of her, and now she is dead. They cannot ask her forgiveness for their cruelty.” He slanted a brow. “Who is more in need of comfort?”

Kaila blinked, looking thoughtful. “I never thought of that. If they feel half as bad as I do…” She kept her head averted, but he caught the shamed expression she tried to hide.

“I’m mortified to admit I stood by while a client got in trouble. Afterward, I’d have taken her punishment if I could have. I felt horrible, but at least I was able to apologize.” She looked up at Karel, eyes filled with tears of compassion. “Poor things, I bet they’re miserable.

Well, my father is always saying there’s nothing like helping others to take your mind off your own pain.” She straightened her shoulders and attempted a halfhearted grin. “C’mon Karel, I’m ready to go in now.”

Karel straightened and gave her his most formal bow before holding open the door. “I think he might be right. Your courage honors your father’s teachings. Our pack is blessed in you, Prima.”

With a murmur of thanks, she took a deep, bracing breath, slipped under his arm, and entered the room.

Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures

47

Just as they’d imagined, all fourteen clients were sitting huddled together at one table, their wan faces blotchy with tears. The sad little group tugged at his heartstrings. Moved by pity, he bent his head and in a low whisper meant only for Kaila’s ears said, “A suggestion: these women are like lost sheep, much in need of your direction. Why not make them your crusade for now?”

48 Camille Anthony

First Contact

With a weary sigh and a languid stretch of stiff muscles, Indigo made her way out of the dim interior of the plane. The early morning sun bathed the land in radiance bright enough to blind her sensitive eyes. Enthralled with the view, Indigo fumbled for a pair of sunglasses, sliding them on as she disembarked by way of the portable staircase the ground crew had rolled into place upon their landing. Drawn toward the verdant jungle stretching in an emerald green panorama beyond the sparse landing strip, she gasped in awe at the pristine beauty surrounding her.