The Wolven (Page 36)
“Sometimes a woman just has to do what she has to do in order to survive in a man’s world,” Kara said. “You of all people should know that, Shauna MacDonald—Keeper of the weres.” She let out a sarcastic laugh. “Keeper, you can’t even keep your legs closed. You’re out there whoring around with a were, tainting the breed. Then you have the nerve to go around acting like you’re going to save us all? Oh, I think not.”
“Now who’s highbrow talking?” Gris Gris asked. “Tell your boy to go on about his business. Dip his wick and get it over with, so I can have my turn.”
“My turn now—mine,” Banjo said, and wiggled against Shauna again.
Kara laughed and stood up, placed the vial right in front of Shauna’s face so she could see it. A fine brown powder that looked like it had glitter mixed in with it was packed inside the vial.
“You see, the mistake a lot of women make, the mistake you made, MacDonald, is thinking a woman’s power is between her legs. It’s not. It’s right here in this vial, and I own it. Granted, it was easier for me to get the information I needed to make this happen by appreciating what power I do have between my legs. That’s how I discovered this little secret. An old, horny, blabbering idiot from the council was more than happy to spill his guts for a chance to dip into my honey pot. Sadly, the council got rid of him, because they caught him stealing something or other, but that’s okay. I got what I needed and didn’t really have a use for him anymore. Now everything belongs to me.”
“Simone is getting anxious, Kara,” Gris Gris said. “Let’s get this over with. I want my turn before we have to dispose of her. Too bad, too. Good-looking girl like that. Can’t help it now, though. You and that stupid kid spilling your guts the way you did. Somebody needs to staple both of your fat mouths shut. Now get on with it, boy, or I’ll get me a piece of you instead.”
Shauna caught a glimpse of Gris Gris petting Simone. And his other hand was petting his groin.
Oh, God—God!
She knew how this would end. How it all was going to play out. Banjo would get his turn at her while Gris Gris watched. Once Banjo was done, the fat man would take his turn. When both were done, Kara would finish her off, kill her if for no other purpose than to make sure she stayed silent—forever.
Giving one more hard thrust with her tongue, the rag suddenly popped out of Shauna’s mouth, and she opened her mouth wide to scream. No matter where she was, no matter how far away this place was from anything else, she had to try.
Shauna drew in a quick, deep breath and forced it out to give the scream volume. But a scream didn’t come out of her mouth. Instead, it was a loud, off-pitch howl—the sound of a wolven calling for help. It was long and loud and vibrated from her—from the very center of her. She thought of the way she growled and made other animal noises when she and Danyon made love.
Then she understood.
This howl was her call to him, an acknowledgment of the love she had for Danyon and that she knew that love to be endless, timeless. This was her soul calling out to its mate—crying out for him—
One last time. “Woooah!” Banjo yelled, and Shauna felt him back away from her. “Shut her up—shut her. Kara, make her stop. Voodoo man, put the hoodoo on her—put it on, like you do with the weres. You gotta—she sound like one—sound it. Shut her up—shut up!”
While Banjo, Kara and Gris Gris yelled at one another, Shauna forced the last bit of air out of her lungs, squeezing the last sound out of her raw vocal chords. It wasn’t much, and what little she had she was losing quickly, but it was enough to keep Banjo freaked out.
“Just hurry up, you stupid weasel,” Gris Gris yelled.
“If you are so anxious for it, old man, why don’t you go first?” Kara asked.
“Just do it, boy. Finish what you started. Go on, finish it up.”
“I can’t, can’t—can’t. You hear her? She sound like them—can’t. Do your hoodoo—make her stop!”
“For heaven’s sake, old man, just go over there and get your stuff. The boy ain’t gonna do it.”
“You know I can’t do anything unless I watch first,” Gris Gris said. “You know the drill.”
“Hold up—hold up!” Banjo exclaimed. His voice two octaves higher and excited. “Got it back—I—got it back.
It’s all good—good to go. Looka here—rocky solid—good. Gonna get me some—get some! Rock solid, good to go! Gonna get some—gonna get some!”
Shauna tried desperately to make a sound—scream, a howl, anything. All she managed was the weakest of howls, so low she could barely make it out.
“Now, look here at what she did! I can’t now—shut her up, Kara. Shut her—shut! It’s no good no more—all gone. Shut up—you, shut up!”
Shauna suddenly felt a slap on the back of her thigh. She twisted, bucked, wiggled. Her voice might have been gone, but whatever energy she had left, she planned to wring it dry.
“Stop your jabber-talking,” Kara shouted at Banjo. “It drives me up a goddamn wall! You wanna stop the bitch from making noise—this is how you do it.”
Shauna saw black hair, a plaid shirt—a cocked fist up in the air. Kara let out a long, low growl, and Shauna squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the punch, praying it would be hard enough to knock her out.
A sudden crash and the sound of shattering glass pried Shauna’s eyes open wide. In that moment, she caught a flash of something huge racing toward them, a second later it sprang into full view.
It was a massive, mahogany-brown wolven, teeth bared, his eyes locked on Banjo. Shauna’s heart triple-timed in her chest and thundered in her ears. The wolven was Danyon, she knew it as sure as she knew her own name.
Then, as quickly as the wolven appeared he vanished, his mass flying by her, then out of sight. She heard a growl loud enough to wake the dead, and a heartbeat later came a long shrill, then the ripping and tearing of flesh.
Shauna squeezed her eyes shut against the sounds, wanting to tap into that small light in the center of her mind—her peaceful place.
But there were too many screams—too many shrill, tortured, horrific screams.
Then Kara yelling—Gris Gris shouting back—more tearing and shredding of flesh. Crashing, thudding, feet racing over concrete…silence.
It felt like hours had gone when Shauna suddenly felt hands around her ankles. She jumped, startled, and tried to scream. All that came out was a raspy whisper. Then she heard the most beautiful sound—Danyon’s voice.
“Shh, it’s okay now. It’s me, Shauna, it’s me.”
The next thing she knew she was cradled in Danyon’s arms. She wept as he held her close, rocking her as he would a troubled child. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her wet cheeks.
Danyon had never known anger as he did when he saw Banjo standing behind Shauna, naked from the waist down and ready to enter her, to defile her. And the sneer on Gris Gris’ face… And Kara Matiste. He had known she was odd, that there was something very different about her, but he never would have suspected this.
When he had seen them all together, he wished with his entire heart he could have been in three places at one time. But it wasn’t possible, so he’d had to pick one. Banjo was the greatest threat, so he became Danyon’s primary target. He made sure Banjo understood suffering, when he’d torn through his chest, his arms, his groin, making him feel every ounce of pain to the fullest before he ripped his throat out and watched him drown in his own blood.
By that time, Kara and Gris Gris were no longer in the warehouse, having scampered away like rats. But they were of little concern to him right now. They’d be found soon enough. His priority now was Shauna.
She curled into him closer, held on to him tight. “How…how did you find me?” she asked, her voice shaky and hoarse.
“It was easy,” he said. “You called for me.”
She lay silent for a moment, then nodded and closed her eyes.
Danyon smoothed the hair from her brow. She had indeed called to him. Like an alpha female calling for her mate. It was then that Danyon knew without any doubt that Shauna not only understood his true nature, she was part of it. She knew him. She may have been human, but she was still part of his true nature. She knew him in ways he could have only hoped for.
He tightened his arms around her, feeling such a swell in his chest and heart that there was no denying the power of the love he had for her. He couldn’t ignore it any longer, Shauna was his mate—his alpha.
Chapter 21
St. Louis Cathedral was the perfect location to hold the wedding of the year.
The colossal, three-steepled basilica was a masterful confluence of Spanish Colonial and Renaissance architecture. Its high rococo-gilded altar included columns with busy entablature. Two rows of wooden columns divided the church into center and side aisles with a view of the gallery. Its massive organ towered at least fifty feet above the choir loft, and its pipes ranged from a few inches to over thirty feet in height.
It was in this aged splendor, under a massive stretch of sculptured, hand-painted ceiling that Father Antoine’s voice echoed when he said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The cathedral erupted with cheers and applause so loud Shauna expected the thousands of pieces of multi-colored stained glass to shatter. Even if they had, she doubted anyone would notice. Vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, and humans; all of them laughing and cheering, so happy for the new couple.
Outside, a twelve-piece, brass band was already playing the traditional rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Saxophones, trombones, tubas and trumpets, along with bass and snare drums were warming up for the second line wedding march, which would take dancing celebrants all the way down to Decatur Street.
Shauna couldn’t help but tear up at the sight of so many different races with various skin colors, faiths and beliefs, all celebrating as one. It made her overwhelmingly happy.