Tuesday Tales – Ride – The Wolf

by | Jun 22, 2014 | Books, The Tribe, Tuesday Tales, Writing

VelliWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is to be inspired by the word Father.

I’m sticking with the next installment of The Tribe series – The Wolf again this week. 

To set up the scene ever so briefly without revealing too much, Velli and Kane are on their way back to the one place Velli never wanted to return – the reservation where she faced a painful and severe punishment because she fell in love…with Kane. They have to go, because something is there that they must find.

Along the way, Velli spots another spot. The one place where her life changed forever:

Instead of driving straight through, Kane behaved like a normal human. They stopped often on their ride for breaks and spent the night in hotels. Even in their need to get to their daughter he’d been considerate of her still healing body, and the wounded soul being ripped back open with every mile closer to what had been her home for so long.

For that she was grateful, even if it somehow made it both worse and better at the same time. With her Wolf back her own pains were intensified by Tala’s still broken spirit. Of course, there was the anger and the knowledge that the people so cruel to one of their own, the ones that hadn’t recognized Velli’s pain, they were the ones raising her child.

Kane mostly left her alone in her quiet to absorb every mile marker of impact, every memory that rushed forward to remind her of what they drew closer to. Rationally she knew her mind exaggerated the horrors of her youth to make peace with the terror and pain of her final days there.

In truth, beyond the depth of fear and sorrow was a note of peace. Returning to the home she’d known so long brought a sense of relief. Her mother. The lands filled with magic. The familiar forests and lakes that filled her few peaceful dreams.

Kane’s hand brushed her leg again as it had periodically throughout their drive. The gesture offered an occasional comfort and offer of support she’d been free to reject.

This time she grabbed his hand and straightened. “Stop.” The squeak in her voice embarrassed her. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d spoken.

The truck stopped short and they both jerked forward with the force of the sudden stop. His thumb brushed the back of her hand when she lingered in silence. “Vels? What is it?”

“That’s it.” Her heart raced so fast she worried it might burst. The skeleton of the silo’s roof hovered above the tree line, broken and rotted with the age of the past ten years. Last time she’d been there the roof had been whole, where bats collected in a writhing nest.

A seatbelt clicked and his warmth covered her against the sudden chill coursing through her.

More than anything she wanted to turn into his warmth and go away, push away the memory once again as she always did. Instead she shoved open the door at the same time as she undid her seat belt. Ignoring his yell to wait, she took off running.

Toward the place that started her pain.

If she was going to face the pain of returning home, first she had to face this place. Where everything started. She didn’t know if it would help, and it probably wouldn’t, but she had to prove she was strong enough.

Turned out she wasn’t.

Ten yards away she stopped, gasping at the impact of a memory.

“Poke Pocahontas!” Childish stupid laughter echoed through the dark enclosure. Another painful attack made her sore body jerk in protest. The laughter annoyed the bats still lounging and they swooped in her face and hair as the boys pinned her to the wall.

“Velli.” Kane shook her hard. “Velli. Look at me, baby.”

She hadn’t even realized she was crying until the pad of his thumb brushed a tear away. His lips took care of another. “I can’t even face this. How can I go back?”

“Because you aren’t alone. You tried to do this alone. I’m here now.”

“I always thought I was so strong. I’m not. I’m just a hell of an actress.”

“And so modest, too.”

The laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. A weak laugh that was muffled by his chest along with her words, “Big oaf.”

“I know.” He pushed her back by her shoulders until he could press his forehead to hers. The steady strength of his touch helped ease her trembling. “And just for the record, I think you’re more than strong. You’re invincible.”

“Kane.” She sighed and grasped his cheeks in her hands. “Gushing doesn’t look good on you.”

“I don’t gush.” He spun her around and smacked her ass. “Now get moving.”

Reassured by his presence, she did just that. Any time she faltered his strong hand rested on her shoulder to help. Before she could truly contemplate running in the other direction they were standing in the door.

“What a shit hole.”

“It had a roof. Back then.” She wrapped her fingers around the cold rusted metal of the door and pulled it open. The grating squeak of the hinges sent Tala shivering and she felt a similar shudder from Kane. At the moment, Tala wasn’t cowering—after all it wasn’t her fears now. It was Velli’s.

“Looks like it’s still a hangout.” Kane’s bitter tone echoed through the small space. Funny, it had seemed so much bigger a decade ago. “I can smell it all. You said you kill the ones that raped you?”

“They were the first people I ever killed.” Velli ran her hand along the concrete blocks of the walls until the cold seeped into her fingertips. The icy chill seeped through to her heart until the rapid beat slowed to almost a stop. “I did it before I left Canada. There was a horrible accident. They were drinking and died in a car wreck. Drowned in the lake. Tragic.”

“Too good a death for them.”

She smiled, not the least bit bothered about finding humor in their deaths. Vengeance may not be right in most cases, but it had been necessary for her. “They didn’t die slow. I got to watch the light face from their eyes as I drowned them. I poured beer down their throats as they struggled just as they had done to me.”

“Seems they passed on their tips and tricks. This place reeks of sex, drugs, and alcohol.”

Even without the senses of her Wolf she could smell everything. The silo itself was saturated with the sickening scents of her memory.

Everywhere she turned images rushed forward. The screams of her own memory filled her head, the scents of the past and present consuming her nose. Her body tensed for another scream she didn’t want to release for anything.

Then Kane was at her side. Maybe instinct guided him, but he didn’t touch her. Instead a low growl rumbled through the cramped space, not loud, but enough to cut through the screams in her head. The warmth of his body lingered close. “You’re not alone.”

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Father – The Wolf

by | Jun 15, 2014 | Books, The Tribe, Tuesday Tales, Writing

KaneWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is to be inspired by the word Father.

I’m sticking with the next installment of The Tribe series – The Wolf again this week. 

To set up the scene ever so briefly without revealing too much, Velli and Kane have made a plan to find out where her ‘boss’ is…which involves using her as live bait. Kane pretty much hates the idea, but doesn’t have a better plan. His nerves are getting on Velli’s nerves so she goes over the plan again…but the conversation eventually takes a turn:

She let out a growl very much like her Wolf was near the surface. “Let’s go over it again, then. Best way to Sal is through Chicago. The club there is the slimiest of the lot, and the two guys that run it…”

He gritted his teeth at her shudder. “Then it’s not the best way.”

“The darkest path is the best one to get where we want to go. Plus, Larry and Carl are sick, but spineless. One of your brutal protection measures and they’ll spill Sal’s location as they piss their pants.”

“It’s not fool proof.”

“Never said it was.” She drank her beer leisurely. “Anywhere else would be foolish. They’re more organized and careful, like the place you found me at in California.”

The mere mention of California had him grabbing for his beer to cool off. Velli’s moves on stage were as impressive as her moves in battle. Worried as he might be at the upcoming plan, he was still an animal.

“I’ll go in alone. No point in setting off alarms this early in the game. I’ll do what I can to extract the information without trouble.” She polished off her beer and pushed it across the table where the bottle met his in a quiet clink.

“You said Hunters guard the place.”

“Yup. Then there’s Bacey. Best bouncer of the lot spends most of his time there, because he can handle the riff raff. He was good to me.” She narrowed her eyes at the curtains. “He never touched me, though he intimated he wanted to. I think it was a rule set down by the boss.”

“Sal.”

She didn’t answer immediately, and the familiar flicker of confusion creased her features.

“You’re not sure Sal is the boss, are you?”

“He’s boss Sal.” She bent her knees so her feet sat flat against his thigh. Gaze on the tequila, she fidgeted in her seat. “It’s one of those things again. I just have a sensation that I’m talking about someone else when I say the boss. I can’t explain it.”

“Sure you still want to do this?”

“Yes. I always knew he wasn’t the biggest man on campus—but he’s high up enough to know where she is. He was there, in California.” She glanced his way. “Fifteen minutes. Promise me you’ll give me fifteen minutes. You’ve seen me battle, you know I can do this.”

“Not one minute more.”

“If you think this is bad, you’re a pussy.”

“It’s never been my mate before.” He frowned at her attempted lightheartedness. “And as for seeing you battle, I have seen it. I often wondered why you didn’t try to be a Warrior. You sure have the skills for it. There aren’t a lot of female Warriors, but they’re there.”

“I never had the discipline. Skill isn’t all it takes to become a Warrior. I was never good at following proper behavioral rules and all of that.”  She smirked when he snorted. “As you’ve seen for yourself.”

“You’re a spoiled brat and content to be so.” He grinned in relief at her chuckle. “I get that, although you probably still would have made it. A few of the Warriors I met on my last visit were not up to the usual strict standards.”

“Our numbers were dwindling. I remember Father and Silver Fox talking in hushed tones about the problem. They were trying to pinpoint when the magic started to falter.”

“They felt it, too.”

“Of course they did. They were two of the most powerful men in the Tribe.” She shuddered and sat forward to wrap her arms around her legs. “The magic must be growing weaker now with Silver Fox gone.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go see Reed?”

“I’m not ready.” At least she didn’t bolt at the suggestion, even though her body tensed. “I’m sorry. It’s selfish.”

“It’s not selfish to worry about your child first.”

“That’s not all I’m worried about. I’m worried about what he’ll think of me.”

“The man couldn’t hate you if he tried. Much as I dislike him—the guy knows you. He hasn’t hated you all these years knowing all about you, he won’t hate you now.”

“I’m the reason his father is dead. The reason he has to return to the reservation.” She’d whispered the words, but he’d heard clear as day. After a minute she rubbed her palms along her cheeks and sniffed. “Let’s get our drink on.”

“You trying to kill me, woman?”

“Healing magic, remember? Alcohol is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”

He could push the matter of Reed, but he decided to pick his battles. In too few hours he’d be sending her to the wolves, he might as well make the next few hours easier.

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Natural Selection

by | Jun 8, 2014 | Books, Tuesday Tales, Writing

stormWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is to be inspired by this picture. The hardest part about picture prompts is always the 300 word limit. I did have another post all ready to go, but it was 1200 words and that would have gotten me in trouble 😉

This week I return to that historical paranormal I was working on a while back, Natural Selection. In our last segment some months back, Leilyn told Dell he’d better figure out what she meant after she’d berated him for allowing is father to use her as a pawn to draw in her pack–especially when Dell has a way to wipe away her old pack’s claim.

Now we join them again…and let’s see how Dell is coping with this:

Leilyn lay in the field behind Olive’s home. In twelve hours her ‘uncle’ would be there with the pack, no doubt ready for attack. The field around her sat oddly silent, not filled with children playing as it had been in the days since she’d arrived.

In the sky above her the first curling mass of storm clouds began to twist and turn in chaotic, senseless dips and turns. The sensation was oddly similar to her current emotional state.

While her head and perhaps a base instinct told her she was where she belonged, the itching burn on her ankle tugged her in another direction. Plus, she hadn’t been treated poorly all her life, she’d been treated with care and almost esteem. It wasn’t until her uncle tried to force an unnatural mating that she’d run.

Now, there was Dell.

He stirred within her a base instinct. One she’d been kept from acting on. One that drew her to him. One that told her he approached.

She smiled and closed her eyes, wondering what he’d attempt this time. For the past day he’d been attempting to woo her like a school girl. Flowers and treats, small tokens meant to show affection.

“Afternoon, Dell.” She opened her eyes.

He quirked a brow, but said nothing.

“What have you brought me this time?”

“Nothing.” Perhaps he was finally getting the point. Still, though she waited several minutes, he didn’t move an inch.

With a sigh, she propped herself on her elbows and turned her gaze away. Right when she was ready to tease his lack of imagination, he dropped to his knees behind her and grabbed her shoulders.

His nose brushed along her bare neck, and he sighed out a growl. “Duty keeps me from claiming you. Not ineptitude.”

“Duty is overrated.”

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Bottom – The Wolf

by | Jun 1, 2014 | Books, The Tribe, Tuesday Tales, Writing

KaneWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is to be inspired by the word Bottom.

I had intended on returning to Natural Selection for this week, but then as I was writing the next installment of The Tribe series – The Wolf, bottom naturally appeared. I figured I might as well get it down while the getting was good. 🙂

To set the scene, it’s been six very long years since Kane and Velli have seen each other. Torturous in many ways for both of them, but Kane finally found her. She fought him tooth and nail the night before, causing many bruises when Kane tried to keep her still, but there are others that were not by his hand. When she finally slept, Kane relaxed, hoping he might break through her resistance to help.

Kane’s offer to help is in more ways than one. He is a Shifter, and he has Healing magic. His own body heals easily…but he can also heal minor injuries in others, and he wants to heal her wounds…both the obvious ones, and the ones in her soul. She is his mate, although she has yet to believe him when he says so:

Velli stirred in his arms, her soft whimper as she sat up drew his attention away from his dark musings. In an effort to keep her calm, Kane shut his eyes as if he slept to allow her to do what she felt she needed to. He’d only react if she tried to attack or escape.

Once she’d stood and crossed the room, he opened his eyes a crack to keep an eye on her. There were bruises on her wrists from their struggle the night before, and his Healing magic told him there were more.

She had fought tooth and nail against him, but knowing her fight had caused them didn’t lessen his guilt over the injuries. He would make amends and Heal them. Then maybe, just maybe, she’d be calm enough to let him talk.

Once she disappeared behind the bathroom door, he sat. He exhaled a long breath and scrubbed his hand over his face. This would not be an easy day, and to make matters worse he’d found her the day before a full moon. The fates were conspiring against him, for the full moon meant pain for them both, and would add to Velli’s crankiness.

The shower turned on, the drumming of droplets on the tub’s bottom thumped in his ears. A few seconds later he knew she stepped in by the change in sound. Maybe he’d make coffee, have it ready for her when she got out. Perhaps over neutral territory like coffee they could get everything started.

A deep sob broke through the steady patter of water. Kane flew to his feet. Maybe he’d imagined it. No, there was another one. She was crying now, he knew it, and trying to hide behind the sounds of the shower.

His heart wrenched. For far too long he’d been away from her, unable to aid her suffering. He wouldn’t let her grieve alone when he was right there. Even if he might be the cause of her tears, or because he probably was the reason. No matter the why’s, he wouldn’t stand by.

On the way to the bathroom, he stripped down with an easy grace. Modern belief held that Native’s were modest about their bodies, and most were. That was a behavior and belief system instilled in the known tribes when they broke off from the core magical Tribe they’d been created out of, and became mostly human. The core Tribe held the balance of Shifters.

To protect what they were, the Tribe made sure all descendant natives became modest, so the Shifters that couldn’t afford to be modest would be safer. It is hard to believe a culture that is naturally modest would so easily shed clothes to Shift, after all.

At the bathroom door Kane hesitated. He took a moment to brace himself against whatever attack she’d launch before he entered.

When the door opened there was no reaction from the shower. Her soft sobs echoed out from behind the curtain. He pushed aside the barrier between them, doing his best to not flinch when her shriek echoed through the enclosed space.

“Vels.” His heart ached to have her shrink back from him. Still, he didn’t hesitate to step into the shower. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Go away.” She turned her back on him, but didn’t run away or attack. Was that really good, or terrible? What was it Lily had once said about her? Velli is volatile.

She certainly was. Kane stepped closer, the water hit his feet in rapid beats now. “Let me help you. Just this once.”

“Why? So you can betray me again? Go away.”

He touched her shoulder before pulling on it gently. Once she’d turned to face him, he brushed some tears from her cheek. With a sigh, he pulled her close and relaxed when she didn’t fight him. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head when she rested her forehead on his chest and let out another gut-wrenching sob.

“It’s not your fault,” she spoke through hiccups. “I was marked for this long before you. You just made it worse.”

“Well I’m here to make it better.”

“You can’t. Nobody can.”

“I’m a Healer. I can make anything better.”

“It’s too late for me.”

“It’s never too late.”

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Independent Brake

by | May 19, 2014 | Books, Changing Tracks, Tuesday Tales, Writing

frontporchWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is to be inspired by this picture.

Goodness I’m running behind this week, and I’m sorry. Life was rather up and down and all around…and a sick kid at home today wasn’t very inspirational to writing. Anyhow…my prompt is rather inspired by this picture as I’m still in Kat’s story and a historical western would not have a mailbox or an electric lightbulb…I’m sort of bare-bones on the details…but anyhow. After a couple of months back in Dominion Falls, Kat has spent her time having fun with Cole, but as that devolves from pure sex into friendship, she has rather upped her pursuit of the older Norman…but today he has a surprise for her:

They hadn’t gone quite a quarter of a mile before the small homestead came into view. She remembered the homestead being half-finished, devoid of life, before she’d left Dominion Falls. She couldn’t even remember who’d been building it, but she had noticed when she moved back that it had come to life, although it still seemed to be without an occupant.

Someone had finished the home finally, and painted it a cheery yellow. Though the homestead was empty, chairs perched on the small porch, just waiting for occupants.

Much to Kat’s surprise, Norman slowed to a stop in front of the small home.

“Norman?”

“I was buildin’ it for Betsy, then she up and died.”

She gasped and eyed the house. “I’d forgotten it was yours. You  left it to rot after she passed. When I left there was no porch or windows. Did someone buy it?”

“Nah. Lots of promises I didn’t keep. Few years ago I figured I’d finish one promise and fixed it up real nice. Thought I might sell it, but ain’t been able to let it go.”

“Understandable. I’m sure Elizabeth would have loved it. I remember she wore yellow all the time.”

“Was her favorite color. But she’s gone now. It’s time to let go, I s’pose.”

“Only you can know if it’s time.”

“Thought maybe you’d wanna live here so’s you can get outta Cora’s place, I mean.”

“What?” Kat dropped her hand from his arm and took a step back.

“I’d rent it to ya, if ya want. If not, I’ll probably sell it.”

“I couldn’t live in Betsy’s house. It’s a lovely gesture, and I appreciate the kindness, but it wouldn’t be right, me living there what with you ready to move on…”

“I reckon I am. Been nine years, after all.”

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Mother – Independent Brake

by | May 12, 2014 | Books, Changing Tracks, Tuesday Tales, Writing

KatWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is Mother.

After a week off, I’m back with Kat’s story, Independent Brake. Kat has decided she might just stay in Dominion Falls a while, and sets about reacquainting herself with more than just the sexy and fun Cole Mitchell–who is little more than a fun romp. She’s already invited the town doctor to lunch, and has another destination in mind, but an unwelcome person is in her path:

Down the street, Kat’s sister stood on the porch of the boarding house beating a rug over the hitching post.

Kat debated taking another route and avoiding her sister as she had all week, but she supposed the time to be childish was over. If she stayed in Dominion Falls for any length of time, she’d have to see Martha now and then.

With her shoulders squared, she kept going down the boardwalk.

Not surprisingly, when Martha turned her way, she ceased beating the rug and set her hands on her hips. Martha’s graying hair was breaking free of her bun from the exertion of her working, and her once thin waist had expanded some inches.

Kat almost felt bad for the change her sister had undergone. Almost.

“Katherine.” Martha touched her arm. “Wait.”

“For what?” Kat turned toward her sister, ready for a fight. “You to tell me what a horrible person I am? Or perhaps tell Mother and drag her here?”

“I just don’t believe you’re thinking. To take up with a man like Cole Mitchell is a grievous mistake.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’ve not ‘taken up’ with anyone. I am enjoying Cole’s company, that is all. Men do it all the time, why shouldn’t a woman when she wants?”

“It’s not right, or decent.”

“Right? Decent? You’re a fine one to talk.” Kat bowed to her sister. “To Martha, the most hypocritical person in Dominion Falls.”

“I beg your pardon?” Martha’s nostrils flared in indignation. “I’m not a hypocrite.”

“But you are. You, who took up with an Indian while engaged. You, who were with a good man like Daniel—and got pregnant by another man. You are a fine one to talk about what is right and decent in the world.”

“You wouldn’t have the faintest idea what I went through during that time.” Martha gripped her rug beater. “You were a child.”

“Exactly. Was. I nearly had to bear the consequences of your actions. However, I’m an adult now and can make my own choices.” Kat stepped closer. “You’ve tried to become this perfect person to make up for what you did. Problem is, people hate you more now than they did then. Maybe they’d have gotten over the whole Starbird thing if you hadn’t become the epitome of mother at her most uptight.”

“I had to make it right,” Martha whispered.

“Some things, you never can.” Kat turned on her heel and strode away.

“You’ve never been in love, Kat!” Martha called after her, “When you are, you’ll understand then.”

Kat brushed off the words as desperation and rushed along the muddy street quick as she could. There were no further impediments to her arrival at the telegraph office.

Inside Norman sorted mail into boxes, his back to the door. “Be right there,” he said in an acerbic tone, like he was annoyed anyone dared interrupt him from his work for a different sort of work.

She covered her mouth to hide her giggle. For some reason she found the grumpy gentleman endearing. In the week since she’d been home they’d had a few run-ins, usually right in his office. She’d become convinced his admonishments were little more than him trying to give her advice, it just happened to come in the form of scolding.

“No hurry, Norman,” Kat said when she managed to stop her quiet laughter. If anything, she wanted to be nice to him. She thought maybe he was lonely after his wife had passed some years ago. An older gentleman often had few prospects once his wife was gone, and as they’d never had children, he had no one else to pester.

“Oh, it’s you.” He kept his back to her, slipping envelopes into boxes until the small stack was depleted. “What’re you after?”

“Quite a bit, actually.” She leaned on the counter with a bright grin. “Life, laughter, happiness, fun.”

He grumbled and moved to his desk. “Got a wire for ya.”

“Oh, good. Is it from Patrick?”

“In St. Louis, yeah.” Norman set it on the counter. “What else?”

She read the wire quickly. Bess was doing well, and he was pleased she’d managed to have fun. She grinned. “First, I’d like to reply. Then, I have another request.”

Norman got his pad out and wrote almost as fast as she spoke. He ticked off the words with his pencil and nodded. “That’ll be two bits.”

“Of course.” Kat handed him the money, then set her hand on his arm. “Would you join me for supper this evening?”

He narrowed his eyes at her hand, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “’Scuse me?”

“You aren’t going deaf. You heard me.”

“What’re you doin’? Makin’ a spectacle of yourself like ya are, and now this?”

“I’m not making a spectacle. Others are making one for me. I tried to be discreet, but people had other ideas.” She pulled her hand back. “I thought I would like the company, and I thought you might as well. Forgive me, for I see I was wrong.”

He shook his head. “Why Cole?”

“Well, why not? I have no delusions of love, not with him. I have yet to find a man that would make me feel that way.”

“Then you are the one that needs company, not me. I had that once.”

“She’s been gone nine years. You must get lonely.”

“No man is lonely in this town ‘less he wants to be.”

“Whores aren’t company. They’re sexual release.”

“Woman like you shouldn’t be talking like that.”

“And yet, here I am.” Kat grinned and leaned on the counter. “That’s what Cole is for me, and I for him. Perhaps we’ll be friends, but that has yet to happen. Please, Norman. I would love if you’d join me for supper.”

“No.” He turned and went back to his work. The click of the telegraph filled the office in his silence.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be at Turner’s. Good afternoon, Norman.”

*~*

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