Read A Twitch of Tail Online

Authors: R. E. Butler

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages)

A Twitch of Tail (3 page)

Mari said, “Tera knows what she’s doing.  She’s a natural witch from a long line of witches.”

At Tera’s urging, and after casting a glance up at his father and getting a non-committal grunt, Teague drained the cup.  With a loud sigh, he laid back on the pillow.  Tera set a small, clean towel down on the coffee table behind her and laid out her supplies, giving the drink time to work.  When she was ready, she turned to the boy and felt for his pulse, which was slow and even.

“Hi, Teague.  Do you know what my name is?”

His eyes fluttered a bit, but he didn’t open them.  “Purple.  Purple eyes lady,” he said with a slurred voice and then began to breathe deeply in sleep.

She smiled and began to remove the bandages.  Someone had covered his wounds with burn ointment, and his own natural healing abilities had already started to work.  But the burns were bad and that meant he might not be able to heal them entirely.

With a mortar and pestle, she ground up many different herbs to promote healing.  The herbs would act as a conduit that she could use to settle her power into the affected area and heal the wounds.  When the herbs were ground into powder, she mixed them with lavender oil until they formed a thick paste.  She turned Teague’s arm over gently and inspected the wounds.  The worst burns were on his palm and fingers, where he had picked up the log, but he also had minor burns down the outer side of his forearm.

She began applying the paste to the burns, careful to cover every blister and angry red mark on his young skin.  Then she wrapped his forearm, palm, thumb, and individual fingers in blessed cloth strips before wiping her hands on a clean towel.  Settling her fingertips on Teague’s palm, she closed her eyes and opened herself to the healing part of her nature.  All natural witches could heal, some better than others.  It took training to develop and grow the healing abilities.  Her grandmother was a great healer, and Tera had learned many things at her feet as a child.  Although it wasn’t her strength, she could heal the burn wounds because they were only flesh deep, and those kinds of wounds were easy enough to heal.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the wounds on Teague’s arm, the thick blisters and raw, open wounds and burnt skin.  And underneath that, she saw the healthy skin.  She worked slowly, carefully, to rebuild the worst of the damage, watching as her power flowed through the herbs and into Teague’s arm, finding and repairing the burns.  Her hands hovered over his wounds as she thought about what Teague’s life would have been like without the healing.  He may never have been able to use his hand, or he may have had pain for his whole life.  But through the healing, anything was possible for him and that filled her with great hope.

She felt the last of the wounds heal completely, and eased her power away from his flesh.  She felt herself weaken through the use of the healing powers.  It was one of the reasons that a witch couldn’t walk into a hospital and heal everyone.  Each healing took something from the witch, an essence in a way, that took time and rest to replenish.  Too much healing, too fast, and a witch could die from it.

She shook off the dizziness and opened her eyes.  Reaching for Teague’s hand, she began to unwind the bandage.  She heard the collective gasps from the tigers as the bandage revealed the healed flesh of his arm.  She ran her fingers lightly down his skin, checking for any places that she had missed and found none.

“How the hell did you do that?” Ren asked, his voice a choked whisper.

Tera began to gather her things into the bag as she spoke, “It’s part of my power as a natural Wiccan.  Healing is one of the elements of my being.  I’m not a healer by trade, but I can heal wounds like this.”  She closed the bag and stood, her knees buckling slightly.  Ren grabbed her elbow and steadied her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m just a little weak from the healing.  I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” she promised.

Midas, who hadn’t said anything, stood from the chair he’d been seated in.  “Come sit in the kitchen, and I’ll make you some coffee, Tera.”

He offered Tera his arm, and she took it, smiling up into his handsome face.  Midas had a reputation as a ladies’ man.  She hadn’t met him before, but she’d seen him at a full moon celebration.  He was well built, with chocolate eyes surrounded by thick lashes, and dark blond hair that dusted his collar.

He pulled out a bar stool for her and placed her bag on the counter.  After asking Tera how she took her coffee, he filled a mug and brought it over.

“That was very impressive, Tera.”

“Thanks.  It’s a gift.”

He hummed in his throat.  “It costs you to heal, doesn’t it?  That’s why you’re weak right now.”

She nodded.

Silence settled between them for several moments.  She had the distinct feeling that Midas was going to ask her something, but he mumbled
thank you
and walked out of the kitchen quickly.

She took a sip of coffee, thinking it would be ironic if he asked her out, considering she didn’t think he was either of the men in her dreams.  How does one go about turning down the tiger king? 
Probably very, very carefully and from a great distance.

Making a face because he didn’t put enough creamer into the coffee, she stood and went to the large stainless steel refrigerator and pulled the door open.  The shelves were stuffed full of containers and jars, and she bent over, trying to figure out where a tiger king puts his creamer.  She heard a door open and shut somewhere behind her, but she was too preoccupied pushing containers around to see who it was.

“Success!” she said, grinning triumphantly as she pulled the small container of creamer from the fridge and shut the door.

She heard twin growls, low and deep, and turned quickly to see two large men stalk into the kitchen towards her.  Despite their size, their bulky bodies moved gracefully towards her, and she straightened against the fridge door.  One man had long, curly blond hair, and the other had the same color hair but cut short.  They were without shirts and shoes, wearing only jeans that showcased muscular legs.  Her mouth went dry as her eyes roamed over them quickly.  Part of her thought she was gathering details to give to a police sketch artist, and the other part of her felt like she already knew who they were.

They closed in on her, towering over her with just feet between them, and she looked up, up, up their bodies to their handsome faces.  She tried to calm her flying pulse and take in slower breaths, but her body had a mind of its own.  Her heart insisted on pounding in her chest like a trapped bird, and she couldn’t stop panting for air that smelled suddenly wild and sweet.

They reached their hands out to her at the same time, and the moment their hands wrapped around her upper arms, everything clicked into place in her mind and her heart.  Overwhelmed with sensations, her eyes rolled back in her head and everything went dark, as one word rolled through her mind: 
mates.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Tahlon leaned on the railing of the back porch of Melo’s house and looked into the backyard.  The neatly manicured lawn spread back for two hundred feet before reaching the woods that edged the property.  The whole territory belonged to the tiger ambush Melo belonged to, but Melo had built the house himself, with the help of his ambush.  Jealousy poked at Tahlon, and not for the first time.

A few years ago, Melo had gotten fed up with how life in their Florida ambush had been run.  Genevieve, the tiger queen, had what was commonly known as a harem, which she used for her annual heat-spell.  Tiger queens were unique in the were-tiger world, because their bodies would slip into a sexual frenzy for seven days in the fall.  The queen would go with little sleep during her heat, in a constant state of arousal.  One male couldn’t hope to keep up with a queen during her heat, so the queen was allowed to create a harem of unmated males who would mate with her once the king had taken her first and then once each day to ensure that his seed would take in her belly.  The males in the harem were supposed to use condoms to ensure that any cub born belonged only to the king.

It was four years ago when the queen went into her heat and called for her harem after she had sex with the king.  As it had been in the past, the harem joined her in her room, and she chose the order in which the males would service her.  When Tahlon was a young man, he’d thought it was an honor to be chosen for the harem.  He remembered how proud he’d been and how he’d wanted to be the best lover she’d ever had.  But as time went by, it became less of an honor and more of a chore.  There were nine males in the harem, including Melo.  The queen, tall and lithe, with long, golden hair and ice blue eyes, lay on the bed in her private chambers, her bare body spread out on red satin sheets like a goddess.  She called for a male named Jorah to join her on the bed.  Jorah stripped from the white cotton pants they all wore during the heat-spell and opened the small drawer of a side table where mating supplies were kept.

Jorah raised his head.  “My Queen?  There are no condoms in the supply drawer.”

One of the other males offered to get some from his own home, but the queen shushed them all with a snarl.  “No more condoms.  My mate has been unable to plant his seed and give me a child.  This heat I
will
bear a cub.”  She arched her back, spreading her legs wide.  “It will be our harem secret, and the king will never know.”

Tahlon remembered how Melo had looked at him, with worry in his eyes.  And when the queen had called for Melo to join her several hours later, when he got up from the bed, Tahlon could not help but notice that Melo’s cock was still hard.  He hadn’t come, and the queen had been so lost to her own pleasure that she hadn’t noticed that Melo had merely acted as if he had.

Tahlon was called next, and as they passed by, Melo had shaken his head at him, just slightly, and Tahlon knew that Melo was trying to warn him.  Unease settled in his stomach as he mounted the queen, and he strove to control his body and managed to hold off his own orgasm.  When he was called into her bed again and again during the heat, he never came inside her, following Melo’s lead.  They only spoke of it once after the heat, when Melo said that he didn’t think anything good could come from keeping a secret from the king.

The queen became pregnant during her heat, and when the cub was born seven months later, it wasn’t a fair-haired cub like the king and queen, but a dark-skinned child with coal black hair and brown eyes.  The king slaughtered the child as soon as he laid eyes on it, and sought out Rafael, the only dark-skinned male in the ambush, killing him as well.  The queen had pretended to be surprised by the color of the cub’s skin and had claimed that she was tricked by Rafael.  Melo had been shaken to the core by what happened; all the males had been.  Melo decided to leave then, to join up with the tiger ambush in Whispering Creek.  He’d begged Tahlon to come, but the queen had convinced him to stay.  Instead of taking a risk of fathering a cub with the queen and watching it potentially be killed by the king, he took measures to ensure that during the next heat, he would not bear a cub on her.  He’d taken a form of birth control that worked on male tigers, made up of herbs and minerals.  And it had worked.  He wasn’t the only one who took it.  All the males in the harem did, unwilling to take the risk.

 Melo joined him on the porch and they stood in the afternoon silence, both of them staring into the woods.  Melo had opened his home to Tahlon without question.  Tahlon knew that Melo wondered what had happened to change his mind, but Tahlon wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.

“I feel weird,” Melo said, leaning heavily against the porch railing.

“Yeah?”  Tahlon glanced at his older brother.  “I haven’t slept for shit since I got here.  I figured it was because it’s so damn quiet here.”

Melo looked at him.  “I haven’t slept right since you got here.  I thought it was because I wasn’t used to having anyone in the house.  Maybe…”  His voice trailed off.

“Maybe what?” Tahlon prompted.

Shaking his head, Melo shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I feel different.  Antsy.  Fall Equinox is tomorrow night, and sometimes that brings changes with it.”  He wiped the introspective look off his face and replaced it with a grin.  “Wanna go for a run?  I told Midas I’d check in with him, and his place isn’t too far away.”

Tahlon nodded.  He hadn’t shifted since he’d been here, and he and Melo hadn’t been hunting together since he left the ambush.  Tahlon had missed his brother.  Melo went into the house and came out with a soft leather pouch, instructing Tahlon to put his jeans into it, and when Melo had stripped and put his own jeans inside, he slipped the strap over his shoulders like a backpack and shifted.

Tahlon followed his brother into the woods, and they prowled through the trees together, leisurely chasing small creatures and startling birds, which was always good fun.  Melo led the way.  The closer they got to the tiger king’s home, the stranger Tahlon felt.  He almost felt as if his heart were being squeezed tightly, incessantly.  The feeling grew stronger, until they stopped at the back of Midas’ home and shifted into their human forms.

As he pulled on his jeans, Tahlon said, “Fuck, I feel strange.”

“Me, too,” Melo said, looking towards the house.  Ambush members were milling around inside.

They walked into the house together through the back sliding glass door as Midas was coming out of the kitchen.  Midas greeted them, and Tahlon was aware he greeted the king in return, but it was an automatic response.  All he could focus on was a sweet scent in the air.  He moved silently toward the couch, where a cub was sitting with his parents.  The scent was strong there, and reminded him of brown sugar.

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