Crave the Night (11 page)

Understanding the noodle-logic didn’t
matter, because he wasn’t fey. He was a plain old wolf, with a
different task in front of him. She needed a practical solution. He
was good at those.

Rafe pulled Lila to his chest. “What exactly
were the words of this vow again? That you would find something of
equal value to the forest?”

“
Or die trying.”

Rafe pushed her gently aside. “Get
dressed.”

She sat up, her eyes huge. “Why?”

“
If the oath depends on Masterson
agreeing to the deal, then we need him present to unmake the oath,
right? We have to find him.”

“
Unless he gets what he wants, he’ll
never let me go.”

“
He’ll get what he
deserves.”

Rafe had barely zipped up his jeans
when heard what sounded like rustling wingbeats. He craned his
neck, looking past the treetops at the dark sky.
Friend? Enemy?
As the sound grew a notch
louder, he recognized the leathery flap of the gargoyles. “I think
your sisters are here.”

He could use their help, but at the
same time he hated to end the time alone with Lila. Well, if he had
his way, there would be plenty of quality time in their
future.
Not if, when.

Lila responded by pulling her dress over her
head. “My sisters were supposed to be in the forest, protecting
their homes. This is folly.”

Her voice was panicked. Rafe put his arm
around her shoulders. They stood side-by-side, Lila pressing into
his side, and staring into the night sky. The stars were blotted
out by a dark, ragged shape that grew larger and weirder-looking
the closer it got. The wingbeats amplified into a racket of
flapping.

Two gargoyles, dangling the furious
form of Masterson between them. Rafe’s chest swelled with
hope.
Great minds think alike.
When the hideous creatures flapped in for a landing, they
dropped the red-faced man to the ground. He landed with a grunt and
a thump that made Rafe wince.

“
What are you doing here?” Lila cried.
“What’s
he
doing
here?”

The gargoyles blurred, their shapes
dissolving into a halo of white light. Rafe blinked and when his
vision cleared, he saw in their place two women in long white
dresses. One had her hair done in an elaborate wreath of braids.
The other had hers cut short, framing a face filled with mischief.
Both were almost as beautiful as Lila.

Almost. They didn’t strike him dumb with
their beauty as Lila had. Rafe cast a quick glance at the woman
nestled against his side. Lila had blinded him to anyone else.

The one with the braided hair spoke. “My
sister, you didn’t think we would simply abandon you?”

“
We agreed.”

“
You agreed. We thought he needed the
opportunity to release you from the last of your oath.” She cast
Masterson an acidic look.

Rafe couldn’t stifle a grin.

Masterson raised his head. He looked
windblown and frightened, but Rafe saw his jaw set in defiance. To
a man like that, fear was weakness, and there was no way he’d
appear weak.

Masterson glared at Lila. “I’m not releasing
you from anything. You’re the one who couldn’t deliver.”

“
You didn’t tell me you already had a
history with Pack Devries,” she shot back.

“
Not material.”

Lila shifted from foot to foot, clearly
nervous. “My year and a day isn’t up. You moved your equipment in
too soon. You broke your word.”

“
Like you were going to accomplish
anything in the next twenty-four hours.” Masterson folded his
arms.

The short-haired sister spoke, and her voice
was dangerous. “Your desire for our land is going to kill our
people, and it’s going to kill her. We have played this game in a
way that kept wild magic on a leash, but you make us
desperate.”

Masterson gave a slow shrug. “Go have
another granola bar.”

A moment of stunned silence blanketed the
scene.

The fey blinked as if there wasn’t a place
in their imagination for such rudeness. Rafe opened his mouth to
speak, but never had the chance.

Lila slugged Masterson. Even without fey
strength, it would have been a sound shot. As it was, the man went
over backward with a cartoonish thud. Leaves and fallen pine
needles flew up as he landed, startling a bird from the underbrush.
The man grunted with pain, massaging his jaw.

“
Nice,” Rafe said. “Good form. Economy
of movement. A definite eight.”

Lila cradled her hand, massaging the
knuckles. “That felt fabulous.”

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last.
Masterson got to his feet unsteadily. He looked around, his
belligerent expression only highlighted by the angry red mark where
Lila had punched him. “You are so fired, Wilding. And I’m suing the
rest of you.”

Dumbass
. The
man was either terminally stupid or suicidal. Anger choked Rafe,
cutting off his air. He cleared his throat. “My name is Rafe
Devries. My father is the Alpha of Pack Devries.”

Masterson occupied himself with dusting off
his clothes. “So?”

Rafe felt an urge to tear out the man’s
throat, finish the episode wolf-style. But killing the man wouldn’t
help Lila, so Rafe fought down the impulse. Now was the time to get
practical. Lila’s mention of old fairy tales—and how often humans
failed to read the fine print—had reminded him there was more than
one way to look at a fair exchange.

“
You had a bargain with Lila Wilding,
and I’m seeing it through to a successful conclusion.”

“
Oh?” said Masterson, now sounding
curious.

“
Rafe!” Lila mouthed in a horrified
whisper. “What . . .?”

He held up a finger, signaling patience.
“You require a trade of something of equal or greater worth to
Gilden Woods.”

“
Yeah.”

“
I’ll tell you what Gilden Woods are
worth. They’re valuable for the shelter they give, for the scent of
pine and the beauty of the sun dappling the forest glades, for the
sound of the bird song and the peace they give an open
heart.”

Masterson scowled. “Why the hell should I
care about that?”

Rafe went on, not missing a beat. “I will,
on behalf of the wolves, offer Masterson Corporation the ecstasy of
running through the wide open fields of Wolf Creek. The scent of
new hay and warm cattle. The beauty of the frost sparkling on the
gate post in winter, and the laughter of our children. We offer you
the enjoyment of these freely. Come and partake of them whenever
you please. I’d say that was a fair exchange.”

The three fey bowed ceremonially.

“
The exchange is heard and witnessed,”
said Rosemund. “Let the deal be fulfilled.”

“
Heard and witnessed,” said the other
sister, nodding her head gravely.

Rafe heard Lila gasp, and he grabbed
her as she sagged against him. He smelled the telltale burnt-toast
scent of magic.
Something
was
happening.

Masterson breathed heavily, as if he’d run
the hundred miles from the woods rather than taken the gargoyle
express. “That’s not what I meant.”

“
Did you specify cash value?” Rafe
demanded. “Were you precise in your definition of
worth?”

“
No, he did not,” said Lila slowly,
her eyes bright as she straightened and regained her feet. “So the
offer is a valid one. You think like a dark fey, werewolf. I wonder
if I should be afraid.”

Her sisters laughed, utterly delighted, and
wrapped Lila in their arms.

“
That’s cheating!” Masterson roared,
sounding like a child robbed of his lunch money.

Rafe gripped the man’s shoulder, not hurting
him but making the possibility a tangible thing. “Not unless we
took something you had a right to. You don’t have a right to the
oil under Wolf Creek, or to the trees of Gilden Wood. Those woods
are parkland. If I hear you’ve taken so much as a pine cone, I’ll
make it my personal mission to remind you wolves don’t mess around
with vows and bargains. When we say ‘no,’ that’s our final
answer.”

Masterson released a volley of expletives
and wrenched himself out of Rafe’s grip. “This doesn’t end here,
wolf.”

But his eyes held the acknowledgement of
defeat. Rafe held his gaze a long moment, silently forcing him to
accept that Rafe had won and he had lost and that Lila was
free.

Masterson looked away first.

“
I’m afraid it does end here,”
Rosemund said with a smile that reminded Rafe more of Darak than
the Tooth Fairy. The other sister—Rafe had heard Lila call her
Arabelle—had already resumed her gargoyle shape.

“
Are you taking him back to his media
event?” Rafe asked dryly.

“
I wouldn’t have him miss that for the
world,” Rosemund replied. “I’m astonished by the speed human
communications travel. It seems word has already spread to a nest
of vampires in Florida who have a bone to pick with Mr. Masterson.
They are most eager to speak with him about another past real
estate deal once his time in front of the cameras is done. Of
course, the fey of Gilden Wood are pleased to supply
transportation.”

The man groaned. The fey laughed in a way
that made Rafe glad he was on their side. In another moment, two
gargoyles were flapping away, Masterson in tow.

Alone again, at
last
.

“
So.” He turned to Lila, cupping her
face in his hands. “I guess there’s no need to die anytime
soon.”

His words were light, but he felt solemn.
They’d escaped disaster by a whisker. He kissed her gently, hoping
it would blossom into more very soon.

She was crying, moonlit tears silvering her
cheeks. A fine trembling had taken her, the aftermath of shock and
fear and relief. “You stormed into my house, Rafe Devries, a wolf
bent on defeating me. You could not best me with fang or claw, but
your kind and clever heart has made me surrender. Do with me what
you will.”

Rafe allowed himself a lazy smile. “I
just see you for who you are, and I like what I see, my
belle dame sans merci
.” He kissed
her lightly on the forehead. She was anything but the merciless
siren of the poem. She was a champion. A woman. His lover. “You
can’t hide from a wolf.”

“
Why not?” she laughed, her green eyes
filled with the light of happiness, and the beginnings of a
mischievous twinkle.

“
We’re not afraid of pickle
forks.”

Her joy turned to profound bewilderment. She
wrinkled her nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rafe grinned. It was nice to be the one
sowing confusion for a change. “I think we might have a future,
Lila Wilding.”

###

Lori Devoti

The bar was dirtier and darker than any dive
Nolan Moore had ever entered, even on a dare. Smoke clouded the
air, shrouding the bar's patrons and decor, but Nolan could smell
the humans, each and every one, and hear them...hear the beat of
each of their hearts and the whoosh of every breath as it exited
their lungs.

His nostrils flared, and his hands fisted.
He didn't want to know that the man on his right, drinking beer
from a chipped glass mug, had a heart valve that was close to
failing. He didn't want to know that the woman that man was
standing close to had slept with someone other than the man, only
hours earlier.

But, damn, his vampire senses, he did.

The man with the damaged valve moved his
hand to the woman's ass and whispered in her ear. She giggled and
rubbed against him.

Nolan, teeth grinding together, turned away
and stalked deeper into the stink, heat and sound until he wanted
to spin in circles and growl, become the monster his family already
thought he'd become.

"Stranger." A man standing behind the bar, a
short grizzled type with weathered skin and battered features, laid
a revolver onto the wooden bar in front of Nolan. On the back of
the man's hand was a tattoo of an eye—the evil eye. Nolan glanced
at it, unimpressed.

His fingers curling around the gun's butt,
the bartender asked, "What or who are you looking for?"

Straight to business, which suited Nolan
fine. The sooner he was out of the stifling stench of the bar the
better.

"I need a guide, one that knows the sea. I
heard this was the place to come."

The bartender's index finger twitched, less
than a millimeter of movement, but the vampire didn’t miss the
nervous tick.

The man replied, "You're feet from the
docks. Lots know the sea here. Some place in particular you're
looking to find?"

"The hag." Not a place, but a person...or
being. Nolan wasn't sure what the sea hag was, and he didn't care.
His only concern was that the stories were true and she had what he
needed.

The bartender’s fingers closed tighter
around the gun's butt. "You have business with her?"

"I wouldn't need a guide to find her if I
didn't." Nolan leaned closer, meeting the man's gaze.

The wall behind the bar was covered with
objects Nolan recognized as attempts to ward off evil. But
considering they'd done nothing to stop him from entering the
place, the effort was wasted.

"There's...someone who might help." The man
raised one bushy brow and slid his hand forward.

Nolan dropped two bills onto the man's palm
and waited.