Authors: Unknown
Chapter Twenty Eight
“May this year’s butter sculpture be revealed!”
At the command from the Syracuse mayor, the curtains lifted and the crowd cheered. Inside the glass house, the real-size sculpture of a group of five friends playing poker was displayed. The revolving monument made of 800 pounds of butter was a herculean effort from its sheer size, but Yara couldn’t stop herself from thinking –
is that it?
She’d worked with the wolves for the past hour to put
that
together. Yes, it was impressively real, yes it was a lot of butter, but was that it?
She paused and scrutinized it. There was something weird about it. She took a step closer and slowly understood what the fuss was all about. The group of friends was no ordinary one. The man on the extreme left had something poking out of his lips – like fangs. The one opposite him, who had been depicted drinking beer, had an unnaturally hairy chest. His mouth looked slightly too long for a human, grotesque almost. The other figurine to the left had slightly pointy ears.
Yara’s lips curled up as an amused smile crossed her face. The hints were right there, hidden underneath the surface and at plain sight. It wasn’t a group of human friends playing cards. It was a group of supernatural creatures. A vampire, a werewolf, a fae woman, a deamon and a draco sat around a table, playing poker, as if they did that every week.
It was so simple yet powerful for those who understood the message, for those who were old enough to remember that there was nothing of friendship among those races. The sculpture was telling them all – yes, it is easy to be friends because at the end of the day we are all the same, with same aspirations, same habits, sharing the same world.
“Clever, huh?”
Yara turned around and smiled at Rafe’s comment. “Very.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided them to the table where Sandy and the others were.
“Sandy, I’m so impressed,” Yara said as she sat down. “Congratulations.”
“Oh, you should congratulate yourself!” Sandy replied with a beaming smile that went from ear to ear. “I don’t think we’d have made it without your help.”
Yara shrugged her shoulders. “Nah, I did nothing.”
“Here, drink with us,” one of the other helpers added. “You deserve it as much as we do.”
“After all you managed to survive working with Sandy,” another female from the pack drawled.
They all laughed – even Sandy – then lifted their beers in cheers.
Yara smiled and just let herself enjoy the moment. They were a bunch of passionate wolves. They reminded her awfully of her own family, where love and hate rode side by side.
Feeling utterly relaxed, she slouched on the chair and rested her head on Rafe’s shoulder. He lifted his arm to accommodate her better then started playing with her hair. Yara took a sip of her beer and sighed. She didn’t remember feeling so happy, so relaxed in years! Rafe had turned to be everything she wanted in a man. When she looked at him she saw a companion, a fighter, a family man, not to mention an incredible lover that matched her wicked dreams at every corner.
Rafe’s gray gaze met hers, a lazy smile played on his lips. “What is it?” he asked softly.
I think I’m in love with you.
“Nothing,” she said instead.
His gaze became serious and he ran the back of his fingers along her cheeks. “Yeah, I think I
nothing
you too,” he whispered, then pulled her into a tender kiss.
Yara’s toes curled, butterflies danced in her stomach. His lips felt soft yet powerful at the same time. Apparently he didn’t care that the place was packed with people, that half of his pack was sitting right next to them. He wasn’t afraid of showing that she was with him, and that realization made Yara insides melt, her heart was dancing the Macarena in her chest.
“Oh, come on, get a room!” one of his cousins cried out.
Rafe just flipped him the bird.
Yara couldn’t contain a silly grin from spreading across her face.
“Archie!” Sandy shouted, calling everyone’s attention.
Her brother waved at them, as he crossed the pavilion.
“Where in Hiad were you?” Sandy asked when he reached their table.
Archie just shrugged in reply then tapped Rafe in the shoulder. His grim face showed he wasn’t in the mood for celebration.
The joy that had lifted Rafe’s masculine features vanished. He gave Yara a quick peck on the lips and murmured, “I’ll be right back.”
“Is everything OK?” she asked as he stood up.
“Yeah, all good,” he replied lightly, but his smile never reached his eyes. He bent down and kissed her on the lips again, lingering a bit longer. “I won’t be long.”
Yara’s mind nudged in suspicion but her heart warmed in affection. Ai, she had definitely fallen head over heels for that wolf.
“Awww, how sweet,” Sandy drawled.
Yara turned to find everyone in the table grinning at her. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Shut up, Sandy,” Yara scolded lightheartedly. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Rafe kiss a girl before.”
“Kissing yeah,” she answered. “Gleefully happy? No.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Ever since his father died, there had always been a dark cloud over his head, and now it has magically gone poof!” one of the other wolves added, making a vanishing gesture with his hands.
“And don’t worry about Rafe disappearing with Archie,” Sandy added. “They have always been like that, glued by the hips.”
Glued by the hips, huh? She pushed off the chair, meaning to go after them, but paused when Rafe’s words echoed in his mind –
we have to learn from our falls but a time must come when we stop giving them too much importance, and start living again
. He was right. She was projecting Pedro’s deceit on Rafe. He didn’t look very happy when he left with Archie but that didn’t mean he was on to something bad. No, it was time to start living again and that meant, trusting Rafe. Yara sat back down again and took a sip of her beer.
“I never understood why the unveiling of the butter sculpture is the day
before
the opening of the fair,” one of the ladies blurted out. She looked like she’d had one too many beers.
“Beats me,” another one replied. “Maybe they need the media buzz to sell more tickets before the official opening.”
“Nonsense,” Sandy counter-argued. “Look at this place, it’s packed. A million people come to the fair each year, guaranteed.”
Yara tuned out as the wolves argued about why the butter sculpture wasn’t unveiled during the official opening ceremony. Her eyes roamed around the crowded pavilion. Families of different backgrounds walked around enjoying the many dairy treats being sold. One vendor displayed a large sign saying “Voted the best hot chocolate in America”; another was giving out free samples of some sort of frozen yogurt; a Barbie-like lady wearing a crown and a sash with the words “Dairy Princess” strolled around posing for pictures. Yara chuckled. Ai, Apa Dobrý, humans were a tacky bunch sometimes.
Something odd made her pause. A short, stumpy man wearing a thick hoodie was lining up to grab one of the free samples of yogurt. She wouldn’t have given him a second thought if it wasn’t for the kid next to him. The boy was staring up, wide eyed, jaw-dropped, his frozen yogurt forgotten, dripping on the floor. The short man picked up his sample off the teller’s hands and turned around hastily and bumped straight into a couple waiting for their turn. As he did, he looked up for the first time. Yellow eyes with black slithers, rough, green skin. The man wasn’t human. He was a razbian.
The hairs on the back of Yara’s neck lifted. Something big was going down. What in Hiad was a razbian doing at the New York State Fair? On impulse she reached for her cellphone to call Z and Sam, only to realize, she didn’t have one. Damn it. It had been blown away at the Dungeon.
“I’ll be right back,” she mumbled and left after the razbian.
But following a short man in the midst of a crowded amusement park wasn’t easy. Sandy hadn’t lied when she said that a million people attended the fair each year. The event hadn’t officially been opened yet and the place was packed.
She exhaled a long breath. Damn it. She walked around for a while, looking for him, but to no avail. The razbian had managed to disappear in broad daylight amongst the crowd. She turned on her heels intending to return to the Dairy Products Building, where Sandy and the others were, when a platinum-blond man looking very grim crossed her path.
Archie.
Probably lost in his worries, Rafe’s cousin didn’t even notice her. He rushed through the crowd, not even bothering to dodge people. Yara followed him, careful not to get too close. He turned a sharp left after the giant merry go round and disappeared into a large tent.
Yara tip-toed around it, searching for another way to go in. A few feet along the side, there was a rip big enough for her to squeeze her way in. She looked around to check if the coast was clear, then ducked inside.
The place was probably used to store food for the many farm animals on display at the fair. Piles of dried grass were stacked up, filling half of the tent. What in Hiad was Archie doing in here? And where was Rafe?
“I couldn’t find him,” she heard him saying from somewhere on the left. The place was very dim, only lit by the sun rays coming from the partially open flap. She followed his voice. “The bastard must have chickened out at the last minute.”
“Did he confirm he’d be coming along?”
Yara’s stomach did a somersault. That was Rafe’s voice.
“Yeah, my contact was going to introduce us, get his dough and split,” Archie replied.
Yara crawled low, trying to get closer, to find a better vantage point.
“Well, they’re late as fuck. Don’t like that, Arch. Feels wrong.” Rafe said. “Let’s beat it and forget about this whole thing.”
What were they on about? Who were they waiting for? Yara stole a glance up, hidden by the shadows, she might get away with it.
Rafe was restless, pacing up and down. He ran his hand along his stubble then paused in front of the tent’s open flap. A frown wrinkled Yara’s brow as the sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her. She’d seen this sight before.
A tall man standing by a door frame, light casting a shadow against his strong physique. Where had she seen this before?
A chill ran down her spine when she remembered. It had been in London. She had run after the razbian inside the factory, the one holding the box of bullets. She had cornered the bastard but then a mysterious man showed up out of the blue and snatched the bullets from her grasp.
No, she shook her head. It couldn’t have been Rafe in London. He would’ve told her if he’d had the atomic bullets all along. A secret like that was too big, too important. He wouldn’t have betrayed her that way. Would he?
“Fine, let’s go then,” Archie said with a resigned voice and started walking away. “But I promise you, my dealer will regret standing us up.”
She stood up, also intending leave, when the sound of new footsteps reached her ears. Fuck! Yara dived back behind the hay, as a tall blond man with piercing grey eyes and snake leather shoes walked into the marquee.
“Why? Leaving so soon, cubs?” the owner of the amusing pair of shoes asked.
Phillip had just arrived.
Chapter Twenty Nine
What in Hiad was
Phillip
doing there? Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes. A bad feeling churned in his stomach when he saw the draco block his way. This was bad news. He had probably chased him there to collect the money, but a fight with Phillip was the last thing Rafe needed right now.
“Never thought you were into milk, Phillip,” he remarked, feigning a disinterest he certainly didn’t feel.
Phillip pinned him with a sarcastic grin. “I’m not, dog.”
“We’re more into making money,” Balaur, the dragon lord, said as he walked into to the tent.
Fuck.
This was definitely bad news. Rafe stood tall and squared off against his debt collectors. They were blocking the exit, but he was a fighting champion, it would take more than a couple of dracos to stop him. “I told you I’d come around with the green next week. So, next week it is. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else we need to be.”
He signaled to Archie and stomped forward. Phillip shifted on his feet, darting his eyes from Rafe to Balaur, obviously not knowing what do to. Should he strike or should he not strike? That
was
the question, pimp! And Rafe wasn’t going to stay around until he made up his mind.
But just as he was about to cross the threshold, three massive razbians stepped in their way. Damn it.
He glanced at Archie. His friend looked ready for some knuckle cracking action, but Rafe wasn’t. The last thing he wanted was to fight his way out of there. Yara was waiting for him at the Dairy Products building. He really didn’t want to have to explain fighting bruises to her. They had had such a great two days together. She was finally getting to trust him. He’d wouldn’t let those fucking dracos spoil it now.
“You’re making a mistake, Balaur,” Rafe warned darkly, not bothering to turn around. “Tell your lizards to step aside.”
“I wish I could, Rafe,” Balaur replied. “But you see, I told you I’m in the business of making money, and right now, that means bullets.”
What?
Rafe’s breath got stuck in his throat. How can Balaur have known they had the white bullets? He turned to Archie, asking silently for an explanation.
“Man, I’m gonna kill Remi,” Archie mumbled.
Rafe’s blood boiled in his veins. “
Remi?
As in Tardieh's servant, Remi?” he asked between clenched teeth. “The same fuck head who’s been feeding Phillip intel since the beginning of times?
He
is your dealer?”
“Nice to see that you finally got up to speed with the news, champion,” Balaur said sarcastically.
Phillip let out a loud laugh. “Oh, man! This is better than Mexican soap opera.”
Archie glanced from Rafe to Phillip then back to Rafe. “Damn, Rafe, I didn’t know.” A drip of sweat rolled down his temple. “Where is that fucker?” he asked Phillip between clenched teeth.
“He felt an overwhelming urge to meet the sun,” the draco replied.
Rafe cursed then ran his hand along his stubble. They were two against five. Yeah, the odds weren’t in their favor but Rafe and Archie were still more skilled in combat than any of them.
He glared at the Dragon Lord. Balaur had won the first round by knowing in advance that they held the bullets, but that didn’t mean the game was over.
“You’re surrounded. It’s over, Rafe,” Balaur said flatly. “Now, give me what I want.”
“Show me the money first,” he demanded.
“You mean the money you owe him?” Phillip chortled out.
“A deal is a deal, pretty boy,” Archie retorted. Then he walked to a stack of hay and pulled out a black box. “If you want these, you’ll have to show us the green.”
A soft gasp echoed in the tent, coming from somewhere to their right. Was there someone else in there? Rafe turned around looking for its source but nothing seemed out of place. Maybe he’d imagined it.
“If I were you, I’d be more careful with your words,” Balaur snarled at Archie. “You’re talking to one of the five ancient members of the Draconian Senate. I don’t take threats lightly.”
“Don’t give a fuck who you are, draco,” Archie replied. “No dough, no bullets. That’s the deal.”
A ghost of a smile played on Rafe’s lips.
Good on you, Archie, for standing up tall.
“I think these dogs need to learn their lesson, my lord,” Phillip snarled. His nostrils started blowing out smoke, his eyes turned into a deep yellow.
The senseless moron was going to blast a tent full of hay. The park was packed; the fair stands were made of wood and other very inflammable material. A small fire could easily turn into the disaster of the century.
“Balaur,” Rafe called out. “One howl and my entire pack will be here. Do you want the bullets or not?”
Balaur glared at Phillip, motioning him to stand down. Then he turned his attention back to Rafe. “Ok, champ, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to cut you a nice little deal because all I really want is to make money.” He paused, as if to build up the suspense. “Give me the bullets and I’ll waive half of the debt you owe me.”
“100%,” Rafe replied. “I want all my pack’s debts forgiven.”
“Your pack is not my problem,” the dragon lord replied in a condescending tone. “I told you before, I don’t care why you dug your balls into debt, all I care about is the
money
.”
Rafe shook his head. “I hear the vampires are desperate to get their hands on these bullets, too.”
That wiped the smugness off Balaur’s round face.
“Watch your words, dog,” Phillip snarled. “You’re still outnumbered here.”
“And that has never been a problem before,” he replied with an “I dare you” grin.
“75%.” Balaur said. “I’ll waive off 75% of your debt.”
Rafe lost his temper. All he could think of was Yara waiting for him just half a mile away. “I don’t think you’re getting it, dragon,” he snarled. “I’m not called the Dungeon Champion for nothing. You know I can take you down, along with your lizard guards and Mr. Shiny Shoes over there, even before your fat brain registers what’s happened.” Rafe wrenched the case off Archie’s hand. “You’ll waive 100% of my debt, or these bullets will go straight to Tardieh. Your call.”
Balaur narrowed his eyes at Rafe. Thick silence descended in the tent.
The dragon lord chortled loudly. “You are a better negotiator than I gave you credit for, wolf.”
Rafe didn’t stand down. He waited for Balaur’s next move. It was make it or break it, and Rafe was ready to break their necks.
“Fine, wolf, I’ll forgive your debts. No problem,” Balaur finally said, as if accepting an invitation to go bowling or something. “Give me the black case and I’ll give you the documents.”
A sinking feeling overcame Rafe as he saw Balaur’s outstretched hand, ready to take the box. Rafe knew he had no choice. He knew he’d been almost lucky that Balaur had brought just three guards with him, not more. Otherwise, their negotiation would have gone down quite differently. But he couldn’t ignore the horrible gut feeling telling him this was bad. Yara’s words came flooding back –
Imagine what would happen if these bullets got into the wrong hands?
Rafe swallowed dry. He held up the case, clutching his fingers around its leather. It was quite small and weightless compared to what it held inside – the deadly weapon it carried.
He lifted the box, Balaur took a step forward. His chubby fingers tweaked in eagerness.
“Fuck this,” Rafe snarled, and slammed it against the draco’s head.
Balaur swayed backward feeling the hit. His hand clutched at the side of his head, trying to stop the dark blood from flowing.
“Big mistake, wolf,” Phillip replied and charged forward.
Rafe swung sideways trying to block his attacks and protect the box at the same time.
A mighty roar echoed in the entire gazebo, making everyone stop.
Out of nowhere, a black panther leaped in the air from behind the hay stacks, taking them all by surprise.
Rafe’s heart sunk when he recognized the beautiful animal. Yara. She was there and had probably heard the whole thing.
Strong muscles flexed and stretched in the air. Her black short coat glistened against the rays of sunshine while her long claws and sharp teeth intoned her power. She landed a few feet away and their eyes met. It was for less than a second, but Rafe clearly saw the pain in them. The pain he had caused.
Before Phillip could even blink, or make a move, Yara snatched the box out of Rafe’s hands and sprinted toward the back of the tent.
Balaur hauled in rage then darted after Yara with Phillip on his tow. But before they managed to take their first step, Rafe was already shifting into his wolf. He heard Archie following him suit by his side.
“Stop the guards,” he said as his limbs elongated and white fur covered his skin.
He didn’t wait for his wolf to be fully shifted. He lunged in the air and landed on Balaur’s back, taking them both to the ground. The draco rolled around, dragging Rafe with him. The fucker was stronger than Rafe anticipated. A powerful punch connected with Rafe’s rib cage, stealing the air from his lungs. Rafe forced his brain to ignore the pain, there was no time for that. He swung his claws ripping into Balaur’s skin, opening a gash across the draco’s chest. Rafe knew that it would take the dragon lord a few precious seconds to recover, so he got on his fours again and rushed after Phillip.