Storm's Fury Read online

  “Now is not the time to berate him, Fury,” his sister-kin, Tempest, reprimanded as she wrapped a white gauze bandage around the junction between Hatrid’s arm and shoulder. “He’s alive. We should be rejoicing.” She finished her work and peered up at Fury. She leaned to the side, peering around him. “Who’s this?”

  He glanced back and down at Stormy, who was staring back at Tempest as if she were a child meeting adults for the first time. “This is my chosen, Ambrosia,” he introduced, pulling her from behind him and pushing her toward Tempest.

  Stormy tugged at the tails of the oversized shirt she had on. “Call me Stormy. He’s the only idiot that calls me Ambrosia.” She held her hand out for Tempest to shake and glared over her shoulder at Fury.

  Tempest forwent Stormy’s outstretched hand and instead pulled her into her arms. “Welcome to the family, Sister-kin.”

  “What? No, we’re not…” Stormy’s face reddened as a grimace slipped into place. “I’m his prisoner and he’s a pathetic, horny little man.”

  Fury rolled his eyes and turned to Tempest. “She fainted when we first met. I couldn’t leave her there in that disgusting alleyway, could I?”

  “You could’ve taken me to a hospital,” Stormy snapped, turning on him with an imperceptible roll of her neck.

  “What would have been the fun in that?” he shot back.

  Her anger should have had him reevaluating his actions, but all it did was make his dick throb. There was something about her unwillingness to submit to him, her desperate need for control and to be independent. If she were any other woman, he would’ve walked away the moment she opened her damn mouth.

  “You’re a manipulative bastard and I want nothing to do with you.” She fisted her hands in the ends of her shirt. “This—” she waved a hand in Hatrid’s direction. “He doesn’t concern me. You don’t concern me,” she corrected as she took a deliberate step in his direction.

  Fury peered down at her and growled low in warning. His dick pulsed and the knot swelled. “This must be a new development, because you seemed to have nothing but concern for me a few hours ago. If I remember correctly you were trying to change my name to Jesus. Or was it Christ?”

  The slap echoed through the room. “You rancid bastard. How dare you?”

  Fury stared down at her, trying to gage exactly what he’d said wrong. The slap didn’t hurt. Hell, he barely felt it, but the fact that she would raise her hand to him without provocation left him dumbfounded. “Did you just raise your…hand…to me?” He wasn’t sure what she saw in his eyes, but she flinched, her hands coming up to ward him off.

  “And I’ll do it again, damn it.”

  “Enough of this.” Tempest slid between them. “Stormy, come with me. Let’s see if I can find something decent for you to wear.” She cupped both of Stormy’s shoulders, leaned away from her, and looked her up and down. “You’re such a petite thing.”

  Dragging her eyes away from Fury, Stormy nodded once in agreement. Tempest led her out the room and snapped via the link she and Fury shared, What the hell were you thinking?

  What did I do this time?

  What didn’t you do? You kidnapped her. You obviously coaxed her into having sex with you, and you drag her around in nothing but a shirt. And to top it all off, you use the private act that occurred between the two of you as ammunition to hurt her? Tempest growled. If she hadn’t slapped you, I would’ve done it myself.

  I did no such thing! If she didn’t want it, she could’ve told me no. Hell, I even pleaded with her to make me stop, but she didn’t. And yes, I may have kidnapped her, but what was I supposed to do, leave my chosen on the damn streets robbing johns? Or maybe…just maybe I was supposed to pretend she hadn’t bound me to her.

  That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. You could’ve handled this differently. You could’ve done all of this differently, Fury.

  He couldn’t refute that. It was the truth. He’d known what he was doing from the beginning, and if he had it to do all over again, he wasn’t quite sure he’d do anything differently.

  I love you to death, Fury, but you’re a complete idiot. Tempest severed the link so abruptly that Fury flinched.

  Crul materialized on the opposite side of the bed Hatrid was now dozing on, his hands shoved in his pockets. Charcoal gray eyes scanned the room and came to a stop on Fury. “You look well.”

  “How else did you expect me to look?”

  “I was sure Tempest was going to maim you.”

  “And so being the coward you are, you hid until the dust settled.”

  “Coward?” Crul chuckled dryly. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a coward.” He held his head high, nose in the air and tasted the word again. “Cow…ward.” He shook his head. “No, can’t say that I like it much.” He changed the subject abruptly. “So, Ambrosia appears to be quite the handful.”

  Fury shrugged and looked away. “Nothing I can’t take care of. Besides, there will be time later for explanations and apologies.” Which would come from him, and which would come from her, he hadn’t a clue, but there would be time for it. He would make certain of it.

  “If you say so,” Crul replied wryly.

  Reaching out, Fury slapped Hatrid’s across the face to wake him up. “All right, what the hell happened?” Hatrid moaned low. He wouldn’t die from such a wound; no Anubi would.

  Hatrid pushed himself up on his good elbow, his head bobbling sluggishly. “It happened too damn fast. He—he caught me off guard, that’s it.”

  “What were you doing in the city?” Fury moved closer to the bed.

  “I got a call.”

  “From whom?”

  “Why the hell are you interrogating me? If you were there instead of…”

  Hatrid didn’t need to finish for Fury to get the picture. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

  “What’s not fair is that you started this mess by snatching Luzivius, but I get ripped apart while you’re rutting that bitch.”

  Fury moved, his fist connecting with Hatrid’s nose with a crack. “Watch your mouth, runt!”

  Crul moved, pushing between the two before Fury could throw another punch or Hatrid could retaliate with his good arm. “Enough! What the hell is wrong with the two of you?”

  Hatrid covered his nose with his hand, then brought it down and looked at his palm, checking for blood. “There’s nothing wrong with me. What the hell is his problem? Ever since he was taken, he thinks the world revolves around him. We moved to this godsforsaken place because he was tired of Greece. Shit, we wouldn’t have gone after Terroar at all if he hadn’t demanded vengeance. And now, because he doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants, I got ambushed. No, there isn’t a damn thing wrong with me. You should be telling him to get his head out his ass!”

  “You’re out of line, young one,” Crul said, his voice authoritative. He squared his shoulders, stood to his full six-foot six-inch height, growling in warning to both Anubi. “And for the record, we would’ve still gone after Terroar, regardless of whether Fury wanted us to or not. What was done to Fury was done to all of us.”

  “No, let him continue.” Fury paced the small area between the bed and the door as he unknowingly reached for Stormy’s mind. “I’m one second off his ass.”

  “Only one?” Fury normally found Crul’s humorless comments entertaining, but now it gnawed at his last nerve.

  “Screw you,” Hatrid growled, pushing up into a seated position. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed to his feet. “Terroar sent you a message. When he comes for his brother, he’s leaving with your head and your bitch.” Hatrid spat a wad of bloody spittle at Fury’s feet—the ultimate insult. “Deal with that, you selfish bastard.”

  Fury’s jaw clenched as tiny little drummer men marched through his jugular vein. He stalked up to Hatrid until they were nose-to-nose, brow-to-brow. His nails elongated, digging into the skin of his palms as his fists clenched. “Tell me I’m im
agining things when I read the pleasure you see in Terroar’s promise, Hatrid. Tell me I’m delusional.” It was whispered low, a promise of death.

  Hatrid glared back at Fury unbending, fire blazing within his dark irises. “If I told you that, I would be lying.”

  Before Hatrid’s head could be taken clean off, Crul forced himself between them again, pushing Fury back and shoving Hatrid into the wall. “We don’t do this,” he declared. “We don’t fight amongst ourselves.” He glared from one Anubi to the other and back. “This nonsense stops now.”

  Fury turned from Crul and Hatrid with a growl of rage, his fist connecting and fracturing the treated logs that made up the walls of the room. He closed his eyes, inhaled again deeply, and relished the scent of his and Ambrosia’s sex that still clung to his body.

  When he had decided to take Luzivius, he hadn’t planned on meeting his chosen in the same night. Now, based on Terroar’s promise, it appeared he’d not only drawn him out, but he’d gotten Ambrosia mixed up in his mess too. He didn’t think for a moment he would lose to Terroar, but the fight when it came would not be a fast or easy one.

  He and Terroar had trained together for far too many centuries. Each knew the other’s tricks and abilities. They were matched in height and weight, and neither one knew the meaning of backing down or giving up. Not only that, but their elemental powers negated one another when used properly. Terroar controlled ice like a chef swung a meat cleaver. Put that with Fury’s blistering fires of Hell, and one was left with steam that could melt the skin off of a human and peel the bark off a tree.

  “How does Terroar know of Fury’s chosen?”

  Fury turned, finding the answer to Crul’s question worthy of his undivided attention. “How?”

  Hatrid leaned back against the wall and glowered between his two older brothers. “While he was ripping my arm off, I guess it might have slipped out. I don’t fucking know how he knows!”

  “You jealous little shit,” Fury hissed, reaching around Crul to grasp at the front of Hatrid’s shirt.

  Crul shoved Fury back and raked his fingers through his hair as he scowled at Hatrid. “What the hell were you thinking?” Crul turned on Fury. “And you stand down.”

  “I was probably thinking about saving my ass, since my backup was off getting fucked,” Hatrid spat, his eyes narrowed and his canines lengthening.

  “You son of a bitch.”

  Hatrid squared his shoulders as best he could with one being injured. “Wrong, a bitch had nothing to do with my creation.”

  “Stop the bullshit,” Crul bellowed. “The last thing we need is for the two of you to be at each other’s throats over something none of us has any control over.” He looked back at Fury, and then turned his attention back to the younger Anubi. “Hatrid, you were wrong to speak of Fury’s binding. You’ve not only put Fury at risk, but you’ve brought danger to a human woman we’ve sworn to protect. Your actions are unforgivable.”

  “I didn’t put Fury or that bitch at risk. He did that shit himself when he decided he couldn’t let go of the past.”

  “You coward,” Fury roared, “What the hell was I supposed to do, let that prick walk around with his head high after what he did?”

  “We were put here to protect Anubis’s lineage. That’s it.” Hatrid sagged momentarily and then righted himself. “If it hadn’t been for her—”

  “Enough,” Crul interrupted. He walked up to Hatrid, laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “We’ve been a small pack for so long that when change happens it’s difficult to accept.” Hatrid rolled his eyes, but didn’t interrupt. “Stormy is one of us, regardless of whether she agrees to it or not. She is your sister-kin. You cannot continue to speak or think of her in such a negative manner. I didn’t accept this behavior from Fury and I won’t accept it from you, Hatrid. So, I suggest you straighten yourself out before you force my hand as your Alpha.”

  Hatrid pushed away from him and asked Fury, his tone as sour as a ripe lime, “When I was calling for you, why you didn’t answer?”

  “You didn’t call me,” Fury snapped, “Had you, no matter what I was doing, I would’ve come to your aid. Especially for something like this.”

  “I called for you,” Hatrid declared with vehemence, stomping around Crul. “While that prick was trying to eviscerate me, I used every drop of power I had left to reach out to you, but you weren’t there.”

  “Why didn’t you call to me?” Crul interjected.

  Without looking back at him, Hatrid responded, “Because he’s supposed to have my back no matter what.” He dissolved into barely there molecules before anyone could say or do a thing to stop him and seeped through a small crack in the window frame and out into the night.

  “Was I this bad when you found Tempest?” Fury turned to stare out the window Hatrid exited through.

  “You were worse, but with you I knew what to expect. With Hatrid, I just don’t know.” Crul exhaled heavily. “Maybe we’re just a selfish, possessive bunch of assholes who take to change like fish take to land.”

  “I don’t give a shit what it is; Hatrid had better come to his damn senses before I’m forced to beat him to within an inch of his life, allow him to heal, and then beat his ass again.”

  “We can always hope, but if he doesn’t…” Crul stepped next to Fury as he allowed his statement to trail off, his hands shoved deep within the pockets of his slacks. With his broad shoulders and block-shaped head, he resembled a Rottweiler in looks as well as temper. All in all, he was a formidable adversary in every sense of the word. “What’s her power?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I get the impression she’s a Seer. Based on the memories I viewed about her family, she had premonitions before each of their deaths.” Fury shrugged his shoulders and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “She doesn’t understand it any more than I do, but I think within a day or so, if I’m correct, we should see it begin to develop more.”

  “I’ll take that to mean you’ve begun the imprinting?”

  With another shrug, Fury replied, “She didn’t leave me any other choice.”

  Lips pressed tight, Crul turned to face Fury. “Did you learn nothing from Tempest and me?”

  “At least I didn’t tie her to my bed for three days.”

  Crul snorted and looked away from Fury as he fidgeted with something metal in his pocket. “Sometimes I think Anubis was a sadist. Women who we know nothing of are able to bind us with the mere utterance of eight words, and we’re left with no other choice but to chase them and make them understand and accept us.”

  “What’s worse is they don’t remember saying the words until after all the begging and chasing is done.” Fury rubbed his neck again as if he could chase away the agitation racing through his body. “Knowing what you know now, would you have done anything different?”

  A frown slipped over Crul’s face as his head dipped once to the right. “I can’t say that I would.” He chuckled. “But don’t tell Tempest that.”

  “Somehow, I think she already knows.” Fury chuckled as well and turned to the door, but stopped. “What are we going to do about Hatrid?”

  “Nothing. He’s angry and confused right now. Give him time. Besides, if you came around after trying to decapitate Tempest, I’m sure he’ll come around as well.” A moment of silence passed, before Crul said, “Bludjun, the pack leader down in Texas, has reached out. He’s having some trouble with some Yazaron and asked for assistance. Since we have things up here pretty much under control, I was thinking about giving Hatrid the option of going. Temporarily, of course.”

  Fury didn’t like the idea of Hatrid being anywhere but with them, but what could he say? Crul was their pack leader, and if he thought it was best then it was a call he would make. “I thought there were two packs down South. Why would they need help from us? We’re already spread thin as it is.”

  “There were two, but Bolt’s pack pulled out a few months ago, heading to Amsterdam. Since t
hen there’s been a rise in disappearances of potential chosen mates in Texas. Bludjun’s pack is doing all they can, but any extra help they can get…” He left his statement open.

  Fury scratched at the side of his head. “These damn Yazaron are like rodents. No matter how many we kill, they seem to keep multiplying.”

  “How are you going to handle Terroar?” Crul asked, changing the subject as they walked out the room together.

  “Do you plan on releasing his degenerate brother to him?”

  “Can’t say that I do.”

  “Well, once I’m certain of Ambrosia’s acceptance, I’ll have no choice but to hunt him down and finish him. This cat-and-mouse game has been going on long enough.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The bedroom Tempest escorted Stormy to was several times larger than any motel room she’d ever stayed in. It took up half of what was the third floor of the house, and had two sets of balcony doors that opened up onto a wraparound porch. A large platform bed sat prominently in the middle of the room. On the wall directly across from the bed was a large flat screen television that made Stormy salivate just a little. Twenty or so candles were scattered about the room, sitting high on small wooden stakes that protruded from brackets in the beautiful log walls.

  Like Fury’s home, which she now understood was definitely in walking distance to Tempest’s home via an unmarked path, this house looked like an oversized log cabin placed purposefully in the middle of nowhere.

  She turned in a slow circle as she took in the curtainless windows to her right and her left. Her bare feet sunk into the soft, plush fibers of the Oriental rug, and the smell of jasmine and cherry blossoms lulled her into a false sense of peace.

  I have to get out of here. She shook her head and turned her attention to the woman, Tempest, who had pulled her away from Fury. Her dark hair, honey-colored eyes, rosebud lips, and high cheekbones made her seem carved out of a man-made mold for perfection.