Storm's Fury Read online

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  With the information from Ambrosia, this should make it a little easier to protect the potentials, Fury said to Crul via their mental link.

  Yes, it should. I plan on meeting with the other pack heads later this week to sort through everything you’ve told me and to see if there’s anything new on their ends. We really should be able to use this to our benefit.

  Fury handed the dark-haired woman behind the counter of the fashion boutique four necklaces of varying types of metals and colored gems. I guess that’s it then. I’ll touch base with you later.

  You know it’s not your fault.

  I never said it was.

  No…no, I suppose you didn’t, but just know that we would have an easier chance of trying to catch each rain drop as it falls from the heavens than we would trying to stop every single killing. Our job is to protect as many descendants as possible, and that, my brother, is all we can do.

  I know that. Fury was quiet before he admitted, But she’s suffered so much, Crul. She tries to be brave, to act as if it hasn’t taken a toll on her, but it sits upon her like the weight of the world. He sighed. And I will admit that it has crossed my mind, that maybe if I was there…

  Don’t do that, Crul admonished. We all suffer for our rewards, you know this. If we didn’t and we’re given our blessing without truly deserving them, there is no appreciation.

  Fury sat in the oversized plush chair facing the dressing room as he sipped from the complimentary bottle of Bling H2O. I will catch the Yazaron responsible, and I’ll kill him.

  I have no doubt that you will, but don’t become careless in your search for vengeance, Fury.

  Not something I plan on doing, but—

  But nothing. Be careful. It was an order. You have more to live for now than you ever have had before.

  I know.

  Stormy pushed through the swinging doors of her dressing room and stepped to the three-way mirror. Smoothing her hands down over her hips, she tugged at the material of the red babydoll T-shirt she was trying on. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

  “Do you like it?” Fury pushed to his feet. The outfit she was trying on was one he’d picked out. He crossed the distance and stood close behind her, but did not allow himself to touch her. “I think it fits you perfectly.”

  “These jeans look painted on.” Stormy stuck out her butt, brushing it against his groin while she ran her hand down over the label and frowned at his reflection in the mirror.

  “I’m not complaining.” Fury’s hands went to her hips, and he pulled her back against his chest. “It looks good on you.” He kissed her temple and then trailed little kisses down her neck. “We could sneak back into the dressing room and I could show you just how good you look in—and out of—it.”

  Stormy leaned into him and moaned low. “You’re so bad.”

  “Only with you.” He eyed her up and down one last time via the mirror. “Do you see anything else you like?”

  It only took her a moment to take in the store one more time before she dipped her head and whispered, “No. I’m good.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Releasing Stormy, Fury motioned to the saleswoman, who was so put together he felt that if she smiled at them her face would crack. “We’ll take this outfit she has on and another one like it, but in different colors, her choice.”

  “Of course, sir,” the saleswoman answered as she skirted around the counter and started toward them.

  “Fury, you don’t have to do this. I have money.” She leaned in to whisper, “I don’t know how it fell out of my bag, but if you do that little flash thingy and get us back to Peru, I can pay for my stuff myself.”

  “So you’ve been telling me since we left Houston. And like I’ve been telling you, as long as you’re with me, your money has no value.” He wanted to buy her any and everything her heart desired, and what better time than when they were in the middle of a quick zip across the country? Now all she had to do was shut up and accept what he was offering.

  Was he really asking too much?

  Stormy rolled her eyes, huffed indignantly and tried again. “I—”

  Fury shushed her with a flippant wave of his hand. “Unless the next words out of that pretty little mouth of yours are ‘Where to next?’ I don’t want to hear it.”

  Eyes narrowed dangerously, she stomped back into her dressing room without another word, making sure that the sound of the slamming door was not lost on the people passing by on the sidewalk.

  Turning his attention back to his older brother, Fury said, Our next stop is going to be New York. We’ll probably spend the night there, so count on us being back at the compound tomorrow sometime.

  I’ll inform Tempest. And Fury, congratulations.

  Don’t congratulate me just yet, brother. She’s much closer to coming fully over to our side, but I still sense hesitation in her. However, it does give me hope and something to look forward to.

  I understand. Walk with Anubis, young one.

  Always, Fury replied and then severed the link.

  Stormy strolled out of the dressing room a few minutes later and sidled up to him. “I’m ready,” she said quietly and so unlike herself that it gave him pause.

  She started around him, but Fury grasped her arm and pulled her back to him. “What’s wrong, love?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “And you’re nosey,” she snapped. “Can we go now?”

  Fury released her reluctantly and followed her to the register near the front entrance. After paying for the clothes, some accessories he’d picked out, a pair of boots she kept eyeing, and a pair of purple platform pumps, he took the bags and exited the store behind her.

  “Where to now?” Stormy scanned the sidewalk up and down three times, but seemed unable to look at him.

  “You can’t seriously be upset at me for trying to take care of you.” He switched her bags to one hand and slipped his free arm around her waist so that he could pull her into the safety of his arms. “I’m only doing what any Anubi in my situation would. Surely, you see that.”

  She fought him momentarily, but soon relaxed into him. With a shake of her head, she reluctantly slipped her arm around his waist. “Deep down I know that, Fury. But it’s so hard to accept. Does that make any sense at all?”

  He smiled down at her. “It actually does. You’ve been on your own for so long, you’re not used to being taken care of or trusting anyone.”

  She nodded slowly. “Silly, huh?”

  “Not at all.” He kissed the crown of her head. “In time you will get used to it, Ambrosia. I promise you that.”

  They walked in silence for two blocks before Stormy broke it. “Can I have five dollars?” She sounded like a child asking her father for money, but expecting to hear the answer no.

  “For what?”

  “What do people do with money? I want to buy something,” she said as she pointed to the shop twenty-five feet down the sidewalk. Stormy smiled up at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. That made him reach into his pocket and retrieve what she asked for. Taking it, she told him, “Wait right here, okay? Don’t come in, Fury, I mean it.”

  “Are you trying to get another head start?” he asked, only half-joking.

  “Just stay here.”

  “Since you ordered so nicely,” he replied as she turned and within seconds disappeared into the store.

  I thought Tempest said women loved shopping. If I knew it was going to make her sad, I would’ve handed her a damn catalogue. Fury shook his head and shoved his free hand deep into his pocket as he leaned back against the brick wall behind him.

  The scent of day-old semen and dried urine hit him first. When he looked up, pinpointing the smell, he saw the woman in her full glory with her too-small dingy lime green leotard and twisted pink wig. She was strutting up the sidewalk accosting every male and female she came in contac
t with.

  “Hey baby,” she was saying, her voice sounding like an oil-deprived machine. “Twenty bucks for a blow job.” She winked and pushed her dentures forward about a half of an inch and sucked them back into place, and then she called to a woman crossing the street, “I don’t discriminate, honey, I lick it too.”

  Her lesion-riddled skin stretched tight over her skull, reminding him of a Yazaron. Had she been male, he would’ve punched a hole through her chest and crushed her heart without a moment’s hesitation. But as it were, her situation only made him feel sorry for her and thankful that he’d found Stormy when he did.

  He pushed off the wall as she made it to him and cut her off before she could begin her spew. “No, thank you. Take this—” he pulled several large bills off a wad of cash he was carrying and handed it to her “—and find yourself someplace safe and warm for the next few nights. I hear it’s going to be pretty chilly out.”

  She took the cash as he knew she would, but before she could say anything more, he turned from her and started away, understanding for the first time exactly why Anubis chose now to give him his gift.

  Moments later, Stormy was back at his side, and Fury was kissing her and thanking Anubis that he had found her when he did.

  “Where to now?” she asked as he turned and led her down the sidewalk and into an alley.

  Fury pulled her close. “We’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

  Stormy slipped into the plush black robe Fury had laid out for her, and then wrapped a towel around her wet hair. Pulling open the bathroom door, she stepped into the living room and came to an abrupt stop.

  “Wow.” The room was lit with soft candlelight. “Wow,” she murmured again, pulling the bathroom door closed behind her. “When the hell did he have time to do this?”

  “How was your bath?” Fury asked, stepping in off the sixty-fifth story balcony. His chest and feet were bare, and his jeans were riding low on his hips. It seemed like his preferred manner of dress—not that she was complaining.

  “It was good.” She stepped around the white art deco couch and to the wet bar. “So this is one of Tempest and Crul’s homes?” she asked, popping open a bottle of distilled water.

  “It is. Crul bought this place for her a few decades ago, because she has family here who she likes to check on from time to time.”

  “I see.” She dipped her head and took a sip of water.

  “Did you try the dress on?”

  “I didn’t need to. I can tell it will fit, by just looking at it.”

  “Are you sure? Then again if it doesn’t, we can always come back and exchange it.”

  He really enjoys shopping, she thought with a nod of her head. I never would’ve guessed.

  Once they’d arrived in New York, their first stop had been a boutique in Nolita, a section of town she’d only dreamed about shopping in. There, he bought her several different styles of dresses and even a few pant suits—as if she really had anywhere to wear those. After that, he’d whisked her away to 5th Avenue to a boutique owned by a friend of his. And then it was off to SoHo, where he tried to buy her every pair of shoes she glanced at. In a day’s time, he’d taken her to every shopping mecca within the United States: Florida, Texas, California, and New York.

  He’s treating me like a queen. Like I really deserve all of this. Stormy felt the tear before it slipped over her lower eyelid, and tried to wipe at it.

  She was too slow.

  Fury caught it with his forefinger, brought it to his lips and tasted it. “Explain.”

  “I-I…” She stumbled back away from him, ashamed and appalled at her own of weaknesses. “I’m sorry.” She turned to run, but he caught her and pulled her back against his chest.

  “I’m going nowhere, Ambrosia. I’ll be right here. Until the end of eternity, I’ll be right here.”

  “I’m not ungrateful. I swear, I’m not,” she started, her shoulders trembling. “I just…I just don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. I-I…” Her knees gave out, and she nearly collapsed to the floor, but Fury held on to her. Turning her, he brought her into the safety of his arms. “It’s my fault, Fury. It’s my fault they’re dead. I don’t deserve to be shopping, or wearing the wonderful clothes that you’ve bought me. I don’t deserve to be staying here with you. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

  He brushed at her tears and moved to the couch, her body locked within his arms. “You deserve nothing less than happiness, because you’ve suffered so much. Don’t you see that?”

  “No,” she said vehemently as he settled down with her. “I killed them. It’s because of me that they’re dead, Fury.” Stormy pushed at his chest and when that didn’t work, pounded against it, trying to break the hold he had on her. “You said so yourself. It was my fault. You said…”

  “Love, that’s not what I meant. I would never accuse you of such a thing.”

  “But it’s the truth. Had I told them what I felt…if I had made them run with me instead of justifying it as anxiety, they would be here now,” she cried. “Momma would still be alive, Fury. Oh, oh God, I’d still…I’d still have my Iya. Iya would’ve understood me. She would’ve listened to me. If only I had said something.”

  Fury made her look at him. “You were ten, Ambrosia. You were a child and you had no one to tell you what you were feeling was any different from anxiety. What happened to Iya, your mother, and your aunt was not your fault.” He gazed down at her, his gray eyes begging her to listen to him. “If anyone is to blame”—a watery mist blurred her vision—“it’s me. I should have been there to take care of you and to teach you. I should have been there to protect them. So if one of us is to be at fault, it’s me. Not you.”

  “No.” She locked her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. “No. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known. You didn’t know I existed.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered. “But I’m here now.” He kissed the side of her neck, leaned away from her and kissed the underside of her chin. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making these losses up to you, my love.” He pulled the towel from her hair, dragged his fingers through her wet mane, and rested his forehead against hers. “Please don’t cry anymore. It breaks my heart.”

  Staring into his turbulent pain-filled eyes, Stormy knew without a moment’s hesitation that with him, she would find a new beginning, a chance to right the wrongs done against her. To perhaps create a new family, one she could protect.

  She leaned into Fury, kissed the corners of his mouth, and thumbed his nipples. She needed him as she had never needed another person in her life. And, even as he urged her back, opened her robe and kissed every inch of her naked body, Stormy still burned for more.

  She scratched at his back while he slipped thick inches deep inside of her heated sex, her body hungrily begging him to mend every broken heart she’d ever experienced. She sucked at his nipples, rolled her hips against his and bit into his skin, wanting desperately to become one with him. When he rolled her over onto her stomach, pulled her up onto her knees, and entered her, she rose up against him and tried to lose herself in sensations and colors the likes of which she’d never seen.

  Stormy twisted around and pushed him down before quickly straddling his hips. She rocked back and forth on top of him, grinding her hips down, taking so much of him there was no way to tell where either began or ended. As he sucked at her breasts, kissed his way back up her neck to her lips and devoured her tongue, it was like they had done this countless times before in a hundred different lives.

  There was a connection between them, one so strong and viable that she could almost taste it, see it, and hold it in her hands. She couldn’t explain it and at the moment, she didn’t care to.

  It was familiar and right, but still so new.

  They made love again and again and again, until she was too weak to think or move, and he too sated to coax her.

  After her heart settled and her body began to cool, Storm
y whispered, “Fury?”

  “Yes?” He shifted slightly, tightening his arms around her back and drawing her nakedness closer to his.

  She peered into his masculine face and brushed a few beads of sweat from his brow. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t ever have to thank me for making sweet love to you.” He cracked one eye open and gazed back at her. “It’s always my pleasure.”

  She giggled. “For saving me, you cocky bastard.”

  Fury snorted and rolled his eyes playfully. “I didn’t save you. You saved me. If you hadn’t come into my life when you did…” He let his statement trail off. “Just know that I will be forever indebted to you.”

  “I bought you something,” Stormy said, changing the subject. She reached down between the cushions where she’d shoved it when they had first gotten to the condo. “Close your eyes and make a fist.”

  “What are you up to? I’m not into beating up women.”

  Stormy slapped playfully at his chest. “Oh, just do it.” When he obliged, she stretched the material and slipped it over his fist and onto his wrist.

  Fury stared down at the indigo blue plastic bracelet settled snuggly around his wrist. One corner of his mouth turned up as he read the words etched into the plastic repeatedly, “Storm’s…Fury? You’re laying claim to me?”

  “No,” she denied quickly. He was about to say something else, but she cut him off, “I know it’s corny and probably a little juvenile, but you’ve done so much for me, I needed to do—”

  He cut her off with a kiss and then another one. “I’ll never take it off.”

  “When I was little, my dad—either on his way to being drunk or already stinking drunk—would show up at my mom’s house every now and then with bracelets similar to this. They’d say everything from Daddy’s Angel, to The Devil Made Me. Back then, I hated them because it was the only thing he really bought me, and they were like ninety-nine cents. I thought he was a cheap bastard at the time and I sort of hated him for it, you know? But when I saw these today, it reminded me of a time when things were so much simpler. When I didn’t have to run, or be afraid, when I had a family who protected me.” She looked up at him. “You make me feel that way again. Is that corny?”