Broken Bones Read online

  “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to come. I could have handled this, you know,” he mumbled against Jeremiah’s shoulder. His father’s shoulders were mountainous, as hard as granite. They always supported him. Dan rubbed his cheek into the soft comfort of his shirt, soaked in his scent. One of the reasons he was easily accepted into the pack, beyond the fact that his mother was married to the Alpha, was Dan’s almost desperate need for touch. Touch was what brought the pack together. Like the strands of a caterpillar’s silk, it bolstered them, kept them safe. A hug could do so much to overcome the chill in Dan’s mind.

  “Danny, it is not a question of your handling this. It has never been. It is allowing this family, your family, to be there for you. When will you learn, pup, that it is alright to let us shoulder you? I am Alpha, and I do nothing alone. Even I, leader of my people, can do nothing without aid, without Kristoff’s existence.” As if he could sense him near, Jeremiah jutted his chin in his Beta’s direction. “Without Conner. We all need someone. Come. Sit with me.” His father moved to a lounger broad enough to hold the two of them. Jeremiah needed the space; his body was wide and supremely built. The fates created the Alphas to be the most agile, the most massive. Jeremiah was that. He expanded his frame so his son could move into the protection of his arms. His body was warm, always several degrees warmer than Dan or any other. It had to be something in the wolf’s genetic makeup that protected them.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just….”

  Jeremiah waited while Dan took the time he needed to find the trail of his thoughts.

  “When I was a child, a child of a human, you took me in. Yes, I know it was because of my mother, but you made me a part of your family, a part of the Iroquois Pack. Each member—male, female, even the little ones, the pups—are formidable. They can fight. They are trained for battle. Why not me, Father? I have to wonder if sometimes you or Conner see me as weak, and haven’t I proven it by the way I let Keith destroy me?”

  “Weak, Danny? I have never seen you as weak, my son,” Jeremiah’s burr rumbled against the top of his head. “When you decided you wanted to teach in the world rather than within the pack, pressing your case about gaining a foothold in the human environment, you showed your strength. I said no at first. Your argument? Do you remember it?” he questioned.

  Dan’s lips formed a slow smile as he recalled their talk. “Yes. I said it didn’t make much sense trying to keep me out of the world of humans when I was human, too.” Jeremiah had wanted him to stay and teach on the pack’s territory while Dan felt he would have been of greater use out where he could educate the children of those who believed the nightmarish stories of his people to be true. Dan wanted to take the fairy tale with their big bad wolf and turn it on its ear. One day, more would know of their pack, and if the day should come when they would be introduced wholly into the human world, he wanted the seed of truth already planted. He had said as much to him, and after a time, Jeremiah agreed to allow him to do it.

  “I see you do. Was I wrong in permitting you to live out there, Danny? Should I have kept you at home, here within these walls, boy, when you wanted so deeply to see over them?” Jeremiah’s eyes took in the gardens, his mate’s gardens, as he held his son close to his heart and let him burrow into his chest.

  “No, you were not wrong.” Dan sighed. “You wanted to allow me a chance to prove myself, make up my own mind.” His gaze followed the bees buzzing through flowers, eager to carry out their mission just as he had done those years ago.

  “And you have been all of your life, Danny Boy. When you came to me, told me why Sarai brought you here to Louisville, wanted me to know exactly why Matthew Curry tried to take you from her, almost killed you, your head was held high. You were proud, shaking and nervous, trembling in fear of what I would do, of what our people would do, but you refused to back down. I knew then you were my hairless pup, my son.” The pride, the sun that blazed in Jeremiah’s words as he reflected on that day, glowed in his eyes. His face was resplendent in its pleasure as he spoke.

  “I’ll not let anyone take that from me, from us.” Jeremiah placed his finger under Dan’s chin and lifted it so he could look deep into his eyes. “I have never lost faith in you, child. I am and will always be a light for you when you have lost your way. Right now, the path is dark and you are afraid. Afraid of going forward, of moving beyond our walls, of Keith, of trusting another to care for you.” A kiss to his brow. “I am here. We are here. We will love you, support you, never fail to protect you again. It is our duty. It is my duty. Do you understand, Danny? It means much that you would allow me to help you, allow your brother to help you. Give us your pain and allow us to aid you as you heal, pup. You tear at the silk binding us when you do not.” Jeremiah waited for Dan’s response. As Conner and Dan had grown, Jeremiah Tolliver had never rushed them on their journey to self-discovery. So Dan knew he would wait until he was ready to take the next step. Dan laid his head back against his father’s broad chest and sighed.

  “Let it go, boy. This time, let it go. We will hold it for you. We will take care of this Keith, he will not hurt you again, and we will help you begin anew.”

  And there lay the problem. Dan was scared. Physically, he was past the damage, but the emotional scarring cornered him, so much a debilitating factor that he feared leaving his father’s home, moving beyond those walls. A trip to the local Heine Brothers for a mocha latte with Shelly would be nice, or to see the latest vengeful spy movie, but he couldn’t. If he saw Keith out there? He wasn’t sure what it was, but could he resist if Keith told him to go home? Keith had claws that sank deep into his soul, where broken bones lay scattered, along with his spirit, and they ripped away at his self-esteem daily and rent his flesh, leaving nothing but despair.

  Dan had gone from a man who danced before his floor-length mirror—definitely where no one else could see—swaying his hips back and forth, screaming the lyrics to “Roar” along with Katy Perry, and shaking the ass his daddy gave him, to a man crouching in a corner, hiding in the dark. He didn’t want to go back to his own personal hell, but when Keith was there, when he looked at him, it was like he was in a daze. He couldn’t think for himself. How could he explain it to his father, to Conner, or Shelly when he could not even explain it to himself? He didn’t know what was wrong, and he wasn’t going out there until he did.

  “I’m scared, Father. I…. There’s something within me that answers him, a connection he latches on to and won’t let go.” Dan paused. “I dream about him, and in my dreams, he becomes something else, a force that hurts me. He changes. It’s like he’s a monster, a demon, and he tears me into pieces. If it is as bad as it is in my dreams, how much worse will it be for me out there? I can’t. He can make me do things, feel things. I don’t know. I’m scared.” Dan’s words were whispers, vapors that hung in the air, spoken quickly. Afraid if he talked about it, talked about those dreams that left him physically drained when he awoke, then just like the Candyman, they would come back to haunt him, just as real and just as terrible. Hell, he was already seeing Dr. Kavanagh in the daytime. Who’s to say his subconscious wouldn’t make Keith materialize as well?

  “Dreams,” Jeremiah said. “What happens in the dreams, Danny? Share them with me. Maybe if you opened up about what you are experiencing, pup, shared what tortures your mind so, there would be an ease to this misery.”

  By then Dan had had enough. He left Jeremiah’s arms and stood. “Father, I don’t want to take you from the hunt. I’m glad you came to talk to me. Please forgive me, but I think I need a moment to myself.”

  Jeremiah rose as well, sighed, and placed both of his giant hands on Dan’s shoulders. Even they were heavy, but Dan welcomed the weight.

  In the doorway, Kristoff stepped forward, arms folded, posture stiff and at ready. He nodded toward Dan, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

  “I am almost ready, Kristoff,” Jeremiah said and then returned his attention to Dan, “This is not finished.
You are right that I must make preparations, but this is not finished. I want to know about these dreams. Dreams are a tie between worlds, and I want to know what world you are in that harm may come to you. For now, rest. Let not your brother, your deirfiúr, Mrs. Dunham, or even me pressure you. Trust yourself, pup.”

  Kristoff spoke. “Alpha. You are needed.”

  Jeremiah smiled ruefully, grasped Dan’s ear, then bent and kissed his forehead. “For a change, why not take a walk in the gardens, son? A little exercise. There are guards around. They will not disturb you, as I know your need for privacy, but I have need of your safety. I will see you tomorrow when the sun rises if you have need of me. Kristoff….” Jeremiah left, Kristoff echoing his passage.

  CHAPTER 8

  DAN WALKED among the gardens. Roses were everywhere. His mother’s favorites had always been yellow roses, so the garden was brilliantly arrayed in canary blooms. Dan smiled sadly. His father took such great care to surround himself with things, with scents, his mother had always loved. Dan missed his mother, but as the years had gone by, he was beginning to forget the way she looked, the way she smelled. Often, though, the way he held his hands, his inflections? They were all Sarai. No matter, it was time for his father to move on. The pack was beginning to whisper. They needed to see their Alpha partnered, complete. His sons did too. Even Shelly had offered to at least find his father a date. “A guy or a gal?” she had asked one day when his father left the room during a visit. “Whoever, that man needs some loving.”

  Dan honestly didn’t know what or who his father needed, but it was time for someone, regardless of the packaging.

  Being gay among the wolves wasn’t a thing, wasn’t the big travesty Matthew had believed. Wolves believed in allowing the fates to determine their mate, the children that would be born, blessed with talents or even the destiny that would unfold. They did not believe the fates forced an individual to choose the wrapping in which his or her mate would be gifted. While in the human world, men and women strove to live in little imaginary boxes built by society, the pack existed for itself and thrived upon its unified force, a force that would not be torn apart by what was considered “man’s ignorance.” Dan was wolf, hair or no, two legs or four, and that was all that mattered. Whoever the fates chose for him would be accepted. The same for the Alpha or for any member of the pack.

  Coming to his favorite section of the gardens, he decided to rest a bit, maybe just sit on the grass. The ground was a little damp, the soft drizzle from early morning still coating it. It wasn’t much, though, which left Dan free to lay back, his hands cradling his head as he looked above.

  Cold, dreadfully cold. Chilled to the bones cold. He knew the voice, knew its highs and its lows, but he didn’t want to answer it, didn’t want to see who called him so quietly, the susurrus whispers accompanying creating shudders along his frame.

  “I know you hear me, coimeádaí.”

  Dan’s eyes snapped open. No longer outside cushioned by blades of grass. Nowhere. He was in a void. He looked up and hurriedly scrambled backward, seeking someplace to take shelter from whatever had brought him here.

  It was back. The creature was back with its horribly twisted smile.

  “I have you,” it sang, licking its forked tongue across sharp teeth, teeth wickedly shaped like tiny daggers. “You hide, little keeper. You try. I will find you.” It hissed, the tongue flicking out from its lips. Where at first it had kneeled, it now stood, its height towering, its stance threatening as it reached forward to where Dan crouched.

  “No, please, Goddess, no. Don’t touch me. Please.” Let me wake up. Oh, let me wake up. Please.

  The creature laughed, its voice echoing in the emptiness closing in on Dan. Closer now, it would be on him soon. Dan closed his eyes, prayed to wake up. He projected his thoughts, his fears out to his father. He knew the hunt would be a distance from the home, but Jeremiah never broke his connection with his family. But would Jeremiah even hear him when he himself couldn’t leave the shackles of his mind?

  A supernova of light exploded, gorgeous in its fiery hues. Fulgent orange, sparkling reds, then finally a blue that morphed into a nearly blinding white incandescence. It streamed between Dan’s eyelashes, compelling him to open them completely. He spun, looking for signs of the creature or even the demon that called him coimeádaí, the monster that robbed him of his dreams and tortured him with its nightmares. And he was there, just beyond that light. They weren’t alone, though. There was another, a recognized presence almost like a particular signature.

  “Fág dó féin, deartháir,” the voice from the light warned, powerful and clear. The glow that shone around the being pulsed with its words, the vibration a purr along Dan’s skin.

  “Call me not brother,” the creature growled at the light. “I would have the keeper.” The creature’s voice—Dan would recognize the voice anywhere. Terrible and distorted, it was a hideous transformation of Keith’s baritone, its intonation familiar through the monster’s snarl. The creature, the beast that chased him when he closed his eyes to rest, hunted him when he awoke, was a twin spirit to the monster in his life.

  “You are my brother. You are all my brothers, and I have given my word to protect this one. He is not yours,” said the other.

  “And is he yours, fhaireoir?” The gruesome grin as its open maw revealed its teeth propelled Dan back. The creature paced the shadowy fringes, continued to peer around the light, around Dan’s protector, its gaze roving all over Dan.

  “Deartháir, don’t make this a war between us. Let us enjoy the time we have in this realm and move on. You use your time here unwisely. This boy—”

  Boy? At twenty-eight, Dan was no boy. He was a man. Though, hiding in the corner didn’t make him much of one while he watched the strangest conversation he had ever seen in his own head. He felt an awareness then, a caress within his mind, reassurance, and it steadied him, smoothed the jagged edges of his dismay.

  “—this boy has been wronged by you. He is not your coimeádaí.”

  “Fuck you! You are not my deartháir. I possessed him, owned him long before you ever knew of his presence, of the power in his wasted husk. He has ridden my cock, swallowed my leavings, and begged for life at my heel. He will keep me in this realm long after you have left.” The world rolled as the creature laughed derisively. “You have already begun to fade. Do you not see it? I do. Others will. How can you protect this chosen if you are no longer here, fhaireoir?” The creature snorted. “I will not leave this realm, and I will reclaim the man to whom you gave your false promise.” Twilight lifted as the creature’s words puffed particles of ice into the air. “I will leave for now, brother,” it ground out disdainfully, “but make no mistake. He is mine. I can wait. It is but a moment before you disappear and are as nothing.” And then it was gone. White light dimmed, its brilliance fading as Dan heard “rest” partnered with a delicate kiss against his lips.

  DAN AWOKE on the grass, the sun down and his skin chilled. Shaking, he rose and hugged himself tightly, thankful to be free of both the monster and the being of the light, to be the only one in his head. He turned to see several wolves barreling toward him. He recognized his father, his brother, and Kristoff. He knew a few of the others—Pietre, Mikail, and Violet. They were upon him, checking the area, seeking the threat to their pack. His father’s wolf stood next to him, scented him. Dan’s shaking had not subsided by the time all were with him. Off balance, he reached out his hand to Jeremiah, assuring him as much as he could of his safety, that he had not been harmed. Conner waited until given permission before he, too, sought assurance. Weak, Dan fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around his father, and wept.

  CHAPTER 9

  A WET, soggy rag. That’s what he felt like. Tired, his eyes gritty from dried tears, and not entirely sure of what wakened him. Though, as he listened, it could have been the loud whispers he heard coming from outside his door. Often, the house carried the noises of people moving to and fro, handli
ng one responsibility or another. The eerie quiet only interrupted by a nervous whisper here or there made him uncomfortable, and Dan was certain it had everything to do with him.

  When Jeremiah had led Dan, Conner, and the sentries back to his bedroom, he could do nothing but fall into an exhausted sleep. Conner had remained with him in wolf form, had circled his body around his, sheltering him as he slept. He didn’t sing, didn’t hum his song to him, but his heavy panting was enough to erase Dan’s body’s restlessness. Jeremiah, after ensuring his comfort, had left him and Conner there, curtains open to allow the moon in to kiss Dan as he slept. Just as much as his wolves did, Dan found sanctuary in the light of the Goddess Moon. He opened himself to her light, and his spirit was embraced. The night before he had been thirsty, and his body eagerly drank in the safety of her moon. There were no creatures with obsidian eyes and forked tongues or bright, comforting illumination wielding its voice like a weapon. Just the auburn-colored fur of his brother’s wolf and the sweet kiss of the moon. And, for that moment at least, Dan was safe.

  He couldn’t get away from the tension on the other side of the door. Reaching next to him, he found Conner’s place cold and empty. So that identified the owner of the rumbling burr. The other? Not so much. Shelly? No, it didn’t sound female. Was definitely a man’s voice and vaguely familiar. The cadence, the lilt in the words, drifted over his body like pinpricks of heated awareness.

  Dan dropped his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the floor. He was naked, so either Conner had switched to his two-legged form and stripped him while he slept, or one of Father’s people had. So, it was a naked Dan that faced the advance of Dr. Kavanagh as he threw the door open and strode into the room.