Kelly Meding - Requiem for the Dead

"Lupa were made extinct for a reason, Evy, and when I was infected Elder Dane had every reason to have me executed. But he spared my life."

"Is Elder Dane taking shit for that?"

"According to Astrid, yes. Not all of the Elders agree that since I was human first I don't fall under their jurisdiction."

He looked so guilty that my heart ached. I swung a leg over his—the wounded leg, of course, which it reminded me of quite painfully—and settled my weight on his hips. He watched me, guarded. I put my hands on his bare chest and leaned down.

"Listen to me, Wyatt Truman," I said. "You were infected against your will. You survived the Lupa bite when everyone thought you were going to die. You are living with the changes and you are doing a remarkable job. Don't you dare ever feel guilty for living. Not ever."

I cupped his bearded cheeks in my palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "Your life was spared. Anyone who tries to come after you for any reason, Therian or otherwise, will have to kill me first. That's a promise."

He pulled me down into a hard kiss that lasted a little too long to end there. I slid back a few inches, reassuring myself that he was still hard. He made a noise that I answered with a well-placed rub of my hips. Fingers gripped my waist. His arm muscles tensed as he fought what was probably the very overwhelming urge to roll us over and claim me.

"I love you so much, Evy." His voice was a hoarse whisper that sent shivers through my belly and down my thighs.

"I love you too. All of you with all of me."

Another long, intense kiss like the first one, and I was scrambling in the bedside dresser for a condom. We didn't even shed all of our clothes. Just got his shorts down and my ruined jeans off, and then my body was sliding onto his, opening for him. The passion in his eyes swelled my heart to bursting. I leaned down to kiss him again as our bodies began to move together.

We existed in each other, in that moment, for as long as we could. In the last few months we'd learned to never take each other for granted or to take what we'd found together for granted. It could all be over in a flash—a lesson reinforced yesterday after our captivity. Every touch, every kiss, every ripple of pleasure we gave each other's body was treasured. Because as much as I wanted a forever with Wyatt, forever was not a guarantee, and I wanted no more regrets. Not with him.

Long after, we lay together in a tangled, messy, half-clothed heap, enjoying such a simple thing as holding each other. Sooner or later one of our phones would ring and remind us of the world outside those thin plaster walls. Until that happened, I held my lover close and dozed.

Wyatt went ahead of me to Operations. I lingered a little longer while showering because my hair was a tangled, matted mess and required some extra attention—and not for the first time, I gave serious thought to just cutting it short. Maybe some other time. Once it was clean and I was dressed, I twisted it up into a messy bun so it was out of the way.

I didn't need the crutch anymore, but I still had a slight limp as I headed down the corridor to Ops. The leg ached, and I suspected it would for the rest of the day until the wound was fully healed. Considering the bullet had been half an inch from hitting my femoral artery, I'd take the limp over being dead.

Halfway there, Kismet stepped out of the shadow of an unused storefront. I jumped back, startled to see her lurking there. "The hell, Gina?"

"I need to show you something." Her tone left no room for argument, and it tweaked my nerves a little bit.

"Okay."

"In here." She pushed open the storefront door.

I followed her inside. The windows were papered over, which allowed some residual light from the corridor. Enough to see by, anyway. The store was small, the floors bare and walls empty. I didn't see anything unusual until Kismet presented me with her phone.

"This was sent to me from your old phone," Kismet said. "The one Vale took from you yesterday."

Oh great. "You've watched it, I take it?"

"Yes." Her face was unreadable, but I knew without asking that I wasn't going to like whatever Vale sent.

I pressed Play. The black screen flashed to life, displaying two frighteningly familiar figures huddled together in the near-dark. Each had a wrist handcuffed to a chain, which was wrapped around a wooden support beam of some sort, and they both looked terrified.

"Son of a bitch," I said. Vale had Stephen and Lori Frost. Judging by the shadowed shape of a water heater in the background, they were in a basement somewhere.

The light source shining on them cut off, plunging the room into darkness. Lori screamed. Wood creaked. The video jumped to a bright close up of Vale's face, looking righteously pissed and a little bit smug. Fury tickled at the back of my mind, aimed right at the were-cat onscreen for all the hurt he'd already caused, and for dragging two more innocent people into this clusterfuck.

"I'm uncertain if I should call you Evangeline or Chalice," Vale said. "Imagine my surprise when I saw your face on the news as a missing person, and imagine my further surprise when Mr. and Mrs. Frost willingly came here to meet me and speak with their daughter. They are far too trusting, and if you would like to see them alive again, call me back on this phone. You have until noon."

The video ended.

I didn't waste breath or energy expelling the dozen or so expletives roaring through my mind. I didn't even look at Kismet, who was hovering nearby. I hit redial, then put the call onto Speaker.

"You're prompt, Ms. Stone," Vale said. His voice sent cold fingers down my spine.

"You gave me a good incentive to call."

"Indeed. Are you alone?"

"Yes." I trusted Kismet to stay silent for this conversation. "Are you insane? There's a city full of Therians looking for you right now, and you're going to try and blackmail me with hostages?"

"Yes."

"What makes you think they mean anything to me? They aren't my parents."

"I've heard about your resurrection, and I'm not banking on a strong sense of daughterly duty. I'm banking on your training as a Triad Hunter. You protect innocents."

Dammit.

"If you don't want the Frosts hanging from chains like your Hunter friend, you'll pay close attention," Vale said, his voice darker. Angrier.

"I'm listening."

"Right now, Marcellus Dane is being challenged for the position of Pride Elder. Riley will, of course, answer the challenge in his place. I need you to ensure that the fight is lost."

I let loose a surprised snort before I could stop myself. "You can't be serious. I'm not Therian. The Pride won't let me anywhere near that fight."

Traditionally, challenges were fought in a similar manner as old-fashioned human duels. Both sides met in a neutral location, a thirty party—usually an Elder—was there to signal the start of the fight, and witnesses were there in the event that one fighter yielded before they were killed. Because the whole point was to kill the other person. I had no chance of successfully sabotaging Riley—no intention of trying, either.

Vale laughed. "Your perspective is too narrow, Ms. Stone, which proves how little you know about Pride politics."

If that was supposed to be an insult, it didn't deliver. Handling Pride politics was not my job. "So what is it you want from me exactly?"

"By Therian law, if the sitting Elder dies before the official challenge is answered, the position is open to Assembly control. The Assembly can hear nominations and vote on the replacement Elder."

"And let me guess? You have enough friends on the Assembly to get a good pal of yours nominated?"

"Nominated and voted into the position."