Fangs of Fate (Untish #1)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TATE

I opened my eyes, I was alive. My mahogany eyes slowly adjusted to the dark lighting. Rough, jagged grey blobs surrounded me. The ground I was on was hard, dirty. The gritty texture of the cliff dug into my bare skin—my clothes were long gone from shifting. Squinting, the grey shapes became rocks. I was on the cliff. The realization of what just happened hit me. Hard. I had breathed fire. Something had changed, but I wasn’t sure what exactly. What I did know was that I needed to talk to Fletch. He would have some answers, and that tight-lipped male would talk.

He would give me answers this time.

I stood and my head began to swim. Slow, I needed to take this slow.

Inhale. Exhale. Stand. I could do this.

Carefully, I began to rise until my feet were under me and the world stopped spinning. There, one step in the right direction. I located the brown satchel tucked into a small crevice in the stone and yanked it free, nearly losing my balance. I closed my eyes as I allowed my head to steady and the world to stop spinning. Slowly, the dizziness faded, and I pulled out a spare change of clothing I kept in the bag for exactly this reason. I grimaced as I realized I had been wearing one of my favorite shirts before shifting. Now it was gone…like so much in my life.

After stuffing the bag back into its hiding place, I slowly stepped into the black leggings and then pulled over the loose V-neck shirt. Its soft material was comforting, warming my now frenzied soul. I felt…better. I picked up my boots and stepped into them, sinching the laces tight before turning to climb the cliff.I lifted my gaze to the thirty-foot stone wall. It was in times like these that I wished I’d found a less remote place to shift, to hide.

It took me twenty minutes to make it to the top. It was a relatively short scale, and I fell three times. Three. Now my ass was sore in addition to the splitting migraine I was sporting. I reached the top just as the first drop of rain landed on my head. Great, I’d be wet and late when I finally made it back to Fletch. Curfew was hours ago—but what was another broken rule?

The path back to the Glenn was soothing, it acted as a good ‘cool down’ from my exercise in the sky. Especially now when my adrenaline was in overdrive.

A snap from behind had me looking over my shoulder and told me I may soon be wet for a whole different reason. I saw no one, nothing. The path was vacant as ever.

The forest was quiet aside from the calming symphony of the rain pelting the forest floor. Perhaps it was a rabbit. I began to continue forward when my back began to tingle—the air felt slightly different. I was no longer alone. I didn’t have to turn around to know who was behind me. I could always feel when he was here.

“Hello, Chance.”

He stood there with his arms folded across his chest. His black T-shirt’s sleeves boasted two insignias that highlighted his position in the guara: dux. Of course, he naturally wore the black cargo pants that were standard issue and had weapons strapped to his hips. Bulky, ugly, oppressive. Since the guara took over the justice system one hundred years ago, their uniforms hadn’t improved much.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing out here, Tate?” he spoke, voice dripping sex even as his body threatened violence.

“Nope,” I simply said and began to turn around only to be stopped by his hand at my shoulder. He was so damn fast. I had thought my gift of speed was fast, but it was nothing compared to his.

“Tate, I know you too well to believe you forgot about curfew and just happened to be traveling this path alone .” His blue eyes were piercing in a very uncomfortable way. I often felt they saw much more than I wished.

“You don’t know shit,” I spoke in calm succinct words. More venom laced my smile than honey.

He chuckled and lifted his other hand to cup my cheek, caressing my face slowly with his thumb.“You and I both know that’s not true. What were you doing out here? Were you looking for someone?”

The implication in his question was clear, as was my answer. Not him, never again.

“If I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you,” I snarled. “I’ve found that loyalty and intelligence are prerequisites for any form of intimacy.” I removed my face from his grasp. “So, as you can see, you do not fit that bill. Perhaps, I was looking for someone who could actually satisfy and offer a promising future; what, uh, what’s your du-arche’s name again?”

His eyes flared at last.

“I think you’ve forgotten how amiable I can be.’’ He leaned in, the scent of sea and mint was overwhelming. It was just as seductive as I remembered. “Try me, Tate, ask me for anything.”

Images of silken sheets, tan skin, and the warm embrace of bodies intertwined assaulted me. Pleasure pure and deep, better than anything else I’ve ever known; the comfort of his body holding mine, the familiarity in each movement?—

No, those times were over. Long over and would not come back.I took a step away.

“See, that’s what I thought. Tate, you used to be a fireball unafraid of any challenge, but now you are all bark and no bite,” he spoke, disappointment etched in every word. “Not to mention, you’re being stupid. Sneaking out past curfew, and on the night of a trial? What are you thinking?” His eyes intensified, concern and anger warring in them. He sucked on his one fang.

The act had my traitorous body responding with warmth spreading through my core.

“I don’t think you want to know what I’m thinking…” I muttered.

His eyes brightened a bit and I swear he was scenting the air. He inhaled deeply and remained frozen—a statue. My body acted on its own accord, and I ran a hand up his chest. Damn, he was built. His muscles contracted at my touch, and I could sense his pulse increasing. His eyes ignited, the glacier blue brightening with each stroke of my finger. I paused as our gazes locked, the power of the surf with the strength of redwoods—icy blue and mahogany.

Blue sea eyes beckoning me further, promising pleasure. Just like before. My breath quickened as I moved my gaze down to his mouth. It was inviting and his full lips twitched, curving up. This was a dumb idea. I was playing with fire and he knew it.

“Tate.” He grabbed my hand gently in his and pulled it away from his touch. “As much as I would like this, I think we both know you’re not ready.”

How dare he. I yanked my hand back as if his mere touch burned. He had no right to tell me what I could and couldn’t handle. If he thought he broke me, he was wrong. Damn wrong. I reacted.

I reached up and cupped the back of his neck pulling him down toward me and took his lips savagely.Oh, Blood Mother. This was a mistake. He tasted like home. Fire in my core ignited as his tongue swept in and began to devour me with equal savagery. I met him stroke for stroke, exploring every inch of his mouth. His hands moved down to my hip, and he cupped my butt along with the back of my shoulders. He lifted me up and pressed my back against a tree, pausing only a moment before he tilted my head back further and intensified the kiss. There was nothing gentle about it. It was a kiss that consumed.

I wrapped my legs around him and dug my fingers deeper into his hair, eliciting a groan from him. This was so much…so, so much. I could feel the length of him getting hard, the sheer size of it was intimidating and a reminder of everything I was missing. I could palm him, I wanted to, but the position I was in made it hard to do that. He broke the kiss and began to work his way down my neck, kissing and sucking as he went. His golden curls tickled my collarbone and offered the most salacious sensations.

My core began to ache with need. I wanted him…desperately. I needed him to fill every crevice, to make me sing. I wanted his length gliding inside me, the pleasant friction leading to a glorious release.

I moaned, begging for more. His fangs grazed the sensitive side of my neck, sending pure pleasure shooting through me. He met the mark on my neck, the lover’s mark he’d made when I was just seventeen. He wore a twin mark on the left side of his throat. We’d given them to each other back when we’d thought we were in love. Back when I trusted him, but that was before?—

The thought was enough to jar me from my sex stupor. I didn’t need him. Didn’t truly want him. No, this was Chance. This was the male whose father killed my mother in the name of justice for her supposed treason. The male who just killed a young boy in front of a room in an act of twisted violence that even magic repelled. No, this was not someone I would find pleasure with.

He found my mouth again and this time when his tongue swept in, I bit down. Hard. He pulled back with a yelp and dropped me at the same time. His blood dripped from my mouth, and I licked it up, slowly—watching him the entire time.

“Damn it, Tate! What the fuck was that?”

“Which fucking reason should I give you?” I practically shouted. Control, I needed to control my anger before I said something really stupid and ended up on the end of Collin’s court proceedings.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing. Just leave me alone. I’m not interested, OK? It may be hard for the great ‘Chance,’” I used air quotes, mocking him, “to understand, but not every female wants you in her pants. So why don’t you just turn around and head back to your buddies at the guara and go harass some other poor female?” I lifted my chin as I punctuated the last few words. “Maybe one who’s drunk or desperate enough to be satisfied by you .” I turned to leave but then he was in front of me.

“Not so fast, Tate.” He heaved, clearly trying to catch his breath. “You may be a good kisser, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction to make me forget my initial question. Why were you out here?”

The insufferable prick. Just like him to go from kissing to interrogating. Same mouth, very different expressions.

“I just wanted some space and air especially?—”

I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Especially what?” His gaze was relentless.

“After what your father did to that boy!”I spat in his face and tried to shove past him.

“That boy murdered one of our own and deserved his punishment,” Chance’s voice dropped to a lethal calm. It was a warning, and one I knew I should heed.

“Oh yes, with a punishment so cruel it’s only been publicly witnessed a dozen times in the past century and reserved for the worst of the worst. And by the way, how did a scrawny, barely developed boy take down a fully matured councilman? By all counts, council members are supposed to be the elite, the wisest and strongest of us; the most developed. And yet, somehow this boy killed him and instilled so much fear that Wayne was begging for death?” I was venturing into dangerous territory, and I knew it. But the image of the husk was still too fresh.

“You saw the memory. There’s no way around it.” He paused, running a hand through his ruffled curls. “I don’t know how Lucas got the drop on Wayne, but once a feeding begins, we become unpredictable, and you know this. Damn it, Tate!” He sighed.

“I don’t know what I saw. What I know is that his body was a husk. And that is what they did to my mother,” my voice broke with the last word, and I hated it. I hated showing this weakness, especially to him. “Did you know that?” I lifted my tear-filled eyes to his. “Her file lists her execution as ‘Enthrawment’. Did you even bother to check or to learn what became of the female who viewed you as a son, the one who welcomed you into her home and trusted you with her daughter? Or did you just go galivanting off to the Southern Outpost, washing your hands of her blood?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. The energy in the air shifted, the violence lessened and instead, an empty void of sadness swept in. “Tate...I’m sorry for what happened to your mother. But this,” he gestured out to the expanse and then to me, “this needs to end. The constant defiance, breaking Glenn curfew, questioning leadership.”

“Oh, because you’ve never questioned leadership? My bad. That’s right, you’re the golden boy who was handed a dux’s position because of who his daddy is.”

“Careful, TK.” His eyes snapped to mine. Any gentle mourning was now gone, replaced by the narrow gaze of a predator.

“No, you lost the right to call me TK when you withheld information about my mom’s questioning.” I shoved him. “You know, when you bedded me while they took her life. Don’t you ever call me TK again.”

He gulped, a sign of guilt.

“Don’t you dare do that,” I snapped, a different heat filling my veins. “You don’t deserve to feel better about yourself by expressing remorse or have the audacity to feign regret. No, you don’t get to play ‘nice’ or pretend to be the good guy. You’re not. You. Are. Not. Good.” I spoke each word with a finger digging deeper into his chest. He grabbed my hand and held me there.

“I can help you, Tate. Just, let me help you get into the guara. It will help assuage any questions that people may have.”

“Questions? What could the council, or rather your father, possibly have to question me about?”

“Nothing, I misspoke.”

“Misspoke or lost your nerve?”

“Use your brain, Tate. Do you really think Fletcher’s defiance today went unnoticed? Already the guara have been asked to up surveillance on his class. Word has it he was speaking about the Untish. You know that’s forbidden. After the war, the council decided it was best to silence any murmurs of the myth, and now of all times, we can’t have rumors of the Untish circulating.”

“What the hell does that mean?” My pulse quickened. “ Now of all times, ” I mocked.

I couldn’t stand the thought of Fletch being in trouble. I knew speaking of the Untish was taboo, but dear blood, to be put on additional guara surveillance? That was extreme, well unless we were seeing increased enemy activity, then perhaps it would be considered as possible treason, but even so, the Untish would have to be real—something I’d never really allowed myself to consider.

“Fucking-A Tate, stop asking questions that can get you in trouble, and start following the Glenn’s rules.”

“Stop lying to me. What the hell do you mean by ‘especially now’?”

He stood there, unmoving, refusing to answer. But I saw it, the twitch in his eyes, the subtle tightening of his forehead; he was worried.

“Please, Chance, just tell me. I can’t help Fletch or myself if I don’t understand the situation. Basics of assessing, our training, remember?” I pulled on the past as my eyes softened in the way I knew he could never resist. His gulp was visual confirmation that I had indeed struck a nerve.

“I…I can’t. Let’s just say that Fletcher needs to stop talking about the Untish and you need to be a good world-walker who doesn’t stir anything up, doesn’t stay out past curfew, and who doesn’t give the guara any reason to question your allegiance.”

The fact that he hadn’t mentioned my impending Disciplinary Hearing meant he wasn’t aware, and I for one was not about to bring that up. Instead, I wanted to focus on why he was so uptight. He definitely wasn’t telling me something.

“Is that what’s been putting the council on edge? Do we have another war to prepare for?” The possibility made me sick. I wasn’t alive when the Glenn went to war a century ago, but the damage still existed today. It was a burn, forever fragmenting our world.

The Glenn was split into four sects over the political differences in fighting the Fae armies of Mydant and nearly half the population was killed. I didn’t want to see that, to see my friends, innocents die for some stupid political gain.

“I don’t know. But you need to get back to your home and village limits, now Tate.” The finality in his words and expression told me I would get no further with him, he was always the good soldier. I turned and began to stroll away, frustration brimming at the surface of my blank face.

“And Tate,” his voice called after me, “I won’t be able to cover for you again. If you are caught outside city limits past curfew, I will have to write you up. Please, don’t make me do that.” The softening of his voice almost felt like concern.

I almost pitied him, but the image of Fletch in danger…the look on his face when he told me about the loss of my mother…

Never again.

My brilliant mom had been turned into a husk, just like Lucas was. That was something I wouldn’t forget—ever. I continued to walk away without another word.