Believe: The Complete Channie Series (154 page)

The
morning after Mother’s execution, River stood in the council room with her head slightly bowed, hands clasped in front of her chest in the proper attitude of submissive humility. But she glared at the white-robed men seated behind the granite altar. She’d rather die than live inside that opulent tomb, mated to the highest bidder. She closed her eyes for a moment then lifted her chin. “My mother was a criminal; tried and convicted of murder. She shamed me, my ancestors and my father’s memory. I will not mourn her loss nor avenge her death.”

The words of betrayal left a bitter taste in River’s mouth. But they were the words Mother had begged her to say—right before they led her to the gallows.

The high-councilman narrowed his pale grey eyes and caressed the handle of his oak gavel. His gaze traveled the length of River’s body. “Do you bleed?”

A flush of heat crept up River’s neck and spread across her cheeks. She pressed her lips together and glared at the man as she jerked her head in a quick nod.

“Then there is no reason to postpone your mating.”

River’s heart stopped. She hadn’t fully matured so her chances of subduing a wolf were negligible. Occasionally someone would attempt to merge before passing their seventeenth year, but it was rare. And even more rare for them to survive. “I’m only thirteen.”

“Silence!” The councilman’s shout ricocheted off the stone walls of the chamber and echoed through the adjoining tunnels. “It is this council’s decision that you be given to Zebulon. Let him decide your fate.”

River’s heart hammered against her ribs as her stomach dropped to her feet. He already had more women than he could service. He didn’t need another mate. He’d never allow her to merge. She’d remain human for the rest of her very short life. Nothing but a servant. A slave.

The high-councilman raised his gavel, but before it fell and sealed her fate, Reuben stepped forward and shouted, “I claim this woman for myself.”

FIVE YEARS LATER

Jonathan

J
ONATHAN
M
C
K
NIGHT
TAPPED
ON
F
RANKLIN
’
S
bedroom door then opened it and stuck his head inside. It was hard to believe they were identical twins when you compared their two rooms. Jonathan couldn’t walk across his floor without stepping on something, but Franklin’s floor was clean enough to eat on. It wasn’t even noon yet, and he’d already made his bed. Jonathan couldn’t remember the last time he’d made his. “Hey, Frankie, can I borrow your sleeping bag?”

Franklin sighed, laid his book face down on his desk then turned towards Jonathan and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I have a date and mine smells like stale beer.”

“That’s disgusting; and the answer is definitely no.”

Jonathan stepped into Franklin's room then shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “Come on. It’s my last chance to hook up with Carrie.”

“We deploy tomorrow. This is your last chance to spend time with Mom and Dad.”

“Mom’s not even talking to me. She still blames me for your decision to enlist.”

Franklin scooted his chair away from his desk, folded his arms across his chest and arched his eyebrows.

Jonathan’s jaw tightened. “No one put a gun to your head and said you had to join up just because I did.”

Franklin balanced on the back two legs of his chair. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble until you get your head screwed on straight.”

Jonathan hated the way everyone assumed he’d enlisted on a whim. It might have seemed like an impulsive decision, but he’d given it plenty of thought. Franklin was the one that had taken a major detour from his life’s plan. Jonathan hadn’t even had a plan until he started talking to the army recruiter at school. “Seriously, Frankie, why’d you enlist? You know we won’t see much of each other once we get out of basic training.”

“We can hang out when we’re not on missions.”

Jonathan ignored the obvious dig. Franklin had been planning on going on a completely different kind of mission. They both had—until two years ago when Jonathan discovered the pleasures of beer, pot and girls.

Franklin never wavered from the straight and narrow path. He was a model Mormon, a poster boy for how to live a clean,
boring
life.

Jonathan tried to keep the path in sight; but he enjoyed his side trips too much to give them up. He’d repent later; when he was too old to have fun. “I’ll give you fifty bucks.”

“I’m not going to help you commit a mortal sin. And even if that weren’t an issue, I still wouldn’t loan you my sleeping bag. That’s just gross.”

“Where’s that fabric freshener stuff Mom uses?”

Franklin stood up and crossed the room then put his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders. “Don’t do this.”

Jonathan grinned and patted Franklin’s cheek. “Don’t worry about it, Frankie. You’re righteous enough for both of us.”

“It doesn’t work that way and you know it. And what about Carrie? If you really loved her, you wouldn’t even think about taking her virginity.”

“Jeeze, Frankie! I'm not taking anything she doesn't want to give. And I never said I loved her.” A twinge of guilt pricked Jonathan’s conscience. He’d already decided to drop the L-bomb if nothing else worked. He and Carrie slid into second base on their first date and rounded third more than once since then. But she refused to go any further, claiming she wanted to save herself for marriage. But after last weekend, there wasn’t much left to save. There was no way in hell he was going into combat as a virgin.

Franklin cleared his throat. “Are you going to be careful?”

“What do you mean?” Jonathan knew exactly what Franklin was asking but couldn’t resist the temptation to tease him.

Franklin rolled his eyes. “Do you have protection?”

Jonathan smacked his forehead with an open palm. “Oh man, I knew I was forgetting something. Do you still have that sample pack they gave out in health class last year?”

A deep crimson flush spread up Franklin’s neck, across his cheeks and over the tops of his ears. “I threw it away.”

Jonathan laughed and punched Franklin’s shoulder. “I’m just messing with you. Don’t worry, I got it covered.”

Jonathan
parked the Mustang in front of the McKnight mine then wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. He hadn’t been inside since the summer before junior year when he and Frankie had gotten trapped during a cave-in. He’d hoped the prospect of getting laid would be enough to keep his mild claustrophobia under control but now that he was there, staring at the entrance, he wished he’d just gone ahead and rented a hotel room. But Carrie liked to pretend that every bit of progress in their physical relationship was an accident. A hotel room would be way too obvious and he didn’t want to piss her off.

The backseat of the Mustang was his only other option and he knew from prior experience that wouldn’t work. It didn’t matter how remote the location, Carrie was always too afraid someone would catch them. Besides, things were awkward enough without the added challenge of trying to seal the deal in such a small space.

“What are we doing here?” Carrie folded her arms over her chest. “I thought you hated the mine.”

“I do.” Jonathan pulled the key out of the ignition and shoved it in his pocket. “But I need to get over it.”

Carrie’s hand flew to her mouth. “There’re caves in Afghanistan.”

“This is sort of a test.” Trying to get laid in the family gold mine wasn’t the same as patrolling a mountain cave in enemy territory. But it was a start.

“Is it safe?” Carrie’s voice shook.

“The mine was inspected after the cave-in.” Dad was thinking of reopening the mine but that information needed to stay in the family. “The first twenty feet is solid rock. It’d take a major earthquake to bring it down. We’ll stay in the entrance.”

Jonathan climbed out of the car, patted his back pocket to be sure the condoms were still there then grabbed the sleeping bag out of the trunk before opening the passenger door for Carrie.

She narrowed her eyes at the sleeping bag. “What’s that for?”

“Would you rather sit on the ground?”

Carrie frowned, but followed him inside the mine without arguing. She even smiled at him when he kicked off his Tony Lamas, unrolled the sleeping bag and crawled inside. Things were looking good. Jonathan unzipped it a little further and lifted the corner. “Wanna snuggle?”

Carrie giggled, stepped out of her dainty, little shoes and slid in next to him. He knew the drill. He had to kiss her and rub her back for at least five minutes before she’d let him unbutton her shirt. So far, so good. He fumbled around with her bra for another couple of minutes before realizing it was one of those Victoria’s Secret contraptions that fastened in the front. But
how
did it fasten? It wasn’t a hook. Should he ask her to help him out or just keep pawing at it?

“Jonathan, stop.” Carrie grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to her shoulder. But then she scooted closer, brushing against him.

Jonathan gritted his teeth and rolled onto his back.

Carrie nuzzled his neck and whispered, “You don’t have to stop
everything
. Kiss me.”

Jonathan hated this game. They’d been playing it forever during their on-again-off-again relationship. “I’m leaving for Camp Pendleton tomorrow. This is our last chance.”

“Don’t say that.” Carrie’s voice wavered.

Jonathan hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t coming back at all; but he might as well roll with it. “I don’t want to go to war without knowing what it’s like to be as close as two people can be.”

Carrie grabbed his face and crushed her lips against his, bumping teeth. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and groaned.

Ugh. Her TicTac must have dissolved. Jonathan didn’t want to ruin the moment by offering her another one, but jeeze…who orders roasted garlic on a date? He pulled his mouth from hers and nibbled his way down her throat.

Carrie froze. Her entire body stiffened beneath Jonathan’s.

What now? He hadn’t even unhooked her bra.

She pushed him off and sat up. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He trailed his fingers up her spine onto her shoulders and tried to guide her back into his arms.

She grabbed her blouse and clutched it to her chest.

Great.
It had taken him twenty minutes to get the damn thing off of her. If she put it back on, he might as well give up and go home.

Something growled.

The sound came from deep inside the mine. Jonathan slid out of the sleeping bag and fumbled around in the dark for his flashlight.

He directed the beam into the tunnel. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Is that a wolf?
The animal was freaking huge; black with a diamond shaped patch of white fur between its glowing, blue eyes.
Blue? Didn’t wolves have yellow eyes?

Carrie whimpered and clung to Jonathan’s arm, jiggling the flashlight.

Jonathan lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t move.”

“I’m scared.”

Jonathan kept his voice low and spoke slowly. “Just back up nice and easy. Walk, don’t run, to the car.”

Carrie let go then spun around and ran out of the mine, shrieking like a banshee.

Jonathan crouched down, ready to tackle the wolf if it chased Carrie.

It bared its teeth and growled at Jonathan.

“Oh, you want a piece of me, do you?” He picked a rock up off the ground. “Well, come and get it.”

The wolf crept closer, growling and snapping its teeth.

Jonathan aimed at the diamond patch between its eyes and hurled the rock.

The wolf yelped then collapsed on the ground.

Jonathan backed out of the mine then turned and walked to the car, fighting the urge to run as he watched over his shoulder.

He was almost there when the wolf staggered out of the entrance. Moonlight glinted off its sleek, black fur. Foam dripped off its canine teeth. Was the animal rabid or just pissed?

Jonathan grabbed the door handle and gave it a yank, but only managed to rock the car. Are you kidding me? He pounded on the hood. “Carrie, unlock the door!”

She didn’t answer. The wolf crept closer.

Jonathan peeked in the window and found Carrie curled up in a ball with her hands over her face. He picked up another rock.

The wolf looked over its shoulder into the mine then turned and bolted into the forest.

Jonathan dropped the rock and knocked on the window. “It’s okay. The wolf’s gone.”

Carrie finally popped the lock.

Jonathan slid behind the wheel. “Why’d you lock the doors?”

“I was scared.”

“Of what?” Jonathan couldn’t believe she was that stupid. “Wolves don’t have opposable thumbs. It wasn’t going to open the door and climb in next to you.”