Feral Craving (7 page)

It had become
a regular occurrence, one he could almost predict. The beatings and screams,
the terror and horror all found a way to wind themselves into his life. He sat
in his room, his small back to the wall, a young boy no older than four, and
clutched his hands to his ears as another scream echoed through the house.

“No, no, no,
no…” The words were a harsh whisper coming under his breath. His head shook,
and his small body trembled.

“Bari!” His
mom’s high-pitched scream shook the walls around him, calling out for help. He
knew it would never come. “Bari, go get help! HELP!”

Loud crashes
sounded out, and the small boy pushed himself closer to the wall as his
mother’s screams tore through the air repeatedly. His little legs curled up
close to his chest as he continued to press his hands harder to his ears,
anything to escape the sounds. He was too weak, too small, too damn scared to
go get any help despite how many times she called out for it. Tears tracked
down his face relentlessly as he lost hope for their lives, for the promises
made, of things to change, things to get better.

The wall
behind him shook, something large being tossed against it, his mother’s
whimpers on the other side. He buried his face against his knees and mourned
for the little boy that could have been. He was too frail, too scared to do
anything but listen to her pain.

The door snapped Bari out of the memory.
His head lifted as she stepped in. All the air in the tiny room suddenly sucked
out. His heartbeat thundered in his chest like an atomic impact, and every
muscle in his body tensed up. Mackenzie met his gaze and shifted her feet,
hands working at the purse slung over her shoulder. She looked nervous,
tentative, like a tiny critter about to bolt at the first sign of a threat.

More so, she looked so fucking beautiful
that a phantom physical pain started in his chest. He resisted the urge to rub
at it.

At five foot five, Mackenzie was a petite
thing when compared to him. Her hair was almost the color of midnight, so deep
and dark it was nearly blue. Her green gaze landed on him, and the light
spilling in from the windows made the auburn highlights of her hair stand out.

“I heard you were home.”

He sighed at the sound of her voice. Damn
if he hadn't been trying for a few moments of peace from his mind, from his
thoughts, from her … but here she was, in his room as if she had answered his
unspoken call. He licked his parched lips, his mouth growing dry from her
presence, and tried not to breathe. The things her scent did to his body, even
after all these years…

"What's up, Angel? If you've come
here to cut on me some more, I'm sorry. I'm fresh out of patience and tired as
shit." She grew rigid for a moment, and he cursed silently at his slip of
her old nickname. There was no way this could happen. No way could she stay
here for one more moment. There just wasn’t a way to take what he had wanted
for so damn long, not anymore. He wasn’t a man who could give her what she
needed: love, a relationship, someone pure. He wasn’t any of that. She’d been
on his mind ever since he’d arrived home, crowding his thoughts so he was
unable to sleep … unable to focus.

Instead of turning and leaving, which he
both hoped like hell she would while praying she’d stay longer, she stepped
closer, her chin kicking up a notch. He needed her to get the hint though. His
eyes cut over to the door, and she followed his gaze. “Come on, Angel. Get the
hint. Just go.” The words whispered out beneath his breath, the urge swaying
almost like an image through the air.

Mackenzie ignored it and took another
step closer. His brows drew down in a frown, his gaze following her movement,
from the fidgeting of her purse strap, to the twirling of a long curl around
her finger. Her gaze bounced, jumping from him, down across his body, to the
room and surroundings.

“It’s been too many years, Bari. I wanted
to come see how you were doing. As far as who has been cutting on you, well,”
she shrugged, “I think Beth was holding back. So count yourself lucky.”

His entire body reacted as soon as she
stepped closer and spoke. Bari drew in a deep breath and then let out an
internal curse as her scent hit him. In nine damn years, she refused to leave
his mind. She stepped up next to the bed and turned her body toward his. He
lifted his gaze, finding her beautiful green eyes. He closed his own,
struggling with control, taking a moment to regain his patience. She shouldn’t
be here, shouldn’t be around him. He fought the primal urge to force himself on
her, all the while screaming silently for her to get far, far away from him and
the dark monster that lived inside. He felt it now, watching … waiting.

"Why, Angel?” He saw her cringe at
his blunt words. “Why come down here to dredge up the past?"

Bari stared up at the ceiling, hearing
her shift once again, her scent binding itself to him. Her breath hitched, and
Bari closed his eyes. Goddamn it, he didn’t want her here. He’d only hurt her.

“You know damn well why I would want to
do such a thing, Bari. Have you changed so much that you aren’t the same man I
once knew? Has hatred filled your veins so much that you can’t say hello to an
old … friend?” She spat out the last word.

He opened his eyes, looked up at her and
saw the tears threatening to fall. “Is that what we are, Mac? Friends?”

She stared down at him, and he swallowed;
the action forced down his throat as the sheer volume of the situation hit.
Here she was, offering herself and her friendship to him once again, looking
for answers. Yet her friendship, while wonderful, wasn’t the thing he wanted.
But he wasn’t normal, yet also wasn’t strong enough to say no. He was scared
for what he’d do to her, for what he had to offer, and for what he recognized
would come.

His hand lifted, and he brushed a stray
tendril of her hair behind her ear. As he drew his fingers through the strands,
he took note of how damn soft it was. If she was willing to communicate,
willing to open up, then he could do no other than return it. It could go no
further though. He had to make sure of it. “There’s not much to be known about
me, Angel.” He dropped his hand to his stomach before rolling his body, facing
her. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and drew her to the side of his bed,
forcing her to sit next to him as he spoke. “You and I know when I left, we
were anything
but
friends.” He
searched her eyes, looked for a reaction. His hand itched to reach out, to take
her in his arms, just once, and to feel her one more time.

****

Mackenzie brutally shoved down the anger
that filled her. It was a viscous, living thing—living in her for far too long.
Hurt replaced the emotion. She wanted to toss herself in his arms and yet at
the same time strangle him to death. It had been too many years, too much
grief, having too many questions that needed to be answered. Nine years of
living with the aftermath of the one night.

She hated how this looked, hated how that
one familiar act of stroking her hair brought back a wave of memories. She had
always loved him, considered him her confidant, her best friend. Even when he
had left without a word, her affection for him never did. She loathed her
reaction to him. Hated how even after all these years, he could still make her
crumble. His looks hadn’t changed too much since the last time she had seen
him. Still holding an air of menace, he seemed to have grown into the handsome
man she knew he’d become. He had a square jaw, and stubble from a day’s growth
of hair lined his face. Held within were lips so plump and full, so tempting
and beautiful that if they hadn’t been set on such a masculine face, those lips
would have been too feminine. Instead, they added to his cruel sensuality.

Her gaze roamed his face, taking note of
the smallest differences, scars here and there, frown lines, small changes in
the young man she had fallen in love with so long ago. His eyes still pierced
as blue as she remembered, one color she couldn’t forget because they carried
the same color as her son. And the black hair, it was all the same. She sighed
and heard a rumbling sound, glanced up to his eyes startled, as she realized
the sound came from him.

“Mac … you shouldn’t look at me like
that…” She frowned, found herself not thinking on his words but instead falling
into the ice gaze she once swooned for. His eyes, the color of a deep ocean,
framed with a black outline of a color only found in space, far from any light.
Emotional pain tumbled into her body, a past hurt shattering through her
erected shields. She heard him curse and then his grip wrapped around her wrist
as he drew her into his arms. She went and let out a long-suffering shudder,
and felt as if she had just come home.

“Mackenzie…” The word drew out on a sigh.

“Bari...”

His arms simply drew her in closer, their
bodies pressed so tight the air itself couldn’t come between them. He felt
better than anything, the shelter of his body holding hers. Peace she hadn’t
known for so long stole into her. Like homemade apple pie, a soothing comfort
and churning lust, all wrapped up into the strong arms of this man.

“I don’t trust myself not to say
something we may both regret, Mac.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear as her
head lay on his chest and she nodded, at a loss for speech.

She hadn’t wanted to touch him, tried to
fight off the impulse but in the end, she’d been unable to resist. Thank God he
hadn’t hesitated either because she didn’t know what she would have done.
Barely understood why she was even here. There had been a time when he could do
nothing but touch her. Where had that gone? When did things change so much?
Now, his scent wrapped around her, and as she shifted against his body, she
felt him react. It was only normal, right? A man being gone for so long,
deployed for months at a time as he’d been. Or was it their old memories
bringing that back?

She sighed at the questions and shifted
her face, nuzzled against his chest.

He shifted on the bed, moved his arm
beneath the covers to adjust his straining erection, which was pressing into
her. Heat stole up into her face as she realized that it probably had nothing
to do with her, that it was simply a natural male reaction. She pushed the
unsavory thoughts away. The time now wasn’t about that but instead about the
comfort two friends were trying to give one another. Two friends that relied on
each other for far too much.

“Things are going to be okay, Mac.”

She could only hope he spoke the truth.

Chapter
Eight

After being checked out of the hospital
by a very witchy woman, one who glared at him, tried to get more answers, and
one who abruptly shut up as soon as Tyler rounded the corner, they headed out
the front double glass doors and to the car. Bari glanced over at an unusually
quiet Tyler and wondered exactly what was going on between him and Bethany. The
two fidgeted more than ants preparing for winter when they’d been together, and
the tension in the room was palpable, almost visible in fact.

Driving along the highway, Tyler was
thankfully quiet, giving Bari a chance to look around at where he had grown up.
It was weird, almost as if time had somehow frozen in some places and sped up
in others. For the most part Nantucket was how he remembered. Long open spaces,
little shops and colonial houses. Children played in parks and fields while
people walked the street, taking it all in.

People lived in Nantucket for a few
reasons, one being there was hardly any crime. It was a place where the town’s
police officers helped the elderly cross the street. Bari scrutinized everyone
he saw, trying to decipher if they were human or demon, good or bad. Sight was
almost worthless to him, not giving him any answers. He wasn’t picking up
anything from the car so he narrowed his eyes, tried to focus in order to try
to get something, anything to give him a clue. Heaving a deep sigh he sat back
in his seat, resigned that maybe he wouldn’t know, or perhaps, not quite yet.

“You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”

Bari had a ton of questions, though he
didn’t know if he was ready for the answers he would get. Denial rose up in his
veins. He didn’t want to ask because he still didn’t want to believe this was
happening.

“It’s going to come to you, bro. The
change will give you that ability and so much more.”

“Okay, see, there you go talking cryptic
again. Why don’t you just spit it out, Tyler? Explain what this change business
is about. What these abilities are. You know, give me a fucking clue about what
you’re saying.”

Tyler let out an audible deep breath and
shifted his hands on the wheel, turning off the main highway. The
neighborhood’s big, spacious yards stood between colonial style residences
exhibiting charm. “The change is when your body marks itself as ready. It’s a
shifting of your form, one that is agony and ecstasy all at once.” Tyler
glanced over to Bari and laughed at the look on his face. “No, dawg, it’s not
like a werewolf or some shit, but it’s also something that isn’t easy to
explain.” Tyler’s lips thinned as he visibly searched for words before
continuing. “There are many rumors about where the
Eurydice
come from. The eldest of our kind know the truth, and I think
in order to keep many in line, they let some of the rumors fly free. But the
basic gist is a long time ago,
Eurydice
were created when the Goddess Themis suffered a crime so great that her pain
drew up magic.”