Raining Kisses (The Opeth Pack Saga Book 2) (2 page)

T
wenty-five years
later

N
icholaus mused
over how badly some people drove down Central Avenue late at night. Odd that some people were dumb enough to not show good driving skills, knowing the cops in Albuquerque were such fascists about the dumbest things like slightly overshooting a left turn. Even if the wind was blowing hard enough to make driving difficult, which it was tonight, the cops would still pull someone over if they even thought the driver was under the influence.

Thankfully, Nicholaus didn’t have to worry about that problem right now. It took wolves much longer to get drunk.

Watching passing cars drive down Central Avenue was amusing to him. Standing on the balcony of his loft, he puffed on a large cigar, sending clouds of smoke billowing toward the somewhat cloudy sky. Another deep draw sent more smoke off toward the Hyatt Hotels, blurring the red and green lights atop the multi-story towers.

Nicholaus pulled his leather jacket tighter around broad shoulders. He pulled his ponytail free of his collar. Running long fingers through thick hair, he readjusted his ponytail and let it sweep over his slender waist.

A few people walked by, couples sometimes, sometimes groups. Talking, holding hands, laughing or acting drunk, they were all the same to him.

Stupid humans.

Well, most of them. Occasionally he smelled a lone wolf walking down the street, heading toward the nearly hundred and fifty bars located in downtown, most of which resided off Central.

In another hour, dancing would be starting at The Library with the girls and their lovely short plaid schoolgirl skirts. The Coliseum, kitty corner from his loft, had just turned on their lights announcing they were open for the younger, more urban crowd.

How he missed those days, chasing the young skirts, barely old enough to get into a club, let alone buy alcohol. He’d had his share of women hit on him. Alas, he’d turned most of them down, even the ones who practically threw themselves at him. Every once in a while, there had been another wolf who came along, scenting his arousal, hoping she would find a mate. It had been hard shooting down so many beautiful women, but somehow, he’d managed. He felt too old, even then, to be fucking everything that moved and had breasts.

Looking out his balcony, he swore he saw two familiar faces. He leaned his large body over the metal railing and long strands of dark hair fell over his face. He caught sight of a pretty redhead dressed in a white cloak. Her companion, slightly taller with darker red hair, wore form fitting jeans that made her ass look oh so delectable. The first woman wore boots and black jeans and had a young face. The other woman’s tight shirt hugged glorious round breasts snugly, showing some cleavage.

He swore he knew those two—
wolves?

“Lukina?” He whispered the word silently.

His breath hitched in his throat. The other wolf…
Katarina?

Puffing on his cigar, he blew two thick clouds of smoke down toward the street before stepping back from the edge of the balcony, hoping he hadn’t been seen or scented.

The last thing he wanted to do tonight was revisit an old wound.

He took another long drag from his cigar and set it down on the ash tray, exhaling another large cloud of smoke that circled above his head. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the glass of beer he’d poured and took a long sip, finishing the drink. It was time for bed anyway.

Hell, he wondered what the fuck Lukina and Katarina were doing in New Mexico anyway. And where was his other mate, Krystyna? Last he’d heard, Lukina and Ilona, the two main pack healers, had found the new pack Alpha.

The poor bastard in charge would soon regret his decision. His destiny apparently was to lead the pack to a heaven that didn’t exist.

Slowly he turned and walked into the warmth of his loft.

He shut the glass door, locked it, and went to the bedroom space. While he undressed and pulled back the sheets on his oversized bed his stomach started to sink. Something was up.

God damn it
.

Nicholaus crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his head. He didn’t want to deal with whatever was coming his way, even if she was full-figured and had lips like velvet. And damn it, Lukina was with her too. That was never a good sign.

He remembered the last time he’d seen Katarina and closed his eyes with the memories. She was hugging Krystyna, their other lover, tightly. Tears were streaming down both their faces while they waved goodbye to him and begged him not to leave Hungary.

Sighing heavily, he recalled the day after he’d boarded the plane to America. Having to hear more prophetic bullshit from their current Alpha, who happened to be losing his mind, was enough to make anyone want to leave the pack.

The looks on others’ faces when he walked down the dirt streets filled him with trepidation he had no desire to deal with.

After killing Katarina’s brother and father and blacking out, he realized the graveness of his nature. Since then, he’d refused to kill again. Swore the awakening of his true nature was more dangerous to his loved ones and the world at large.

He hated himself for wishing they would forget him. It drove him mad to think he could forget his wolf nature. But he despised himself as a wolf. At least the humans didn't have the pull of murder.

Yeah, they killed. Sure, there were numerous hopeless cases out there. But the majority of humans he'd come in contact with seemed decent.

He was still unable to stand how the only true love he’d ever received came from them. Even now, twenty five years later, it burned him to think of how he’d rejected their love by leaving Hungary and the pack.

“Oh well.” He sighed heavily and rolled over to one side. Fluffing his pillow, he rested his head on it and prayed for dreamless sleep.

* * *

J
arred
from sleep by a loud knocking sound at his door, Nicholaus shouted, “All right damn it! I’m coming!”

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Nicholaus shook loose the kinks in the legs of his lounge pants and padded toward the door. He remembered who he’d seen earlier and his stomach sank. He did not need a visit from Lukina or Katarina.

Especially Katarina.

Slipping his robe over his shoulders, he belted it and brushed long strands of hair out of his face. A quick glance at the clock told him it was well after two a.m. Hell, he sniffed feminine scents and alcohol from the door.
Shit.
He didn’t have time to fully open the door before a pair of tiny arms and a flurry of hair assaulted him.

“Nicholaus!”

Caught off balance, he stumbled a few steps back; Lukina wrapped her arms around his frame before he could catch himself against the wall. “Lukina, what brings you and,” he glanced at Katarina and narrowed his eyes, “
her
here at this hour?”

Lukina pulled away and looked up at him with a smile. Her ruby red lips were kissable; the bastard who loved her was certainly blessed. “We thought we’d visit our favorite missing pack brother.”

“Bullshit, Lukina. Whenever you show up, something is always wrong. You always have bad news. What do you want?”

She let go and stepped back, raising her chin to meet his gaze. Deep ocean blue eyes held an angry stare. “I’m not fond of being the messenger, but it’s what I am, apparently, at the moment. Also, I don’t bring bad news. I bring—”

He cleared his throat. “Don’t say it. Prophecy, right?”

She nodded. “I hate how the universe has chosen to send messages, but it’s the way things work. Like Józsi, and Marco before him, deal with it.”

Les’s words still rang true. He’d set shit in motion, obviously. She could be so grown up at times that it was almost irritating. “And Katarina?”

Moving strands of hair out of her face, she looked up. Her pout said it all; she was still angry with him. Her features had filled out nicely, he noted as she rubbed her arms together, covering taut nipples beneath her blouse. “I am not here of my own volition. I wouldn’t have come here if she hadn’t insisted.”

He nodded. “I understand.” His heart ached at the thought that she didn’t want to see him as much as he wanted to see her.

Lukina shoved her way past Nicholaus with a force that bumped him into the wall with oomph.

“What do you think you’re doing, little girl?” He straightened his shoulders and stalked after her.

She looked over her shoulder and glared. “Letting myself in, since you’re such a rude host.”

He put his hand to his forehead. “I wouldn’t be a rude host if I had known to expect company.”

“You did know. We smelled your cigars earlier.”

He swallowed hard. “Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath. “What do you want?”

“We need you to come home—” Lukina started to speak, but Katarina’s hand flew over Lukina's mouth. Lukina caught Katarina's hand and met her stare, then looked back at Nicholaus. “We have a situation.”

A shudder raced through him but he managed to keep his voice even. “What? Tell me what's going on, Katarina.”

She met his stare with wide eyes. Standing before him with her chest nearly busting out of her black top reminded him how good she always looked. Long red hair had been pulled back out of her face, but tears formed in the pools of her beautiful green eyes. She shivered and hugged herself.

When she wouldn't respond, he strode toward her, grabbed his former mate by the elbow and tugged her inside, urging Lukina to follow. “Get in here, both of you.” He shut the door and watched Katarina’s expression.

She stopped, stared down the white walled corridor that banked off to the left, then back out the window in front of her almost in a daze. She wasn't tracking, clearly.

The heater kicked on, a low rumble that startled Katarina. She looked up at the huge vents and aluminum piping overhead.

“Heater,
drágám
.” He pointed up at the large silver vent.

She nodded.

“Got anything to drink?” Lukina pushed past them and headed toward the living area.

Nicholaus shifted his gaze on Lukina. “You’re not old enough to drink, little girl. Not in this country, nor among the humans.”

Her boots stopped and echoed on the concrete floor. She looked over her shoulder, glared at him and then strode down the hall. “It's been a long enough time that I am legal now. Besides, we don’t and have never abided by their laws, remember? Or have you lived among them too long and forgotten our ways?”

Ouch. He sighed heavily. “There’s an open bottle of port on the counter. Bring three glasses.”

Lukina sauntered around the corner toward the kitchen, leaving Nicholaus alone with Katarina in the long hallway.

Musk and earth wafted over his nose, along with the keen smell of wolf hovering just below the surface of her smooth, dark skin. How she managed to hide the extra magic she possessed amazed him. He wondered if she’d come into her full power yet. By the scent of her aura, he'd guessed she hadn't.

He stared into her eyes, searched their depths and wanted to beg her forgiveness instantly. In a second, he shut the thought down and forced himself to refocus his energy and thoughts on why they were here.

In the twinkle of her eyes, he swore he saw tears forming. Yet she met his stare once again with an upturned chin, before turning around, glancing at the floor and walking away.

Nicholaus let out a harsh breath, pulled her into his arms and held her head against his chest.

Slowly, Katarina wrapped her arms around him and let her hands search for comfort.

Fingers caressed his skin and sent a tremor through him. He looked down, kissed the top of her head gently. Her skin shouldn’t have been this cold; her inner wolf should have given her plenty of body heat. She hadn’t eaten obviously. “Hug me,
szerető.
”

Her grip around him tightened until she was flush with him. Her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

Slowly, Nicholaus caressed her hair, tugged at the braid of silken smoothness. Suddenly, his nose picked up the sweet, earthen scents of Hungary.

Of home.

Warm tears fell on his shoulder.

“
Drágám,
what’s wrong?”

“Get me that drink and we’ll talk.” She spoke low into his shoulder, her words vibrating along his skin. Even in tears, her voice caressed his ears like a siren song.

“
Igen.
” He helped her around the corner, down the hallway, and sat her down on his leather couch against a wall with large windows that overlooked 6th Street.

She turned around, looking out through the wall of windows before her gaze returned to him. Katarina sniffled, wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve and set her hands down in her lap. “The mountains off in the distance are nice. This is some view you have.”

He nodded. “Indeed.”

Lukina joined them and handed them both glasses filled with port.

Nicholaus took his glass, sniffed it and inhaled the aromas of dark berry, raisin and tobacco. After only a sip, he set his glass down on the table beside the couch. “Will this help your nerves?”