Were-Devils' Revenge [Were-Devils of Tasmania 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (5 page)

Queensland, Present Day

Gabriella put the phone down and stared out the window. Guests were on the beach playing volleyball under Mitch’s instructions, but even he wasn’t distracting her.

The call had been from her mother, telling her that Great-Aunt Marianne had died. Gabriella hadn’t been close to her great-aunt and couldn’t remember when she’d seen her last, so it wasn’t this as such that was disturbing her. Her mother was asking her to come to the funeral later in the week. She had hinted that Gabriella might be needed, that Gabriella’s grandmother in particular thought her attendance important, though just why Gabriella couldn’t establish.

“She’s always thought you and Lena might be critical to our future,” was all her mother would say. Gabriella had no idea what it meant though she suspected her mother knew more than she was saying.

Getting there would be easy enough to organize, and her father would fly her to Cairns, so it wasn’t this either that was worrying her. The issue was that Marianne, though old, shouldn’t have died. Her husband had apparently become increasingly paranoid, and Gabriella’s mother, who normally kept well away from family dramas, had been dragged into this one by
her
mother. And if Gabriella’s grandmother, the clan’s self-appointed matriarch, was involved, then there was no way to refuse. This was serious.

Gabriella had known from her cousins that things had not been going well. They had been fired up by Marianne’s husband and were convinced as he about a curse rebounding on them, though they didn’t believe it was fate, and thought their nemeses from the south were behind it. They had been looking locally for someone they believed was set to destroy the family but so far had come up empty-handed.

Gabriella’s grandmother had always been the sane one in these disputes. Gabriella hoped she would still be able to keep the peace. But something told her that things had changed, and she worried for her troubled cousin Lena who already had only just narrowly missed serious injury.

She decided there wasn’t much she could do about it, though she was sure to hear all about it tonight. In a fit of uncertainty about what to do about her attraction to two men at once, she’d invited her old boyfriend, Wilson, to the dance party tonight. If she couldn’t have both maybe it was better to have neither, or at least that had been what she’d been thinking when she’d called Wilson. Now she wasn’t so sure. Mitch on the beach caught her eye, and she groaned inwardly. He was gorgeous, and she had condemned herself to a night listening to family drama. Wilson might not be directly related, but he was on Lena’s father’s side and a descendant from one of the original families, so he may as well have been family.

Wilson arrived early, to annoy her she was sure. He sat on her desk, his shaggy, blond hair tossed off his face as he regarded her proprietarily.

“Hot as ever I see,” he said.

“Don’t get too excited,” said Gabriella. “I thought you might like to check out the guests. There’s a cute girl from Brisbane who’s your type.”

“But does she like to play my way?”

“Not many people do,” said Gabriella dryly. “Me included.” This had been the source of their split. Being part of this family
didn’t mean Gabriella wanted to be like them in every way. Unlike Lena she couldn’t transform and didn’t want to be able to.

Gabriella closed down her computer. She wasn’t going to get any more work done today.

“Go to the bar,” she told him. “I’ll join you when I’m dressed.”

The dance party was a weekly tradition. They had a really good rock ’n’ roll band, and the place was decorated to look like a fifties American drugstore with jukeboxes and posters of the great singers of the time. Mostly the guests shuffled more than doing real rock ’n’ roll, but they had fun. Gabriella had had several employees teach her along the way to do it properly. The other reason she had invited Wilson was that on the dance floor he was a natural.

Gabriella found him sweet-talking
the barmaid. Only a couple of guests had arrived and were milling awkwardly around the jukebox.

“Heard from—?” Wilson started.

“Yes,” Gabriella interrupted. “I’ll be at the funeral.”

“You and every Karlssen and Magnussen in Queensland,” said Wilson. Gabriella didn’t like the gleam in his eye. She turned away.

“I really don’t want to know.”

Wilson eased off the bar stool and stood up behind her, putting his arms around her. In her ear he whispered, “It would be better if you joined us.”

As Gabriella wriggled out of his hold, she caught sight of the Richards brothers. They were standing in the doorway, and she’d never before seen a stare so full of rage. Stunned, she looked back at Wilson, and the feeling, it seemed, was mutual. She could read Wilson’s thoughts, and at the moment he saw them, his thoughts were screaming, “Danger.”

* * * *

Mac smelt him before he saw him. All his senses were on alert, and Mac felt his brother tense beside him. The blond Destroyer also had his arms around Gabriella, which didn’t help. It took all of Mac’s control not to transform and rip the man’s neck out.

“He’s a ghost?” Mitch whispered.

“Yes. And he knows what we are, too.”

“Shit.”

The brothers moved slowly toward the other end of the bar, watching Gabriella and the Destroyer.

“He can’t be Zachary,” said Mitch. “Not big enough.”

Mac had already come to this conclusion. It was hardly surprising that there were more. What they had decided to do in Cairns on Friday was get a sense of the size of the problem. Now it looked as though they might have an earlier opportunity.

“We can’t do anything here,” said Mitch.

“No,” Mac agreed. “Gabriella’s safety comes first.” He saw his brother’s expression. Until now he’d tried to hide the extent of his attraction.

“Shit,” said Mitch. “A Destroyer with the girl we both want. Fuck.”

The curse
. Mac gripped the side of the bar. Both brothers had death on their minds at the moment. Was this the instinct that the prophecy said they had to overcome?

Mac didn’t reply because at that moment Gabriella was heading toward them. The blond man was leaning against the bar, eyes fixed in their direction.

“So are you boys planning on being social?”

Mac took a mouthful of beer and smiled tightly. “We didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You mean Wilson? He’s an old friend and comes along for the dancing.”

Mac barely heard her. Mitch replied, “Known him long?”

“Pretty much all my life,” said Gabriella. “He’s a local Cairns boy. I went to school with him.”

The brothers relaxed a little.

“Everyone knows everyone up here,” she added, frowning a little.

Mac tried smiling. “Big families?”

“Huge,” said Gabriella, laughing. “And not just the Italian Catholic ones. I have cousins and second cousins everywhere.”

“I guess no one wants to leave paradise,” said Mitch, whose smile looked completely natural. “Dance?”

The band was still setting up.

“I promised the first to Wilson,” said Gabriella awkwardly. “We usually do it as a bit of a show piece.”

“Then the second?”

“Absolutely! See you then.” Gabriella headed off to talk to one of the junior employees who had just dropped a box of cutlery.

The brothers looked at each other. It was going to be a long night, but they’d have to wait until Wilson left before dealing with him.

Guests began arriving, and the band looked ready. Mac watched with Mitch from the bar as Gabriella went to the microphone and welcomed everyone and wished them a “rockin’ good time.” The band hit the first note of
“Rock Around the Clock,” and Wilson left the bar with a final warning look at the brothers before then sliding across the floor on his knees to finish at Gabriella’s feet, hands out stretched. Everyone clapped as Gabriella accepted his hand, and the two took off like professionals.

It was hard not to be impressed. Gabriella was wearing a full green skirt and tight white T-shirt that scooped low to show ample cleavage. A wide black belt emphasized her curves. Her deep-red, curly hair was tied back in a large green bow. She looked much younger and smaller against the lean, blond man, who would have been Mac’s height. In an open white shirt with a green scarf he looked like her partner, and they had clearly danced together before. They finished with her being thrown on either side of his hips, across his back, and then through his legs. The applause was breaking out before the music stopped.

“Go do us proud, bro,” said Mac. “I’ll keep an eye on the ghost.”

* * * *

Mitch was a natural athlete but dance star he wasn’t. The ghost had had rhythm and a feminine style to his hip movements that Mitch thought was just not manly, but he had to admit it looked good. He wasn’t going to be able to replicate it. But he was a good deal stronger than Wilson, and he just had to find the steps that made use of that.

Gabriella was still on the floor, some distance from Wilson when Mitch went up to her and put his hand out.

Gabriella grinned, still panting. “Are you going to be able to top that?”

Mitch grabbed her hand and yanked and twisted. She flew through the air, and he caught her in both arms as she came down. “That do for a start?”

Gabriella looked stunned. “Ah yeah, but I have a feeling there are a few steps you might know that I don’t.”

The band hit the next song. “Old Time Rock and Roll.” Mitch grinned. A familiar oldie.

In the end he forgot about showing off and forgot about Wilson. It was three minutes where he got to have Gabriella in his arms, at least when he wasn’t tossing her around. Pinning her to his hips, he stared into her eyes. In one instant Mitch thought he saw into her thoughts, and he liked what he saw. She bit her lip and looked away, but they were already onto the next step. For the finale, rather than tossing her along the floor, Mitch made sure she finished right in his arms, and there she stayed through the applause, trying to regain her breath.

“Wow,” she said finally. “I should have known better than to challenge an athlete, though I’m quite sure rock ’n’ roll dancing wasn’t on your resume.”

Mitch grinned. “Anytime you want to find out what else isn’t on it let me know.” He kissed her cheek before she could pull away. To his right he could see Wilson take a step forward. But Mac had taken two.

Gabriella sensed it. She muttered what sounded like “men” under her breath.

Mac took another step and took her hand. “You need a drink. Let me buy you one.”

Gabriella looked around her. “After that dance, I need something strong. I’ll have a margarita.”

* * * *

As the end of the night drew closer, the brothers had to make a decision.

“He isn’t Zachary,” Mac reminded them. “If we harm him, we’ll draw a lot of heat.”

“True,” said Mitch. “But we’re going to draw heat anyway. Unless we kill him, the entire ghost population is going to know we are here.”

“How about we just put him out of action?”

Mitch looked skeptical. “Like how?”

Mac was thinking of a cave he’d found when he’d been exploring the island after one of the guided walks. In the dense rain forest it was totally hidden. As ghost bats lived in caves, chances were he’d survive as long he was not too badly injured.

“Leave it to me,” Mac finally said.

“What do you mean leave it to you?” replied Mitch. “Where do you think I’m going to be?”

Mac looked at him, and though no words were necessary, he said them anyway. “Keeping Gabriella safe.”

Mitch exhaled. “Little brother, for once in my life I’m going to say no. I know how you feel about her.”

“And I know how you feel about her, too.”

The silence hung.

“Do you think…” said Mitch.

“I could,” replied Mac.

“So could I.”

“Then maybe there will be a time we can ask or suggest it. Tonight though, she needs you.”

Wilson tried to slip out unnoticed. With Mac on full alert there was little chance of that. Though Mac had never fought a Destroyer before the encounter with Zachary in Hobart, he had thought long and hard about the advantages and disadvantages of each side.

Both clearly could pick the other. In pure brute strength were-devils were well ahead. But they couldn’t fly, and this was the biggest weakness. If Wilson was allowed to transform, then he’d never be caught. Mac would have to rely on his instinct to get him quickly. There was probably only a second involved.

He picked the moment Wilson was about to leave and moved with lightning speed through another door to be outside off the balcony. The breeze would help, and he ensured he was downwind.

Wilson looked on edge. He stepped down toward the beach looking around him and never saw the were-devil coming. Mac, now a magnificent, huge devil with black fur gleaming, had Wilson’s arm—his potential wing—in his teeth and was taking off into the scrub before Wilson realized what had happened.