Wolf at the Door (7 page)

Darin feels it when the pleasure finally becomes too much for Raylan, feels the way his hips stutter and his cock swells inside of him.  Raylan’s hips work a few more times, the thrusts sloppy and jagged, then he’s gone, spilling inside of Darin with a harsh groan that sounds as if it’s been ripped from his throat.  He collapses on top of Darin, their sweat-slick skin sliding together as they both pant breathlessly into each other’s ears.  Darin manages to gather the strength to run a hand lazily through Raylan’s messy hair and grin dazedly up at the ceiling and then he’s out, eyes slipping shut as he dozes off.

Chapter Ten

Darin is pleasantly sore when he makes his way back out of the shower the second time around.  Raylan’s lazy, satisfied smirk is still playing in his mind from when he’d hobbled into the bathroom earlier.  He’d asked Raylan if he was going to scent mark him all over again if he got cleaned up, but Raylan had just grinned, all sharp teeth and flashing eyes, and shook his head.  His scent, Raylan had said, was deep enough inside of Darin now that he could get away with showering, that anything with a sense of smell would be able to tell who he belonged to.  That wasn’t of course to say that there wouldn’t be more marking, of an extensive kind, in the future, but for now in the privacy of Darin’s home Raylan’s instincts were appeased.

Dressed in a pair of loose shorts and an old shirt, Darin makes his way towards the kitchen, unable to help the way his toes curl and his heart skips a beat when Raylan catches him in a quick deep kiss as they pass each other in the hall.  Raylan’s intent on taking advantage of what’s left of the hot water, and Darin is set on scrounging up some sort of lunch for the two of them.  He hears the water turn on as he moves around the kitchen, defrosting what’s left of some frozen lasagna and scraping together other odds and ends since he’s a bit short in the grocery department.

He’s leaning against the counter, a long neck beer bottle dangling from his fingertips and thoughts of Raylan, shower slick and eyes shining, dancing through his mind when there’s a knock on his front door.  Jolting out of his daydream, Darin puts his beer down and makes his way to the front door only to feel his brows draw down in confusion when he doesn’t see anyone through the peephole.  Curious, Darin unbolts the door and opens it slowly only to be met with the sight of an empty front yard and a unmarked, brown wrapped package lying innocently on his doorstep.

After another look around, Darin bends down and carefully scoops the package up as he moves back into the house, closing and locking the door behind him.  He looks it over carefully on his way to the kitchen, but there’s nothing, no postage mark, no name, nothing besides thick brown paper and a few pieces of strategically placed tape.  Darin puts the package down gently on the island and tries his best to ignore it, determined to wait for Raylan in case it’s something dangerous.

It doesn’t take long for his curiosity to get the better of him, and after a second’s hesitation Darin’s rummaging around in a drawer for a knife and carefully slicing through the tape and unfolding the brown paper.  There’s a wooden box inside, the wood a rich golden color that matches well with the gold catch that holds it closed.  The lid is embossed with the outline of a wolf that catches Darin’s eye as he picks it up carefully, moving the wrapping paper out of the way so that he can set it back down against the stone of his countertop with a gentle click.

The catch gives easily, and the box opens without as much as a squeak, and Darin can feel the frown on his face deepening in confusion at the sight of the contents.  The box is filled with what seem to be flower petals.  They’re a dark purple and strangely shaped and even from a distance Darin can tell that their scent is strong.  There’s also a plain white card on top, and Darin reaches down a picks it up curiously only to feel himself startle and dread begin to churn wildly in his stomach when he reads the message printed on the other side.

Found you.

A loud, rumbling growl cuts through the air of the kitchen, and Darin jumps, card falling from his fingers to flutter back down into its place on top of the flower petals.  He whips around and comes almost face to face with Raylan, chest bare and hair still wet from his shower.  It’s Raylan like he’s never seen him, his shoulders hunched over like his spine is twisting, ears slightly pointed and fangs fully visible.  His eyes are that burning amber from before, but there’s rage in their depths instead of desire; his clawed fingers are spread and hooked as if he’s barely restraining himself from leaping and tearing into something.  Frozen in shock, Darin can almost swear that he can see something rippling just beneath Raylan’s skin.

  “Raylan?”  He keeps his voice low and soft.  He’s almost surprised by how even it comes out, but he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s safe.  Something deep inside of him whispers that even at his worst Raylan would never harm him.

Raylan seems to gather himself with difficulty, eyes locked on the box behind Darin even as he takes a few steps back and away.  When he speaks his voice is low and gruff, part growl with that same slurring hint of fangs from before.

“Wolfsbane.”

Horror ramps through Darin as the suspicions the small card had set to churning in his brain are validated.  The Huntsman, the person who’d managed to wound Raylan, who has been trying so hard to kill him has found them.  What is worse is the fact that they’d been close enough to leave that package, that box of poison and the taunting card, and they’d both been completely unaware.

“Shit!”

“Get rid of it, Darin.”

Darin whirls back around, slams the lid of the box closed and scoops it and the wrapping paper up in his arms and then races for his front door.  He wrenches it open and stumbles down the steps and across his yard, skidding to a halt by his trashcans where he’s quick to throw box and all inside and slam the top back down.  He’s moving back towards the house almost before he realizes it, and Raylan catches him up in his arms as soon as he’s inside and the door is closed and locked behind them.

“They’ve found us.  They’ve found us, haven’t they, Raylan?”  He knows there’s panic in his voice, in the way his heart is racing, his breath catching in his chest.  Raylan tightens his arms around Darin’s waist and hugs him to his chest.  Darin’s wound too tight to really relax, but the reassuring feel of Raylan’s strong arms around him helps him breathe a bit easier.

“Did you tell anyone, Darin?  Did you tell anyone about seeing me, about the woods and meeting the wolf?  Was there anyone who was too interested?  Too invested?  Think carefully.”  Raylan’s voice is low and steady, almost as gentle as his hands feel, but Darin can hear the tension in the tone, the urgency.

“It’s a small town and word got out easily, Raylan.  There was, I mean, everyone heard about the animals and the flowers and everyone was interested.  Especially when tests said wolf, but I never told anyone about you.  Even then, before this, I knew better somehow than to mention the wolf.”

Raylan looks pleased for a moment and then he’s moving, letting Darin go and ushering him back towards the bedroom with a wide palm on his lower back.  Raylan’s quick to usher Darin into sturdier clothes and a pair of solid hiking boots and then he throws one of the backpacks from the top of the closet down on the bed and turns towards Darin.  His eyes are serious and his hands are firm when they wrap themselves over the curve of his shoulder so they can look one another in the eye.

“I’m sorry for this, Darin. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.  If I could, I’d leave and deal with this alone. I wouldn’t drag you into it any further than I already have with the stupid fucking mistakes I’ve made fumbling around like a newborn pup.  That box was a calling card, a warning of sorts.  The Huntsman knows I’m here, knows that you’re involved somehow.”

Darin’s almost not surprised anymore by how steady he feels.  Looking into Raylan’s warm eyes, feeling his hands on his shoulders and remembering the gaping wound that had slashed across Raylan’s side earlier almost makes it easier.  There’s no fucking way he’s going to let Raylan handle this shit on his own.

“What do you need me to do?”

For a moment Raylan freezes and his hands tighten almost painfully before they loosen abruptly.  Darin recognizes the way triumph flashes briefly across Raylan’s warm gaze.

“I need you to pack, just what you need and anything you absolutely must have because we’re going to have to move quickly, and we can’t be weighted down anymore than necessary.  I’m strong and fast, but we have to be cautious and not take unnecessary risks.  Still you’re going to need things, and I refuse to let you go without.”

Darin doesn’t waste a moment.  He’s moving around his room in a flurry, grabbing clothes and the extra fully stocked first aid kit from the back of his closet.  He even sends Raylan to the kitchen to grab a few things like a flashlight, some packets of trail mix, and the protein bars he always keeps for his hikes.

Raylan’s voice comes to him again when he’s double checking the pack, tightening straps and snapping buckles to make sure everything’s secure.  He sounds almost hesitant, unsure of himself or Darin one, and the sound makes Darin’s heart stutter and his eyes almost prickle with tears.

“I’m telling the truth, you know, about the fact that I’d leave if I could, if it was what you wanted me to do.  I’d walk out and take this all with me and never darken your doorstep again, but I can’t.  There’s no guarantee that there’s only one Huntsman around here, that the one that’s hunting me hasn’t called for backup or is part of a band, and I don’t want to leave you defenseless.  These people, they don’t draw the line at my kind. They believe anyone who willingly consorts with us is equally guilty, and they’ll go after a claimed or mated human first and above all else.  I’ll be damned before I leave you here to be slaughtered.”

Darin stops him with a firm hand to the back of his neck as he goes up onto his toes and claims Raylan’s mouth in short brutal kiss that makes Raylan blink and fall silent.  Darin starts to tell him to shut up, that he’s done more than enough apologizing and that he’s happy to follow him wherever he has to when a thought stops him in his tracks.  He rocks back onto his heels and takes a step away from Raylan as he stares into the middle distance, mind whirling at a million miles an hour.

“Raylan, is there any way to distinguish a Huntsman from everyone else?  I mean, how are we going to know if we’re ever safe if there’s no way to tell who is really who?”  The thought of a future filled with endless running and endless fear isn’t appealing to Darin.  He wants to stay with Raylan, to be with him and run with him if necessary, but it would go a long way towards Darin’s peace of mind if he could at least know
who
he was running from.  That there’s a chance of maybe stopping one day, that they won’t always be back to back in a crowd where everyone is a potential threat that they won’t be able to identify until it’s too late.

Raylan snatches up an abandoned notepad from the bedside table and then searches through the drawer until he finds a pen.  He starts to sketch quickly, roughly, and after only a few moments he seems to regain control of himself because he’s staring directly at Darin even as his hands continue to draw.

“They have a tattoo, all of the Huntsmen my family has ever seen, all of them bear the same mark, the same design.  It’s a pledge, a sign of loyalty to their cause and a sign of warning to my people.  It never changes except for maybe the size or the location.  It’s normally somewhere important, somewhere vital.”  Raylan throws the pen to the side and flips the notebook around so that Darin can see.  “This is what it looks like.”

It’s a coat of arms, done in impressive detail for such rushed work, an ornate shield with a wolf howling at the moon decorating the front.

“They wear it almost like an insult.  They think it’s funny that their symbol is the very creature they’ve sworn to eradicate.”

Raylan’s voice is low and dark and vicious, but Darin can barely hear him, can barely make out what he’s saying through the sound of his own heart beating loudly in his ears.  His stomach is churning, overtaken by a sudden surge of nausea as everything settles into place with an almost audible click.

“Raylan?”  He whispers it, heart in his throat as he stares down at the hasty sketch.

“What’s the matter?”  Raylan’s at his side in a moment, concerned and so focused on his well-being.

“This tattoo, I know it.  I’ve seen it.”  Darin’s voice is shaky just like his knees.

“Where?  On who?”

Darin swallows and coughs, the tension and sudden knowledge resting heavily on his mind for a split second.  Still he opens his mouth and after a split second’s hesitation he spills everything he’s just realized.

“I’ve seen this tattoo on the wrist of someone I met over a year ago, someone I’ve always considered a friend.”  He looks up at Raylan, mouth pursed tightly and the paper crunching in his hands as he unwittingly curls his hands into tight fists.

“Who, Darin?  Give me a name.  I can’t keep us safe if I don’t know who we’re dealing with.”

“Karen, Karen Wickton, another nurse at the hospital where I work.  Karen Wickton has this exact same symbol tattooed to her wrist.”

Chapter Eleven

Raylan curses low and vicious, eyes bright and claws apparent.  Darin feels as if he’s in a haze, as if the knowledge that Karen is the one who’s been trying to kill Raylan hasn’t truly sunk in yet even if all he can think about is how it makes an awful kind of sense.  He remembers the way she’d gone cold and hard at the café that afternoon, the way she’d told him that animals were dangerous and not to be trusted.  Most of all he remembers the flash of ink on her wrist, the tattoo he remembers commenting on before in the past, the shape and color of which he’d found beautiful and the way she’d smiled, all red lips and smoky satisfaction at his words.

“I should have realized.  She was always a bit more interested than the others, a bit quicker to ask questions and listen to me talk.  I just, I thought it was because we were friends, not because she was gathering information for a fucking
hunt
.  Then you always say Hunts
men
and I just didn’t think about her.”  Darin’s hands are wrapped around his pack, knuckles white and nails cutting grooves into the material of the strap that he’s gripping.