Raining Kisses (The Opeth Pack Saga Book 2) (14 page)

* * *

N
icholaus jerked awake
. Someone stirred beside him. Looking to his side, he saw Katarina huddled tightly to him. Her fingers dug into his arm and would have caused a normal human to wince. She looked so heartrending, her red hair spilling over her naked body, blanketing her. At his other side, Krystyna wasn’t cuddled close to him like Katarina was. In fact, there was a bit of distance between them. Her arms were hidden beneath the blankets. What was going on? She usually snuggled as close as Katarina.

A noise brought his attention toward the window.

Careful not to wake either of them, Nicholaus slid off the bed. He found his pants, slid them on and shoved a shirt over his head. He set a hand on the sill, peered out the window into the dim light.

People, no, wolves, he scented them, milled about the streets. It looked like
Szentendré
had been overrun by wolves. None of them looked like tourists or locals, or even humans.

A closer sniff revealed Turkish spice, coffee, campfire smell.

He felt a burning in his stomach. Something was about to go down that he didn’t want to be a part of. Glancing back at both his lovers, then back down street, he spotted several wolves were gathering around. Unable to make out what they were saying, he scanned the area for an exit. No such luck. The front exit was blocked off by numerous wolves, a few of whom had pistols. There was a back exit, but it would most likely be guarded too.

What the hell were the Turkish wolves doing here anyway? Were they tracking him and his lovers? Why? How had they found him?

He ran his hand down his face, looked back out the window and caught sight of the lone wolf strolling through the crowd. Taller than most people, the lone wolf stood proudly. Dressed in a formal green military coat and slacks, knee high boots finished off the outfit. Of course the sword at his side added to the regal look.

Beady eyes, dark, neatly trimmed hair, moustache and dark skin gave away his Turkish heritage.

The stranger approached several villagers, then walked until they stood in front of the inn. Unable to make out the language, he looked back at his lovers and thought it time to rouse them.

Nicholaus felt that burn in the pit of his stomach grow heavier as he watched fingers being pointed toward the inn. Bile rose in his gut. This was the reason he stayed away from the pack. When he was gone, none of this shit ever happened. Swallowing hard, Nicholaus walked over to the edge of the bed. Gently, he shook Krystyna.

She stirred and opened her eyes. “Nicholaus, what’s going on?”

“Wake Katarina. We have to get the hell out of here.”

Krystyna sat up and shoved the covers off. Quickly running into the bathroom, she returned a moment later dressed. “Katarina,” she whispered hoarsely, “wake up.” She shot a glance at Nicholaus. “I smell gunpowder.”

“Yeah. Soldiers from the Turkish army are outside. It looks like they’re invading this town, but there has been no violence.” Yet.

“That’s already a good start, right?”

Katarina stirred and dressed quickly. She ran to the window and looked out at the street and back to Nicholaus, worry wearing on her tired face. “What are we going to do?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know just yet.”

He tugged them toward the door and opened it slowly. Looking cautiously down the hall, he calculated the distance from the room to the stairs to the exit, knew it was going to be a tough run thanks to the compact size of the hallways in such an old building.

The staircase would be a bottleneck.

Of course if they could make it that far…then what?

They were on the second story. The fall wouldn't kill them but it wasn't the healthiest thing for fully grown wolves to do either. Especially since in Nicholaus’s condition, he hadn’t spent this much time in his natural state since he left the country.

Maybe something would break their fall.

If they could get outside, they could run between buildings but that cover would last what, ten, maybe fifteen minutes?

“Fuck it.”

Nicholaus pulled them toward the window. A quick peek out the window revealed no threat other than jumping from the second story. If he rolled when he landed, he could mitigate some of the pain from the fall. At the very least he could also catch both his lovers.

He heard Krystyna sigh. Glaring at her, he dropped his human magic and pawed the ground.
I’ll go first. Katarina, follow Krystyna.

Neither responded. He wasn’t running away this time, he was guiding them to safety, so they could return to Albuquerque and be together. They needed to get the fuck out of Hungary and fast.

Bracing himself, Nicholaus raced toward the window and lunged into the air. He burst through it, landed rolling on the ground and crashed into the wall of the next building.

He saw stars for a moment before the clarity of someone yelling brought reality slamming back into focus.

“I heard a window break! Surround all sides of the building!” A voice yelled in the distance.

“
Francba!”
Shit! Looking up at the broken window, Nicholaus saw Katarina and Krystyna poking their heads out.

Are you okay?

Stay there.
He licked his loins. Standing in human form, he stumbled and slumped against the wall. He forced himself to lift his head. His body ached now, but he could move. Closing his eyes, he focused his thoughts on morphing his appearance just slightly to erase some of the more Hungarian features.

A few soldiers appeared in front of Nicholaus, pointed guns at him. “It’s just a damn drunk,” one declared. “Nothing to get excited about.”

Nicholaus raised his head slowly, aware of blood trickling down his face. “What’s going on?”

“None of your business, old man. Just make sure that when General Savas comes through later today, you are either cleaned up or not here.”

“What the fuck is Savas doing here?”

“Don’t—” the man lifted a boot to kick Nicholaus.

Nicholaus caught the foot and pulled the man to the ground. He bared fangs. “Don’t what?”

Two other soldiers rushed Nicholaus, knocking him down.

He’d rolled a few feet away, pain lacing through him with each tumble against the cobblestone. Standing, he dropped his human magic again. He snarled, dipped his head low, set his ears back and glared.

“We’ll play your game, Magyar.” The tallest soldier dropped his gun and his magic. The other two soldiers beside him did the same thing.

Nicholaus made sure to keep one wall at his back. The three wolves surrounded him.
This is about to get bad.

You think so Magyar? It’s about time you learned your place.

And a damn Turk is going to teach me that place? Hardly!
It started in his head and worked down through his body, the violence fetish. This would end bloody but they were threatened his lovers. Nicholaus growled, lunging at the wolf in the center.

As soon as he connected with his target, the other two jumped on him.

Claws dug into his sides. He snarled, whipped his head around and snapped down on the leg in front of him, breaking it.

Jaws released his neck followed by a loud yelp. Blood gushed from the new wound onto Nicholaus's muzzle. He wanted to lap at the blood, drink it in but found no time if he wanted to avoid the onslaught of another attack. Instead, he jumped away and shoved himself back into the pile, slamming hard enough into two of the wolves to knock them off balance.

The trio rolled along the ground until they crashed into a building.

Someone screamed in the background.

That violence fetish reared its head and Nicholaus began to see things in a red hue. He groaned, braced himself for another attack.

The third wolf wiped blood from his muzzle and glared at Nicholaus. Anger smoldered in bright yellow eyes.
You may be quick, but we have the upper hand.

Nicholaus shook his head.
What are you talking about?

The other wolf motioned toward the broken window.

Nicholaus looked up and saw guards surrounding Krystyna and Katarina. “We have the murderer and her companion! Savas will be proud.”

Shit was about to go from worse, to totally fucked. He looked at the window, took a step forward but stopped when he heard someone cough behind him.

“I wouldn’t go to their aid, if I were you. General Savas will be here shortly to escort them back to our country.”

Nicholaus took a step closer to the new soldier. Dressed in traditional Turkish military garb clothes, he stood with his sword at his thigh. The man’s dark eyes held something other than contempt. Anger? Fear? And what for?

None of that mattered when he saw the armed guards manhandling his mates. Krystyna screamed, tried to force them off her but they overpowered her.

“The one is a murderous woman who betrayed Savas. The other is just lucky, I suppose.” He shrugged and smirked. “It’s of no concern to me. I am only here to help reclaim what once belonged to the Turkish wolves.”

Fury heated his skin. He clenched his fists, “What right do you think you have to any part of this land? It was never yours and it belongs to the inhabitants, not the fucking foreign menace.”

The decorated general closed the distance between Nicholaus and himself and threw a fist across Nicholaus’ jaw.

Nicholaus spun and stumbled, catching himself on the wall with both hands before he spat blood on the ground and faced the general.

The general backed up and took an offensive stance.

“That’s what right I have. Do not question my generals, or me, and you will live another day. I am with General Savas, leader of this band of wolves and we will make our presence known. We," he beat his chest, “will be reclaiming what is ours and taking that which is available to us. It is our destiny.”

Rage simmered just beneath the surface of Nicholaus’ skin. Irritated at how confidence radiated off the man, despite the obvious smell of fear, Nicholaus spat more blood at Savas’ feet and glared at him. “You are barking up the wrong god damn tree with this one, pal.”

“Oh?” The other wolf quirked a brow. “Just because you're that dying pack? Oh, wait you haven't been around in years I've been told. You have no idea how they've been reduced to nothing. If memory serves, I was reminded that you’re the foreigner now.”

Nicholaus said nothing. He had no idea what the bastard was yakking about but he needed to play this close to his chest, wait for an opportunity. The wolf in him wanted blood, the man needed a calculated opening with more of a guarantee of survival than he presently perceived. “You're messing with Opeth Pack. Do you know…” He let the words trail off when humor flashed across the general’s face.

“That tired pack? The last time that pack was worth a damn was…” The general scratched his head. “Not in our lifetime.”

Nicholaus growled.

“You know I’m right.”

He had a point but Nicholaus wasn't about to admit that. Yes, his pack had been decimated over the years. Loss of Elders, Kiba's death and now an Alpha who couldn't get shit together? Yeah, a pack worth fighting for. Still, the pack he scorned deserved defending, if only for his mates. “Fuck you.”

The general rushed Nicholaus again.

Nicholaus was ready this time. Catching the man’s fist, he bent the man’s arm behind his back and slammed him into the wall. Twisting his own elbow, he cocked the man across the jaw and again in the neck. He snarled at the general and took another swing.

Eyes wide as flashbulbs, the general coughed blood and spat out a tooth.

Pulling a large knife from the general's sheath, Nicholaus pinned Savas against the wall with enough pressure that he'd drawn blood. The coppery smell beckoned to Nicholaus, urging him to end things and move onto the next target. Nicholaus blinked, regained control over the wolf's mind. “Tell your men to let them go.”

The general looked up and laughed. “I do not fear you, Magyar.”

His voice dropped. “And I do not fear killing you.”

The last sound Nicholaus heard was the strangled laugh before the spine snapped and the other soldiers beat feet out of the alleyway.

Fucking cowards.

I
t took
a second but he caught his breath and looked at the window he'd jumped from. Yup, still broken and what do you know?

No sign of his lovers.

The smart play would have been to run and get the hell out of dodge but he couldn't do that without his mates. Nicholaus ran through the street to the front of the inn, aware of every wound he'd had from the fight earlier. Peering around the corner, he spotted only a few guards who seemed nonchalant to their surroundings.

No one else around meant Nicholaus could attack in plain sight and the two guards wouldn't see it coming.

He stepped out, whistled and caught the attention of the two morons before they’d both been knocked unconscious. They fell against the wall and slid to the ground with a loud thump.

A third soldier stepped outside, spotted his fallen comrades. “You, stop right there!” Raising his gun at Nicholaus, he barely had the barrel pointed before Nicholaus reached for the man’s arm, shoved it out of the way and grabbed his wrist. Pulling the man toward him, Nicholaus caught him in the jaw with his elbow.

The man’s head spun.

Nicholaus reversed his elbow, catching the man on the other side of his jaw, before punching him straight in the neck. The gun in his hand fell to the floor, clacking against the stone.

The man flinched and dropped to the ground.

Nicholaus picked up the gun and fired off two shots into each guard. Throwing the gun aside, he ducked into the alley and waited. A beat passed.

Nothing.

The march of soldiers’ boots against the cobblestone street a few streets off made him turn his head. Dashing to the front of the inn, he peeked around the corner and waited. A moment later, several soldiers came down the street, marching in line. Led by a tall, bearded man with his sword drawn, they marched in unison. The commander stopped and his troops stopped behind him. Another general ran up to the leader and whispered something in his ear. The commander turned and faced Nicholaus’ direction.

“Bring Krystyna to me.”

Savas.
Nicholaus swallowed hard. Two guards led Krystyna and Katarina out into the street, shoving them hard enough that they tripped and fell to the ground.

“We meet again, Krys.” Savas’ eyes met Krystyna’s. He took her chin in hand and lifted it, gripping her hard enough that she strained to keep up.

Nicholaus grit his teeth.
Wait a moment. Just wait. Patience,
he reminded himself.

Krystyna jerked her head away and wrapped her arms around her frame. “I have nothing to say to you.”

She knew this guy?
What the hell was going on?

“You ran from me after promising you'd be our pack witch. Then you made your way back to your village in the Balatonföldár. Was he there?”

Nicholaus didn't miss the burning ire in her eyes. “That is no concern of yours.”

Savas covered the distance between him and Krystyna, fisted a handful of hair and yanked her toward him. He slapped her across the face hard enough she’d have bruised if she were human. As it was, she’d have a mark.

“Leave her alone.” Before he knew it, he’d strode into the street, eyes filled with hateful menace and a craving for blood. Lots and lots of blood and guts. And violence, the more he could inflict on this army, the happier he'd be.

Savas turned his head. Beady eyes focused on him, lips curled upward in a sneer. “You must be Nicholaus, the abandoner.”

Nicholaus crouched and readied himself to attack.

“I’d think twice about that if I were you. I fear you may not know the entire story.”

The overconfident asshole's words gave Nicholaus pause. “What are you talking about?"

“Savas, it is none of his business.” She turned a sad glare at Nicholaus. “Please, leave this to me, Nicholaus.”

The panic in her voice scared him. Something the fuck was definitely up. Nicholaus shook his head. “Katarina, what is she talking about?”

Katarina rose to her feet but hung her head.

"Katarina?" Nicholaus waited for the shoe to drop. In situations like this, shit usually fell hard and fast and without remorse. His experiences had been limited to humans of course. Wolves were more passionate, so the hurt came even bigger, but was no less of a surprise when it did.

Savas clicked his tongue. “You’ve been deceived, Magyar. What was once yours is now mine because you left. She ran to me one night in an act of rage. God,” Savas turned to Krystyna, “you felt so good.”

Nicholaus balled his fists. “She would never do such a thing.”

“Indeed? Would she?” A cruel hold on her shoulders forced her to face Nicholaus. “Tell him what we’d talked about, my pretty. Tell him the things you told me about how angry you were at his leaving. Tell him—”

“No!” Krystyna cut him off and struggled against his grip before being shook into compliance. “No more. I will not.”

“Krystyna, you…” Nicholaus’ jaw dropped. “You slept with this guy?”

A smug smile crossed Savas’ face. His eyes narrowed. “Quite a few times.”

Her eyes moved from right to left, her lips parted to reply, but nothing came out.

Katarina buried her head in her hands and began crying.

Krystyna’s eyes widened. “Nicholaus you don’t know the entire story and—”

Slowly, he closed his eyes. Let out a breath and dragged in another before forcing air out. “Katarina, you knew, didn't you?”

She lifted her head, shook in the affirmative. Her eyes held remorse and her shoulders slumped. She looked down at the ground and clasped her hands together.

“And the two of you...” He turned to Savas.

The general stroked his beard and eyed Nicholaus. “She promised me a child if you never returned. She promised to take over as healer for our pack.”

“You’re lacking healers is a sign of Prophecy, Savas.”

“You’re bluffing. You’ve been absent for what,” he checked the watch on his wrist, “twenty some odd years now? You know nothing of prophecy. Shit has changed, boy. It’s a new world out here and our pack will be the ones to open the gates to paradise. Her only fault was backing the wrong team until I came into town.”

Nicholaus wanted to wipe the sneer off the man’s cocky face, but forced himself to keep his cool. There had to be some other explanation. “We’ve performed the blood rite. You have no claim to her.”

“Do you,” Savas cocked a furry brow, “think that matters? Do you feel any enhancements? Did you notice what happened when I captured your former mates?”

Nicholaus shook his head.

“I didn’t think you'd understand. All that ritual is an old magic that’s been long dead. It hasn't been done in centuries by anyone and certainly not by wolves. We mate for life, right?”

“Krystyna, you…” He reached for her but her posture stiffened. “You’d betray the pack, you'd betray us?”

She remained silent.

Nicholaus' jaw ticked. “Answer me!”

Savas laughed, a deep, rich and annoying sound.

Nicholaus stepped closer, tried to touch her again but the contact of his hand on her shoulder only made her tense even more. “Why?

Krystyna buried her face in her hands. “I took what I needed because you weren’t here. He was convenient, Nicholaus. Just—”

Savas put a hand over her mouth. “A fling. I know. And a way to strike back at Hungary’s most precious wolf pack, one way to take vengeance for losing what was once Turkish land.”

Angry slits glared at Savas. Krystyna yanked his hand from her mouth. “Are we going to do this?”

Nodding, his smile widened. “My pack comes from a long line of warriors. I am the last of that breed of fine Turkish fighters and needed a child. When you were out that one day, it was obvious what I had to do.”

The world had finally taken everything from him. And now Krystyna was severing ties too.

She angled her body away from him, her expression solemn. She jerked her head away. “Go Nicholaus. This is my fight.”

He readied his fists, frowned hard and started mentally counting the number of troops he’d be able to take out before they killed him. Meanwhile, he needed to buy time. “I can help you if—”

“Go!” She pointed in the direction of their home.

Her home, not his. He didn’t belong here.

“I don’t want this, Nicholaus. You said it yourself. This isn’t your fight, and it never has been. So leave.”

Finally, his blood began boiling and roiling hatred seethed through his veins. He set his gaze on Savas, saw the men point rifles at him. His lip curled up. “None of this shit matters. You know what, I’m done. I’m out. You want this? Fucking have it. Prophecy be damned.”

“You’d be wise to leave now.” The general lifted his head, cleared his throat and appeared to be looking down his nose at Nicholaus.

The angry violence loving beast inside Nicholaus screamed at how wrong this was, but the human wasn't stupid. This wasn't a situation Nicholaus could win. He swore he’d never interfere with free will. Krystyna was a lost cause and so was Katarina. Savas had won, had stripped him of everything. The world had shit on him finally and broke him. Turning his back on her, Nicholaus began walking down the street.

“You would not be able to stop me anyway, Magyar.” Savas crossed his arms over his chest, lifted his chin up. His gaze wasn’t quite on Nicholaus, more upwards as though he were looking through the enemy, rather than at him.

Not a single soldier stopped him. In fact, they parted for him and only gave looks of pity for the defeated Hungarian wolf.

Savas's words could be heard over the pounding silence. “Let him go, Krystyna. He has abandoned you. Again.”

Nicholaus glared over his shoulder at them. “
Húzz a picsába!
” Fuck off!

“Nicholaus, no!” Katarina screamed but he kept walking down the street.

“I told you we'd always win. I told you, foreigner. Go home,” Savas shouted, his words erupting into a sinister laughter.

The truth was, Nicholaus was outnumbered, out gunned, and even with what Les had wrongly called his ‘gift’ he still would not come out of this alive, with both mates intact.

Katarina didn’t even try to stop him, other than to yell after him. He heard the soldiers grip her, putting their dirty hands on her to drag her back with Krystyna. The thought made him even angrier and he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. Blood pooled in his ears, the sound deafening.

Considering she’d probably be shot if she tried, he couldn’t blame her. Though he wasn’t going to give the Turkish general the response he wanted. Instead, he kept walking until he’d reached the end of the Szentendré and onto the main highway.

“You fucking lied to me, Krystyna! You and that damned Kiba with his bullshit about a bullshit prophecy! Fuck you both!” He slammed his fist against the wall of a building, turning his knuckles white.

Shedding the illusion of being a man, he dropped to all fours and took off running, letting anger and pain surge through him.
How could she do this to us? To me?

Bile rose in his stomach. He’d been tossed aside like a common dog and for what? For a lie?

Nicholaus kept running down the highway toward Budapest. He’d end up on a plane and make his way back to Albuquerque by midnight tomorrow. “She’ll come find you and I won’t stop her this time.” Words echoed in his head that Krystyna had said to him only two days earlier.

But still, she’d had an affair with Savas. The past two days of lovemaking and conversation flashed in his head. The lies all became a blur when he stepped on the plane and knocked back his first drink.

His breathing finally slowed when he took a third shot of vodka and matched it with Hungarian Unicum.

Nicholaus couldn’t wait to come back to Albuquerque where he had several bottles to help him forget his lovers.

Except he’d just be coming to the place he lived in, not his home.

* * *

S
wiping
his keycard on the plate outside the Quickel Building, Nicholaus pulled the glass door open and walked to the elevator. He swiped his card against the elevator reader and headed up to the third floor where his loft was. The scent in the air changed. Something—no,
someone
—was in his loft waiting for him. Hints of vanilla and earth floated over his nose. There was a woman. And perhaps a man.

He opened the door and walked cautiously down the long makeshift hallway, stopping at the corner where the thermostat controls were mounted. Looking in the glass, he saw a short redhead sitting on his couch wearing a floor length skirt. Red hair cascaded over her shoulders and breasts, hiding her figure from view. It didn’t take him but a second to realize Selene had grown up and was now sitting on his couch.

She didn’t even look up to say, “Come in, Nicholaus.”

“What do you want, Selene?” He growled and slammed a hand into the drywall before making his way down the hallway.

“To know why you left your mate in the hands of a Turkish general,” a male voice drew his attention away from Selene.

Nicholaus turned to see a tall male with long dark hair hanging over broad shoulders. Dressed in black from head to toe, the aura emanating from him seemed menacing. Weathered features showed stress, not actual appearance, as though the wolf wasn't trying to hide his stress levels through magic. He met the intruder's eyes, spotted the iciness in those cold blue irises. “What the fuck are you talking about? And who are you?”