Curve Charm (Paranormal BBW Erotic Romance) (6 page)

Knowing most of the guards would want to attend the baby shower, he stopped by to see if he could relieve anyone. Not a bad plan, he thought, right until he opened the office door and saw Camille scowling over an old map.

Poking his head back into the hallway, he frowned. "Are all the guards gone?"

Camille gave a little sniff, her mouth puckering like she was balancing a lemon slice on her tongue. "I think Ash is in one of the supply closets."

Dana angled his head, his ear twitching as he tried to locate Ash. Hearing a few soft, feminine moans coupled with masculine grunts, a smirk pushed one side of his mouth up. "At least someone's getting a little."

The cocky grin evaporated a second later when he struck him that it was his mate's mother he was talking to. Glancing at her, he added a second imaginary slice of lemon inside her mouth. Her whole face puckered with distaste. As far as anyone in the clan knew, Camille had engaged in coitus once. The human or wolf, unknown.

There could be a heartbreaking love story hiding beneath the old witch's bitter shell, but no one knew it, not even her only child. Dana shook his head, trying to dislodge the anger slowly building up inside him.

Looking up, Camille read his hard stare in a heartbeat. "You blame me, don't you?"

Dana bit at his lip, his mind slowly turning over the two decades he had lived with the clan. At six, he'd been found on a North Carolina beach, begging for scraps in his wolf form, the other children happy to throw the "puppy" scraps of their burgers and hot dogs until their parents caught them. Beer bottles and rocks would follow that discovery.

He had only the vaguest memory of the beach and no idea how he got there. Whenever he tried to push beyond to even older memories, his internal eye fixed on the ocean with its bands of blue and green and his first night in Camille's home. As a matter of survival, he'd been in his wolf form for so long, he couldn't remember his way out.

Shivering, wondering if the people who had caught him would feed him again, he'd whimpered in the dark room in which they'd left him. And then she came.

Esme, as alone in her own way as he was in his. The only human child on clan lands, she was a plump, pretty little morsel with eyes that matched the ocean he'd been stolen from. Like the children on the beach, she wanted to stroke his soft fur. She sang to him while she did so, her voice a soft, sweet lisping sing song that stopped his shivering.

He didn't want to leave her side, but they made him. When he escaped to visit her, they disciplined him, foster family after foster family until Seth's father took him in and let him run as wild as Camille would tolerate.

In the end, he'd walked away from Esme on his own, knowing he would never be able to surround her with the children she craved from her own years in isolation and a mother who called her a mistake.

Did he blame Camille? Fuck yes!

Lifting a shoulder, he dismissed her question with the larger truth. "Not nearly as much as I blame myself."

He turned to leave the office, but the witch called him back.

"I may have found something."

He glanced over his shoulder, his attention focused on where one long finger pointed at the map. "What?"

Camille bit her bottom lip, her nail scratching at the map's surface. "It might be an echo, it's very weak."

Dana stepped back into the room, his hand sweeping down to push her finger aside. She had been scratching at a little town called Walland. Traveling on twisting mountain roads, it was maybe ninety minutes past the clan's borders. "Could be someone half dead, too."

He scratched at his chin as he thought it through. "If the Hunters have a latent--"

Seeing Camille's mouth flattened he stopped. "Is it a latent?"

She brushed his hand away. Her elbow resting on the map, she let the string holding a crystal pendant at its end unspool from her palm. "I told you, it might just be an echo."

"A latent's echo?" When Camille did nothing but swallow, he wrapped his fingers around the unmoving pendant. "A cub's?"

"Their signatures are almost the same," Camille answered.

Dana released the pendant, motioning impatiently for her to continue casting. She closed her eyes and he felt a little pull of power as she siphoned off some of his energy to feed her magic. The pendant didn't respond, not even the slightest vibration trembled through its string.

"Walland, that's all you got?" Dana pulled the armory keys from his pocket. He had his gun and holster in the glove box of his truck and a deer rifle on the window rack, but. if he was heading into town, he wanted one of the Bushmaster Carbon 15s.

Camille rose from the desk, trying to block him. "You can't go alone."

He pushed past her into the hallway, growling as he unlocked the armory's door. "Even if Ash is buried balls deep," he stopped and gave a sniff, "in that little redhead we pulled in this weekend, he has to stay here to protect the other latents if anything happens."

"There are plenty of people at the shower, you can--"

He shook his head, rejecting the idea as he freed one of the Bushmasters from the rack, his big hand popping a thirty-round magazine into it before grabbing two more magazines. "You said it's probably an echo."

"Or a trap," she argued. "Or a latent with half a dozen hunters on her trail--"

"Or a cub." He pushed past her again, grabbing one of the two-way radios. "Don't pretend like you suddenly care, witch."

"I don't," Camille snapped. "Not about you. Esme would be devastated."

Dana shook his head, the memory of Esme's last words fresh in his head. "She made it more than clear that's not true."

Herding Camille back into the office, he pressed the radio into her hand and pointed at the map. "Keep casting and keep your mouth shut unless you find anything useful. I'll be back before the party is over."

**********

Three hours later, with no contact from Dana, Camille entered the hall, her gaze searching for her daughter and Seth. She wanted to avoid Esme seeing her while she talked to Dana's pack leader. There was no reason for the girl to start mourning the lone wolf before anyone was certain he was dead. She’d had enough heartache this last month.

She spotted Esme in a far corner, the young witch wearing a scowl as she tried to touch Jack Cooper's head. The old wolf tried to move out of reach but his wife firmly propelled him back toward Esme. Something to do with that headache he'd had, no doubt.

Good. Esme would be too distracted to notice anyone but Jack for a few minutes. Camille ducked behind a very tall, broad-shouldered wolf, her mind so absorbed in picking Seth out from the crowd that she didn't recognize the man sheltering her.

He turned around, his warm, mid-Western accent immediately giving him away. "Good evening, Camille."

"Cade." She acknowledged him with a quick upward glance. "Where is Seth?"

"I hear I have you to thank for almost getting me shredded limb from limb." There was no menace in his voice, just mild curiosity.

"She certainly couldn't have picked her friend's mate." Camille's nose twitched, the magic in her still strong enough to send a little spark of annoyance along its tip. "Not my fault you're the only wolf she's comfortable around besides Seth."

"Actually, it is your fault." His tone flattened, but he didn't press any harder. Extending one finger from the hand wrapped around his glass, he pointed across the hall. "Seth is over there, at the head table. If you ever attended any of these events, you'd know that."

Her fingers flexed, more energy dancing at their ends. She swallowed a knot of pride, wanting to get rid of the wolf next to her but knowing Dana and, by extension, her daughter, would need Cade's help. "Come with me, please."

She walked away, her legs briskly carrying her through the crowd. She expended a small amount of energy on a look-away spell, not enough to prick Esme's radar -- or so she hoped. Not looking behind her to see if Cade followed, she approached the table. Catching Leah's attention first, she offered an apologetic smile before bending down to whisper at Seth.

"Dana is missing."

Seth's brows knitted together for a second before he shook the idea off. "He's somewhere licking his wounds."

"Or letting someone else lick them for him," Cade joked as he reached the table.

Leah's gaze cut through the crowd to land on Esme before flicking back to Cade. The slow burn of green ringing her irises erased Cade's smile. He nudged Camille. "What's this about, then?"

"I was casting for more signatures," she started, her hands coiling and uncoiling around each other. "And I thought I detected something--"

Leah's gasp interrupted the older witch. "Why didn't you notify us?"

Ignoring his plump little mate, Camille kept her gaze on Seth. "It was faint...and fleeting. I could only catch it the one time--somewhere this side of Walland."

Leah interrupted once more. "Esme or I could have casted again. You should have--"

Camille rapped a bony knuckle on the table top. "I was certain it was just an echo, someone having passed through and gone, maybe one of the very latents we're sheltering now or little Oscar."

Seth nodded. "But?"

"The minute I said it could be a cub, Dana left."

"Tell me you didn't let him leave alone?"

Camille straightened like a spring rod at the sound of her daughter's voice. She swiveled her head, not far enough to face Esme, but enough to acknowledge her daughter. "You think he listens to me? To anyone?"

Camille turned back to Seth. "It's been three hours."

Next to her, she heard Esme step to a side table, ordering the couple casually eavesdropping away as she stripped the linen table cloth to expose the wood. She slopped a hand into the cranberries on one plate, squeezing until her fingers were red with their juice. Marking a compass on the table, she chanted. Still chanting, Esme grabbed a nearby candle and spilled the melted wax in the center.

Her words growing in volume, Esme's eyes glazed and then her lips stopped moving. She stumbled backwards, Cade catching her before she hit the ground.

"Ems, where is he?" He hoisted her up, her soft pleading moans as she caught glimpses of her mate being tortured unnerving everyone around her. "Come on, baby girl. Tell me where he is before you pass out."

She tossed her curls, her hands clawing at Cade so he would release her. "He's at the Laurel Mill."

Everyone who heard Esme voice the location froze. Laurel Mill was an unmarked battlefield in the Hunters war on the clan. A former enclave of shifters, the hunters had attacked the location en masse, not a single member of the thirty families surviving.

Camille broke the silence. "There would be plenty of echoes there. Plenty of..."

She trailed off. No one needed a reminder of the cubs who had been herded like sheep into the old building and slaughtered. "I'll go--"

"No." Esme's hand chopped through the air. She pointed at Seth. "I'm going. With or without your permission."

Seth nodded, kissing Leah's cheek as he rose and signaled to the gathered members of his pack. "Let's roll."

**********

Three black vans traveled winding country roads, the Great Smokey Mountains that sheltered the clan's land at their back. Packed into the middle van, Esme continued casting for Dana's location.

There were five male shifters in the van, four in each of the others. Only the drivers were fully clothed. The others wore nothing but loose spandex briefs, their bodies in varying degrees of transformation. Seth sat next to Esme, human enough but for a heavier than usual dusting of body hair and a wolfish point on his ears.

Fidgeting with his rifle's modified stock, Seth growled lightly "If you weren't his mate, you wouldn't be able to locate him this easily."

Esme's hands stopped moving over the map as she glared at Seth. She didn't need the reminder that Dana was her mate. The hard knock of her heart inside her rib cage had reminded her every second of the last hour. She also didn't want to remember that the last words her mate had heard out of her mouth was that she hated him. He'd been reckless to leave the safety of the clan all alone. Guilt that she'd triggered that recklessness weighed her shoulders down.

The driver turned a sharp corner too fast and sent her bouncing. Her head hit against the side of the van, its metal wall ringing with the impact. At the same time, a fist plowed into her face. Her head snapped forward, her vision dancing until she realized she wasn't looking at the van, wasn't even inside her own head.

Her body still traveling inside the van, her lips moved. "No please don't hurt him."

A syringe appeared in front of her face, a man's head just beyond it.

Quentin - the Hunter who had kidnapped her and Leah.

Blood smeared his mouth, but there was no sign of injury. He looked more like he had been snacking on barbecue ribs. The impression was confirmed when he licked the blood from his lips to reveal unmarked skin. "I know your taste, wolf."

His tongue darted out again to catch a stray drop and his eyes rolled back in his head. "That little hint of honey. Now where was that from?"

A leer stretched across his face, turning it into a Halloween mask of sadistic hate. "Oh yes, those two! Quite a set of fighters - an alpha's alpha. What a treat to find them as outliers."

Quentin pressed the plunger just a fraction, something that looked like quicksilver squirting from the tip. "Hunted your little ass for days after I found that tunnel they'd popped you in."

Quentin pulled back for a second, almost as if he admired the wolf sagging in front of him. "What were you, five?"

Hearing no answer from Dana, he pushed against the wolf's chest. A network of black veins stood stark against Dana's flesh. Quentin trailed the needle's tip down Dana's belly, the metal scraping a trail of blood as it moved. "We've still got a clean spot here," he laughed as he tugged the waist of Dana's jeans down to reveal the wolf's lower abdominal muscles.

Quentin pushed the needle in. His thumb lightly caressed the plunger, the pressure too faint to inject the liquid into Dana. When the Hunter lifted his head, Esme felt like he could see her.