Animals were desperate to find sustenance, and when the metallic scent of life was thick in the air they would fight to the death just for a taste.
The car came into view, and he threw the driver’s side door open, maybe with a little more force than was necessary since it now hung on its hinges. He grabbed her just as her body started falling to the left.
He unlatched her seatbelt and cradled her in his arms. He wrapped the blanket around her, and something inside of him tightened at the feel of her head resting on his chest. She was small compared to him, and wholly feminine.
Her underlying fruity scent pierced his senses, overriding the potent aroma of her life-force steadily dripping from the gash on her head. Thayer would be able to fix that as well. His younger brother was a genius where he was a brute.
He didn’t have the training and education that Thayer did, but then again he didn’t venture out of their home unless absolutely necessary. Hunting, exercise, and occasionally sex were about as much as he could handle, and even then his skin felt too tight for his body.
But it was a necessary evil, because if he didn’t do those three things, he’d feel himself get too wild, too confined in his own body. When he got like that he couldn’t control his animal, and things tended to get destroyed.
Deacon made quick work through the woods, knowing time was of the essence. The scent of wood burning and the sight of smoke billowing from the chimney assaulted him just as he broke through the tree line.
The two-story cabin blended in with the surroundings. Deacon and Thayer had built it years ago, a retreat from the outside world that wouldn’t understand them, well, that wouldn’t understand Deacon.
Thayer knew how to handle and control his shit.
He took the front steps two at a time and pushed open the solid wood front door. Thayer was behind his desk, his head bent and a look of concentration on his face. At the sound of Deacon’s arrival he looked up and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
It took him only a second to take in the scene before he stood so fast his chair was pushed back and slammed against the wall.
“What the fuck?” Thayer strode forward, his gaze on the limp female in Deacon’s arms. “What the fuck did you do? What happened?” His brother’s voice wasn’t accusing, but more concerned and frantic. Deacon couldn’t blame him, though.
They both knew Deacon could flip the switch with little to no provocation. It was a curse and a blessing at times.
A blessing because it had saved their asses on more than one occasion, and a curse because he feared he would harm, or worse, kill someone because of it.
“I didn’t harm her.” Thayer reached for her, and Deacon gladly gave her up. What he didn’t like was the sense of loss he felt when she was no longer in his arms.
He needed a drink, like an hour ago. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. Not bothering with a glass, he unscrewed the cap and brought the tip to his mouth, taking a long, much needed drink from it. The open floor plan of the cabin let him watch as his brother carried her to the couch and laid her on it.
Worry ate at him, and he found himself moving toward them, watching as Thayer took the blanket off of her and ran his hands over her body, checking for other injuries.
“From what I can tell it’s only her head that is injured.” His brother looked up at him, a deep scowl on his face.
“What the hell happened?”
Deacon shrugged and brought the bottle to his lips again. “Don’t know. I was out hunting and smelled her blood.” Thayer’s face paled as he looked at him. “Scary shit, yeah?” He knew what Thayer thought, knew that he was surprised as fuck that Deacon hadn’t outright killed her. “I can’t explain why I didn’t attack, but when I saw her my beast calmed, man. Actually fucking purred at the sight of her.”
Thayer rubbed a hand over his jaw and sat back. “Shit, Deacon. What are we supposed to do with her?”
Deacon sat down and rested the bottle on his thigh. “I don’t know, but I do know I couldn’t leave her there to die. If the animals didn’t get to her the weather would have killed her.” Yeah, there was no fucking way he would have left her. “You know all about medical shit. Fix her up, and then when she is well again she can go back to her life.”
Thayer looked at him, his expression serious, like the calm before a storm. “What I’m worried about is you controlling your beast while she’s here. If you had that kind of reaction to her in her unconscious state will you be able to handle your shit when she is up and walking around?”
Deacon let his eyes go over to the sleeping female. He heard the worry in his brother’s voice, and he wanted to assure him he could handle himself, but he knew he couldn’t make that kind of promise.
On the best of days he was hanging on by a thread, on the worst … well, he didn’t even want to think about the bad days. He took in her raven colored hair that fanned around her like a dark halo. With her eyes closed he didn’t know what color they were, and he found himself aching to find out.
The dark, crescent shapes of her lashes were obsidian slashes on her too pale cheeks. Just thinking about her had his skin tightening uncomfortably. The image of her well and leaving had him clenching his hands.
Yeah, this shit was royally fucked up, and so was he.