Siofra's Song: Book 1 The Broadus Supernatural Society Series Read online

  “Yea, thanks for noticing.” She can feel the blush coming on and she can’t stop it. “Got’em when I was with Cassie in Billings last week. Are Mike and Roman here yet?”

  Mike is Conall’s oldest brother and Roman is the baby of the family, at 20 years old. Roman is an introvert, but Siofra has come to learn that it is because his twin brother Ronald died about five years ago from cancer, so Rome keeps to himself a lot. Siofra has had conversations with him, but about stuff like the weather and how Roan is. He is a nice boy; she wishes he could find a good woman.

  “No, not yet, they’ll be here soon though. They’re never later than 7 on full moon shifts,” he smiles that half smile that burns Siofra’s heart and heads over to the glass door. As he reaches out for it he stops, turns and looks at her, piercing her with those eyes again.

  “Siofra, can I ask you something?” He looks nervous now; she can see a little red creeping up his neck. It’s so damn cute, her heart leaps in her chest.

  “What is it, Conall?” She takes a step closer to him. She’s close enough to really smell him; his deep pine scent lingering in the space between them. She wants to just sink into his chest and have him hold her while she runs her tongue along the defined muscles of his body.

  ‘MMMM, our mate,’ her wolf growls. Peeling the label on her bottle she can feel the blush filling her face and she hopes he’s gonna say what she wants him to say.

  “You wanna go out to dinner with me, um, sometime. Just the two of us?” His tongue darts out, over his bottom lip for only a second, and she can see the hope spark up in his eyes. Those pine green, hot, peering into her soul, eyes. She almost melts on the spot.

  “I’d love to go out to dinner with you, Connie,” she tries to use her sexiest voice and the happiness in his eyes beams out when she looks up at him. She places her hand on his right arm just above the elbow and squeezes just a little. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.” She stands up on her tip-toes and kisses him on the cheek, lingering there, taking in his blood warming scent.

  He snakes his right arm around her waist and pulls her against him. She’s still on her tip-toes and her chest presses along his; her breath catching in her throat from the feeling of his body heat reaching out to her. She can’t take her eyes from his, it’s like they have a padlock on them.

  “Would it be acceptable if I hold your hand once or twice tonight?”

  ‘Could he get anymore cute?’ she thinks to herself.

  “I would like that,” she breathes out, feeling as if she’ll melt onto the floor if he isn’t touching her. She slides her left hand down his shoulder, over his bicep, forearm and wrist, entangling their fingers. Her hand feels so safe in his; small, but safe all the same.

  ‘Finally, he knows we should be his!’ Her wolf growls and she can’t hold it in. The sound emanates from her throat and she startles herself, looking up at him ashamed and putting her hand over her pinched together lips. “Sorry.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment; his eyes just roam her face as she sees his nostrils flare. She can feel his rapid heartbeat; almost matching hers and she can’t keep her thighs from quivering. A loud, feral, possessive growl comes from his chest and he cups her face with his hand tilting it up to his.

  ”Never apologize for what you are. Besides, it was sexy as hell,” he gives her that devilish grin, placing a feather light kiss on the tip of her nose and takes her hand once again.

  “Are you ready for the onslaught of stares and whispers?” Giving her his killer half smile, Conall reaches for the door with his free hand, beer and her hand in the other.

  “Hell yes, bring it on,” she smiles, squeezing his fingers slightly. She is on fire from his touch, her wolf wanting to drop everything and claim him right here, right now. Who cares who watches, but she fights the urge.

  Taking a deep breath in, she watches him open the door and steps out on the porch in tow, but she doesn’t see anyone else. All she can do is look at him and smile.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  As they fully emerge from the house with their hands entwined, Conall reaches behind him to slide the door shut. Siofra takes the second to take in her surroundings, to prepare herself for the first comments. Luckily Susan and Jan have left the porch to join everyone at the fire.

  She also spies Michael and his wife, Sylvia, sitting on a log near his mother Susan. Jason, Jace and Roman are in a tight little huddle near the cooler and grill off to the far left. Conall pulls Siofra gently towards the stairs, breaking her silent observations making her giggle up at him. He returns her look and shakes his head, squeezing her hand gently. If only he knew what holding his hand was doing to Siofra, he’d probably rip her clothes off in a second.

  “Conall! Come over here son!” They both turn to their right to see Clyde Johnson and his second in command, Bubba Smithe, standing over by the shed, beckoning Conall over with waves. Bubba is a man of Native American descent, that’s where his son, Jace, gets his tan skin from; about six foot one and he keeps his hip-length glossy black hair tied back with a rubber band almost always. He shares his amber eyes with Jace, and they are just as startling on the older man as on his son.

  “Be right over!” Conall shouts taking a swig from his beer he casts his gaze to Siofra’s face. “I’ll be right back; don’t let them scare you too much.” He gives her that half grin, kisses her cheek and trots off, leaving her half way in between both spots and feeling utter-ably vulnerable with her heart beating away in her ears.

  Her wolf whines as she watches Conall meet up with his father and other Pack members; his hearty laugh meeting her ears not helping the moment. She takes a deep breath, catching his lingering scent on the breeze and she smiles lightly.

  “Ahh, hell,” she mutters and makes her way over to Mike and Sylvia’s log. Sylvia looks up to see her approach and smiles wide.

  “Fry!!! Oh girl, those jeans look AWESOME on you!” She meets Siofra halfway and grabs her non-beer occupied hand, forcing her to spin around. “Wish I had your butt, girly!”

  “Oh, shut up Syl! Just like I’d LOVE to have your supermodel body AND looks!!” Siofra pulls Sylvia in for a hug.

  Sylvia is about five foot six, twig thin and picturesque with jet black, curly hair and a perfect mix of green-blue eyes. Perfect nose, skin and teeth are offset by a perfectly shaped set of lips. Siofra would trade her ’badonkadonk’ butt any day for those looks.

  “Did you bring the kiddos with you tonight?” Looking around the fire, Siofra doesn’t spot Mike and Sylvia’s kids, 7 year-old Jonathon and 5 year-old Susan.

  “Nah, we dropped them off with Cassie. Saw Roan, gawd he’s getting big, ain’t he?” Sylvia puts her arm around Siofra’s shoulders and Siofra reciprocates, putting her free arm around her lower back, and they walk over to the bench logs.

  Sitting down next to Mike, Sylvia says, “He was trying to walk to keep up with double trouble, my wonderful nephews, and he was squealing his little head off. He actually stumbled over to Susie when she was taking her boots off.” She smiles over to Mike and he nods his head, listening to their conversation as carries on his own with another Pack member; talking about a small barn fire that happened last week.

  “Yeah, he loves being ‘round all the kids. He’s a social butterfly like his father was,” Siofra stops and looks up at Sylvia, trying her hardest to hide the sudden hurt that runs through her. Sylvia has the same little sorrow in her eyes, recalling the story of Roans father. Fry takes a swig from her bottle, realizing she needs a new one, and pats Sylvia on the leg. She gets up in the direction of the cooler, sighing heavily, trying to push the hurt from her heart.

  Siofra spies Jace and Jason, beers in hand, watching Roman scale a nearby oak tree, obviously on a dare. Approaching, she elbows both as she comes up behind them, reaching for the cooler lid.

  “Hey baby girl,” Jace turns and gives her his lady-killer smile, winking at the same time. “No little guy tonight, huh?” Taking a drag from his beer he returns t
o watching Roman in the tree.

  “Nope, jus’ me,” she twists the cap off a Budweiser this time and revels in its difference from the light version. “What the hell did you guys dare him to do this time?” Wedging herself between the two tall onlookers she feels like an ant. Their shoulders are at the level of her ears and she elbows them both to give her a little more room, accepting a rib poke from Jason with a squeal.

  “Just that he wouldn’t be able to hang upside down from the highest branch for more than 30 seconds.” Jason points and Siofra follows the direction. This tree is enormous; maybe 250 feet tall, with thick branches all the way up.

  “What the fu…. What if he falls?” A sudden panic falls over Siofra and her heartbeat starts to pump in her ears. She hates heights. Even simple step ladders bother her; to watch the agile Roman scaling this tree with massive speed makes her want to throw up.

  “He’s a monkey, he’s not gonna fall,” Jace laughs.

  “Look, there he goes, he’s on the branch!” Jason points again. “Just yell when you’re ready Rome!” He yells up.

  “START NOW!” She hears Roman respond, then she sees him sit on the branch and start to flip over, upside down.

  “Ohhhhh,” she puts her fingers over eyes, only to remove them five seconds later to see him hanging there, swinging back and forth like he was playing on some monkey bars.

  “What are you three yelling bout over here?” The smooth sultry voice comes from behind her, followed by strong hands on her shoulders. “What ya looking at?” he whispers, his hot breath cascading over her ear, cheek and neck. Suppressing a shudder, she turns towards him and points upward.

  “Rome is up there, upside down on a dare,” she turns her eyes back to the tree. Conall directs his gaze upward and just shakes his head; the Johnson boys are known for their antics.

  “Judas, ALRIGHT ROME, COME DOWN, YOUR AT A MINUTE!” Jace yells up, “Good job bro!”

  “Damnit, that means I’m out twenty bucks. Shiiitt,” Jason turns and throws his empty bottle in the fire. “Anybody else need one?” He asks, turning to the cooler.

  “Me,” Conall throws his empty in the same fire and accepts the new bottle from his brother. “Why would you bet him twenty? You know he’s a monkey.”

  Siofra doesn’t hear Jason’s reply because her fear of heights has taken over and she’s concentrating on Roman making it down okay. Her fear slowly eases because she realizes why they say he’s a monkey. Roman’s lanky figure hops from limb to limb, shimmying down the trunk space where there are no near branches, and finally jumps down to land perfectly on his feet at the base. He closes the space between him and his onlookers in ten steps or less. He is the tallest of all the Johnson boys after all, towering at almost six foot seven.

  “Roman, you are crazy when you come out of your shell,” she chokes out, still a little shaken by the whole heights thing. She reaches up with both arms and hugs him around the neck when he bends down, putting his arms around her waist and picking her up. His buzzed dark brown hair frames a sternly featured face. Three days’ worth of stubble traces along his sharp jaw line.

  “Oh Fry, didn’t they tell you, I’m part monkey.” Setting her down he starts moving his arms up and down along with his legs, making monkey sounds, reaching over her head and pretending to pick a bug off of Conall and eating it.

  “All you guys are alike, jokesters to the bone!” She playfully punches him in the shoulder and he goes down, splayed out on the ground acting dead. “Ugh, is it eight yet?” She chuckles pretending to kick him.

  As if on cue, the music cuts out and Clyde Johnson’s voice booms out over the group, coming from the back porch. “The time is upon us! All those who wish to participate in the hunt, follow me to the edge of the woods!” Taking the steps, two at a time, he hits the ground running straight past Siofra and the boys, issuing a ruminating howl.

  Stripping out of her down vest, Siofra follows suit and leans her head back, issuing her own version of a howl along with the pack. She grins from ear to ear because she can feel the moon; really feel it like a Werewolf should.

  ‘Ahhh, it’s time to run with our pack,’ her wolf growls, Siofra reciprocating the sound. Looking at the astonishment on the guys’ faces around her, she winks at Conall and takes off after the Alpha and trailing Pack, south to the edge of trees.

  With whoops and shouts she can hear the guys follow her, and then she can feel them at her sides. Roman takes the lead, grinning a long-toothed smile at Siofra; his brown eyes glowing chocolate. Jace is next to run in front, his amber eyes like the harvest moon and he pokes her in the side, letting out a yip of excitement. Jason is on Jace’s heels pushing him along.

  She really wishes she could join them in the shift, all of them already half way to their wolf forms. She swallows hard, forcing the truth that she’ll probably never see her wolf form down into her heart, where it lingers every full moon.

  Finally, they catch up with the rest of the Pack who are all standing at the wood line. They are all panting in anticipation. It’s a good thing no one has to worry about storing clothes because she can smell the booze lingering on more than half of the Pack and they would probably forget where they put them anyways. Whatever Werewolves wear when they shift, appears when they shift back; it’s really convenient that way.

  Conall comes to take her hand on her right side. His eyes are bright green and the air around him is pulsing with the magic of the change. Siofra can feel this pull in her stomach; a strange, warm and pulsating feeling. Her arms start to shake and her mouth erupts with four sharp pains that shoot through it like she’s been shocked.

  “Damn it,” she mumbles and puts her hand to her mouth, bringing her fingers back so she can see them covered in blood. “What the hell?” She peers up at Conall with fear running rampant in her veins. “What’s happening to me?”

  Her voice catches the attention of Clyde and then Bubba Smithe, and they push through the crowd to get to her. Clyde puts his hands on her shoulders and squares her to him.

  “Open up, Siofra,” he commands and she follows the Alpha’s order. “Oh my,” he states reaching his index finger in to prod at the four protruding canines. “Looks like you can shift a little after all, my dear.” He smiles down at her, his eyes the same green as Conall’s. He grasps her cheek and releases her, turning back to the crowd.

  “Into the woods, everyone! Let’s bring back some meat!” The roar of the cheers and the pulse of the magic leave Siofra in awe. She looks up to Conall, looking for an answer.

  “Follow us, Fry,” he smiles right before shifting fully into a waist high, black as night wolf. Siofra runs her fingers through the fur on his neck and a growl rumbles from his chest. He turns his head up to her, piercing her with those damn green eyes, rubbing his muzzle in her hands, and nods his head towards the other three wolves in their group.

  Jace is a russet brown color, a shade darker than his skin and waist high like Conall. He digs his paw in the dirt in anticipation. Roman, almost shoulder height, is chocolate brown in the moon light with his tongue lolling out of his mouth playfully. Jason, black like his brother, lets out a yip and his three amigos follow suit.

  “Here goes nothing,” Siofra mumbles to herself, bounding off on their heels through the dry brush. They fly past tall ferns, pines and bare shrubs. Fallen leaves crunch under paw and foot. Siofra keeps a keen eye on her companions, laughing as they nip at each other. They lope over fallen trees and half dead bushes, then splash through a small creek and up over the embankment.

  When she reaches the other side, Siofra catches the scent of something. She closes her eyes and throws her head back, rolling it from side to side to determine the direction. ‘About 500 yards southeast, whitetail, big buck,’ her wolf whines in anticipation. She manages a sort of yip and her companions turn their heads to watch her bound off into the dark forest.

  Over the meandering stream on the other side, dead logs and brush, Siofra zooms in on the scent. Her companions are
behind her letting her take the lead. She crouches behind a huge blue spruce, the buck just on the other side and up wind. She casts a glance to either side, seeing the boys crouch down and ready to pounce. Her heart is thundering in her chest, her senses overloaded with the idea of a kill and her wolf spurs her into action. She takes a chance and leaps out after the deer.

  Startled the deer takes off east, but Siofra is faster. Kicking off from a tree trunk, she lands on its back, digging her teeth into the back of its neck and hearing the cracking of bone under her jaws. Warm, coppery blood splashes into her mouth and she lets out a deep growl. She releases her hold just long enough to see the boys, one at the back flank, biting and clawing, and the other two on its legs, trying to get it to fall. She uses her legs to swing around, latching onto the bucks’ throat. More warm blood spills out and she can feel it soak into her shirt and pants, seeming to energize her as it does.

  She can feel the beast giving up and it starts to fall to the side she is on. Not wanting to let go, she falls with it and the buck lands on top of her. The weight of it sends a sharp ferocious pain through her right shoulder, but still she hangs on. Siofra feels the buck’s heart stop and the body goes limp, only then does she release. She licks her lips, reveling in the coppery taste and smell that fills her mouth and nose. The blood warms her system and her wolf growls in satisfaction.

  Siofra lies still for a second, catching her breath, the adrenaline still coursing through her. Then, as she starts to move, the pain sets in. It feels like her right arm and shoulder are on fire. She turns to see the antler of the buck has pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the forest floor. Panic sets in as she sees her blood soaking her sleeve and chest of her shirt. She tries to push the bucks head and neck off of her, but can’t help but letting out a whimper of pain when nothing budges.