The bus smelled like hell.
Not stinky, unhappy, random yuck. Like blistering, burning, sweat-filled pure hell.
Daniel rested with his cheek against the window, staring out at the mile after mile of low desert. Soon they’d be in the badlands, and then? West Texas.
He didn’t remember leaving home. He’d been drugged into pure idiocy, mad with the agony of being torn from his mate, and trapped in the back of a paddy wagon and howling at the moon.
Daniel sighed softly, trying not to relive that night, but it was an impossibility, especially now knowing he had to go back, face those green eyes, and apologize for hurting one of their own.
It had been a full moon and they had been running, flying over the ground on a hunt when a trio of big males attacked, one taking Declan down with a thud. He smelled the blood of his mate, sharp on the air and he lost his mind, destroying everything in his path. He woke being dragged by strange men to the wagon, his limp body bouncing on the dirt, his mother keening about how he’d destroyed them all, committed murder.
Almost killed his mate.
There was something wrong with him. His wolf was psychotic, just as his mom had said, and he needed help -- violent, awful assistance to fix him.
To protect his mate.
The brotherhood -- Father Vincent, really, because no one else seemed to make the rules -- had forced him into the mold that he deserved to be in. The punishment of not being able to control himself was eternal, endless.
How was he going to do this? Look at Declan and walk away?
How could anyone do that?
Danny still loved him, more than life itself. Of course, it was his love that protected Declan, didn’t it? His control was the only thing that protected his mate now -- from his wolf and from the threat of the Brotherhood itself. His control and the way the rules of his brothers kept him physically weak.
Thank the goddess that Mother had told him that Declan had survived. It was the only reason he didn’t remain dead after the first time they stopped his heart.
He sighed softly, folding and unfolding his note of apology again and again. He was sorry -- so sorry. He would have been the happiest man on earth -- happy with his lover, with his mate. Happy living off the earth, with the cattle and the dogs and the moon. Happy bathing together under the…
Stop it.
Stop.
He shook his head and then dug his fingernails into his wrist, the sharp pain making him shudder with a chill.
There.
There, that was better.
It was a sin to wish for earthly things, to desire what he would never have again. He deserved his pain.
He deserved his shame, his ache, his loss.
He would face his greatest desire and walk away. It was the best thing. It would prove his dedication to the Brotherhood and they would never have to drown him again.
Never.
* * *
Declan stepped back from the last post hole and grinned. He wiped sweat off his face before clapping his hat back on his head. He worked hard, but it was worth it to have his own land, to have a place where he could run safe. He loved it, every bit of it, from the stall mucking to the fence riding.
This land was his, and he knew every fucking inch of it, had defended it from all comers -- human and wolf. Hell, his family was sunk bone-deep here. This had been his folks’ land, his grandparents’ lands, longer.
Now it was his and his alone.
Ever since Mom and Pop had gone up to Colorado, up to his sister’s pack, he’d been completely on his own. A lone wolf. He knew that his folks were happy up in the mountains, though, being spoiled grandparents to seven grandbabies. The pictures they sent were stunning -- Lizzie living in a bowl surrounded by the Rockies. To quote his sister, “It was good to be mated to the alpha.”
A pang of near overwhelming loneliness threatened to crush him. The only thing missing was his mate. Too damned bad his mate hadn’t loved their life like Declan did.
Fucking idiot. One goddamn fight where asses got kicked and the little coward had bolted. The asshole probably wasn’t worth keeping. Fucker.
Didn’t stop Dec from missing him like a sore tooth. Didn’t keep him from jacking off in the middle of the night dreaming about that tight ass, either.
It had been worse for the last week, too. Like a sore tooth that he couldn’t stop poking at. Everything he saw reminded him of that evil, cowardly, yellow son of a bitch.
Everything.
He saw Danny’s eyes in the blue of the sky, smelled Danny in the barn. He even thought he heard the asshole singing to him, howling for him through the night.
It had been sixty-two months. Sixty-two months, one week, and four days, for fuck’s sake.
He threw his shovel down, the damn thing rebounding back and hitting him in the chest.
“Goddamn it!”
His phone rang, vibrating his hip, and he rolled his eyes, thankful for the distraction from his less-than-productive thoughts. If Billy down at the feed store had fucked up that order again. “I swear to God, Berger, if you can’t get this right…”
“Declan?”
He almost dropped the phone in utter shock. Hadn’t he just been thinking it had been five years? Five years since he’d heard that voice, and now it felt like getting a call from a ghost.
“Declan, is it you? This is Daniel. Daniel Reid?” Like he didn’t fucking know. Like he could ever forget.
“Well, hey there, Danny,” he snarled. “You call to tell me you’re getting married or something?”
“No. No, absolutely not. I don’t. I mean. I called to apologize. I need to apologize to you for leaving, for that night, for the whole… fuzzy thing.” The staccato beat of the words maddened him, infuriated him.
He closed his eyes, the sun suddenly seeming too bright, too harsh. He needed the moon, the cool light that made it all make sense. “Well, you go to town, Danny. Knock yourself out. Just don’t expect me to listen.” He hung up and barely stopped himself from tossing the phone in the shit-filled wheelbarrow. “Motherfucker!”
The phone rang again before he could even shove it in his pocket.
“What the hell do you want?” He was fixin’ to get more than a little growly.
“To apologize. I’m… It’s complicated, but I need to apologize, meet you. Just for a couple of minutes. I won’t bother you again, Dec. I swear.”
His teeth ground so hard he figured Danny could hear them. “I’m working. Where are you, anyway?”
“Sitting in the parking lot of Denny’s. The old skating rink is gone. That’s a shame.”
“Here?” Dec stopped short. That made a difference. If Danny was in town, there could be ass-kicking of the most satisfying kind.
“Yes. I came in from the coast. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee. I won’t bother you but for a few minutes.” Desperation poured off his mate’s voice like rancid oil.
“Honey, you’re going to bother me the rest of my life, one way or another.” Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’ll take me twenty to get there.”
“Thank you, Dec. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The line went dead.
Dec pulled his gloves off and slapped them against his thigh. Yep. He’d go kill the son of a bitch. That was what he’d do.
Apologize. Danny wanted to fucking apologize? For what? Being a slimy piece of shit?
Fucker.
He’d best leave all the digging equipment out. He was gonna need a bigger hole.
* * *
The Denny’s was pretty much deserted, with only Earline’s old Pinto out front. Jesus, if Danny was lying to him, he was going to shit a pink Twinkie. There was a skinny old man standing in the lee of the overhang, staying out of the sun, a backpack over one shoulder, but that was it. He stormed toward the door and a familiar voice sounded.
“Dec? Hello?”
He turned toward the wasted, hollow-looking thing standing there, his eyebrows rising. “Danny?”
The man nodded through a curtain of limp hair, smiled at him tentatively through cracked, thin lips. “Yeah. Thanks for coming.”
Jesus. Jesus, that was… Christ, Danny looked…
“What the fuck happened to you, honey?” Danny looked like he was starving, like he had aged sixty years, not five. Christ.
“When?” The curly blond hair was long, dull, the beautiful blue eyes damn near steel gray.
“Start with when you tucked your tail between your legs and ran, then work your way forward.” He wasn’t gonna make this easy. He deserved his pound of flesh, after all.
“I made a mistake. I hurt someone in anger. More than hurt. Killed. I lost control. I understand that now, how wrong I was, how evil. I’ve been doing penance. Mother helped me find a place curb my… baser urges and I’ve been working very hard for years to fix what I did.”
Declan blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. He took a deep breath. Coffee. He had to sit and have coffee before that even made sense. “Inside.”
Danny nodded. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
He wasn’t sure Danny had enough weight on him to open the fucking door. Thank the moon the wind wasn’t blowing.
“You will.” Hell, he wasn’t sure Danny had the money to buy coffee. Those looked like prison clothes, maybe.
Danny asked the hostess for a table in the sun, slid in with the little bag.
“Two coffees, Declan?”
“Water for me, please.” Danny wouldn’t even meet the little girl’s eyes.
“I want coffee. Tell Earline to make it Declan style.”
She nodded, looked at him, eyes wide and curious, but didn’t ask. That was good, because he didn’t have a motherfucking answer. At least he didn’t have one yet.
Danny pawed silently through the menu.
“So.” He knew what he would have. The cowboy burger, rare.
Danny stared at him, those used-to-be-blue eyes just wrong as hell. “I’m sorry for everything, Declan. I’m here to beg for forgiveness.”
“So, what? This is some kind of twelve-step program?” Could you have that for lycanthropy?
Danny laughed softly, and the sound surprised the hell out of him. “In effect, yes. Mother t… took me find people who could help me and, in order to continue my progress, the next step is apologizing to the people I wronged.”
Wow. Wow, he’d always known Sheri Donald was fucking crazy, but this went above and beyond.
“Your mom is a twat, Danny.” She hated their kind and had never forgiven Danny’s father for getting her knocked up with a mutant baby. The poor bastard had left her there, as soon as Danny was born.
Either that or she’d murdered him and buried the body. Declan wouldn’t put it past her.
“Declan!” That was almost a laugh. Almost.
“What? She is. She’s never understood.” He took off his hat, sat it brim up on the table, and he’d be damned if Danny’s nostrils didn’t flare at the scent of his hat band. “You look like shit.”
“You look just like I remember.” Danny gave him this look -- hot and hungry, like Danny was committing every inch of him to memory -- then dropped his eyes. “She died, about a year ago.”
What? Was he supposed to say he was sorry?
The water and coffee hit the table. “Y’all know what you want?”
“Cowboy burger. Rare. Double. Extra fries.” He might as well get something out of it.
“Grits for me, please. No butter. And the fruit cup.”
Earline nodded and left them. Declan grabbed his coffee and drank deep, the motor oil consistency making him happy. “Grits? Fruit? You a fucking vegetarian now?”
“Vegan, actually.”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick. A fucking vegan? “No wonder you look like hell. What are you doing to yourself?”
“Trying to make sure I never lose control again. It’s part of the regimen -- no animal products, no changing, no sex, no temper.”
Seriously? Fucking coward. His hand clenched around his coffee cup, the porcelain creaking. “You left me because you got scared of the wolf? You left me to become a vegan?”
“I left because I killed someone. I don’t… I don’t even remember that night, not really, but when I woke up, there was blood in my mouth and they… There were… Mother explained. I can’t… I can’t control it.” Danny sighed, looked at his hands. “I’ve been thankful every day that it wasn’t you.”
Dec shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Like you could have. We’re… We were mates.”
Danny’s nostrils flared again, the gaunt body shuddering. “Yeah. I. I. Okay. I. Bathroom?”
Danny was up and moving before he could even point.
Declan sat back in his seat, blown away. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
His Danny.
His horny, laughing, bouncy Danny reduced to… a shell.
This was crazy.
They’d been chasing each other for months when he’d finally pounced, grabbed his mate by the nape and loved the man into stupidity. They’d been happy, whole, and then that bitch had to go fuck things up. He was going to skip killing Danny and go kill the man’s mother. Really. She’d done everything in her fucking power to fuck with Danny’s mind -- from refusing to let the man explore things when he was a puppy to preaching about the wolf being pure evil. Now this. Five years of deprivation and whatever else had turned his mate into a shadow. He wanted to howl with it.
Danny came back out, pale and damp with his hair slicked back with water, and slid back into the booth. “Sorry. Been a long few days. Busses, you know?”
“Nope. Never had to ride one.” It would be hell, what with all the smells and shit. Their food came, and Declan stared at the slimy mass of grits Danny had. “You need meat.”
“I can’t.” He watched Danny sniff, though, heard the lean belly snarl. “It’s against the rules.”
“It’s bullshit. You’re a wolf.” He didn’t have to lower his voice for Earline. She was mostly deaf, and she knew a lot more than she let on.
“I’m in control of it. I haven’t changed in years.” Danny picked out a grape, rolled it between his fingers, testing the firmness almost.
“That sucks.” What was he doing here? Declan’s hands were shaking, and he flattened them on the table so no one could tell, even him. “So, do it. Apologize so I can get the fuck out of here. You smell like death.”
“I.” Danny’s cheeks turned almost purple and he dropped his eyes. Declan almost felt ashamed. Almost. Then Danny met his gaze again. “Okay. Right. I’m sorry, Declan. I’m sorry for fighting. I’m sorry for having to leave you. I was out of control, and I should have been stronger. Better. You deserved better.” Those eyes looked like the saddest, most lost things he’d ever seen.
Stupid son of a bitch.
“No. No, I don’t want you to apologize for fighting. That was what you were supposed to do. Defend me. Help me. Have my goddamn back.” He was building up a good, old-fashioned mad-on. “I want to know you regret leaving me like I meant nothing, like I was a piece of shit, without a word or a chance to convince you to stay.”
“Meant nothing? I had to leave. They came and… There were men and… I wouldn’t be here now if they hadn’t made me leave the compound.” Danny looked desperate, painfully hungry for a minute. “I want you more than I want to breathe, but you make the wildness inside me huge and I can’t go through that again!”
“That’s because that’s who we are, what we’re supposed to be. It’s you. God.” He shoved the hamburger away and threw a twenty down on the table. “Well, you apologized. Go you, honey. Five years of trying to get past you, and you pull this shit.”
“I’m sorry. Wait. Will you sign this? Please? They won’t let me back in without proof and I…” Danny grabbed his twenty, pushed it back toward him along with a paper. “I promise to leave you alone, Declan. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Declan planted his hands on the table, staring right into Danny’s eyes, watching his own reflection inside the huge, dilated pupils. “I am not signing anything, honey. I am not your mentor or your parole officer or whatever.”
“Oh.” Danny stared back for a heartbeat -- expression utterly lost, defeated, broken -- before instinct had Declan’s submissive lover look away. “Right. I’ll go.”
A rumpled twenty and a ten were tossed on the table and Danny bolted, leaving the paper behind, along with two uneaten meals. Declan picked up the paper, staring at it, trying to make sense of this shit. There was all this typed mumbo-jumbo about facing your life, about chastity and sacrifice and poverty and sin. About denying the moon. About penance and pain. Sick shit.
At the bottom, though, Danny had confessions written down in his familiar, spiky script.
“I dream about him every night.”
“I hear his call and nothing drowns it out.”
“I’m doing this to keep him safe from me.”
“I will do anything -- anything -- to keep him safe.”
Declan was going to kill something. A pure rage poured through him, burning out his anger at his poor, broken mate.
He crumpled the paper in his fist and headed out, trailing his mate. He was going to kill someone, sure, but at this point it wouldn’t be Danny.