Page 6 of Homecoming

Startled by his presence, he snaps shut the small black jewelry box and returns it to the pocket of his pants.

Paper and digital maps are strewn across the antique desk and the large room is lined with oak shelving half-filled with books.

“She was supposed to be finishing this off. The books. She was supposed to be moving them out of the small room next door to fill these shelves. Then she wants to buy more books,” he sighs with a smile. “She wants a proper library, but I said she would have to make do with it in here. Though I am starting to wonder if it’s going to be big enough for what she has in mind. I should build one and then maybe she’ll come back. I saw something on the internet with a step-down hot tub inside the library. I bet she’d love that.”

“Darius…” Marco’s nose twinges as he’s drawn toward the antique desk positioned in front of the large window. His nostrils flare as he enjoys the rich, musty smell of leather and books. “She’ll come back. She’s not gone forever. She just needs… some time. Oh, and before you go ahead with the hot tub and library… I’ll tell you now, it’s not a good idea,” he smiles. “Old books don’t like moisture.”

“What do you mean, she needs time? I know you keep saying that, but what does it mean?” Darius takes a breath and, looking at Marco, he opens his eyes wide. “It feels like I haven’t seen her in forever, but I can smell her. I can still smell her scent in the room as if she were here but it's not like it was before. I can’t feel her while she’s a wolf, and it’s been months since we... I miss her so fucking much.”

“Dee, she’s gonna come back. C’mon what the hell’s the matter with you? You know, you need to get out of this room. Go do some stuff outside instead of piling over bills… and paperwork and… What the fuck is all this crap, anyway?” Marco toys with the papers and aerial photographs spread across the desk.

Darius sits straight in the chair. The leather feels soft and supple against his hand and as he gently draws the chair closer to the desk, his fingers caress the arms—the intricate designs etched into the wood trace the gentle curves of the chair’s shape.

Marco studies his friend and, as usual, he notices how impeccably dressed he is. Fresh from the shower, Darius’s immaculate designer clothes make him look as if he’s waiting to do a magazine shoot. He wears a light blue collared shirt—that stretches tight around his arms and begs the attention of his large biceps—and tailored pants. His black hair is perfectly styled, and he reeks of expensive cologne.

“They’re just a few ideas I’ve been working on.” Darius rubs a hand over his face and turning the chair around, faces out of the window to stare across the sunlit lawn.

The scene is idyllic: the barbecue, the people, and wolf pups scampering around on the lawn. Marco stands over his shoulder and smiles. “Looks good, doesn’t it? It’s like the commune finally came to life. People are smiling. Wolf pups playin’. You did this. Dee, you made it right. All this work. All the changes you’ve put in place these past months. It’s startin’ to pay off.”

“Yeah, while Digby takes the credit, because woe-betide a vamp-wolf could do all this.” He stands up and adjusting the waistband of his black pants, scratches the hard muscle of his belly before smoothing the fabric of his shirt.

“C’mon, they all know it’s you pullin’ the strings. They’re…” Marco sighs, “they’re still coming around to the idea of you being here—you being in control. There’s been a lot of changes that have happened pretty damn fast and in a place like this, it just takes time for them to get used to it. That’s all it is. Shifters being here is just one example, but everyone’s coming around to them now—especially Riley. Hell, he’s made such a difference to the she-wolves, and he’s really embracing being part of the community. Did you know he’s been studying wolf culture? Mostly because I think he’s sweet on one of the maternity nurses.” Marco smiles, “I think there’s maybe a little romance going on there—oh sure, he thinks I haven’t noticed, but… she’s a pretty little wolf. And surprisingly, her parents are over the moon about him. C’mon, come down and join us. Get some air. You can’t sit here being king all alone.”

“I’m fine and anyway, I have some things I need to do. These accounts won’t take care of themselves.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Marco concedes. “But you do know I’m here for you, and I know recently it might not have seemed that way. I’ve had my head up my ass, setting up the medical facility, sorting the lease on the pie store with my sister, Jennie and with my cousin’s passing I’ve been helping his son, Nicholas, with the funeral… But I am here for you. C’mon Dee, this can all wait… go be with your team and enjoy the fruits of your hard work.”

“Maybe in a while.” Darius turns back to the desk and strokes a hand over a letter with his name on it. The letter is personal. It has been written on expensive parchment paper with deep blue ink from a fountain pen, and he smiles, appreciating Kat’s fancy handwriting.

“What’s that?” Marco frowns, noticing the way he covets the envelope.

“It’s a letter Kat wrote. She left it for me to read while she was gone, but regretfully I only opened it a few days after Noah called to say she’d delivered the pup.”

“That’s it? Just Kat wrote it? So, what does it say?” Marco queries his friend.

“Nothing much. She explains a few things—about what happened to her.”

“Explains what?” Marco sighs as he rests his butt on the edge of the desk. “Darius, talk to me.”

“She told me in more detail what Travis did to her—how she felt about it. And about Auriel.” Darius looks up and his eyes glower with a wave of deepening anger. His lips curl in a sneer as a darkening fury clouds his features. “You know, I’m going to kill him. He fathered that bastard, Travis, and I’m going to kill him in payment for what he did.”

Darius’s face is stretched in a snarl that reveals a depth of rage and ferocious determination, his eyes deepen into pools of thunder, his lips a razor’s edge. His nostrils boil with each inhale and exhale, the intensity of his anger brewing. “Kat wrote that she thinks Auriel was the one who killed Isabella—slaughtered those from the commune. I don’t know if that’s true, but do you know what is true? Me killing him. I’m going to slaughter him. I’m going to find anything he holds dear, kill it in front of him and then turn him to fuckin’ dust.”

“Darius, be careful. A need for vengeance like this is not a good thing. This Auriel… from what I understand, he embraces being a vamp in a way that you don’t and if it’s true what she wrote, you already know to your cost that makes him dangerous.” Marco’s eyes narrow against the light.

“No, you don’t understand. I can be that kind of monster too—you know I can, and that’s what I’m going to be. I’m going to hurt him so bad. He’s going to pay for everything. He stood by and let his son do that to Kat… and whathedid to Isabella… he’s going to suffer for it all.”

Darius is a fierce, proud man and his eyes fill with a feverish intensity, hardened by the rising need for revenge and retribution. He is a man possessed by a deep-rooted and primal vengeance. His eyes narrow with a steel-like intensity and clenching his jaw he stretches his tall body before he heads to the door.

“Where the hell are you going now? Are you not going to join the party outside? Noah just arrived back. Dee… Dee, wait up—”

Marco watches as his friend hesitates by the door and for a moment, Darius is unmoved. His mind screams out in its search for Kat and he focuses desperately on trying to see her—feel her—and as his thoughts run free, he silently calls out, begging for her to return home.

He stands motionless in the doorway, unable to move. Maybe because he’s trying too hard to listen—hopeful to hear her speak. There’s nothing. Everything remains silent and eventually, he lets go of the door handle and drops his hands at his side as he turns his back on Marco. “Now is not a good time.” He whispers, but the deep sound of his voice echoes the length of the hall that leads from the study. “It’s best if I’m on my own right now.”

Darius walks out of the room and hurries to the end of the hallway, where he opens the door leading outside to the long veranda running the length of the house.

The sun’s rays stream down and hit against his skin like a hammer. The late afternoon heat slams at his body like a wave and as it willows its way inside the cool void of the mansion, the warm air fills his nostrils. He can smell trees, grass, and blossom, mixed with the scent of invisible creatures. The humidity makes it hard to breathe, and he stops to stand still and listen. There’s a sound like that of a whisper against his ear. “Kat?” He questions if he can hear her voice and taking a breath, he wonders why he can’t feel her?

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