For The Love of a Friend: Dante and Apollo Read online

  Samuel blinked slowly. “Excuse me?”

  Apollo turned to Dante, leveling his gaze. “I’ll be ready within half an hour.”

  Dante turned slowly to gape at Apollo as the man strode past him to the door without so much as a glance toward Samuel. The afternoon sun streamed into the room as Apollo slipped outside, closing the door softly behind him. Dante stared at the closed door, wondering what in the hell had gotten into his friend. When he turned back around, he could see the very same question echoed on Samuel’s face.

  Samuel’s face turned thoughtful. “He’s going.”

  Chapter 4 – Apollo

  ~~*~~

  “So, are you planning on telling me what that was all about?” Dante asked.

  Apollo glanced at Dante, blinking slowly. “That?”

  Dante came to a stop in a ray of sunshine streaming down through the canopy of trees overhead. Despite the frown of annoyance on his friend’s face, Apollo had to swallow hard as Dante’s brilliant green eyes narrowed on him. There had always been something a bit sharp and a little piercing about being under Dante’s gaze. Dante was the only person who gave Apollo the sensation that he was being read inside and out with only a glance.

  “Yeah, with Father,” Dante said.

  It took Apollo a moment to realize what Dante was talking about, and he only remembered when he forced himself to look away from Dante. It had been a simple matter to Apollo, Dante would need possible backup. While the mountain where they had fought for their lives to rescue a group of kidnapped shamans was by all accounts quiet and empty, Apollo wasn’t going to take any chances. Whatever Samuel might have had in mind for Apollo to do would simply have to wait, Apollo wasn’t going to let his best friend go off into a potentially dangerous area alone.

  “I was going,” Apollo said.

  “Yeah, I got that, since you repeated it several times.”

  Apollo shrugged. “That’s what it was, and is.”

  Considering Samuel hadn’t said anything to him afterward, Apollo didn’t see what the issue was. If there had been an issue, Apollo had no doubt Samuel would have voiced it immediately. He couldn’t help a little flash of amusement, however, that it had taken Dante the better part of almost a full day of traveling for him finally to bring it up.

  Dante snorted. “What? You say it is, so it is?”

  “In this case.”

  Dante raised a brow. “Is this what I get to look forward to for the rest of this little adventure we’re on?”

  Apollo winced. “Please don’t call it that.”

  “What, an adventure?”

  “Yes. Every time we end up on an ‘adventure,’ a lot of crazy or awful things happen. Can we leave the high-flying adventures to Dean and Mikael?”

  Dante rolled his eyes. “Not really, because we get dragged into them whether we like it or not.”

  “It doesn’t mean we should invite adventure into our own lives,” Apollo said.

  “Maybe, but you didn’t answer my question either.”

  It was that little statement which brought another small smile to Apollo’s face. There were few people in Apollo’s life who knew him well enough to know when he was trying to avoid something. Even fewer were willing to call him out on it.

  “I won’t give you trouble. This is your assignment, your expertise, I follow your lead in this,” Apollo told him.

  Dante frowned. “That’s…okay.”

  Apollo waited, curious to see if Dante would explain why he seemed put out by Apollo’s answer. Despite how much Dante was usually free with his opinion, he could be unexpectedly reticent at the most unexplained times. It was one of the few times Apollo couldn’t guess what his friend was thinking or feeling, but he also knew better than to try to pry the information out of Dante. All that would result in was an emotional stone wall smacking Apollo in the face, and a sullen, quiet Dante for hours.

  Apollo smirked. “So lead the way oh glorious leader.”

  Dante jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t start.”

  “I only wish to follow in your stead.”

  Dante narrowed his eyes in warning. “You’re being a shit.”

  Apollo stared back without a shred of expression on his face, blinking slowly. There was no way Dante would buy the feigned innocence, any more than Apollo was buying the warning look on Dante’s face. Dante could grouch, complain, and snarl at anyone he liked, but Apollo knew most of it was little more than flash and smoke, nothing of substance. It was just the way Dante was built, and it worked marvelously to keep the vast majority of people from seeing his vulnerabilities.

  Dante scoffed, shaking his head. “I hate that look.”

  “I don’t have a look,” Apollo insisted.

  “That’s my point. But I can feel you being a shit,” Dante said.

  Apollo chuckled. “I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean.”

  “Yeah, that’s why you always got away with stuff when we were younger. No one would look at that innocent expression and think you were up to anything. They just glanced at me and knew I was full of shit,” Dante snorted.

  “I have the distinct feeling you’re thinking of a specific incident,” Apollo said.

  Dante rolled his eyes. “Incidents. The time Kat got stuck in a tree after challenging me to a race.”

  “I remember you not exactly helping with that. As a matter of fact, you said she wouldn’t make it half as far up as you could,” Apollo pointed out.

  “And you were the one who was supposed to judge us.”

  “Not quite the same as being responsible for it.”

  “The mock battles you and Artemis used to try to pull the rest of us into?”

  Apollo smiled fondly at the memory. Kat might have been the one of their age group who was the best fighter, but Artemis had always been the scrappy one. His twin had loved nothing more than to eat up stories of battles from ages ago, and try to reenact them in as realistic a way as possible when they weren’t being closely monitored. One such attempt had resulted in Artemis’ arm in a sling, though no one had been sure if it had been Dante or Apollo who’d been responsible for it, as both of them had been involved in the same dramatic tussle.

  Apollo hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you have me there. You did take the fall for that one.”

  Dante shook his head, turning to continue walking. “Like I said.”

  “You also let everyone believe you did it and kept telling me to shut up when I tried to say I was part of it,” Apollo pointed out as he followed close behind.

  Dante shrugged. “Yeah, and? They wouldn’t have believed you anyway. Artemis and I were always the ones causing trouble, so why would they believe you? Plus, wouldn’t make sense for all three of us to get into trouble over it.”

  Except Apollo had been just as equally guilty. While it was true that Artemis and Dante were usually the ones getting into the most trouble, Apollo was usually willingly brought along for the ride.

  Once upon a time, it had been the three of them who’d been closest to one another, and just as inseparable. While Mikael and Kat, and eventually Lucille when she was old enough, were family to Apollo and Artemis, there had still been that invisible barrier between them and everyone else. That barrier’s name had been Samuel and the responsibility that came from being the children of The Grove’s alpha. And so those outside that barrier, like the twins and Dante, had bonded together in their own little circle.

  “Our little troublemaker,” Apollo said softly.

  Dante laughed. “That’s me.”

  It was both true and untrue. Dante was at the center of a great deal of trouble they’d gotten into when they were younger, but he wasn’t the ringleader as often as he was accused. Each of them had played their part, but in the end, it had been Dante who took the fall for a great many of the things, fair or not, and often, of his own choosing. For all his griping about taking the fall, Dante was the first to speak up and become the target.

  “You weren’t, though,” A
pollo said.

  Dante looked over his shoulder, frowning. “I wasn’t what?”

  “A troublemaker.”

  Dante gave an ugly snort. “Seriously? You do remember how many fights I got into with some of the older boys, right?”

  Apollo nodded. “I do.”

  “And there were all the times I ‘ran away.’ Which was stupid, because I wasn’t going to go anywhere for long, but they always freaked out when I wandered off. Didn’t stop me, so hey, causing trouble.”

  Sometimes it was too easy to fall into the belief that Dante enjoyed the negative attention he’d received so often growing up. It wasn’t that people disliked him, but in those first few years after he’d been brought to the Grove, some of the children had been less than welcoming. Absorbing the xenophobic views of their parents, who mirrored their alpha, those same children had either left Dante out or had targeted him.

  Even at a young age, Dante hadn’t been one to take anything lying down and had defended himself. It had led to a lot of fights early on and marked Dante as trouble waiting to happen. Apollo hadn’t seen it that way, seeing only someone who wasn’t willing to take mistreatment lying down. Artemis had been just as delighted, though she’d been far more vocal about it.

  “Some of that trouble you got into was just covering someone else’s ass. Don’t think I don’t know that,” Apollo said.

  Dante’s frown deepened, and he turned his attention ahead once more. “Might as well be the one who takes the fall. I was going to anyway.”

  Apollo smiled, though it was marred by the sadness twisting through his chest. Dante would never want to admit it, but he cared deeply for people, even as he hid it behind layer after layer of foul attitude and an even fouler mouth. It was only around Apollo that Dante cast the worst of it aside, but even then, there was a divide between Apollo and the inner Dante. That wall kept Apollo at bay, always careful of what he would say or do, unsure if he should tread too far. He craved to see beyond that wall, to see the things Dante ferreted away from the light of day.

  And once, he almost had.

  Dante stopped, turning to look at him again. Apollo froze, hoping his guilt didn’t show on his face. There was no way Dante could have known Apollo was thinking about that winter night so many years ago.

  “What?” Apollo finally asked.

  “Some of the kids told me you were drawing yesterday.”

  Apollo tilted his head. “You were around the kids?”

  Dante shrugged. “I’m not going to tell them to fuck off; they’re kids. Dunno why they want to be around me, but they’re kids, who the hell knows what’s going on in those tiny little heads of theirs.”

  Apollo chuckled. “I think a lot of people say the same thing about you.”

  “So, drawing again?”

  Apollo shrugged. “The mood struck me.”

  Dante’s expression softened. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. She would be too.”

  Apollo nodded, looking down at the moss-covered ground. “She would.”

  Dante stepped forward, and for one fleeting moment, Apollo thought his friend was going to kiss him. The thought disappeared the moment Dante’s arm slung its way around his neck, but his heart continued to thunder.

  Pulling him close, Dante gave him a sideways hug. “And she would have laughed herself stupid if she’d been there to see you give Father shit like that.”

  The grief that always seemed ready to spring to the front of his mind drew back, as he and Dante’s bodies were pressed together. For a moment, Apollo forgot what he was supposed to be saying, as the deep, primal, musky scent of the wolf filled his nose, followed by the smell that was something Apollo associated only with Dante. Despite the fact that his friend didn’t smoke, Dante always had the faint scent of ash and smoke about him, as though he had at one point walked through a forest fire and had never quite shed the smell. The scent itself was pleasant, the smell of an autumn bonfire, but it was the man it was connected to that Apollo found so distracting.

  “I think Artemis would be pretty happy to see you actually getting along with others too,” Apollo said, making his tone teasing even though he meant every word.

  Dante scoffed. “Don’t push it. I guess I’ve just gotten better at dealing with everyone else’s bullshit is all.”

  Apollo wrapped an arm around Dante’s waist, returning the hug finally. It was the sort of affection Dante only allowed when he was alone with Apollo. It was also the same sort of thing Apollo had never seen him do with anyone else. Even Artemis invited no show of close affection from Dante, and while Apollo couldn’t be sure, he suspected Dante’s bed partners over the years had known very little as well.

  Dante tugged at him. “C’mon, it’ll be another day of walking before we make it there. I want to get this shit over with so we can write off the last of Damien and his bullshit for good.”

  Apollo followed, letting the warmth of Dante’s touch soak into his skin. It wasn’t all he’d ever wanted, but if he ignored the ache in his chest, he could consider it enough.

  Chapter 5 – Dante

  ~~*~~

  The momentary sense of pleasure at having made such good time died away as they strode through the line of trees. The stretch of earth that marked the space between the forest and mountain was only about half a mile wide, but it had seemed so much longer than that in Dante’s mind. His sense of time was a little skewed, and he couldn’t decide if it felt like days, or years, since they’d had to skulk around this very same area in a desperate rescue attempt.

  Apollo looked around. “It seems so…empty now.”

  Dante snorted. “Yeah, without Damien’s goons running around the place, I bet it does.”

  “And there’s been nothing?” Apollo asked.

  “According to the reports Father had been getting. They stopped coming in a while ago, though. The alphas who rule the territories around here don’t want much to do with this place anymore. Some of them because they fucked up and they don’t want to think about how close they came to letting some shithead like Damien boss them around. The rest are just glad it’s done and don’t want to think about it.”

  “So, yes, there’s been nothing.”

  Dante rolled his eyes. “Yeah smart ass, there’s been nothing. Everyone’s staying hands-off, so here we are.”

  Apollo glanced at him. “I didn’t think to ask before, but if the alphas aren’t wanting to bother with the mountain, I would guess that means they don’t know we’re here, do they?”

  “You would be correct. As far as Father’s concerned, he doesn’t know we’re here, and he doesn’t give a shit about what’s going on out here.”

  Apollo frowned. “I always knew you weren’t tracking and scouting.”

  Dante blinked. “This is scouting.”

  “This is skulking.”

  “Yeah, scouting.”

  Apollo looked away, a muscle in his jaw spasming for a moment before his expression went blank. Dante knew that sign and looked around in confusion. What could have possibly pissed Apollo off?

  Dante laughed nervously. “C’mon Apollo; you had to know I wasn’t always going to be doing stuff that was on the up and up, right? I mean, during that stupid war of Damien’s, you helped him break into a human building. We’re not always going to be doing shit by the rules, whether they’re human or werewolf rules.”

  “I did it because it was necessary,” Apollo said.

  “Right, and the stuff I do isn’t necessary,” Dante shot back, feeling his temper flare.

  “And I did it one time because there was no other option.”

  Dante leaned back, eyes widening. “What, just because you had to do it just that once, it’s bad of me to do it more than once?”

  Apollo’s gaze snapped to him. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at then Apollo, and I’m not going to stand around and try to guess what’s going on in your head. Yeah, we’re here without official p
ermission, if we get caught, we’re shit out of luck. So, sorry you signed up for the dirty spy mission, but this is part of what I do to keep our people safe. If you don’t like it, then deal with getting your hands dirty one more time,” Dante ground out, stinging that Apollo of all people would cast judgment on him.

  “I’m not mad at you,” Apollo muttered, looking down at the ground.

  Dante’s temper flickered. “Then, who?”

  Apollo shook his head. “We should probably get moving.”

  His anger died in a wave of cold realization. For all the evidence that Dante had always been at the center of trouble, either attracting it or causing it, Apollo had always seemed to have a blind spot regarding it. Without thinking, Dante had inadvertently dragged Apollo into one of those quiet assignments Father passed to Dante. The very same sort of assignments that while necessary, tended to violate the social and sometimes legal code of both werewolves and humans.

  Apollo wasn’t angry; he was brutally disappointed.

  Dante looked away. “It’s getting dark. I don’t know about you, but this place is going to be bad enough once we have to go crawling around through the tunnels. I don’t want to have to look around this place at night either.”

  “Camp then?” Apollo asked, voice dull.

  Dante glanced at the open land spread out before them, all the way to the mountain towering up toward the horizon. If they were there in an official capacity, an open camp would be viable, and they might even be able to request help from a nearby pack. As it was, they would have to choose a spot deeper in the shadows of the forest, where any fire they had wouldn’t be seen.

  “Yeah. The place we hid out in when we came here with the others isn’t too far off from here. We can find that and use it for the night and set out at sunrise,” Dante told him.

  Apollo nodded slowly. “Good, I would prefer to quit this place as soon as possible.”

  Dante turned, saying nothing as he led the way to the spot he mentioned.

  *****

  Careful not to feed it too much, Dante prodded at the fire as it flickered in the small pit he’d dug hours before. The chances of anyone being around the mountain area were minimal, but Dante wasn’t one to take any chances. He’d been doing this sort of assignment for far too long not to have what he considered a healthy dose of paranoia.