“I don’t want to drink a stranger’s blood as if I’m a vampire,” I rebuked. It was more than just drinking from a stranger; I was devolving into something I didn’t want to be. I wasn’t remotely like any vampire. I didn’t have light sensitivity, as they’d had before we’d changed that. A stake through my heart would hurt, but I wouldn’t go through reversion as vampires did. Both were-animals and vampires possessed preternatural strength, speed, and healing. I didn’t know which traits I could attribute to the vampire and which to the were-animal in me. I didn’t possess an aversion to silver, either. I didn’t know what I could attribute to Maya. Could I be some odd hybrid?
“Then what do you want, Sky? I felt your need last night. It was lust. You might not want to accept it, but you were in the throes of bloodlust. It was strong.”
“Then it can be you. I’ll use you,” I asserted. His jaw clenched as he looked down at the floor. I knew he didn’t want to be a willing donor. I felt selfish for requesting it. “Unless you don’t want to do it?
He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it. “No, I don’t want to do it. I don’t like the idea of being anyone’s meal, but if this is what you need, then I’ll do it.”
“Wow, be still my heart. Your sexy sonnet is making me swoon.”
He chuckled. “Would you prefer me to lie and tell you how much I enjoyed it and would love to be your daily meal?”
“Exactly. Now if you can do that with a little more enthusiasm, we can move on from here,” I teased.
He made a face and came closer. He grabbed my fork, scooped up a piece of cake, and held it. I opened my mouth, expecting him to give it to me; instead, he turned the fork around and shoved it in his mouth. He laid the fork down on the table and headed for the bedroom.
“You can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“I know. And you know I’m okay with that, right?” He turned and flashed me a smile, but it lacked enthusiasm. My need for more blood wasn’t the only thing going through his mind. He stopped midstep. “That was your first time staving off the change at a full moon.” He moved closer to me, intrigue filling his eyes.
I nodded. “I’ve never had to. I’ve wanted to many times but couldn’t.”
“But you did it yesterday.”
“It was a matter of life and death. Do you think they would have allowed us to leave if I’d changed? I did what was necessary.”
“Sky, it’s not that easy. It took months before I could control my change, and it took Sebastian just as long. Most of the unranked were-animals can’t do it at all.” A smile danced over his lips, and his face brightened. The smile I didn’t mind, but the look he gave me seemed dubious.
“We need to give you more responsibilities in the pack. Maybe you can teach others how to hold off the change.”
I took a strawberry off the plate of fruit he’d laid out and nibbled on it. “No, thank you. I’m content with my role as Gavin’s ‘kitty wrangler.’ If I could give that job away, I would.”
“It really wasn’t a request, Sky. As Beta—” He stopped abruptly. He brushed his lips lightly against my cheek before retreating into the bedroom. Before he disappeared into the room, he said, “You can start in a couple of days. I’ll set it up. Start with the strongest of the pack—it should be easier.”
I didn’t argue because it was a skill most were-animals should learn. In my case, it had saved our lives; others might need to do the same. Teaching other were-animals to delay change when called wasn’t nearly as troubling as trying to figure out what was going on with my body. I was having a hard time making light of the situation. Ethan was right. What I’d experienced last night hadn’t just been a craving but full-blown lust. Ethan had smelled so good I’d wanted him, and not just sexually. Part of me had wanted to devour him.
CHAPTER 14
Dexter, Andrew, and the Red Blood wouldn’t be tied up in a neat little bow no matter how hard we wished. Ethan seemed just as irritated about being asked to come down to the police station as I was. I was doing a better job at hiding it, though, as the officer questioned us about who shot and killed Andrew.
“I just have a few questions since you left so quickly.” The cop looked me over. “How are you doing, Ms. Brooks?”
“Better than yesterday.”
Taking my quiet response as anxiety, he gave me a sympathetic smile. “Did you know them?”
I decided to take the same approach I’d taken with my abductors and give him a variation of the truth. “I met Dexter at a bar. He was quite obnoxious and behaved the same way when I saw him later in court.” Which was partially true. I’d first met Dexter in his bar when we’d questioned him about Kelly’s disappearance, and he had been insufferable.
The cop’s brow rose. He shifted to look at Ethan, and I could see the recognition in his eyes. Ethan wasn’t just an attorney—he was that attorney. The one representing the case that had escalated to a media circus. Or it had initially. It would dwindle to nothing more than “you remember that case with that guy.”
“And Andrew?”
“He approached me at a different bar. He’d been watching me at my friend’s trial.” It wasn’t as if the officer wouldn’t have figured out my connection to Steven, Ethan, and the trial.
“Did he say anything odd, make you uncomfortable?”
“Yes, he kept going on about supernaturals and how he believed they existed.”
“Then later he suspected you were one?” He was having a difficult time hiding his emotions. Disgust and frustration peeked through several times.
I nodded. His frown deepened as if he couldn’t understand how someone could believe something as bizarre as that so wholeheartedly that they would resort to kidnapping and eventually murder.
That line of questioning continued for nearly half an hour. Based on the tight, withdrawn look on the cop’s face, he wasn’t any clearer about their motives or how they’d pulled me into it. He’d probably seen many strange things in his career but not someone going to such extremes to prove the existence of werewolves.
“There are people who look for the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot, and I can’t tell you how many people believe in sirens,” Ethan said at the completion of the interview. “People want to believe in the supernatural because what-ifs are oddly comforting. You might not understand it, but it doesn’t make that desire any less necessary for many people. For some, it’s just an unhealthy distraction.” The policeman seemed to find some relief in that. He nodded.
I kept my focus on anything but Ethan because it was hard not to show an overwhelming look of awe as he pretended that supernaturals didn’t exist when he was one of them.
Ethan held my arm and guided me out of the office. His hold was too tight for it to be remotely comfortable.
“You realize no one is going to try to snatch me in broad daylight just feet from the police station, right?” I pointed out as we headed to the car.
He made a sound and loosened his hold.
“Mr. Charleston,” a low-pitched, hesitant voice called from behind us.
Ethan was steel and ire when he turned, his lips fighting the snarl threatening to emerge. “Price.”
The DA didn’t look as refined as he had in court. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were red and droopy as if he hadn’t slept in days. His tie was askew, and he was tugging at it.
“I … I’d like for us to talk. I heard about what happened to your friend, and in light of everything, I think we can come to an agreement about the case.”
Ethan released my hand and moved closer to the weary attorney. “She’s not my friend, she’s my fiancée,” he growled. “You can’t even imagine how pissed off I am about what happened to her.” Ethan was just inches from him. Price looked uneasy and was having a difficult time holding his feral gaze. “What exactly do you want to talk about? How you are an active member of the organization that abducted her, held her in a cage, and put a fucking gun in her face?”
“I didn’t have an
ything to do with that,” he blurted.
“Yeah, you did. You may not have committed the act, but you are by no means innocent. The multiple motions to revoke Steven’s bail—why? Because in your head he turns into a wolf when the moon is full—the same thing that was thought of my fiancée and that I’ve been accused of, Mr. Price? What the hell shall we talk about? How I will make it my mission to let your affiliation with this organization be known? Or your staunch belief that there are animals running around wearing human shells? Or your association with the person who modified the video, released it, and has been verified to have altered it to implicate my client?”
He was being awfully indignant about something that was absolutely true. We were wearing human shells. It was a video of Steven, albeit altered to cut out a man changing to a wolf. He was really committing to his role in getting people to believe the reality in which he wanted them to and giving an Oscar-worthy performance.
Ethan continued, his voice still cold and incensed, full of restrained rage, “I don’t have time for you until you’re planning to drop your case. The man who gave you the video was murdered by one of your associates. This doesn’t bode well for you.”
Backing away from Price, he finished, “You think long and hard about what this conversation will entail and whether it will be worth me giving you the time because I am thoroughly prepared to go nuclear on this and ruin your reputation and career.”
Ethan turned, his hand on my back as he guided me toward the car.
Once we were inside, I asked, “Can we make a stop?”
“What do you need?”
“To get you a trophy for that performance.” He cut his gunmetal eyes in my direction. Easy, wolfie. I hadn’t considered how well he’d been holding things together after last night. Going into more detail about the events of the previous night and seeing Price were almost more than Ethan could handle without incident.
“I’m fine, Ethan.”
Taking several long breathes, he coaxed himself into a smile. It was rigid and barely curled the corners of his lips. His mood solemn. “Are you?” It was more than the abduction; it was what had happened after: the bloodlust. Something was changing.
“Be nice?” I cautioned Ethan several hours after we’d returned home from our meeting with the investigator. I straightened his tie as he got dressed to meet with Price again. I was surprised he wanted to meet with Ethan after their interaction outside the police station. But it seemed as if the DA was in a hurry to end everything and sever all ties with Dexter. I winced thinking about the newly departed pain in the ass mage. It wasn’t that he hadn’t deserved his ending—he had. I just wanted it to have been more climactic, for someone to have listed his misdeeds before taking his life. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I wanted it to have been far more violent. He’d deserved it.
“Nice?”
“Yes, it’s what the rest of us call common courtesy. You should try it sometime. Don’t tell him you want to ruin his career, go nuclear, expose him, or beat him to a bloody pulp.”
After a low growl, he muttered, “I didn’t tell him I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp.”
“Your eyes did,” I said pointedly. “As did your hostile posturing.”
“He was going to allow people to perjure themselves in court and use an altered video to convict Steven. Let’s not forget that, on some level, he knew what they were going to do to you. Asking me to be kind is a stretch.”
“Steven isn’t innocent.”
“Based on the evidence he is,” Ethan was quick to point out. And to Ethan that was all that mattered.
He headed for the door but stopped. “You’ll be here when I get back?”
“Of course. I don’t have a car.” Mine was in the shop getting new tires. “And I have research to do.” The key to his office was calling to me.
“Have fun.”
I might not have fun, but Ethan had a wealth of information that he didn’t like to share. He’d been the first person to introduce me to the history of the Faeries and accounts of their existence. It had been a rude awakening to what was actually inside me—inside us.
Coffee in hand, I headed for his office. I put the key in the door, but it wouldn’t turn. I tried the other two keys he’d given me despite knowing they were for the front door and the storage shed in the backyard that looked like a miniature version of the house.
“The key doesn’t work,” I fumed as soon as Ethan picked up the phone.
“Really? I can’t believe I gave you the wrong key. I’ll have to check.”
“You can’t possibly think I believe that,” I snapped back, unable to hide my irritation, which seemed to amuse him because I could hear a smile in his words as he spoke.
“Sky, I’m allowed to make mistakes. I guess you’ll have to wait until I return to snoop.”
I snatched the front door open when I heard a light knock, expecting it to be Ethan since he couldn’t have been that far away. At the speed he customarily drove, it was plausible for him to return at the house so fast. Instead, it was Josh, hair disheveled, black shirt with a Rubik’s Cube on it, frayed jeans, a backpack slung over his shoulder, and a mischievous grin on his lips.
“Do you want to help me with research?” he asked, stepping into his brother’s home without an invitation. I suspected he wasn’t used to waiting for one. He probably just let himself in when he visited.
“Is that my brother?” he mouthed.
I nodded.
He asked for the phone. His smile didn’t falter. “Ethan, I did as you told me. I came over here and asked her to help me research. It’s going as planned. I don’t think she suspects I’m here to guard her.”
Clenching my teeth together didn’t help with suppressing my laughter. Ethan growled and barked a few choice words, which only entertained Josh more. “I’m not sure why you’re getting angry with me—I did what you asked. Our ploy is working. She’s none the wiser about your covert plan to have your brother come over to do research, something he never does. She’ll never suspect you don’t want her to leave the house unescorted. You’re a stealthy … a very stealthy one,” Josh continued, and I could feel Ethan’s anger as if he were in the room.
I took the phone from Josh and ordered, “Stop it.” I felt like I was reprimanding a child, and when it came to Ethan and Josh and their sibling squabbles, I wasn’t far off.
“Ethan, I want the office door opened when you get home,” I asserted.
“Of course.” Which was Ethan-speak for putting any and every obstacle in place to prevent it. The walls of secrecy weren’t likely to come down without constant urging. It was who he was, and I had to work with it—or rather around it.
“He gave you the wrong key, too?” Josh asked, dropping the backpack near the coffee table and walking to the office with me close behind. He studied the door and frowned. “It’s warded, too, which is why I can’t open it, either. The last time I tried, I had weakened the ward enough to break it when Ethan came home.”
He touched the door, whispered a couple of words, and sparks of lavender and orange swirled across it. A halo of illumination and then a shrill sound came from the door before we were pushed back several feet. Josh gave an exhilarated smile. A challenge. He loved a challenge. His ocean blue eyes turned cloudy gray as he called on stronger magic. His lips moved rapidly. Magic pulsed off him and coils of color and power pushed into the door. The door groaned, and the ward wailed in protest as it struggled to stay in place.
Josh stopped, his mouth parted for a few seconds before a flash of magic shot out of him. He expelled more words quickly. He collapsed to the floor, still. His magic was squelched. Nothing. I checked his pulse; it was fine, but when I peeled back his eyelids, his eyes were looking straight ahead. Just as I grabbed my phone, Ethan called.
“Sky, what’s the matter?” I’d deal with the weirdness of him calling just in time later.
“Josh—he’s hurt. I need to call Dr. Jeremy. Meet us at the pack’s house.”
CHAPTER 15
Dr. Jeremy was exceedingly patient with us as we hovered around, watching him and Kelly examine Josh. Ethan was pushing his tolerance by positioning himself so close that Dr. Jeremy moved him back several times. Ethan gave him the space he needed only after Sebastian had threatened to force him out of the room. They were looking for the Tod Schlaf, or sleeper. That was the most logical explanation for Josh’s condition. Josh’s breathing was slow and steady, and so was his heart rate. Both were slower but within normal limits. Dr. Jeremy went over every inch of his tattoo-covered body, looking for that odd leech-type creature that had once infected Kelly with a venom that had paralyzed her.
After several minutes, it wasn’t Dr. Jeremy who found what was wrong—it was Ethan. When they finally rolled Josh onto his stomach, Ethan gasped at the mark on top of his thigh. Everyone thought it was a birthmark, but it was actually the mark of a spell that had been done to Josh to keep him alive. He’d been cursed to punish their mother for performing a rever tempore, a dangerous and forbidden spell that reversed time. It had been the catalyst for Ethan hosting a spirit shade. I’d read books and documents about the Faeries’ vicious and cruel treatment of others. Their power was second to none. Why would they have wanted someone who’d surpassed them in brutality to live on? What did he possess? More importantly, what did Ethan now possess that they’d wanted to preserve?
Ethan took several steps back as he looked at his brother’s mark, which was starting to fade. It was shades lighter than what I remembered. If it was removed, it would be the end of Josh. Ethan’s eyes glistened as his mouth moved slowly in an incantation. Magic roiled from him in an aggressive, fierce wave. It felt like Maya’s magic—dark, strong, ominous. Josh’s magic was a cool ocean breeze, gentle and calming; Ethan’s was the opposite. It was turbulent, stygian, the blasting wind of a hurricane, and it quickly overtook the room. Like everyone else, I gasped as though someone had punched me in the chest, forcing out any air I had. Taking the smallest breath was painful and difficult.
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