Bound by Her Destiny

by Mara Leigh

  He shifts beneath me. “They want to arrest me.”

  “No they don’t.”

  “Yeah, they do. I was the commander of Xavier’s Guard.”

  “They just want your help. They want to find Xavier, bring him to justice.”

  “I want him dead.”

  “So do I.” I swallow so hard it hurts. “FJS will lock him up when they find him.”

  “Jail is too good for him.”

  I agree but don’t reply. But now I’m wondering if there’s another reason Pike won’t meet with Astrid or help FJS get inside. “Promise me you won’t go after Xavier by yourself.”

  He grunts, and I decide that’s as close to a promise as I’m likely to get out of him tonight.

  “I’m worried about Gray,” I say.

  “He’s been so good to me,” Pike says like he’s ashamed. “Saved my fucking life. Gave me a place to stay. Trusted me to be around you. But I ditched him the second the pigs showed up.”

  “Pigs?”

  He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “That’s what we used to call police back in the day.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I take a few long breaths enjoying how I can feel his body against my back, how he responds in tiny ways to the touch of my fingers on his neck and his face and his hair. Hair that’s much softer than I ever expected, almost silky as it falls to his chin.

  “How did you guys find me in the ravine tonight?”

  “You’re not going to like the answer,” he says.

  “Tell me, anyway. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened if you hadn’t come.” And it’s true. Tonight was bad, but it could have been so much worse. If Zora had gotten her fangs into me, literally or figuratively…

  “I heard you call to Gray when you left the house,” he says softly. “I tuned into your voice. Followed you that way.”

  I suck in a sharp breath. “Can all vampires do that?”

  “No. I can focus in on and follow sound better than most.” He draws a long breath. “And it’s not the first time I’ve followed your voice.”

  I sit for a moment, absorbing that information. The idea of Pike following me, listening in to my conversations… But at the same time, it reinforces my belief that he means me no harm. That if he ever wanted to take me back to Xavier or keep me as his own prisoner, he’s had many opportunities.

  He says so little, but his character, the true man inside him is starting to reveal himself. Strong but vulnerable, in so much pain. Pushing others away to protect his heart.

  “What were you like?” I ask softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Before, before everything. Before the war.” I remember what I learned about the sixties in school, hippies and protests, The Beatles. I’m trying to place Pike in that world.

  He sighs, all of his breath escaping at once and carrying so much torment with it.

  Have I scratched at a wound he’d rather leave covered? What is with me tonight? Poking at everything, making things worse, causing pain.

  “I had a good life,” he says softly. “Great parents. Nice childhood. Loyal friends.”

  I try not to respond. I was expecting something completely different. A childhood horror story. A childhood like my own.

  “Got drafted after college. Was a young man at the wrong time in the wrong country.” He takes a huge breath that moves my body forward with it. “My friend Mike dodged the draft. Came up here to Canada. Montréal. Begged me to go with him.” Air whistles out of his lips. “But I was worried about not speaking French. And not seeing my parents for a long time, if ever again. So fucking stupid. If I’d known…”

  “Yeah. But we can’t change the past. I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t followed Zora out of the gallery and into the alley that night.” Or if my mother hadn’t married that monster. Or if I’d ever known my real dad. Some day I’ll tell Pike about my past.

  I drop my hand from his face to rest on his thigh, and the muscles twitch under my fingers, but instead of moving his leg away, he bends the other and slides both closer, until the tops of his thighs rest against me, cradling me gently. His hands are still on the floor behind him, but this feels like an embrace.

  If either of our lives had been different, we wouldn’t be where we are now. And while I’m not entirely sure how to define what’s going on between me and Pike at the moment, I know it’s what I need.

  Curling to the side against his chest, I close my eyes.

  Selina

  Rock has left the house when I wake, and so I go to FJS the second the sun goes down, but Astrid keeps me waiting for ages, and the area I’m waiting in is buzzing with vampires and energy, even though it’s now past business hours for any other company downtown.

  Sitting on the edge of a bright red leather sofa, I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the lights of the city. These windows must be treated like Gray’s, or maybe the vampire employees only work at night?

  I have so many questions about this place, Fides Jures Sactorum, it says above the front desk. The words are Latin, I think? But their meaning is beyond me.

  My leg bounces with impatience as I wait. I’m terrified that more of Colton’s memory has returned, and I need to talk to him to be sure. If it has returned, I’m in danger, but I’m willing to risk a stake to my heart for the chance to see him again.

  “Selina.” Astrid’s voice comes from behind me, and I jump to my feet, lifting off the ground a few inches by accident.

  “Sorry.” She touches my upper arm. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  In her dark grey business suit, Astrid’s more intimidating than usual, not like the vampire I’ve bonded with over these past weeks. Maybe it’s just the setting.

  “Where is Gray? Is he okay? Can I see him?”

  “Yes, of course.” She starts walking. “After we talk.”

  She touches a small pad beside a frosted-glass door, which then swings open for us to go through. “Have you heard from Colton since last night?” she asks me.

  “No. But like I told you on the phone, he doesn’t remember anything after the other police left the ravine. He drove me home and everything was normal.” But was it? I ask myself.

  She guides me into a small room, with six office-style chairs around a stone topped table, and pulls out a chair for me to sit.

  There’s a large window behind me, framing a city view, and a huge mirror ahead. “Is this an interrogation room?”

  “Yes.” She leans on the back of one of the chairs opposite me, and for the first time I truly see the head of security for FJS, versus Rock’s friend, my friend.

  Her red hair is up in a bun, and the power that radiates from her strong, voluptuous body fills the space between us. If she’s trying to intimidate me, it’s working.

  I press my hands together to keep them from shaking.

  “What exactly did the cop remember?” Astrid asks. “Tell me everything.”

  “He doesn’t remember much.” I try my best to smile. “He remembered that Gray killed Zora, and remembers getting to the ravine and talking to me, but nothing after that.”

  “How did you explain his memory loss?”

  “I told him we were attacked, that he was robbed by some kids who took the goggles.”

  She nods. “Okay. Good thinking. Our R&D team is already looking at those.”

  “Can I see Gray now?”

  “Soon.” Astrid pulls out the chair she’s been leaning on and sits. “I’d like to interview Colton myself. Get a better idea of whether he’s lying to you.”

  I lean back. “Lying?” I shake my head. “Colton doesn’t lie. He’s the most honest, transparent person I’ve ever met.”

  Astrid nods, but her eyes narrow. “Still…we have to be certain.”

  “He hates vampires,” I tell her. “Detests them. If he remembered what happened I’d have been dead last night.”

  Chapter 6

  Colton

  The neon-gr
een light from the O’Malley’s sign reflects off the pavement, damp after a late afternoon thunderstorm that raged through the city like it wanted revenge. Standing in the vestibule in front of a building across from the bar, I unscrew a light bulb when it comes on at dusk to better hide myself from view.

  After the horrific events in the ravine, I didn’t sleep a wink last night or today, and I need the wall behind me for support. After a quick stop at the station, I left again, telling them I felt ill and that much is true.

  That head injury knocked me out—for how long I don’t know—and my memory of the entire evening is patchy. But I remember enough.

  At least I remember the single most important detail: Selina’s friend Grayson is a vampire.

  Does she know? Possibilities have been running through my mind along with explanations for my missing chunks of memory.

  I remember reaching for my weapon and firing. But after that everything is a jumbled mess, more nightmare than memory.

  In one version of my nightmare, I shot Selina. I killed her. But of the many questions I have about what happened during my memory lapse, I know that didn’t happen because when I regained consciousness I was cradled in her lap. She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t even shot. But ruling out that one horrific possibility from my mind didn’t help clear my confusion.

  And no matter how many times I think it through, it’s hard for me to believe Selina doesn’t know that Gray is a monster.

  I try to think through everything logically, like I’ve been trained to in my work, but the after effects of the head injury, the shock, and last night’s insomnia are all conspiring against my abilities, and more questions have invaded than answers.

  Selina’s story about the young men jumping us, stealing my backpack and goggles. It’s what I reported to my boss, but is it true? If it is, it must have been after the VTF took the dead female vampire’s body away, which agrees with what Selina told me, but I wish I could remember it all.

  Like what happened to Grayson? There’s no way he left with the cops like she claimed. For some reason I haven’t told Sanjay or the others what I know about him. I need to understand Selina’s part in it first.

  Assuming she knows what her friend is, why does she spend time with him? Sleep with him? There’s no way she knows the truth.

  I shudder as another earthquake of emotion hits. Unless my trauma scrambled memories from a week ago, Selina admitted to me that she’s had sex with that monster. Is it possible to have sex with a vampire without knowing what it is? His skin must be so cold. Being dead, undead, every part of him must be cold.

  I cringe, thinking of him touching her, never mind being inside her. At least I know that Selina is human, nothing about her is cold.

  Has he mesmerized her? Is she under some kind of spell?

  I gasp at another thought. Is Selina the woman who called the anonymous hot line that brought me to this bar in the first place? But if that’s true, why would she keep seeing him?

  She could be his blood slave, trapped by his fiendish manipulations and schemes. If so, I need to save her.

  Coming here early afternoon, I was driven by the fear that everyone at O’Malley’s was a vampire. If Grayson escaped my notice, why not everyone else?

  But the owner, the waitress and the bartender all arrived before the sun was down. They’re humans, but do they know what Grayson is? Are they under his evil spell too?

  I need to talk to Selina, but I’ll have to tread carefully. I’m not sure whether I should warn her or accuse her. I’m not even sure how to start. All I know for sure is that I can’t switch off my feelings.

  Even if the worst is true and she’s willingly in a relationship with a vampire, I’ll still have feelings for her, feelings that are so strong they must be love. I need to help her understand why letting a vampire use her like that is so dangerous.

  Whether or not she knows the truth, she definitely needs my protection.

  Even considering her liberal views about vampires, it’s hard to believe that she’d be with one, or that she’d keep it from me. What she believes about vampires goes against everything I know—what everyone knows about vampires.

  And yet, what I’ve seen of Grayson contradicts what I know about vampires too.

  The most baffling thing is: the bloodsucker seems to have genuine, almost human feelings for her. At least he’s fooled me in that regard. The way he looks at her with adoration—and yes, sometimes lust—the gentle way he touches her and lays his hand on her back when he escorts her.

  It’s true that Gray has been ungentlemanly at times, using crude and sexual language around Selina, kissing her inappropriately in public, touching her under the table when he thinks I’m not looking, but I’ve always assumed that was more about marking his territory to make me uncomfortable, rather than anything as nefarious as what’s turned out to be the truth.

  The only thing that makes sense is that she doesn’t know what he is, and that my Selina is enslaved by that monster, that he’s forcing her to give him her blood, to have sexual relations with him.

  I turn into the corner of the vestibule, bend and retch. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink for hours, so nothing comes up, but it doesn’t stop the contractions of my stomach.

  Now I know what that Grayson creature is, he has to die. I just hope that I can free Selina from his hold first.

  I haven’t seen Selina or Gray arrive, but perhaps they were already inside when I came, or maybe they went in through the back.

  I push off the wall, then draw the deepest breath possible given the huge weight bearing down on me. I need to get myself together. Go inside. Gather whatever information I can.

  And if necessary, put a stake through Gray’s heart.

  Chapter 7

  Rock

  Chelle has been talking to Colton for far too long. My long time waitress flirts with a lot of customers—hey, she flirts with me—but there’s something conspiratorial about the way she’s been leaning over his table, and the intensity of the way he’s been listening.

  And even if their conversation is just about her obvious attraction to the man, that doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it’s just as bad. Selina is falling in love with Colton. That’s clear to me, even if it isn’t yet fully clear to her, and I’m shocked at how watching another woman go after him makes me feel.

  I love Selina, love her so deeply that anything that hurts her hurts me too. I know it’s common for vampires to love more than one Mate, but I never thought in a million years that I would end up in a relationship where I’d be okay with the woman I love loving others.

  And yet, not only am I okay with it, my gut hurts thinking of Selina being hurt by Colton. There are obvious, huge obstacles to their love, and yet as I watch Chelle smile at the clean-cut, athletic cop, I realize I already assumed that this human would one day join our slowly-forming family as one of Selina’s Mates.

  Selina wasn’t around when I got up today, and if I’m honest, maybe I didn’t try very hard to find her before I left for work. She must have been in the house, somewhere. Maybe the basement. But the conversation we need to have, after I smashed the bed, requires more than the few minutes I had available this afternoon.

  I know she planned to go into FJS at sundown, but I didn’t expect her to be there so long. It’s nearly time to close the bar.

  I hope she comes in here soon. I need to see her, want to talk to her so badly. I overreacted last night. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on her. The reason she did what she did, the reason she doesn’t understand why I can’t make love to her is because I haven’t told her—and that’s on me.

  Colton looks at his phone, says something to Chelle, then pushes back his chair and stands. Chelle walks him to the door and leans in, like she’s hoping for a hug, or a kiss, but Colton extends his hand to shake.

  “Thanks for the info,” Colton says. “I appreciate your honesty.” He glances around as if to see if anyone overheard, and I quickly d
ivert my attention to the pint glasses I just took out of the dishwasher, studying one like I care about the most minuscule water mark.

  The second Colton’s out the door, I capture Chelle’s attention. “What was that about?”

  Shaking her head, she looks down, clearly feeling guilty about something.

  There are only two customers left in the bar, a gay couple snuggling in one of the booths, and I already served them their last-call beers.

  I pour a glass of Chelle’s favorite IPA, a few fingers of Jameson’s for myself, and I round the bar. She’s still frozen near the door, and I sit on one of the heavy oak stools and pat on the seat of another.

  She pulls herself onto the stool, and tucks her clasped hands between her legs. Not a normal Chelle posture. She looks like a dog hiding her tail, waiting to be scolded.

  “What’s going on?” I ask her.

  She draws a long slow breath. “I owe you an apology. A big one.”

  Now I’m really worried and try to slow the pumping of my hearts.

  “Do you remember why the cops first got interested in your bar?” she asks.

  “Sure. They claimed they got a tip.”

  She nods, sucking in her cheeks as if she’ll find moisture there. “I was the one who called in the tip.”

  “What? Why would you do that? You know this is a sanctuary.” Rage threatens to explode inside me, but I keep it contained. Chelle has worked for me for fifteen years. She deserves a chance to explain before I fire her.

  “That night you first came in with Selina.” Her teeth worry her lower lip. “It was so fucking obvious how you felt about her. I’d never seen you like that, Rock, and…shit.” She rests her elbow on the bar and tips her head into her palm. “I was jealous.”

  “And so you wanted her dead?” I shake my head, trying to find enough empathy to keep from hating my friend and long-time employee.