by C. C. Hunter
“That’s ridiculous. Kylie is as important to me as Holiday is to you. There is no competition between her and the Council. Down deep she knows that.”
“And yet how often have you allowed the Council to intrude on your time? Time that you’d have spent with Kylie.”
“I told you, it’s just a rough patch. It won’t always be like this.”
Burnett shrugged, not so much as if he agreed with Lucas, but as if to say, “Believe what you want.”
And Lucas would. Non weres just didn’t understand the Council.
Burnett settled back in his seat and went back to staring out the window. “Here he is!” The vampire popped his knuckles and slowly eased forward, his eyes never moving from the man parking a new Mustang.
“At least he has nice taste in cars,” Burnett muttered.
Lucas watched the perp walking to the house. He waited for Burnett to tell him the plan.
The misbehaving fae, looking a bit too confident, glided up the walkway. Burnett pressed a hand onto his thigh and looked at Lucas. “I can tell by looking at him that he’s going to run.”
“Then I’ll catch him.” Lucas’s mood was conducive to a hard run and maybe even a fight.
• • •
Lucas had gotten what he wanted. He’d chased the guy for two blocks just to draw it out. Not that it helped his mood. Now after practically no sleep, he moved in the predawn air. The sun threatened to rise, but the night’s darkness clung to trees. Insects played their morning chorus. A few owls called to the night as if trying to beat the sunrise.
He hadn’t gotten home until almost one in the morning. The time with the Council grew so tiring that both Kylie’s and Burnett’s belief that the calls were ploys almost seemed possible. Almost.
During a meeting break, deciding to be the bigger person, he’d texted Kylie. Want to talk to you before I go. Miss you.
She hadn’t texted back. Damn, that stung.
Somewhere around three in the morning, after tossing and turning, he made up his mind that he wasn’t leaving without seeing her. At four, he gave up trying to sleep and started there.
He got to the turn-off to her cabin. A skunk, followed by four baby skunks, pranced across the path. Their nose-to-butt positions and coordinated pace created a black and white chain. The mother glared at him and hissed. In unison, all the babies did the same.
“Not a lover of skunk meat,” he said and let the creatures pass.
He moved up to Kylie’s window as he did so often, and put his thumbs under the lip of the window to push it open. It didn’t move. Was it really locked?
She never locked her bedroom window. And to do so could only mean one thing. She didn’t want him entering. Didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to say goodbye.
Since when had she become so irrational? Angry, he shot around the cabin to the front door. Grabbing the knob, he found it was locked, too.
Not wanting to believe it, he gave it another try. Still locked. His fury faded, and concern took up residence in chest. Was she that mad? Sure, this time away from her was inconvenient, but it wasn’t so bad that it would affect what they had. They were life mates, and they were in this for forever.
Right?
When the thread of doubt wrapped around his heart and started choking the life out of what he believed to be true, he became even more determined to see her.
He could not, would not leave until he spoke with her.
He looked to the right and saw Miranda’s window was opened an inch.
As far as he was concerned, that was an invitation.
When he lifted it, he heard her bedroom door whoosh open. Had some heard him? He pulled himself up. Miranda sat up in her bed, sleepy-eyed and not overly concerned and just a bit guilty. Had she left the window open on purpose?
Della, however, looked slightly more than disturbed.
The vampire with sensitive hearing stood in the doorway in her signature pissed-off pose. Leaning more weight on her right leg, she had one hand placed high on her hip. Her chin, angled up a quarter of inch higher than normal, sent a don’t-mess-with-me message. Even worse were her eyes, a potentially dangerous lime-green color, typical for vampires in attack mode.
“You’ve got balls,” Della said.
“Yup. Two of them,” he grumbled and walked right past her, only slightly worried the vamp would turn on him.
She didn’t. “Good thing I kind of like you,” she hissed to his back.
He walked up to Kylie’s door, praying it wasn’t locked. But if it was, he was knocking.
It wasn’t. He pushed it open and walked in.
She rested on her side, and her soft breaths came and went in even intervals. Her hair, long and blond, lay scattered on the pillow. When she slept she looked younger, and his mind took him back eleven years to when he’d lived beside her for a brief time. He’d climbed into her window back then too. She hadn’t known it then, but he’d loved watching her sleep. Loved trying to figure out just what kind of supernatural she was. Wondering why he even cared. Until then, until her, he hadn’t liked girls, but he sure as heck liked her.
She shifted slightly. Her eyes remained closed, lost to slumber. Just seeing her, he became lost as well. Lost in everything he felt for her, lost in fear of losing that everything. How the hell had things gone so bonkers, so fast?
How could she sleep when this thing between them kept him awake? Taking another step, he paused just to study her again. He’d never met anyone more precious, more touchable, more honorable.
Or smarter.
Too smart to believe . . . Or was he the fool?
Could she be right? Could the Council be doing this to just rip them apart? His doubts tap-danced on his conscience. Pushing that thought aside to be analyzed during his commune with nature, he moved in. The only real truth that mattered was Kylie and him.
He lowered himself onto her bed, keeping his moves stealthy—something weres did naturally. She stirred. He studied her pattern. She was chameleon now. She’d told him that she preferred to sleep in chameleon mode.
Her ability to turn into any supernatural was amazing, but she never abandoned her true self. She was as proud of her chameleon heritage as he was of his werewolf culture.
He leaned down and pressed his hand against her cheek. “Hey.”
Instead of rousing slowly as he’d imagined, she shot up, a gasp leaving her throat. Her baby blues blinked at him, then she glanced at the window.
“I used Miranda’s,” he confessed and frowned that Kylie had felt the need to lock him out. “I know you’re mad, but . . . you can’t be that mad. You can’t refuse to see me. We’re meant to be together, you know that.”
“I don’t think your council would agree.” The words came out raw, and hearing them added a heavy weight to his heart.
Were things that bad? “I don’t care what they agree with,” he said. “I love you. And when this vision quest is over there are going to be some changes. I promise you.”
Her eyes brightened, from hope or hurt he didn’t know. His chest cavity shrunk. His sore heart throbbed, bumped against his sharp ribs, slammed against his conscience, and tried to mess with his life plan. The weight in his chest tripled.
No. No. No. He refused to accept that. They were life mates. They would be together. Nothing was going to change that.
“I promise things are going to get better.” He went to touch her again, and she flinched.
“You promised me we would go hiking all day last Sunday. You promised me that we’d be together for the holidays. Why should I believe this promise? Answer me, Lucas. Because I can’t answer it, and it’s killing me.”
Chapter Five
“Because . . .” Shit!
Until right then, that moment, Lucas hadn’t let himself see how much he’d hurt her. He’d been a fool—a fool to let the Council steal away his time from Kylie. A fool to take her love and patience for granted. Not that he really thought the Council was trying
to break them up, but in his quest to make peace for his people, he had neglected the most important person in his life.
He looked at her, hugging her knees on her bed, the bed he so often slept in with her, the bed where they’d made love. She looked so soft, so innocent, so hurt.
“Kylie, all you have to do is tell me you don’t want me to go and I’ll stay.”
Surprise widened her eyes. She sat up a little straighter. “You would?”
“Yes. If that’s what it takes to make you happy. And I’m sorry I’ve let this go on so long. I’ve been blindsided by trying to fix things with the were community.” He leaned in to press a kiss on her cheek.
She turned her cheek. Okay, that hurt.
“And what about what you want? What makes you happy?”
“You are my happiness.”
She blinked. “No. You want to fix things. It’s your life quest. If I take that away, you’ll resent me for it.”
“I’d rather resent you than lose you.”
Her eyes widened and grew instantly wet with emotion. She scooted away from him, just an inch, but that tiny space seemed to mean something, and it wasn’t good.
Had he said the wrong thing? “I didn’t mean . . . I just meant—”
“Stop. I know exactly what you mean. The last thing I want is for you to resent me. Resentment doesn’t belong in a relationship. You have to go.”
He searched for the right thing to say. Not that he was overly confident. He obviously sucked at arguing. Since they seldom argued he hadn’t realized how bad he was at it until now.
His mind spun, wanting to make this terrible feeling go away. “Fine, I’ll go, but tell me that you aren’t going to get angry. And when I get back I promise to change things. I swear I’ll make this right.”
When he saw doubt in her eyes, and anger, he threw out more words to fix it. “The Council has given me their word that when I return they will listen to my points. Things will settle down.” He would damn well make sure of it, too.
She didn’t say anything. She breathed in. Breathed out. She shook her head. “They won’t stop until they break us up.”
His stomach clenched. “I know you believe that. I even see why you would have come to this conclusion, but . . . the Council doesn’t work that way. They give orders and expect you to follow. They lead with an iron fist, not trickery.”
Her face tightened, her eyes, her mouth. He could swear her heart did the same. Tightened as if to close him out. Again, he’d chosen the wrong thing to say.
“Then believe what you want.” She jumped out of bed and moved to the window. She gazed out, just so she didn’t have to look at him. Her posture came across so angry, he felt lost, helpless.
Should he just keep his mouth shut?
She turned. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Anger and hurt slipped into his heart. “Kylie, I just—”
“No, go Lucas.” She pointed to the window. “And when you get back, we’ll decide if I really fit into your life plans.”
He held his hands in the air, unsure how he could fix this. “Don’t say that. We’re life mates. Nothing is going to come between us.”
She inhaled a shuttered breath. He felt each little catch. Every little hiccup of sound chipped away at his dreams, his life plans. His sanity.
“I won’t let them come between us.”
“They already have. Go.”
He felt slapped, cornered, baffled. How could she say that? How could . . . “I said I wouldn’t go if you asked it. So ask it.”
“And to ask it would destroy your life quest. I refuse to do that. So just go.”
He reached up, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.”
“You are being unreasonable,” he said, his frustration spilling out of him.
“Maybe I’m unreasonable. But I’ve put up with this for . . . too long. I know I have some fault for not speaking up earlier. But you, Lucas Parker, are blind. And until you see this for what it is, I don’t think we can get past it.”
“What this is, is a mistake on my part. I get tunnel vision sometimes. I’m apologizing. I won’t let it happen again.”
“How? How can you stop that you don’t think exits?”
He stood there trying to find the right thing to say, but not even sure there was a right thing. “Kylie, this is crazy. Every time I open my mouth, I’m making it worse.”
“It’s not what you’re saying, it’s what you refuse to believe.”
His frustration shot up along with his blood pressure. “You want me to lie to you and say I believe something that I don’t? Fine, I’ll lie. They are trying to break us up. Does that make you happy?”
He heard the frustration in his voice and regretted it the moment the words left his lips. Regretted it more when he saw that his words caused the person he loved even more pain.
Her chin shot up just a notch, a sure sign of her anger. And Kylie Galen didn’t do anger. Not often anyway. But shit! He’d come here to fix things, not to make them worse.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to . . .”
She pointed to the window again. “Go. Please.”
“Not until . . .” He caught her and pulled her close. “You are my everything. You are more important to me than being on that Council.”
The sigh that whispered off her lips told him she still cared. He kissed her then. She didn’t resist. She even kissed him back. But he could taste her salty tears on her lips. Feel her hurt and lingering anger in how she held herself. How she didn’t lean against him completely. How she ended the kiss a second too soon.
He pulled back. “I love you. I give you my word that when I get back it won’t be like this anymore.”
She didn’t say anything, but she nodded. He knew he wasn’t out of hot water. He’d have to prove to her that she meant more to him than anything. Not a hard task, because nothing was truer.
“I’m not going to have my phone, but you could dreamscape and we could communicate.”
She blinked. Her lashes still webbed with tears. “The last time I tried to do it, I . . . couldn’t make it happen.”
“Try again. I’m going to miss you.” He hesitated again. “Do you not want me to go?”
“You have to go,” she said, but the hurt in her words ricocheted and got him right in his heart.
• • •
Friday night, after two days of suffering from Lucas withdrawals, Kylie hid away in her bedroom, trying once again to dreamscape and attempting to push away the anger she felt.
She failed at both things.
Yup, she was still totally, completely, over-the-moon pissed at the guy who she loved with all her heart.
This afternoon, she’d even gone to Holiday asking for help on the dreamscaping. Holiday offered her two reasons why it might not be working. One was the anger she nursed deep in her heart toward the person with whom she attempted to connect, the other was her recent shifts into a paranormal that wasn’t gifted with that talent.
Not fair, she wanted to rant to whoever set these stupid rules and hadn’t given her a handbook. She punched her pillow and groaned words her mother would wash her mouth out with soap if she heard them.
The loud knock on Kylie’s bedroom door had her bolting off the bed. She yanked the door open to find her two roommates.
“What?” Kylie asked, her frustration ringing so loud in her one-word question, she cringed. Just because she felt like crap didn’t give her the right to toss handfuls at anyone who crossed her path.
“Wow! The princess didn’t want to be disturbed,” Della mouthed off. She looked at Miranda standing next to her.
“Sorry,” Kylie muttered to her closest friends. But holy shit, she didn’t like this place she was in. A place where she couldn’t get past the anger. Where everything and everyone irritated her and turned her into a “b with an itch” on roller blades.
“You should
be,” Della said, never one to let anyone off the hook.
To her credit, she was just as hard on herself.
“Stop!” Miranda gave Della a pointed elbow-jab in the ribs. “Kylie’s going through a hard time. We have to give her some pissy-tude wiggle room.”
“Pissy-tude wiggle room?” Della asked. “All I said was—”
“I know what you said,” Miranda snapped. “I was here. But watch and learn . . . vamp. This is how good friends are supposed to behave in hard times.” Miranda turned to Kylie. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. Come here.” The witch moved in and wrapped Kylie in a warm embrace.
Kylie let the witch hug her. A caring, I-gotcha kind of hug. It felt good. She just wished the arms holding her were Lucas’s. Or not, her anger sparked, again. The high-low sparks of anger were making her dizzy.
At least she wasn’t alone. Kylie and Della were . . . her best friends—the glue that kept Kylie sane. And right now she needed a lot of glue.
Miranda gave her another tight squeeze then let go.
“Better?” she asked Kylie.
“Yeah, thanks.” And she meant it.
“Huggers!” Della smirked which caused Miranda to swing around and embrace her.
“Oh, gawd!” Della muttered mid hug, but didn’t resist.
Kylie could even tell the tough-on-the-outside but tender-on-the-inside vampire enjoyed it. Not that Kylie would dare tell Della. The girl would have a shit fit.
Della finally pulled back. “Can we move past the mushy stuff? I’ve got a game and Diet Cokes waiting.” She waved to the kitchen table. “It’s time we laugh.” She cut her gaze back to Miranda. “Which, by the way, is better than hugging.”
Five minutes later, they were in the small green kitchen. The fridge hummed in the corner, a few dirty dishes littered the brown-and-cream fake granite, which could use a good scrubbing. But it had been Kylie’s day to clean house. And she’d been too busy sulking.
The three of them had found their spots sitting around the table, sipping fizzy, problem-solving soda and watching Della shuffle a small deck of cards. In truth, it wasn’t really the soda that brought on peace, but the company. Yet since the drink always accompanied these round table meet-ups, the sizzle of carbonation set the stage for the on-coming healing laughter.
