by Nancy Gideon
Sitting in her rental, staring down over the cold, deep waters of Lake Tahoe, Mia gripped the wheel until her hands, then her arms and shoulders, shook as she drew upon the loss, the pain and determination to take back what belonged to her.
A vision arose, one as cold and clear as those blue waters. Not of her standing atop the bodies of this enemy clan. But of their bones scattering in the wind until nothing remained of their legacy.
To defeat them, she needed to divide them, to weaken that tentative loyalty their new king inspired. Without Bram the Beast to hold them together on short, choking leases of rage and fear, they could be taken apart, prince by prince, until nothing remained of their stronghold and, eventually, of their name.
Divide and conquer. Starting with the wedge she’d already driven between their new king’s most powerful supporters.
Her two lovers.
“One of you in this room is betraying us all.”
Colin stared at the remnants of the meal he couldn't remember eating, his stomach rolling, his conscience churning.
Does Cale mean me?
Had his king yanked the covers off his traitorous lust for Mia Guedry that continued even after learning her identity? Had Cale discovered that while he was supposed to be in New Orleans working toward a truce, he was so lost to his desire for an enemy to their clan that he was willing to overlook the fact that their brother had brought her to their mountain, within striking distance of all he'd sworn to protect?
He needed to go to Cale, as Turow had done, to confess his sins and clear his way to redemption. And then he'd go to Rico and beat some sense into him, too.
His dreams were back since he’d found out that Mia was a Guedry. Dreams of his step-father and brothers, trapped inside their car. The sounds of them dying horribly above the crackling of flames. The smell of roasting flesh, curling paint, and gasoline. His own screams, as raw and tortured as theirs, waking him night after night, leaving a residue of horror as traumatic as that first night he'd spent in his dorm room stripped of the family he’d loved.
But waking up sick and sweating and alone hadn't kept him from wishing Mia was beside him.
He rubbed absently at his palm, following the circular scar.
The sight of Turow loading a lunch tray on the other side of their dorm's cafeteria distracted Colin from thoughts of dying a well-deserved death alongside those who hadn't.
Turow and Sylvia! He smiled at the unlikely pairing. He'd known Turow had puppy dogged after their smoking-hot cousin since they were kids. Colin himself had had kind of a thing for her at one time. Who would have thought, his pious brother with his slavish loyalty to their king and rocking-bod Sylvia whose allegiance ran to her own betterment, to the point of running off with their traitorous brother James and her spook-show mother? Row had been sent to bring her back to face judgment after a botched attempt at a coup. And now they were mated, apparently with Cale's blessing! How did that happen?
And would it make what he was considering on the sly more acceptable to their clan?
Colin kicked out a chair and hailed him over.
Turow and Sylvia. If anyone could knock a devout man off a righteous course, she was the one.
“You are full of surprises,” Colin exclaimed as Turow sat down. “She worth it?”
“Yes.”
“Hope it works for you. Really, I do.” Then it just slipped out, what he’d been musing over these past crazy weeks. “Blazes the trail for others who might be thinking outside the traditional box.”
Turow stared at him with that eerie see-right-to-the-soul look of his until Colin squirmed. Instead of pouncing on his statement with questions, Turow told him simply, “When it’s right, you’ll know it. Who they are and what others think doesn’t matter a damn.”
Problem was, Colin did know. Had known it from that first wild night. What he didn’t have was his brother’s courage. He smiled wryly. “Can’t see the family making it easy for you, though.”
“Like I said, doesn’t matter. She matters. To me, she always has.”
To block the images of a naked Sylvia from mind, Colin seized upon another topic whispered about by his brothers. “Jamie was gonna kill you? That sonuvabitch! He used up the last of his favors with Cale, and now he’s out of them with me.”
“What does that mean?”
Something in Row’s tone recalled Cale’s earlier accusation. Traitor. It, too, felt as pointed as a finger poking his chest. James’s act of treason had them all edgy and wary of one another again, and that was a step back to Bram’s reign Colin didn’t want to take. It made his tone testy. “Figure of speech. Dammit, we don’t turn on our own. Not for any reason.”
Was Mia Guedry reason enough?
Strange feelings chafed as uncomfortably as ill-fitting underwear. He knew, but wasn’t ready to accept what caused them.
Everything he saw, everything he did, every conversation he’d had since he’d come home felt like the last. Was he saying good-bye? That notion scared and excited. He’d been carefully cloistered here in this mountain hideaway, force-fed clan rhetoric, pushed into close proximity with brothers who had no reason to accept or befriend him. Always wary, always cautious, the only thing he feared more than those around him was the unknowns of the world beyond their forest. He’d never interacted with anyone but family except for a few dalliances with humans in town and casual brushes with them while visiting his holdings in Reno and Vegas. His closest encounter to shifters other than his clan were the MacCreedy’s. Their differences had intrigued and alarmed him when he was younger. He’d been taught different was dangerous and not to be trusted, a lesson burned into his psyche on his step-father and brothers’ pyre.
The sudden influx of new experiences in New Orleans at first reinforced and then abraded the engrained notion that Terriots needed to be separate to be strong. A foreign city filled with threatening outsiders instead of this place that no longer felt like home . . . hell, had never felt like home, beckoned as seductively as a certain dark-haired beauty, coaxing him to step away from what he knew toward things he longed to experience.
These things preyed upon him as he entered their clan’s main lodge.
“Hey, Brother, looking for me?”
The intrusion of Cale’s voice derailed his seditious train of thoughts. He’d started to force a smile when his brother hauled him down into a fierce embrace. Few in his life had ever touched him unless as a prelude to fighting or sex, until Cale decided to unite their brotherhood. The impulsive acts of camaraderie had shocked at first, leaving him paralyzed and resistant. Today, he closed his eyes and leaned into that hug, grateful for the sense of stability. And clung until Cale shoved at him and laughed.
“Hang on any tighter, I’m gonna suggest we get a room.”
Colin stepped back with an irreverent grin. “And I was just beginning to think this was the start of something special.”
“Good to have you home, Col.”
His tone tightened slightly. “Thank you, my king.”
Cale smacked his arm. “Let’s talk.”
He followed his brother’s strutty stride across the hall to the office Cale had inherited from their father. Being called into that room as children had induced a near pant-soiling terror in him and his half-siblings. Cale had stripped away those old ghosts, along with the depressing paneling, to make the space inviting. Colin dropped onto one of the couches and began bluntly.
“How are you?”
Taken momentarily aback by his abruptness, Cale settled onto the adjacent sofa. “Good. I’m good. Things here are good. Enough about that. How are you getting along with Silas?”
“Aside from wanting to replace that stick up his rear with my foot? Okay. We’re not dating or anything, but we’re almost at the hand holding stage.”
Cale grinned at his predictably wry response. “He can be a pain, but he’s straight shooter. You can trust him.”
“I’d just as soon hang on to my virtue a little longer, if
that’s all right with you.”
Another chuckle. “Play it how you want, Col. And Guedry’s rep?” He broached that easily, but Cale was no fool. Colin had made a drunken and, in retrospect, embarrassing confession to his king about his attraction to the treacherous Mia once he’d discovered she was playing both him and Rico to spy on them. Not his finest moment. Cale looked past it then. Would he now?
Tell him!
“She’s tough and snotty, and I don’t trust her,” he heard himself saying. All true enough but not nearly enough.
“Guedrys are slippery. The only interest they have is self-interest. You be careful.”
And there was a pause, a chance for him to blurt out his indiscretions. But he didn’t take it. A conscious decision this time for which he’d no excuse.
“How’s New Orleans? I know it’s not home, but are you settling in all right?”
“Fine.” Better than fine. Better than Tahoe. Could Cale guess that from a single word?
“’Cause there’s another option, if you want it.”
He sat up straighter. “What option?”
“Wes has been overseeing it, but I think we need someone in charge full time. I know you asked our father if you could take over your step-dad’s role in our clan’s defense. If you still want to, it’s yours. You’ve more than earned it.”
Colin didn’t move.
“You deserve it.”
Deserve it? Emotions came swimming up into his eyes until he feared to blink. They clutched his throat, squeezing hard.
“If you want to talk to your mom about it first, go ahead.”
Until recently, all of his brothers except Kip had fiercely kept their personal lives private. Rumors that filleted the confidence weren’t the same as soul-rending truths. They all had their family secrets, and held to them as tightly as they could. Only Rico knew of Colin’s situation at home. The others took what they’d been told about his move out at face value, as a Terriot prince coming into his own. He was in no hurry to enlighten them.
“No need.” The words whispered from him, allowing him to draw air and say more strongly, “I’ll stick with things in New Orleans. Wes will do a good a job. Maybe even Rico.”
“Rico?”
Yes. Here in Tahoe, far away from him and Mia.
Cale gave a puzzled look. “You think our future would be safe in Rico’s hands? I can count on him in a brawl, but not to pick up the mail.”
“Maybe he just needs a chance.”
“I don’t think I can give it to him, Col. He’d have to show me a lot more than he’s done so far. He’s a hothead. He likes starting fires, not putting them out.”
“Wes, then. Or Row. He’s settling down. You couldn’t find a cooler head. And I hear he beat the stuff outta Stevie.”
Cale studied him closely, confused by his odd arguments. “If you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” he said too quickly. He took a forceful breath and repeated, “I won’t.”
“Okay.”
He knew Cale was curious and unconvinced. Before he could ask more questions, Colin stood with a rushed, “Anything else? I gotta make some plans for tonight.”
“Are you okay?”
His brother’s concern cut right to the heart of him. “Yeah.” A quick flash of his smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Cale’s steady gaze asked, “I don’t know. Why aren’t you?”
He slowed his breathing, firmed his expression and said with befitting honesty, “Thanks for the offer. It means a lot.”
Cale shrugged off his suspicions. “If you’re heading back to your room, could you send Row over? I need to talk to him.”
“You want me to interrupt whatever he’s doing?”
“Better you than me.” Cale smiled. “It’s good to be king.”
After delivering Cale’s message and having the satisfaction of knowing he had, indeed, interrupted something, Colin returned to his room. There, he paced and he beat himself up for lying to his king, his brother, his friend, for wanting what he shouldn’t have, for using Rico as cannon fodder to get him out of the way, and for being so jealous of Turow’s happiness he wanted to beat him up.
What the hell was wrong with him? His heart’s desire and he turned it down? Not just turned it down but spat on it and tried to cover it in a deep hole . . . that empty cavern in his heart his family had once filled.
Talk to his mom? A slightly hysterical laugh escaped before he could catch it. Yeah, right. He could hear that conversation.
“Mom, I’m taking over Dad’s job because I deserve it. After killing him and your sons to save myself.”
There was a reason Bram hadn’t made the offer. His real father had seen into him and recognized him for the coward he was. Unable to stand up for what was right. Willing to let others fall . . . and die for his mistakes.
He should have gone with them. He should have insisted instead of being too intimidated by their king to demand it. His mother was right. Bram would have made sure he was protected. None of them would have died that day.
Cale was wrong. He was the one who couldn’t be trusted.
He had to get out of here. He had to put these demons behind him before they ate him alive. Colin knew what he wanted, and he knew where he wanted to go. And he knew who he wanted.
Why didn’t Mia Geudry want him for more than just the night?
When he couldn’t answer that, he forced himself to undercut his pride and go to the one person that might be able to tell him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sylvia Terriot, their new princess, wasn’t thrilled to find him at her door. She’d always seen right through his line of bull, and it didn’t serve his cause for her to call him on it with a most unflattering honesty. At least she’d prefaced it as attractive bull. Maybe because they’d shared some megawatt sexy times. Or maybe because she could afford to be generous now that she had everything. He hoped it wasn’t because she saw him as pathetic and took pity on him. But it was probably the later.
He’d always liked Sylvia for her crap-stripping honesty in all but the most important things . . . like betraying their family. They had that in common, and he wasn’t thrilled to admit he’d come to her for advice on how to capture and keep the wrong woman of his dreams.
Her answer was too simple. And too complex. Trust.
Be honest. Be genuine. Be dependable. All the things Turow apparently excelled in while Colin was batting a big goose egg. He couldn’t be honest with himself let alone with a suspicious female who had no reason to believe a word he said.
And he had no reason to trust Rico’s motives when his brother called and asked him to meet him in town at one of the posh ski resorts. But he went because the alternative was spending time alone with his own whiny-ass company.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” his brother announced.Colin was instantly wary. “Yeah? What kind of surprise?”
Rico grinned. “You’ll see.”
Imagining all sorts of unpleasant shocks, Colin allowed himself to be led across the glassed-in patio where a huge fireplace emitted a melting heat for those who’d braved the slopes, and a well-stocked bar inviting those who’d rather warm the insides than freeze the outsides.
But he could never have imagined what awaited him.
“Oh, sweet mother.” He took a staggering step back. Rico caught his elbows to brace him up as emotions crippled him. “So beautiful,” he whispered as his eyes flooded and his throat burned. “They’re so beautiful. And . . . big!” A shaky laugh. “How did you—”
Rico gave him a push forward. “Go say hello.”
Heels dug in. “No! I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Go on!”
Colin couldn’t take that forward step, fearing he’d break down bawling like the child he’d been the last time he’d seen them. His sisters. Half-sisters.
They sat at one of the tables near a window with a view of the runs, bulky coats hanging off their chair backs as they watched skiers slal
om by. Teenagers on the cusp of womanhood.
Where had the time gone?
The eldest, Lucy, who must have been almost eighteen, glanced over. Her eyes went wide. Her features fixed.
“Damn you, Red,” he choked out furiously. “You didn’t tell them I’d be here.”
“Wait for it,” Rico soothed with smug confidence.
A high female squeal erupted. “Colin!”
Lucy leapt up, racing through the crowd of tables to fling arms and legs around him. The scent of her flooded him with a whirl of poignant memories as he buried his face in her red-gold hair, hugging tight, unsure of how he’d ever let go.
“What are you doing here, little girl?” he managed to choke out. “I can’t believe it’s you!”
Another figure burrowed in, a smaller version of the young woman squeezing him like an orange into soggy pulp. Colin worked an arm free to include her. The only thing keeping him together was the sight of their middle sister, Kate, probably all of sixteen, who kept a cautious distance, her gaze that of their disapproving mother.
Lucy lessened her strangle hold to pull his head down so she could pepper his damp face with kisses. She leaned back, eyes shining, to adore him.
“You’re so handsome! And so big! Of course, you were a giant when I was six. I’d’ve known your voice anywhere. It was all deep and rough as sand paper even then.”
She and June, the youngest of the three girls, started chattering, demanding to know how he was, what he’d been doing, where he was staying, trying to crowd over a dozen years into seconds. And he couldn’t, absolutely could not, force himself to release them.
Until Kate interrupted with a terse, “We shouldn’t be here. Not talking to him. When Momma finds out—”
“Who’s going to tell her?” Lucy snapped. “You? You would, you little suck up. Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll make you sorry.” She stepped free of Colin’s embrace, but her hand clutched his as she faced her middle sister, shoulders squared, adopting a cold-eyed stare that was the image of Colin Terriot.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble,” Colin murmured, hugging the two girls to him again so he could kiss the tops of their heads. “Not because of me.” Did he have to let them go so soon? The pain of it was almost too much.
