West (A Darkness Series Novel)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “What’s wrong, West? Talk to me.” Rez’s sweet brown eyes compelled me to look away.

  I couldn’t put this on her. It was my burden, my horror to live with. We needed to keep our distance, and telling her the one thing I had never told anyone went against that.

  “I’m okay.” I took her hand away from my face, squeezing it with mine. “How are you feeling?”

  Rez tilted her head, eyes watching me critically. “Could be worse.”

  “You hungry?”

  A frown dug between her eyebrows, but she let my bullshit play out. And I was grateful for that. I couldn’t have handled her digging at this wound.

  “You must be starving. Healing consumes a lot of calories. The day after I healed from a deep injury, I inhaled the kitchen, then went to our local diner and ordered everything on the menu. Just for breakfast.”

  “Yeah. Food would be good.” She took a step back, staring at the ground, gloom weighing her down.

  “Hey.” I grabbed her chin. “Are you okay?” Being gutted by Yogi Bear probably messed you up for a bit.

  She let out a shaky exhale. “I didn’t like waking and finding you gone.” She looked straight into my eyes, her voice unwavering.

  Not what I was expecting. I dropped my hand from her face and shoved them in my pockets.

  “Sorry, darlin’. Won’t happen again.” For many reasons. The main one was she wouldn’t be staying here long enough for me to do anything to her. I wasn’t looking forward to bringing up that topic. Feeding her first was the best plan before I told her I was sending her back to the States. “Let’s go get some breakfast.” I put my hand on her lower back, turning her toward town. We trudged over the mucky hill, dodging the sheep droppings, to the road.

  Before we hit the path, I glanced over my shoulder to the spot where I had been standing.

  “You think you deserve someone like Rez? You’d destroy that beautiful creature and you know it. You know you will only be truly free with me.”

  Even from the grave, Aneira could still reach me, tearing the only bit of happiness I had, driving her claws deep.

  The truth always finds you.

  We found a café in the tiny village of Doolin, the smells of frying ham and eggs ran around my empty stomach like a dozen chickens at feeding time. Rez and I both ordered two meals.

  “Hungry this morning?” Our waitress was short and plump, her face angelic. Her eyes lit up, and she winked at both of us.

  “You have no idea, sweetheart.” I gave her a full flirty smile and red splotches appeared in her creamy white skin. “And if you could grab us a basket of muffins to tide us over, I would be most obliged.”

  “Uh. Uh…of course,” she stammered. Her name tag read Noreen.

  Rez rolled her lips together, looking at the table. I received a sharp boot kick to the shin under the table.

  “Oh, and if you have clotted cream and jam…” I licked my lips, staring straight into Noreen’s eyes. “I think I would just die of happiness.” I laid my southern accent on even thicker.

  “Of course…anything.” She nodded, patting her forehead before she took off for the kitchen.

  “You are awful.” Rez snorted. “I swear even if they didn’t have cream, she would be out churning it for you right now.”

  I sat back in my chair with a laugh. I knew how women responded to me, especially with the accent. I can’t say I hadn’t used it over the years to get my way. But the one person who seemed completely immune to it was sitting across from me.

  “Do you always get what you want?” She slipped off her coat, laying it back over the chair, still wearing my hoodie underneath. I looked anywhere but at her, knowing she had no bra on beneath. Dammit. I shifted in my seat at the thought. “Smile, toss in the accent, and have them wrapped around your finger?”

  “Or my dick.” Speaking of…

  She rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair, a scowl fluttering over her face.

  “How are your wounds?” I wanted to unzip the hoodie at the table to see if they were healed. “I want to look at your cuts after we eat.”

  “They’re healing. I looked at them when I woke up.” She touched her side. “Only sore now.”

  I exhaled and sat back, running a hand over my hair. I wanted to wait till after we ate, but now seemed a perfect time to bring up her leaving. I grabbed my coffee and took a chug, burning my tongue. I could feel her eyes on me. Did she sense what I was about to say?

  “Rez…” I started. Noreen stopped me, bringing a basket of muffins and bread and six ramekins full of cream and jam to the table. I gave her a big smile, but it dropped the moment she walked away. “Rez—”

  “Don’t.” She cut me off, waggling her head.

  “Don’t what? You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

  “You want me to leave.” Well, so much for her not knowing. “And I’m telling you right now, I am not going anywhere, so you can forget it.”

  “After what happened last night…” I rolled my fists into a ball. “I can’t protect you. Not like I should.”

  “I don’t need your protection.” She leaned over the table, darts of anger pinching around her eyes.

  “You don’t need my protection?” I let out a derided laugh. “Really? Your guts pouring out on the floor last night says differently.”

  “That was with your protection.”

  I inhaled, the sting of her statements cutting deep.

  She grabbed her necklace, running the charm along the chain. “I didn’t mean that,” she fumbled. “I knew what I was getting into. I wasn’t disillusioned. I knew this would be dangerous. I may not be a fighter like you, or even Ember, but I can defend myself. You don’t need to protect me or bubble wrap me. I’m stronger than you know.”

  “Jesus, Rez, everything you’ve been through, you are one of the strongest women I know, but you are not a fighter. It’s not anything to be ashamed about. Sirens aren’t designed for battle. It’s not in your nature, but fighting is mine. I can’t help wanting to protect you; it’s who I am. Plus, I want to keep my head…and if anything happened to you, under my care, Lars would kill me.”

  “No, he wouldn’t.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Death is part of battle.”

  “What?” I scoffed. “Are you serious? You are the Unseelie King’s mistress. I think he’d be a little more than put out. Believe me, losing the woman you love…you want to take the whole world out.”

  “I am not the woman Lars would destroy the world for.” Every muscle in Rez’s neck and face strained, fury rolling off her. She spoke cool and steady. “She’s already dead.” The chair scraped the floor as she scooted back, standing. “And I am certainly not the one he loves. So you can stop worrying over what happens to me. I am on this mission with you as an equal partner, and you will not dictate if or when I leave. It is my choice. Not yours.” She grabbed her jacket so furiously she knocked over the chair in her rush out the door.

  What the hell happened? My mouth hung open in shock as I tried to ignore the stares from the tables around me. I felt like an even bigger ass. In my fear, I had committed the ultimate caveman move: treated her like she was less than me, that my rule was dominant.

  Dark Dwellers were protective, territorial, and possessive, but we weren’t sexist. Women in our clan were treated exactly like the men, even in battle. They were actually far stealthier and faster than the males. I would never have treated Gabby like this or Samantha. In my defense, I worried more because she wasn’t like Gabby. Sirens could kill without even touching their victim, but only underwater. Rez was vulnerable on land, but I had no right to tell her to leave. I groaned, raking my hands over my face.

  “Uh…” A voice popped my head up. Noreen stood over me with four dishes stacked along her arms.

  “Noreen, would you do me the biggest favor and wrap those up?” I forced myself to smile sweetly at her.

  “Certainly.” She nodded, her gaze trailing from Rez’s overturned chair to
the door.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” I chuckled lightly. “Looks like I might be in the doghouse.”

  “She’ll forgive you.” Noreen smiled sweetly, her green eyes bright. “Only a moment with you two and it’s not hard to see you’re both completely in love.” She turned and walked away.

  I opened my mouth to object to her observation, but she was already halfway to the kitchen. In love? Oh. Hell. No. Lust maybe…I liked her. A lot. But nothing more.

  I had loved only once. I would never let myself again.

  Containers in hand, I ventured out onto the street, searching for Rez. I spotted her a block away sitting on a stone wall and staring at the gurgling Aille River. Her hair cascaded around her while she huddled deeper into her jacket against the cold air.

  I jogged toward her, my apology already on my lips.

  She beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” Her shoulders drooped, and she stared at the darkening clouds. “I shouldn’t have run out like that.”

  I pitched one leg over the wall, straddling it so I could face her. “You are not the one who should be apologizing.” I set the cartons between us. “I had no right to tell you to leave.”

  She jerked her head to me, her brown eyes sweeping over my face.

  “We’re partners,” I said, feeling myself being drawn closer to her. “I’m not sorry for worrying about you, but I will try not become a sexist dick.”

  She let out a laugh, which sounded like music. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “Did I promise?” I widened my eyes in mock horror. “No, I said I’ll try…big difference, darlin’.”

  She grinned and our eyes connected. An electrical current zapped between us. Her smile faded, and her gaze became more intense. It was like a brick fell on my lungs, smashing out all the air. Every inch of my skin was alive, aware of the slightest breath of air or brush of skin. I leaned forward with the impulse to kiss her, to run my hands through her hair, cup the back of her neck.

  Then I saw her lips part.

  The explosion of desire set off an alarm in my head. Code red. Code red. The warning bells went off. Need distraction pronto.

  “Um…” I looked down, my fingers tapping on the takeout boxes. “Figured you’re still starving.”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Remind me to stomp out after I eat.”

  “It’s still warm.” I handed her the top box.

  “We don’t have utensils.” She took the container, lifting the lid.

  “You do. They’re called fingers.” I wiggled mine and dug into my food, popping a piece of omelet into my mouth. “Come on, let etiquette go. I swear it tastes as good without a plate and fork.”

  She swung her leg over the wall, matching my position and delicately pinched at her omelet, barely picking up a morsel, and placed it on her tongue.

  “You can do better than that.” I shook my head, challenging her.

  Looking at me through her lashes, she grinned mischievously, and my heart slammed into my ribs. She picked up half the omelet, shoveled it into her mouth, then clasped her hand over her mouth, fighting between laughing, choking, and chewing.

  “That’s my girl.” I guffawed, enjoying watching her relax and be silly. Wait. What did I just say?

  Her eyes darted to mine then back at her breakfast, still trying to finish her bite.

  “Oh, those look good.” I grabbed for the small potatoes drenched in butter and salt.

  “Hey.” Her hand slapped mine. “Back off my breakfast, or I’m going after yours.”

  “All’s fair in love and war, including breakfast, darlin’.”

  A twinkle glinted her eyes. I already sensed her next move.

  Her hand jetted out for my food, but my fingers caught her wrist, stopping her. “I didn’t say mine. Technically, I bought them. Gives me rights to all.”

  “Oh really?” An eyebrow curved up, and it was an instant before her other hand grabbed for the huge slab of ham in my container. I tried to snatch it, but she shoved half of it in her mouth, the other half sticking out between her lips. She squealed, twisting her head as my fingers pinched the end, ripping off what was left and chucking it into my mouth.

  “Now it’s war.” I grinned, broke open her second container, and seized an egg. Getting a poached egg into your mouth without breaking it is a lot harder than it looks. She retaliated by stealing my bacon. But I nicked a pancake in return.

  The prim-and-proper Rez disappeared. Giggling and snorting, she stuffed food into her mouth until she had chipmunk cheeks. All I could think was she looked fuckin’ adorable. Then the siren did something I wasn’t expecting. Picking up the last poached egg, she leaned in, like she was going to feed it to me, and smashed it into my face.

  “Oh…” I laughed, yolk and bits of egg sliding down my chin. “Now, you’re asking for it, darlin’.” I scooped up the last bits of food in my tray, grease, butter, and sauce oozing over my fingers.

  “Oh no.” Rez scrambled off the wall, her laugh tainted with alarm.

  “Oh yes.” I leaped for her.

  Rez darted to the side, trying to get away from my reach. My long legs took only two strides before catching the hood of her jacket with one hand. Her body reeled back into mine, and I looped my free arm around her, holding her tight to my chest.

  “Like I said. All’s fair,” I whispered into her ear. She squealed, withering against me as my hand smeared food all over her face.

  She yelped and continued to try and fight me. I grabbed the front of her jacket, swinging her around to face me. Rez’s lips were slick and shiny from the butter, cream sauce coating one cheek, pieces of bacon and potatoes plastered to the other. The sight of her sullied face, her hair messy, and happiness brightening her eyes overpowered me, desire buckling my legs.

  “Fair? You got an egg. I’m like a buffet here.” A huge grin engulfed her face, her fingers wiping away the bits of food.

  A buffet I want to devour. I wanted to reach up, grab her chin, and slowly lick every morsel from her face, like an appetizer. Then move on to the main course. Every inch of her body. West... I turned away, grabbed napkins from the bag, and walked back to her, my boots hitting hers. Slowly I raised my arm, giving her a chance to stop me. She didn’t. My fingers held her chin as I wiped away the smeared breakfast off her face.

  “Would you believe that was my first food fight? Seen them in tons of movies, but always seemed like a waste of food. And messy.” Her gaze met mine.

  “You are a mess.” My throat felt tight, causing my voice to be low and gravelly. I could see her swallow, her gaze tracking mine. Damn. I wanted to kiss her. Badly.

  Her eyes glided to the side, like she sensed what I wanted to do. “So? What is our plan now? Those guys last night took most of the paperwork and maps.”

  Her face was clean, but I didn’t stop. The need to be close to her overruled my logic. “I saw a little bookshop down the street. We’ll see if they have any old books or maps of this area. Then we find a place to stay. Far off the grid.” I paused. “We’re close. They wouldn’t have attacked us if we weren’t on the right track.” I dropped away from her. “There. Breakfast free.”

  She touched her cheek, a slight frown on her lips. “I still feel like I rubbed my face in a butter dish.”

  “It’s good for the complexion.”

  “I don’t think grease and butter are good for the complexion.”

  “No, darlin’.” I bumped past her, heading toward the bookshop. “I meant laughing.”

  The bell chimed as we entered the bookstore. It was old and creaky and smelled of dust, paper, and cat. The husky black feline looked about as old as the store and slept on the counter atop a pile of dated magazines. It didn’t stir until it took a whiff of the beast within me, then its head popped up and it hissed at me.

  Yeah. Shape-shifters, especially Dark Dwellers, and domestic pets sometimes had a problem getting along. The more alpha the animals, the more we didn’t. I had to establish domina
nce. “Hey, fat bastard.” I scratched his head, staring him down. “You want to take me on?”

  Rez scoffed. “Be careful, it might be one feline even you can’t conquer.”

  “All pussies love me.” I held back my chuckle when she rolled her eyes. “Haven’t run into one yet that didn’t.”

  “Seriously, your ego is massive.”

  “So am I…that’s why.” I grinned.

  Rez rubbed her temples, groaning, and moved deeper into the small shop. I enjoyed taunting her and driving her out of her comfort zone way too much.

  Bookshelves stuffed the cramped space, holding books with leather or fiber covers. Maps and music posters dominated the walls. An entire section was dedicated to only Irish music. Doolin was known to be the center of their traditional music, where musicians played live in the pubs every night.

  “Hello?” Rez called out. Only the murmurings of Gaelic tunes played in the background.

  “Probably went out for a coffee or something. Not like tourists are pounding down the door this time of year.” I shrugged, looking around the racks.

  “And you two certainly aren’t tourists.” A musical Irish brogue rang from the back of the store. Rez and I jumped, jerking toward the woman. Definitely human, she looked to be in her fifties, short and round, and each of her voluptuous curves blended in with the other. Long, gray, frizzy hair stuck out of a colorful scarf tied around her head. She wore all black but had a multicolored shawl hanging over her shoulders. An earth mother type. Her energy was bright and warm. She was the kind of person you wanted to hug, taking consolation in her softness.

  The woman took a step closer, scanning over us. “You are not what I was expecting.”

  “Huh?” I jerked back, my defenses rising. “What do you mean expecting?”

  She tilted her head, clasping her hands. “I’ve been waiting for you two for a while now.”

  Rez was the first to fill the stunned silence. “I’m sorry?” She shook her head. “Waiting for us?”