The girl looked like a doll in her little bonnet and black Amish gown. Larissa scooped the child up. “Did you have fun with your uncle, Mariah?”
Delilah eyed the men. The one was Christian’s half-brother. They stepped up on the porch and Grace’s expression hardened.
“Hello, Grace,” Dane said.
Grace said nothing.
“Was she well-behaved for you, Cain?” Larissa asked the other man. Talk about your Amish cover models. Why didn’t these men have beards?
“As always.” He leaned in and kissed Destiny. His lips lingered over hers a pulse longer than what Li would assume was appropriate. He whispered something over her lips and Destiny’s caramel cheeks turned a dusty shade of rose.
“Hi, I’m Cain,” he said, turning toward Delilah.
“This is Delilah, Christian’s mate,” Destiny introduced. The man smiled easily as his gaze appraised her.
“Does Christian know you’re here?” the other man asked.
Her hackles rose at the chastising tone in Dane’s voice. The guy was a punk, she decided. “Yes. Not that it matters anyway. I go where I want.”
Dane didn’t smile, but Cain did.
“So Christian finally has himself a female. This should be interesting,” Cain commented.
Dane continued to stare at her. Jeeze, take a picture. It’ll last longer.
“Dane, you’re being rude,” Grace snapped, then muttered, “Not that I should be surprised.”
Dane’s gaze immediately left Delilah and turned to Grace. Whoa, talk about unspoken tension. Awkward…
Annalise broke the tension and asked, “Have you seen Adam, Cain?”
He pulled away from his wife. “He’s working on something in the barn with Little Cain. Said he’d be done shortly.”
“I better wake Lucy then and head home to start on dinner. Are you two joining us tonight?”
Cain hesitated as if the idea was unpleasant. Destiny slapped his arm. “Yes, we’ll be there,” she said.
Cain looked up at the sky. “Well, we still have a few hours to kill before my dear sister tries to poison us. Come, Destiny, let us go see about that thing…”
They must be newlyweds. The sexual tension was enough to choke a horse.
“But Delilah just got here.”
“E agora eu estou aquil eu o quero nu.”
Wow, talk about sexy. Delilah had no idea what Cain just said to his wife, but holy hell was it sexy.
As soon as he purred out that line, Destiny’s cheeks flushed and she stood. “Well, we have to be going. Anna, we’ll see you in a few hours.”
Cain walked to the gate and waited.
“It was nice meeting you, Delilah.”
She was in awe at the display of lust right before her eyes. The other girls seemed to ignore it, but Delilah couldn’t look away. It must be incredible to be wanted with such blatant need.
“It was nice meeting you too.”
“If you’re free tonight, why don’t you and Christian join us at Anna and Adam’s for supper?”
“Oh, I…I’d have to ask Christian.”
“Well, if he doesn’t mind—”
There was a loud crack of thunder and they all jumped. Cain playfully said, “Destiny, your husband has needs. Deixe-nos ir!”
Destiny rolled her eyes. “I gotta go before we all end up in a storm. Anna will give you directions to her house.” She turned, hiked her skirts, and ran off to her husband. He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, planting a hand firmly on her ass before toting her off.
“Ignore them,” Grace said, rolling her eyes. “Cain’s a pervert.”
“He’s not a pervert. They’re in love. There’s nothing wrong with being affectionate with your mate,” Dane said snidely.
Gracie scoffed. “I suppose you’re right. At least he has the decency to be loyal and not pay every warm blooded female the same attention, unlike other males I know.”
“Get over it, Grace,” Dane muttered.
“Oh, I am over it, Dane. Make no mistake.”
The man’s jaw popped. He narrowed his eyes then turned to Larissa. “Eleazar asked that you return home within the hour. He asked that I walk you back.”
Larissa sighed. “Will that man ever trust me to get from place to place on my own?”
Gracie rolled her eyes again. “You would think if he was worried about your fragile sensibilities he would find a more honorable escort for you.”
Okay, things were getting weird and Delilah wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was pretty positive Grace was not a fan of Christian’s half-brother, Dane.
Dane scowled at Grace, but said to Larissa, “Whenever you’re ready we can go.”
Larissa sighed. “Come on Mariah, we better head home before your Aunt Gracie harms poor Dane.”
They stood and said their goodbyes. Annalise returned to the inside of the house to get Lucy up from her nap. Soon enough it was only herself and Gracie sitting on the porch.
“I apologize. Dane and I used to be great friends, but I find him repulsive of late.”
Delilah’s brows lifted. “Uh, that’s okay. I’m not a big fan of his brother either.”
The girl tipped her head to the side. “I do not know Christian very well. Is he kind?”
Is he kind? That was the million-dollar question. “I probably know him as well as you do. He’s…pushy and arrogant. He has a lot to make up for as far as I’m concerned.”
“But you chose to save him.”
“Save him?”
“Yes, from going unanswered,” Gracie said.
“You lost me.”
“When a male is called he must find his mate. If he does not he will grow feeish. They can die.”
A cold chill ran through Delilah’s blood. “He never told me that.”
“He had to have explained it on some level in order to get you to agree to mate him.”
“I didn’t agree.”
Gracie was about to say something else, but stilled, her mouth open, silent understanding registering in her eyes. “Oh,” she breathed. “I am sorry, Delilah. I did not know.”
The mood on the porch became overwhelmingly uncomfortable. Delilah wanted to talk to someone about everything that happened. “Is he allowed to do that?” she asked.
Gracie showed great interested in the stitch pattern of her apron.
“Gracie, I have no one here. Please talk to me about this. I don’t want to get all my information from the man who took away my choice.”
“I cannot,” she whispered, appearing self-conscious someone might overhear.
“Why not?” Delilah balked. “I’m asking you. If you know the workings of this stuff, please tell me.”
Gracie looked left then right. She leaned in close. “It is a private matter between mates. It is against our laws to involve one’s self in such personal business.”
Delilah scoffed. “That’s bullshit. He’s not my mate. He’s my captor. I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. He brought me here and changed everything without even asking. Sometimes it takes everything I have not to strangle him. I would if I wasn’t sure he could stop me. He’s a strong son of a bitch. He may be able to overpower me in some ways, but I’ll never forgive him for doing this. He can’t force me to like him—”
Delilah’s words cut off as she took in Gracie’s expression. The girl was completely uncomfortable with what she was saying. Maybe she overestimated the given girl bond she assumed she would have with these women. Why was everyone here so fucking weird?
Then she understood. “Delilah.” Her name snapped through the air like the crack of a whip. She felt every drop of blood drain from her face.
Turning, she found Christian standing on the path. He’d likely heard every word she’d said. Her heart raced, but the bitch inside of her said, Good! He should know I hate him.
Rather than let him know that look of censure affected her she said, “See any likely sheep to play hide the gourd with?”
Gracie gasped and covered her mouth.
Christian’s eyes blazed. His nostrils flared and he growled.
The swish of Gracie’s dress told Delilah she was making her escape, but Li kept her eyes on Christian. No way was she going to let him intimidate her.
“Thank your hostess, Delilah.”
She hated following his orders, but she didn’t want to be rude. She could apologize later. Without turning her head, she said, “Thank you for having me, Gracie. I look forward to hanging out again.”
The girl made a noise between a whimper and a you’re welcome and fled into the house. The second the screen door snapped shut Christian was in front of her, yanking her to her feet. She snatched her hand out of his grip.
“Get off of me, jerk!”
He breathed in slow and deep, shoulders rising as he stared down at her. “I see I made a mistake, trusting you on your own.”
The idea of having to stay in that house alone for another week seemed the worst sort of punishment after an afternoon in the sun chatting with others. Her stubbornness faltered, but she bluffed her way through it, refusing to let him get the best of her.
“Seems to me, that’s all you ever make. Mistakes.”
Yanking up her skirts she marched past him. He followed, but she didn’t look back. She had no idea where she was going, but she marched on anyway. In her peripheral she saw several other Amish people—vampyres—whatever the hell you called them—working in the distance. Most of them were men. Where were all the women?
She walked without pause for over twenty minutes, stilling only for a moment to catch her breath. Her anger began to fade and her exhaustion returned with a vengeance. She practically stumbled once she acknowledged how bone tired she was. Shouldn’t she have had, like, super human strength or something? Maybe she was standing in a patch of vamp kryptonite. Something was draining all her energy.
Coming up on a lone rock at the corner of a harvested field, she sat. Her body nearly collapsed. Her bones screamed as her weight left her feet and she swayed. Christian was right there glowering at her. Her fingers trembled with exertion as she clumsily lowered her body to the ground.
“What are you doing?” he asked, still obviously pissed. Was the man ever not grumpy?
“What’s it look like? I’m sitting.”
“Are you ill?” He frowned.
“No,” she said snidely. “I’m just resting for a minute.”
His expression softened. He tipped his head and eyed her critically. She hated the when he looked at her like that, all sympathetic and understanding. Huffing, she turned her face as far away from him as possible, wishing she had the energy to simply keep moving.
Her gaze fell on a dandelion beside her, snapped at the base of its stem. Her fingers gently rolled over the toppled flower and the weed suddenly pulled upright as if on an invisible thread. The stem mending itself back together and its yellow petals taking on a brighter hue. Awesome.
Her body swayed and she vaguely heard Christian call her name. The world tilted and she was being scooped off of her rock and held securely in strong arms against a warm chest. Her head lolled and her eyes shut.
* * * *
Dane sat on the cool concrete, ignoring the sounds above of the bishop and his family settling in for their evening meal. The downfall of discovering his immortal half was that he fed and therefore had developed a keener sense of hearing.
Even down in the basement of the Safe House he could make out the quiet sounds of the world above, a piece of silverware scraping along a plate, Larissa’s soft laugh as Eleazar whispered something for her ears alone. He was grateful they allowed him unlimited time to visit his sister, but even their generosity regarding his sick sister, Cybil, enunciated his status of outcast.
He came here to get his mind off of Gracie, which was an impossible task. The girl was never far from the forefront of his mind. Dane wondered if things would ever return to the way they’d once been.
When he first arrived on the farm she’d been the first person in a long time that he’d been able to call a true friend. That friendship slowly evolved into something more for Dane, but Gracie never allowed him to forget that he was different. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He was mortal.
True, in the past two years he’d learned of his birth father and discovered he did have some immortal genes, but for the most part he was ordinarily mortal. The entire idea of immortals having only one true mate made it impossible for Gracie to see him as anything more than a friend and as a mortal male he had natural urges.
His mind detoured away from Gracie’s bright blue eyes and dark wavy hair. Flashes of wild blonde curls and Maggie’s long spine spun through his brain. His body instantly reacted. Dane shifted his weight.
He was twenty. How did she expect him not to react to a willing, attractive woman? Maggie was like him, a half-breed. She’d taught him much about his genetic makeup, how it was different from the others on the farm, how he was limited, and how feeding enhanced his immortal gifts. Blood was strength and Maggie openly offered hers to him.
It was a biological reaction to become aroused while feeding from the opposite sex. He and Maggie had discovered ways to stave off two kinds of hungers. It was a pleasant arrangement—until Gracie discovered what they were up to. For over a year now nothing had been right between him and his old friend. He missed her.
While Maggie was fun and easygoing, she was not Gracie. She did not trigger the same reactions in him that Gracie did. Perhaps it was a case of simply wanting what he knew he could never have. And the more time that passed without forgiveness, the more Dane admitted Gracie was a female he would never know in the carnal sense.
She was saving herself for her one true mate. Half-breeds did not get callings. Gracie someday would dream of another male and give herself mind, body, and soul to him.
Dane’s fists clenched. The idea of another man knowing her in such a way twisted his gut to the point of pain. But there was nothing to change the destiny they all so wholeheartedly believed in, a destiny that did not include him or Maggie. So he had continued his liaison with the other woman.
His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle shift in the cell before him. Cybil, his younger sister, once so gentle and kind, now a deranged transition sick with bloodlust, slept silently on a pallet in the corner of her cell.
Dane rarely visited her. She was so far gone from the sweet child she’d once been. He’d forgotten her voice and no longer thought in terms of the past. This was who she had been for the past three years. Now, almost in adulthood, his sixteen-year-old sister looked nothing like the girl he had grown up with.
Her eyes opened in an abrupt flash of awareness. Blood red orbs turned on him as her head dispassionately turned. She growled.
He sighed. His presence was becoming less and less sought after everywhere he went. “Good evening, Cybil.”
And then came the deeper growl of the male in the cell beside her. Isaiah. Everything wrong in Dane’s world, he believed, could be traced back to that animal. Although the Hartzlers had given him shelter and saved him from a life trapped in the care of the government with the rest of the orphans of the world, Isaiah Hartzler was not part of those he looked upon kindly.
Everything changed the moment he and Cybil had come upon an animal in the woods holding their mother’s lifeless body. Cybil had screamed the last of her words that night. It was the night their reality had shifted forevermore.
Dane stared into Isaiah’s cell, taunting him with the freedom the three hundred year old deranged male lacked. He hated him. He had murdered their mother and now resided in the cell right beside his deranged sister. There was probably some poetic symbolism there that he was missing, but he didn’t give a shit. He wanted him dead and grew more and more aggravated with the counsel’s reluctance to end the other male’s useless life once and for all.
He knew they were holding off because Isaiah was Ezekiel’s brother and it would pain the
other elder to see his kin destroyed, but Dane believed justice should be served. The animal had killed his mother and ended the lives of dozens more while running wild in the woods. Either The Order would destroy him or eventually Dane would. He just had to figure out how.
Cybil sat up and stared at him. Dane no longer believed she recognized him as anything more than an intruder to her solitude. He found little comfort in being there, yet he returned once every few days out of a sense of duty—or perhaps his own pathetic loneliness.
He picked up the long stick that leaned against the cool plaster wall and nudged the pewter goblet of blood through the bars of her cell. In a flash she snatched up the offering, guzzled it like the animal she’d become, and threw the empty cup back at him. It hit the wall beside his head with a crash, sending a dusting of plaster flurrying over his shoulder.
Ingrate.
Her pale lips were stained crimson to match her eyes. Her wild mass of gold hair formed a halo around her youthful face. Isaiah purred.
Neither spoke so Dane was constantly left guessing what was actually going on. Cybil didn’t seem to mind Isaiah’s presence so close to her prison. He wondered if she even realized the male was the beast that killed their mother.
She turned and faced the wall separating their cells. Her motions were jerky and abrupt. Lurching back to Dane she narrowed her red eyes. Slowly she stood and walked to the corner of her cell, leaning into the bars and the wall dividing the two prisoners. Isaiah did the same.
She pressed her face along the plaster wall and purred like a cat, eyes closing, small white fangs still tipped in red showing over her parted lips. Dane’s spine stiffened as Isaiah’s hand reached through the bars of his own cell and into Cybil’s. The vibrations coming from her throat grew louder. She dragged her cheek over the male’s dirty knuckle.
“Hey!” Dane snapped. “Don’t touch her!”
Isaiah did not remove his hand. He simply lowered his chin and narrowed his eyes as if laughing at Dane, daring him to stop him from touching his sister.
Dane stood, unsure what to do. The male, although caged, was immeasurably stronger than he’d ever be.
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