by Olivia Arran
A heartfelt sigh reached my ears along with the rustling of fabric, and then I felt a hand on my elbow. “It’s been a tough few years, Vincent. You’ve got to understand—what happened affected all of us, not just you.”
Did she think I didn’t know that? Didn’t get that I’d fucked up big time? Why did she think I’d left in the first place?
At my silence she patted my arm and flashed me a weak smile. “Why don’t you go get some sleep? Your old room is available and you must be tired after your travels. I take it you caught up with your friends?” She wrinkled her nose delicately, hinting that I stank of booze. “We can all catch up in the morning over breakfast. Does that work for you?”
I shoved back the urge to storm upstairs and give Eddie a good shake. “Sure thing, Mother.” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, resigning myself to a restless night with too many questions and not enough answers.
“Listen to you, sounding all American!” she called after me as I headed up the stairs.
“Why is he back?” Father’s words drifted up to me, and I paused on the balcony to listen.
“Can’t you be happy that he’s here? Why do you have to be so sharp with him?”
I missed my father’s reply but I was guessing it was a low curse, then Mother answered, her voice shrill, “Don’t go scaring him away. I swear, Charles, if he leaves again because of you—”
Her voice cut off, muffled sobs followed by loud footsteps reaching my ears.
Then silence.
I started toward my room, the floor creaking under my weight.
“Are you happy now?” My father’s low growl echoed up the stairs.
Rather than say something I’d later regret, my feet didn’t stop until I was inside my room. Throwing myself onto my childhood bed, I stuffed a pillow under my head and contemplated the ceiling. Happy to be back? I couldn’t wait to escape again and leave all of this bullshit behind. I only wished I could have avoided hurting Mother.
My eyes started to close, weighed down by jet lag and worry. The bedroom blurred, the colors dimming. I’d make it up to her; bring her over to America for a visit. Write more letters, phone more, do better.
The promises echoing in my head, I gave up the fight, succumbing to sleep. Vivid dreams stormed through my mind, of faceless women and a man with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes, their mouths open in silent screams for help, begging to be found.
And a woman with big brown eyes and coal-black lashes, her face eclipsed by a large black hood, smiling at me—then walking away.
Chapter Six
Vin
The next morning all I wanted to do was pull the pillow over my head and go back to fucking sleep. Anything to put off going downstairs to have the conversation I knew was coming.
But I had a job to do, and to do it I needed to slide back into my old life. I needed access to the British Shifter Council, which meant I had to bring my father around and get back on his good side.
Punching the pillow, I hurled it across the room, then, for good measure, hurled myself out of bed and into the shower. Cranking the temperature to ball-shriveling-freezing level, I had the fastest wash in history and by the time I was rummaging through my old closet I was wide awake, mind locked into business mode.
I dragged on the fourth set of jeans I’d dug out, this time managing to get them up and past my thighs. Snapping the buttons shut, I grabbed a shirt and threw it on. A half-hearted attempt, followed by a full-on monkey dance and I finally admitted that I wasn’t the man I’d once been. Add on another fifty or so pounds for a ballpark guess. Tugging the shirt off, I squeezed into a T-shirt and then slipped the shirt back on over the top, leaving it hanging open. It would have to do.
Toeing my boots on, I left the room and strode down the stairs toward the dining room. What would be the best way to get on the old man’s good side?
Saliva pooled in my mouth and my stomach let out an undignified rumble as the aroma of freshly cooked bacon and eggs drifted on the air. Following my nose, I entered the dining room, heading straight to my Mother. Dropping a kiss on her cheek, I took a seat next to her, purposely ignoring everyone else in the room.
“Did you sleep well, dear?” Mother’s voice sounded loud in the suddenly silent room.
Flicking out a napkin and draping it over my lap, I smiled at her and replied, “Like a baby.” I didn’t mention the weird dreams that had plagued me all night, the unending chase through the streets of London for a girl I had only briefly met. Not to mention the missing people. Nope, I hadn’t slept a goddamn wink.
She murmured something, returning to her breakfast of a cream cheese bagel and smoked salmon.
I could feel my father’s eyes on me. Eddie’s too, though he wasn’t quite the master at it that our father was.
“Are you back for good then?” The same question Mother had asked last night, but Father’s was straight to the point.
Mother sucked in a breath, her fork hovering over her plate in stasis.
Accepting a plate of bacon and eggs from the cook—a new one I hadn’t yet met—I murmured my thanks and flashed her a quick smile. Scooping up a forkful of fluffy eggs, I paused with it halfway to my mouth. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Noting my father’s deepening glower out of the corner of my eye, I concentrated on shoveling the food into my mouth, pausing only to wash it down with sips of dark, rich coffee.
“You eat like an animal.”
“Charles! You promised!”
“I’m eating like this so I don’t go hungry once we start arguing.” Setting my knife and fork back down, I leaned back and very nearly patted my stomach. But that would have been too much, even for me. Instead, I glanced around the table, giving them my full attention for the first time, though I had memorized every detail from the second I had entered the room, my training kicking in. But they didn’t know that. “Right. Let’s have this out then.”
He sprung from his chair, slamming a fist down on the table with a crash. “You don’t get to waltz in here and speak to me like that in my own home!”
I folded my napkin and placed it carefully on the table. “How would you like me to speak to you?” I eyed the older man, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t cowed by his display of dominance.
Mother lurched from her chair. “Please, Charles, let’s talk about this.”
“He needs to understand his place in the family, Elizabeth.”
I rested a hand on her arm, urging her to sit back down. I could handle this. “And what place is that?” I deliberately looked over at Eddie, who was suited and booted, not a hair out of place. “I’ve been replaced, and I’m okay with that. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Eddie flinched and my father visibly faltered, thrown for a brief second. “So, why are you here?” he grunted out.
“I missed home.” Let them interpret that how they wanted. I had missed home, a little anyway. Not enough to want to come back though…
My father sat back down, his brows drawn in thought. “And what are you going to be doing while you’re back?”
I pretended to think about it, then shrugged. “The usual probably.”
A loud snort met my answer. “You mean drinking and gallivanting with that group of idiots you call friends? Screwing everything that walks?”
Mother’s hand flew to her mouth in a gasp. “Charles!”
I pretended to consider his question. Actually, I hadn’t screwed everything that walked, but people liked to elaborate with stories, especially when they were jealous… “Maybe.”
“Not under my roof, you’re not. If you’re back then you’ll behave properly this time around. It was that kind of behavior that got you into this mess in the first place.”
A faint smile played at my lips. This was going better than I’d thought. “Properly?”
“Like a gentleman.” His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
With what? I dreaded to think.
I chose my next wo
rds carefully. “Like a first-born son?”
My father’s face spread in a wide smile, his hands slapping the table for emphasis. “Exactly. But you need to commit. You’re either staying or you’re not welcome.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Decide soon.” With that he checked his watch then stood up.
The conversation was clearly over.
Walking around the table, he bent to kiss Mother goodbye, and for the first time since arriving home I saw a glimpse of the man I remembered from my childhood. Genuine love and affection shone in his eyes when he looked at his mate.
It was the only reason I’d been okay leaving Mother back here in England. I knew he loved her and would never let anybody or anything hurt her.
He glanced at me as if remembering something, but I clocked the calculated gleam. “There’s a party tomorrow night. You’re going. You too,” he said to Eddie, as if remembering him for the first time. “And get yourself something appropriate to wear. You look like a dog’s dinner.”
With those final words he strode from the room.
It felt like all the air had been sucked out with him.
Eddie stood up with a clatter.
“You going to this party?” I called after him before he had chance to leave.
He turned, resignation clear on his face. “I don’t have a choice. None of us do.” The door closed behind him silently.
“What’s all that about? A party?”
“Just a little gathering, dear. You’ll have fun! It’ll give you the chance to catch up with everyone.”
There was something she wasn’t telling me; her voice was high-pitched and flustered. Not to mention the hand she was fluttering in front of her face. It didn’t take a highly trained operative to know something was going on. “Mother…”
“You need to go shopping. Buy something special for tomorrow night.”
I sighed, as if resigning myself to my fate, but actually I was exactly where I wanted to be. Tomorrow night was the perfect opportunity to do a little digging and a little eavesdropping. “A suit?”
She nodded, picking up her teacup and taking a sip. “Where is your luggage, by the way?”
Didn’t bring any. Not that my clothes would have fit in around here. Last night at the club had proved that. “Lost.”
She met my eyes, excitement pinking her cheeks. “You need a whole new wardrobe then!”
I bit back a groan, scraping together some enthusiasm. I wasn’t getting paid enough for this… “Sure. Fancy a shopping trip?”
“I thought you’d never ask!”
Chapter Seven
Vin
I tugged at the starched collar that threatened to cut off all my air, giving it one final yank for good luck, then shoved my hands in my pockets.
“Vincent,” Mother hissed out of the corner of her mouth.
It was just like being a pup again; when I’d come downstairs earlier this evening she’d fussed over my hair and straightened my jacket, an approving hum coming from her.
I pulled my hands out of my pockets and grasped them at my front. Like a damn bodyguard. The irony had me biting back a chuckle, and I settled for a smirk.
My phone buzzed and I fished it out of my pocket, glancing at the display. It was Angel, my teammate. Strolling over to the side of the room, I slipped out into the corridor and hit answer. “Christ, you’ve got the timing of a—”
Angel cut me off. “I need some help down here.”
“No can do, sorry. I’m up to my ears in—” Out of the corner of my eye I clocked Tamara striding toward me, a sultry smile on her face. The last thing I wanted was to be cornered out here, with her. “Shit.” I shoved the phone against my side, greeting her with a smile.
She stopped inches away from me, her hand stroking down the front of my jacket. “What are you doing skulking around out here? It’s about to start, and I promise you won’t want to miss this.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” I winced as her eyes narrowed at my overly sharp dismissal.
“Are you feeling okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”
I forced a smirk onto my face and admiration into my eyes. “No, really, I’m fine. I’m just stretching my legs, darling.”
I heard Angel’s faint echo of my endearment and pressed the phone tighter to my side. Luckily, Tamara took the hint and headed off back into the party. And I was pretty sure the extra sway to her hips was for my benefit.
I shoved the phone back to my ear. “I’ve got to go but I’m texting the team, I’ll get somebody over there,” I hissed, not giving Angel to chance to ask questions.
“Where the hell are you?”
I sighed, the reality of what I was doing hitting me again. “Home.” I jabbed the End button, fired off a text to Jason and Macey, and strolled back into the main room.
“What did I miss?” I murmured, retaking my place at Mother’s side.
She frowned at me, disapproval clear in her eyes. Then she gave me one last pat on the arm—in approval, or for good luck, hell if I knew—and abandoned me.
All around me people moved in the sinuous glide of the elite and well-connected doing what they did best. Socializing.
I was already bored to tears.
A hand nudged my elbow and a drink was thrust into my hand. “You look like you need this.”
“You’re speaking to me now?” I asked Eddie, curling my fingers around the crystal tumbler protectively.
He shrugged, raising his own glass to his lips. “I’ve had some time to think.”
Smooth brandy coated my throat, the liquid rich and thankfully carrying a numbing bite. “And?”
“Now that you’re back, maybe I’ll get a little less attention.” His gaze scanned the room as if looking for something. Or somebody.
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“In some respects it is, others, not so much.” He gave up his search, turning to me, eagerness lighting his eyes. “Hopefully you being back will give me a little more time.”
I shoved my hands back in my pockets, only half-listening. I’d just clocked my father talking to a couple of his old cronies, all members of the Shifter Council, if I remembered correctly. I narrowed my eyes as my father waved his hand around the room, then leaned in closer in a conspiratorial huddle.
“…Why they arranged this whole evening. Can you believe it? But now all eyes will be on you.” Eddie’s words drifted on the air to me.
My head whipped around. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re back. And because they expect you to select a mate.”
I almost choked on my own tongue. “They expect me to…” I couldn’t force the words out.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure there’s plenty of women here who’ll put your name down.”
“Put my name down?”
“In the ballot.”
“Ballot?”
My brother scowled at me, then gave me a shove. “The mating ballot. Christ, haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”
“And who’s organizing this ballot?”
“Who else? The Shifter Council.”
“Father’s involved?”
“Up to his neck, you could say. And I’m pretty sure they’ve just agreed for my name to be replaced with yours.” He tilted his head, and I followed his gaze across the room.
Father was motioning toward me, a smug smile on his face. One by one each of his companions nodded.
My hand tightened around the glass. Fuck.
Deftly plucking the glass out of my hands before it shattered into a million pieces, Eddie smirked at me, but his eyes were sad. “Don’t worry, you get first refusal if you have more than one offer.”
I blinked at him, my mouth gaping open like a fool. Like that made it any better. Then I remembered: none of this was real. I hadn’t really come home, I was leaving. I didn’t have to—
A loud, deep voice rang out over the room, commanding attention thro
ugh sheer force of will. Power lapped at my skin, curling around me and tasting in little nips and bites. “The ballot will begin. First the candidates will present themselves and answer some questions, then the voting shall begin.”
A low murmur filtered through the crowd, and I saw pleased smiles on the faces closest to me.
“Who’s that?” I murmured. Given my height advantage over a lot of the people here, I had a clear view of the man standing in the center of the room. About ten years younger than my father, he was nearly as tall as me with thick, dark hair loosely secured at the nape of his neck. Flint-gray eyes glinted with confidence as he surveyed the room, eventually coming to land on me.
The heavy power pressed against me, stroking my skin as if looking for entrance.
I stiffened, a low growl trickling from my lips as I shoved back with my own power. Who the hell did he think he was?
A single eyebrow arched in my direction, furrows forming in his brow as he pressed back.
Gritting my teeth against the prickling sensation, I curled my power into a metaphysical ball and shoved it at him. Hard.
The man’s feet slid a scant inch before he recovered, shaking himself off. Then he smiled, a wide encompassing grin.
“What did you just do?” Eddie sounded nervous.
I didn’t take my eyes off the man in front of me. “A little game of who’s the stronger wolf, I think.”
“And you won?”
I replayed the exchange in my mind, tasting the stranger’s power at the back of my mouth. “I’m not sure. Who is he?”
“That’s Corbin Desrain, the head of the Shifter Council.”
“New?”
“About six months.”
I stored the nugget of information away to evaluate later. “Does he do that to every new shifter he meets?”
A furrow appeared between Eddie’s eyebrows. “Not that I know of.”
“So I guess it’s just me that’s the lucky guy.”
“Vincent, I don’t think it’s a good idea—”
“Vincent Charles Brownstone III.” Corbin was looking directly at me when he called my name.
