by Dannika Dark
Adam wasn’t grotesque by any means, but he was marked.
I cupped his chin in my hands. “Remember what you once said to me? You never wanted to see me looking down. Take your own advice, Adam. You’re a Healer, and that’s something to be proud of. Many people are alive because of what you did. You’re compassionate, handsome, and—”
He jerked his head away and stepped back. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare mother me and tell me there’s nothing wrong; I think we both know that’s a line of bullshit and I don’t need you to stand there and tell me I’m handsome.”
Adam’s boots hammered down the stairs and I wondered if the man I once knew was lost. If he was that despondent with me, then perhaps Cheri was the only one who could get him through this.
Low voices drifted from one of the sitting rooms downstairs. Grandiose paintings lined the tan walls accented with brass wall sconces. A large, thin rug with elaborate designs smothered the floor. Novis held a captive audience as he filled their glasses with amber-colored alcohol from a decanter. Justus and Simon were seated while Adam leaned against a doorframe. Cheri stood at his side, holding her arms tightly. She rubbed her cotton-candy-colored lips together, but it looked more like she was suppressing a smile when she caught sight of me.
“That’s a really sassy dress,” Simon began. “It’s very—”
“Cheri’s. She was kind enough to lend me some of her clothes,” I interrupted. Simon’s mouth usually ran without a filter.
Justus smoothed his hand across his arm. “Anything of value has been moved to our new home. We’re working on the security.”
“What’s the damage?” I cringed at how easily that flew out of my mouth.
Simon widened his legs. “The whole place was trashed—including the cars. Sodding bastards destroyed the lot of them.”
My eyes floated to Justus. “We should have taken one of the nicer cars but the Ducati was the only thing that we could move quietly up the ramp. I’m so sorry.”
“I still have the Aston,” Justus said, rubbing his chest as if pained. “It was the only car I truly enjoyed—aside from the Mercedes.”
Destroying a man’s car collection is as good as instigating war.
“Wipe that look off your face,” he snapped.
Justus stalked toward me and I nervously bit my lip as all eyes fell on us. The tension was palpable, but no one would stand between a Ghuardian and his Learner.
“I see the guilt formulating in that head of yours,” he said, smacking my forehead lightly with his palm. “They were just cars. Your life holds more value than a piece of machinery.”
Kind words delivered in a harsh tone. A good woman could really soften his hard edges in ways he desperately needed. Justus was a proud and noble man, but too detached from making emotional connections with others. There was so much spirit in him and when he laughed—it was full-bodied and turned heads.
The news about his cars was a mood killer and as this was no formal meeting, I tipped my head to Novis and went outside alone.
The air was clean and crisp, and I measured my pace across the lawn until I reached the twisted tree. The only home I’d known as a Mage had become my security blanket, and now it was ripped away. Justus was the one certainty that I knew would be there for the rest of my life. After all, that was his job. But when I thought about the rift between him and Marco, it left me with doubts.
I sat on the wooden swing and gripped the ropes. Everything was up in the air—my relationship, my home, my identity, and our safety. Because of me, Sunny was in hiding.
The swing suddenly yanked back and I was thrown forward. The wind lifted the soft tendrils of my hair and dashed them over my shoulders as Adam’s strong hands pushed me from behind. I screeched when the ropes jerked unsteadily.
“Woman, you are the biggest fraidy cat I know.”
“Adam, please stop,” I begged.
He eased up but wasn’t about to stop pushing. That would mean facing me and he was wasn’t ready.
“Are you still happy with Novis?”
“He’s a generous Creator, and I’ve been fortunate,” he replied.
“Do you think he’ll release you from his custody? I keep wondering if Justus will ever allow me to be independent. Novis is constantly bragging about you.”
“Is that so?” he mumbled.
I scraped my shoes against the dirt and skidded to a stop. Neither of us spoke and I reached behind me, scrunching my fingers through his brown hair. My hands remembered Adam the way he was as they slid down the stubble along his jaw. The scars looked years old by the way the skin had fused, and I had to remind myself this only happened just recently.
“You need to shave.”
“Maybe I’ll try a beard for a while.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I pointed out.
“I’m too new to understand what it means to be an independent Mage in this world, Silver. Don’t rush; you’ve always been impatient.”
“Happy with Cheri?”
“That’s one woman I don’t deserve.” His voice wasn’t proud as I had expected it to be, but doubtful.
“She’s the lucky one,” I remarked. “We’re going to live a really long time, Adam.” I sensed him moving away from me and I turned my head. “I just want you to remember that I’m always going to be here to kick your ass.” I stood up with my knee perched on the swing, staring at his back. “Do you think a thousand years from now we’ll still be friends and remember this moment? It’s sad to think we may forget about all this.”
Adam pivoted on his heel. “How the hell can you say something like that?”
I froze.
With a pinch of his fingers, a pack of cigarettes appeared from his shirt pocket and he angrily pulled one out, punishing it with his teeth as he plucked a black lighter from a deep pocket in his jeans. “I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life,” he said, pointing to his scars. “And if you ever forget, I’ll be here to remind you.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry.”
“How many people do you think will take a Healer seriously with this face? I had a potential career doing something that mattered.” He sucked on the butt of his smoke twice to get a lungful.
“Since when did you start smoking?”
Adam took another drag and didn’t reply.
“This isn’t you, Adam. Don’t self-destruct.”
“I’ve done some bad shit in my life and God knows if those people were innocent. I was a follower, doing what I was told without blinking. They were all Breed; how’s that for bedtime stories? I thought I could atone by walking away, but it follows me like a shadow. So, what do you really know about me, Silver?”
“That isn’t who you are—it’s who you were. I know you, Adam. Not many people come along in your life and stick their neck out like you did for me. No, maybe I don’t know who you used to be, but that doesn’t matter. Don’t become that man again.”
Adam was reaching what Logan must have faced years ago—a crossroad. It was a turning point, and he was driving in the wrong direction.
He stared at the house with a vacant expression, flicking the cigarette between his fingers.
“Give yourself time. No one expects you to bounce back to your old self after just a few days. I know what you’re going through.” I reached for the cigarette and he switched hands.
“It’s not going to kill me.”
My foot kicked up a plume of dirt. “Well, it’ll give you bad breath.”
He turned his sharp eyes to mine. “Yeah? Who am I going to kiss?”
“How about your girlfriend, for one?” I gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll always be here when you need to talk. I don’t know what else to say; I can’t make it better.”
Adam traced his thumb across his lower lip, buried in his thoughts.
“You have a lot of love to give, and you’re the most loyal man I know. Just give yourself some time and remember that nobody cares if you have
marks on you. We’re all marked in some way.”
“I’m a husk of a man, Silver. I’m dead inside.”
It was a jarring remark because deep down, I knew he was one step away from the edge.
Chapter 19
Logan gazed out of the bedroom window at the dense fog below, crawling up the dark street like a biblical plague. A petite young woman with a stylish black jacket quickened her step along the sidewalk. She jerked her head around when a small object fell from her arms and bounced on the gritty concrete. He couldn’t tell what it was when she snatched it up, but he shook his head, disapproving of how often human women went out unescorted at unsafe hours. In her defense, she couldn’t possibly know she lived in a city full of dangerous immortals. But on the other hand—humans were always dangerous. Her pointy heels clicked along the pavement until the fog swallowed her up.
His eyes hooded when he caught Silver’s scent on his tongue. The sheets were thick with it, and he had no intention of washing them until it was gone.
Logan never used scented soaps and shampoos—that was all Finn. The first time they went to the drugstore, he found Finn sitting on the floor with all the body lotions, applying each one. A Chitah had no interest in perfume because their sense of smell was so acute that it picked up the soft fragrance of a female—the feminine bouquet that was unique with each flower.
Logan was enthralled by Silver’s scent. Beneath the mango shampoo that lingered on his pillow was something much softer. It was her own unique brand… all over his bed.
His forehead tapped against the glass. Caring for Finn required patience and time, something that might cost him or gain points with her in his courtship—there was no way to tell. Now she was locked away and he couldn’t get to her if she needed him.
Logan expunged any thought that she was in danger. Novis would ensure she was safe; he was a Council member, after all.
Silver was capable, fierce, and yet her naivety compelled him to look out for her. That fiery temper was so opposite of his mate from long ago. Katrina was a demure creature with womanly charm and a vivacious laugh. The kind of woman that knew how to use her beauty, and the bounty of her body could have seduced any male. Time had added tough layers to Logan, but he was beginning to feel again. Not just a prickling sensation, but a roaring inferno.
His heavy sigh placed a thin film of condensation over the glass and Logan cocked his head. Drawn on the window was the shape of a small heart.
“I’m all packed. I think.” Finn stumbled in the room and dropped his bag on the floor. “Do you mind if I take the blanket? I kind of like it.”
Logan watched his reflection in the glass. He had the wolf blanket tucked underneath his left arm—neatly folded.
“It’s yours,” Logan said. “This isn’t permanent, Little Wolf, but the only way you’ll bond with us is to switch between homes. Your wolf and I have an understanding: I stay fifteen feet from him, and he doesn’t piss on my chair.”
Finn snorted. “Sorry about that.”
“The chairs were old and it’s time for a change.” Logan touched the center of the heart with his finger, leaving a small dot in the middle. “Your wolf may never trust us because we’re not the same, but it’s imperative that you trust us. We’re family.”
“Straight up?”
“A Chitah is good on his word,” he said, turning around. Logan placed a fist in front of his mouth to keep from laughing. Finn was wearing a pair of Logan’s sneakers. They were so large on his feet that it looked cartoonish.
“What’s going on with that?” Logan pointed.
Finn looked down and tapped one shoe against the other. “Maybe it’s part of being a Shifter; I really don’t know much about my own kind. It feels like… instinct.” He shrugged. “For some reason, I had to take something that smelled like you, and well, these sure smell.”
Logan folded his arms, pushing out his biceps. “You’ll get along well with Lucian; he’ll help you with your education. I think it’s about time that you start impressing people with more than your wood carvings. You have the potential to do great things.”
Finn’s closed-lip smile was the kind that stretched wide as he kept his eyes to the ground. The fact that Finn rarely kept eye contact didn’t set well with Logan. Shifters were a Breed with submissive traits around a dominant male—with the exception of alphas. Something about Finn made him wonder if it was possible he was born an alpha but years of abuse had whipped him into submission. That’s part of the reason that Logan kept a close eye on him—a tethered alpha was an unpredictable and ferocious animal.
“Is Lucian my age?”
“Somewhat,” Logan replied. “By appearance, yes. He’s our younger brother, but in years, he’s about fifty.”
Finn’s eyes widened and swallowed the floor.
“You’ll get along,” Logan reassured him. “He’s smart and you’ll have plenty to talk about. He also likes cartoons.”
That pleased Finn because he used to watch cartoons before his father sold him. Nero’s guards had never allowed it, but when they were drunk enough, Finn would sneak on the Internet and learn what he could about the outside world.
Anger prickled in the pit of Logan’s stomach when he thought about the guard that Silver had seduced for her freedom—one he hunted down and found a month later working as a helper in a greasy diner. It was rewarding to fight him like a man. No use of his gifts, just fist to bone. Diego carried a solid punch, but Logan’s right arm was a demon unleashed, and blood trickled from his knuckles like tears of joy. Logan would have ended his life except for the fact that he might lose his standing with Silver. She didn’t understand his ways and valued life. Maybe she wouldn’t have found out, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Chitah women Logan understood, but he had to be delicate with this Mage.
“Logan?”
He blinked. “Sorry. Say that again?”
“Are we still going to hang out, or is this like an isolation thing?”
Logan crossed the room and ruffled the mop of brown hair on Finn’s head. “Your location is changing, nothing else. Behave yourself and remember that a man should never act as a boy. Lucian has a bad habit of mouthing off when he shouldn’t. He’s smart, but doesn’t always notice when boundaries are crossed. Don’t follow his lead. When you stay with each of us, take the best parts as examples of the kind of man you want to be.”
“Confident.”
Logan furrowed his brow. “That wouldn’t be Lucian.”
“No, you. That’s what I’m taking from you.”
Surprise flickered in Logan’s eyes. He picked up a peppery scent that told him Finn spoke the truth. What really grabbed his attention was the way Finn kept his eyes locked on Logan’s—unflinching. It was so uncharacteristic of him, and yet he held his gaze just as bravely as any Chitah could. Logan wasn’t accustomed to this kind of admiration from a young male who looked up to him. Lucian never aspired to emulate his older brothers, going his own way despite their guidance. He was intelligent, but there was never a sense that he looked up to Logan. Not that he really had any business doing so with the lifestyle that Logan chose.
Here he was, rendered speechless by a single word from a young Shifter wearing a pair of red sneakers twice his size.
Logan cupped his hands firmly on Finn’s shoulders. “When you finish up with a good dose of the Cross brothers, if you’re not ready to go out on your own, then it’s your choice which of us you want to live with. My door is always open, and… I hope you’ll choose me. I’d be honored.”
Finn used his fingers as a comb and scraped his hair over his ears. “You bet. Not sure what kind of job I’ll be able to get, but yeah, that would be cool. You’re all right, Logan. When I first met you, I thought you were kind of a shithead.”
“Get in the damn car,” Logan said with an amused shake of his head. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Finn lifted his bag and nearly tripped as he flopped out the door in those oversized shoes.
Logan lifted the T-shirt from his bed in his fist and drew in a deep breath. He thought about her wispy black hair and how it looked like a storm whenever the wind captured it. She possessed a wildness like he’d never encountered in a woman before.
Logan pulled off the shirt he was wearing and slipped his arms through the red T-shirt. When her fragrance touched his skin, his fangs elongated.
That Mage had no idea how provocative her gaze was—riveting green eyes surrounded by inky lashes. It was a sore subject because they reminded her of Samil; somehow she had acquired some of his striking features during her transformation. Her cheekbones were high and proud. Her mouth, on the other hand, was stubborn. Lips so lush and yielding that he could savor them for an eternity, and when their tongues met, every nerve in his body awakened. He remembered the feel of her in the shower, the smooth contours of her soft breasts, lean torso, and the way her stomach curved in when he stroked his knuckles against it.
Sweet nectar sifted from her pores—a scent that filled him with carnal desire.
In the shower, the smooth line of her legs had drawn him upward into forbidden territory, but he couldn’t resist stroking her just once. She’d gasped, releasing a scent of desire so heady that Logan’s canines punched out and he imagined taking her against the shower wall. It was an erotic impulse that frightened him; he’d never been with another Breed and didn’t know if the same bedroom rules applied. He doubted it.
The thought floated away in the darkened room and Logan looked at the faded heart on the window. A small object on the windowsill caught his eye and he bent down, collecting a wood carving in the shape of a wildcat. Its angular body curved impressively, ready to strike its prey. The teeth were sharp and the eyes were—Logan’s. Finn had carved a cheetah with all the wildness and nobility he saw in Logan.
Down on the street, Finn stood beside the car with his thumbs tucked in his front pockets. He looked up at Logan and waved.
***
