Jace thought a moment before answering. “Yes, not yet.”
“You don’t think Porter’s innocent, do you?”
“He’s likely correct about Seamus, but his priority is not you.” He delivered the statement like a warning and yeah, she’d come to that difficult conclusion, too.
As his mate, it should piss her off, incite raging jealousy, or something other than the conflicted feelings wrestling within her. To make a decision about them, about her future, she needed more information.
“I should talk with him. Where is he?”
“In a cell.” Jace’s tone was anything but apologetic.
“What?” She pushed back from the table, her instinct to rush to her mate.
“We can’t treat him like a guest while we keep Brutus and Cletus locked up.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Maggie, that’s not a good—”
“I know you don’t think so. Think about it. I haven’t spent much time with him. He’s supposed to be my life partner. I really should just get to know him.”
Jace contemplated her request. His eyes, while drilled into the wall, developed a faraway look. “Fine, but we’ll have to lock you in with him.”
“Did you just mentally talk to someone?” she asked in awe. “We can do that without being in shifter form?”
He nodded.
“Duuude.” Her mom! “Have you tried with Ma?”
He nodded once.
Her heart sank. “She’s in trouble.”
“She’s crafty. Don’t give up hope.”
“That’s what Porter said.”
Jace snorted softly. “He’d know her better than me, honestly.”
“You’re right. He grew up under Dad’s reign.” They both fell silent. Maggie had to ask, “Do you remember him? Or Keve?”
“A little. Dad’s eyes were freakier than mine, but he wasn’t cruel. Tough, but not mean. Keve and I were close, but after I saw him covered in blood, a silver blade through his heart, I don’t remember anything else.”
“It’s more than I remember,” she said sadly. “I recall you and Ma arguing about Lobo Springs, but it was still called Great Moon when you left.”
“After high school, I hopped on my bike and headed out to find Great Moon. I came back to ask her if it and Lobo Springs were one and the same.”
“And things went nuclear.”
He frowned. “You weren’t supposed to hear that discussion.”
“A fight like that is hard to hide in a small house.” She drew in a cleansing breath, her blood urging her to leave the cabin and head to the lodge. “Can you take me to Porter now?”
Chapter Eight
Porter stretched out on the tiny cot, hands behind his head. Tired, but too wired to drift off, his mind worked all the angles: the missing Armana, his mate’s lack of enthusiasm regarding him, her brother’s coldness toward her, and Brutus’ claims of murder.
Lost in thought, it wasn’t until his cock twitched that he noticed Maggie’s scent wafting over him. Was it his imagination or did she smell stronger, more shifter-like? Lavender and vanilla and, he inhaled again, moonlight. His mother used to have a lavender bed outside of their house. Porter had kept it going, until his lack of a green thumb killed every plant off. Maggie was like a resurrection of his failure, another chance to save the flowers.
Since he sensed Jace, too, he didn’t sit up. Jace wouldn’t let him see her. The clank of the door’s lock grabbed his attention. Maggie stepped in and the door shut behind her with Jace on the other side looking like a father sending his daughter off with her first date.
He swung his legs over the edge and stood. “What’s wrong?”
“I asked to come talk to you.” She wore a grey and pink tee with snug jeans and brand new shoes. He loved the sex kitten at The Gift Shop look, but casual fit Maggie.
“FYI,” Jace grumbled, “you’re being watched.” He pointed to the cameras in Porter’s cell that left little to no privacy.
Talking was all they’d be doing. His body protested, but he wouldn’t compromise Maggie like that.
“G’night, Jace.” Maggie smiled reassuringly at her brother, who left after a final glare toward Porter.
Porter gestured toward the cot for Maggie to sit. “Everything okay between you and him?”
She settled on top of the blankets, her back against the wall, knees drawn up. “It will be, I think. He doesn’t despise me, more hurt and disappointed. I’m not sure about him and Ma. It’ll take a lot more than one talk. We’ll need time.”
“Any word on your mom?”
“He and Kaitlyn are heading out to look for her now.”
“Good.” He seated himself next to her. Close, but not enough to make his brain short out and turn him into a voyeur. “What’d you want to talk to me about?”
“Stuff.”
He pulled a knee up to drape his arm over so he could angle himself toward her. Lavender and vanilla tickled his nose. Fading sunlight from the tiny window close to the ceiling cast her face in shadows, her strong features mysterious, ethereal.
Again, he marveled over what a lucky bastard he was. He’d found his mate, she happened to be the trump card for him, and she was fucking gorgeous.
“Like what?” he prompted.
“Ummm…what’s your favorite color?”
What?
She saw the look on his face and burst out laughing. “This is called ‘getting to know each other.’ Don’t shifters do that?”
“Not really. If we want to have sex, we do it, but we know that it’s only temporary. Everything is saved for our mates, and even then…well, we’re mates.” So why bother?
She didn’t seem pleased with his answer, and damn if that didn’t distress him.
“Wood.”
She glanced at him in surprise.
“My favorite color,” he explained. “Wood. It’s easy on the eyes. Not too bright, not too plain. Depending on the type, the hue can vary, but it’s all a shade of brown. I love the smell more, especially freshly cut lumber. Speaking of smell, I built a deck for some family friends out of cedar. There’s nothing like the smell of cedar. I’m planning on building myself a deck out of cedar one day.”
“I’ve never smelled cedar,” Maggie admitted, like she didn’t think it was a confession she’d ever be making. “My favorite color is purple. A lighter purple, but not too light.”
Porter lips twitched. “Like lavender.”
She swatted his leg with approval. “Exactly.”
Grabbing her hand, feeling only brief resistance from her, he twined his fingers through hers and laid them on his leg.
“Favorite movie?” she asked, her voice dropping an octave. He wasn’t the only one suffering from restraint.
“I don’t watch TV.”
“Get the fuck out!”
“I don’t own one.”
Her eyes grew wide. Is this what she experienced every time she revealed her incomprehension of shifter ways to him? Because it was a little unnerving.
“I was so sheltered, I don’t how I would’ve survived without it. Even when we couldn’t afford cable, we got the basic channels. That crosses the next few questions off. Hobbies?”
“Wood.”
“You got a thing for it, huh?”
“It’s my ability.” And she wouldn’t know about any of that, either. “We all have a special talent. It’s mentally originated, not like a super power. Mine is woodworking. It’s why Seamus wouldn’t allow me near the job sites he sabotaged. I’d know exactly what happened.”
“I have an ability?”
He caressed her hand with his thumb. “Yes, but it may take time to develop while you hone your shifter skills.”
They fell quiet. She scooted closer to him, until her head lay on his shoulder. He continued stroking her hand, relaxing them both, yet working each of them up until arousal clogged the room.
Maggie cleared her throat, attempting to sound normal. “What was
your childhood like? Or, your whole life before the attack?”
“It was…normal.” He wanted to say a normal shifter life, but she wouldn’t have any comparison. “We ran wild, went to school, ran the woods on two legs until we transitioned, then we tore through them on four. We were taught about the world, how we need to hide. Back then the colony wasn’t well off financially, but we had all we needed.”
Until Seamus had taken over. Everything Seamus did was a show and he maintained all the control. They were becoming more isolated and more dependent on their leader.
“Your sister, how old was she?”
A cherubic face drenched in drool haunted Porter’s dreams. There was a catch in his voice when he said, “She was ten months old.”
Maggie squeezed his hand, snuggling in closer. Her warmth filled up the cold empty place his loved ones’ deaths left behind. “What was her name?”
“Angie.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” He dropped a kiss on her head. She rocked into him, the hard wall at their backs. He didn’t want their conversation to keep careening into the depressing. “We’d be more comfortable if we stretched out.”
She raised her head. “I should go.”
“Where?”
Blinking, she frowned. “I don’t know.”
Tipping her chin up, he whispered, “Stay with me.” Her eyes flicked toward a camera. “I promise I won’t give them a show. Jace is searching for your mom, we aren’t allowed to help with anything else, but we can rest up for what tomorrow brings.”
She gazed deeply into his eyes, her blue irises glinting in the darkness. “I’ll stay.”
Stretching them out, he wrestled the blanket over them. It wasn’t cold, their heat would’ve been enough, but just in case his hands rested…somewhere personal…no one needed to see.
She cuddled into him, and when she looked up say goodnight, he caught her mouth. And groaned. His lips on hers. That’s all it was. Her taste had grown stronger, more intoxicating. He didn’t have to coax her mouth open, she opened eagerly seeking more contact.
He wanted to plunder her mouth, strip her down under their threadbare covers, release himself to push inside.
But he wouldn’t.
She came to him tonight to get to know him. So he’d keep skin-on-skin contact above the neckline, preserve their make-out session to nothing past first base.
Maybe a little groping.
Cradling her head to him with one arm, he used the other to hug her closer. The sweatpants he wore were fortunate for his erection, but his manhood still ached painfully. He resisted rocking his hips into her lest he lose his ever-loving mind in her delicious curves.
Her hand crept down between them, going right for ground zero. Porter snatched it into his and held it close to his chest.
She broke the kiss, her expression confused.
“I want tonight to be about you and me, but it’s you, me, and the cameras. If you touch me anywhere near my pelvis, I’m afraid I’ll go wild.”
The slight twist of her lips revealed her feminine satisfaction of the power she held over him.
Two could play that game.
Deepening the kiss, he swiped his tongue sensually across hers, caressing the sensitive surface, stroking it in the same way he’d lick her center. She stilled, the only movement her hand tightening around his and her tongue meeting each caress. Her body melted completely into him. He wouldn’t able to tell where he stopped and she started except his cock made it clear there was a boundary it could not cross.
A slight rocking of her hips drained his best intentions. Frantically, he mentally defeated every reason he had for not tearing their clothes off.
Maggie pulled away with a gasp, her body shuddering faintly within his arms. “If we keep this up, I’m going to implode. Or get myself off if you won’t.”
He groaned at the lust that shot through his body, making his balls cobalt blue. “I’ll keep doing it so I can watch.”
She giggled, burrowing into him, tucking her head under his chin. “We should get some sleep.”
“It’ll be so easy with all my blood pooled in one area.”
Her legs scissored together, small back and forth movements causing her body to wiggle tantalizingly. “You’re not the only one uncomfortable.”
His turn for a satisfied grin. “Let’s talk. Discussing The Gift Shop is out of the question. I don’t need those images in my head. How about why you work with kids?”
Her lashes fluttered against his neck, not expecting the subject change. “Ma’s influence, like always. A work environment that shouldn’t put me in harm’s way; daycares aren’t frequented by supernaturals. Deeper into the human world I went.”
“Did you like it?”
She rolled a shoulder. “Yes and no. Kids are a blast, but I felt like I had too much energy. It made me popular with the parents—I ran the shit outta their kids.” He chuckled, but she grew quiet, pensive.
“Talk to me Maggie.”
“It just hit me how glad I am to be done with all that. No matter what happens, I won’t have to go back to appeasing Ma and trying to ignore that I’m different. I can finally be me. Here I am, cuddled inside, glad I don’t have to sneak around anymore, while she might be in danger.”
He stroked her back, seeking to comfort his mate. “It’s all right to feel that way, Maggie. You can be relieved, you can be pissed at her—it doesn’t change how much she means to you.”
He must’ve brought some degree of comfort to her because she relaxed further beside him, as if some weight had lifted. But he knew some guilt remained and she changed the subject. “Now you tell me, why carpentry? Because it’s your ability?”
“Most definitely. My dad had the same talent. In a poor colony, surrounded by woods, we were in high demand because we could find all we needed around us and make it into anything. The repairs around town alone would’ve made us popular. It was crucial the residents not have to buy new every time a piece of furniture busted, or a hormone-raged teen punched a hole in the wall.”
“What was your mother’s talent?”
Porter turned onto his back, pulling Maggie into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. “Plants. Not terribly useful in a community of meat eaters, but she grew the most beautiful flowers.”
They lay, encompassed in their private shell of warmth.
“I wish I knew my dad,” she said faintly. “And Keve.”
He had no reply. He yearned to know his baby sister, witness the female she would’ve grown up to be. They were gone. Instead of words, he dropped a kiss on top of her head, and they remained quiet until they both drifted off to sleep.
***
Armana sat in her car, pulled off into a desolate stretch of road, darkness covering her location. She had no idea where the Guardian headquarters was and it didn’t matter. Plans had changed. She’d hidden long enough. Jace was a Guardian, and Mage was grown with a worthy shifter male by her side. More than she could have ever hoped after that late night fleeing with two small children.
Seamus was a dirty bastard. A despicable, cold-hearted, power-obsessed male. Her mate’s body hadn’t yet cooled when Seamus had shown up. A Cheshire grin on his face, he’d stood over her sleeping children.
“You’ll mate with me and I will rule,” he’d said.
She’d replied with a more vulgar version of “no thank you.”
His eyes had flicked down to the bed. “They weren’t supposed to survive. You’re a more formidable fighter than I expected. Be warned, if you resist me, there’s always another way.” His eyes slid to the small form of Mage.
His meaning had dawned on Armana. Her body went cold, time-slowed, and she studied the diabolical male in front of her. Seamus had risen to clan leader, often clashing with her mate on how to rule. Their colony was poor, Bane meticulously worked to increase prosperity, incorporate technology, prepare the clans that made up Great Moon for the twenty-first century. It wasn’t that Se
amus had disagreed, he’d just wanted monopoly over the other clan leaders. Bane hadn’t trusted him and neither had Armana.
After that night, her fear of him had been her motivation. She was terrified she’d lose her surviving children. Seamus’ brand of evil—she couldn’t compete with. Sigma agents had attacked Great Moon, tearing through families, until they were driven back, and it had all been due to Seamus’ manipulations. The scenario spelled out more trouble than she could comprehend. Seamus had made a deal with the biggest enemy her people had ever faced. Not just their centuries-long grudge with vampires, these were the most nefarious of even them.
So she’d fled and dealt with the cowardly guilt ever since. At the time, she didn’t know how she’d survive each night. She’d wanted to lay down with her mate, tear her own heart out performing rites for her oldest boy, but she had Jace and Mage. Seamus’ late night visit completed her reason for living.
If she could’ve escaped across the country, she would’ve. But she’d only been able to make it to Freemont. Not ideal as it was the closest city to Great Moon, but it was populated enough that they got lost within its limits. The women’s shelter accepted them, helped her find work. She saved enough money to pay for fake documents for all of them from a contact she’d heard Bane refer to frequently. And she’d cut ties completely with her people, shedding her scent and absorbing the human aroma that accompanied her lack of shifting and living in an urban area.
Should she have done things differently? Probably. Attacked Seamus as he stood there with that mocking grin on his face. Yelled for help. Gone to the other clan leaders and reported him. Found sanctuary with the Guardians.
As much as she questioned her actions, she had to remember there was a significant con for each one. She was strong, Seamus more so. Each family in the colony was lost in their own grief; help may not have answered her cries. Seamus had proven his influence was far reaching. No telling how much he corrupted those who lived close by. As for locating the Guardians, she’d barely made it to the city. Finding their quasi-hidden location proved too much for her and Seamus would know she’d left by then and taken measures to prevent her from locating them.
Birthright (Pale Moonlight Book 1) Page 10
