Deane flinched. “Wouldn’t ye be more comfortable talking with Aerilyn about this?”
Emery bit off a piece of bacon with her mouth and said, mid-chew, “She’s been busy decorating the lodge for the holidays with Jax’s help.”
That was right. He’d been so focused on the blood-suckers, he’d forgotten Christmas was coming, and soon. He glanced over his shoulder at Riley sitting on the couch and wondered what traditions the boy and his mother used to have during this time of year. He shrugged and mashed his toast into the yolk of his egg.
“So anyway, these chicks had to have had plastic surgery. Their boobs were like, enormous.” Emery held out her hands from her body, elaborating the size, then put the rest of the bacon in her mouth. “I must say, the people-watching here is top-notch. Grade-A.”
Snickers from the other side of the lobby caught Deane’s ear. He turned around just in time to see a young man pass Riley sitting on the couch.
“Did you order a drink?” The young man unsuccessfully hid the smile on his lips. He was carrying a glass of something dark and stumbled haphazardly, pouring the contents over Riley’s shoulder.
Riley bolted to his feet with raised arms and a look of surprise in his eyes. He blinked at the red streaks dribbling down his shirt. The lad lifted his face enough for Deane to notice that beneath his lips, his canines had elongated, displaying pointed fangs.
The youngling shifter shoved Riley. “I knew you were different—freak.”
Riley covered his mouth with his hand and stared at the other boy in shame. The youngling laughed at his response and moved in on him, raising his fist. Riley took the blow across his jaw and did nothing to protect himself.
Before Deane could react, someone from the other side of the lounge ran over to the boys. A girl who stood chest-high to the youngling grabbed his forearm, preventing him from throwing another punch. “Stop it, Tait! No!”
Riley was cradling his chin with his hand, blinking in stunned silence at the long-haired girl hanging from his attacker’s arm.
Deane got to his feet and rushed to stand between Tait and Riley. Deane narrowed his eyes at the youngling shifter and pressed his pointer finger into his chest. “Ye best back off, ye bleedin’ tick.”
Tait swallowed and eased his fighting stance as he took in Deane’s size and agitation. The girl let go of the youngling shifter and swept her black hair from her scowling face.
Deane was beyond annoyed. It seemed like a deficiency with these young punks that they were always looking for a fight to prove themselves. He’d been the same way, and he was the first to admit what a complete fool he’d been as a lad. He didn’t have time for this—he needed to leave for TailGators.
He looked over his shoulder at Riley, standing there like a punching bag. “And what the hell’s wrong with ye, not standin’ up for yerself against this gobshite?”
Riley’s face contorted into pure misery, and he brushed past Deane to sweep upstairs in a hurry.
The girl scowled at Deane. He realized she wasn’t as young as he’d first assumed based off her tiny frame. The teen shook her head and muttered, “Nice, blame the victim.”
Deane couldn’t believe he was getting flak from a kid. He looked for support from his partner and found Emery wincing back at him from the bar. Whatever. He literally didn’t have the time for this.
Deane impatiently grabbed the emptied glass from the bully and sniffed its contents. It had a metallic aroma. Blood. “What kind of tricks are ye up to, mate?”
“He’s a freak,” the boy said with a smirk, looking over his shoulder to share a laugh with the blond girl at the other side of the room.
“I guess it was an accident ye put blood in a glass instead of fruit punch?” Deane grabbed hold of the boy’s T-shirt and pulled him close. The youngling drained of color as he realized the gravity of the situation. Deane let go of him and clamped his hands down on his shoulders, containing his anger and choosing the direction to take the situation. “Ye just harassed a lad I swore to protect. That sounds like a bit of a problem for ye. I’ve had a century to practice torture techniques, and I’d really like the opportunity to try out a new one. I call it the cork. So if I ever see ye even looking sideways at Riley again, you’ll be on probation, and you’ll flinch every time ye see a bottle.”
He caught Emery’s eye, who grinned back, picking up on the fact he was trying to scare the kid straight.
She crossed her arms. “Remember that one move—that guy always walked with a limp after that.”
Deane shuddered, putting on a show. “Aye, even I admit that was too much.”
Georgina and Beck came into the lobby. Georgina’s eyes widened as she noticed the bloody mess on the couch and floor. She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh Jesus, what happened?”
The youngling tried to back away, but Deane held onto his shirt. Georgina’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Tait?”
“Uh.” The youngling kept his eyes to the ground.
Deane stared at Tait. “He thought it would be fun to spill some blood on Riley and rough him up a little.”
The boy explained to Georgina, “I’m sorry, but he’s just not one of us.”
Georgina blinked at the ceiling and prayed under her breath. “You are so lucky I’m not your guardian. I would string you up by your toes.”
Beck walked up to Tait and raised his brow at him. “Why don’t you and I look for some towels and a bucket of soapy water? Looks like you have a couch and rug to clean.”
Georgina watched them go and clicked her tongue. “These younglings try my patience. Where’s Riley? Is he okay?”
Deane wasn’t used to talking to teens. They were annoyingly sensitive. Though he was confident getting picked on was the last thing Riley needed, Deane realized his response may not have helped the situation. “He’s upstairs. I should go check on him.”
Georgina sighed. “Just say the word, and I’ll frighten some sense into the imbécil, Tait.”
“Oh, I think he already did that.” Emery joined their conversation and patted Deane’s shoulder. “That was priceless—‘the cork’? How’d you come up with that?”
The Miami enforcer was trying to understand what they were talking about; her frown made it plain. Deane pointed toward the marble bar at a corked bottle of wine and explained, “An empty threat was made, that’s all.”
Emery giggled. “But the kid doesn’t know that.”
Georgina put her hand on her hip and leaned forward. “My trade secret is starting with a quick slap to the head, and while their ears are still ringing, you tell them all the ways you’re going to make their life miserable for the pain and anguish they caused. Younglings thinking they’re all that when they haven’t lived long enough to pay their dues.”
Although the Miami enforcer wasn’t as sturdy as Emery, he didn’t doubt the woman was fierce in battle. She was tough and clearly had no patience for Tait making trouble. At least she wasn’t angry at him for his reaction. That would have been the last thing they needed—angry hosts.
Georgina let out a hiss of air before calling over the young woman who’d been listening to their conversation in silence. “Marisol, come here.”
The long-haired girl came over slowly with her arms crossed. “Yes, prima?”
“Did you have anything to do with this?” Georgina placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and waited expectantly.
“This half-pint jumped in to try to stop Tait,” Emery said in approval.
The small-framed young woman turned her sorrowful eyes to Deane. He was surprised by Marisol’s courage as she caught his gaze. “I knew Tait and Denise were up to something, but I had no idea what they were hiding. Think he’ll be okay?”
Marisol glanced over her shoulder at the stairs where Riley had disappeared. Her lips were twisted down, and her brown eyes were filled with worry.
Deane crossed his arms and leveled with her. “He’s a good lad who’s been through hell recently and could use a friend
. Especially now.”
She nodded and lowered her eyes.
Georgina tisked and threw her hands in the air as she faced Denise at the other end of the room. “These younglings are going to be the death of me! Where’s your guardian? You have a story to tell him.”
Deane noticed the clock on the wall and swore. “I need to get going, or I’ll be late for work.” He looked at Emery and started for the stairwell. “I’m going to check on him, but will ye keep a close eye on him today, and let me know if ye need me?”
“Of course.” She nodded and moved aside for Beck and Tait, who’d arrived with the towels and soapy water.
Deane hurried upstairs to Riley’s closed door and knocked. “Hey, kid? Ye in there?”
He thought he heard sniffing sounds and leaned closer. “There will always be bastards, trying to push ye down. Ye gotta rise above it all, aye?”
There was no answer.
Deane put his hands on either side of the door. “Emery will be here if ye need anything. She’ll look after ye while I’m gone today. Look—” he paused, “I’m sorry it happened. That boy’s a right prick. He’s not the first, and he won’t be the last ye’ll meet. Don’t let him get ye down. Ye’re a good kid, ye hear?”
He was torn. Riley clearly needed his mother and a loving touch to help him through this, and all he had was Deane, an ill-practiced parent who was better suited for thinking about himself. He was already running late for work and had a job to do. If he was going to help keep Riley safe from the real threats out there, he needed to find out just how dangerous the other blood-suckers really were.
Deane pushed away from the doorframe and sighed. He took each step heavily, feeling guiltier the farther he distanced himself from Riley, but it had to be done.
Emery walked up to him in the lobby with raised brows. He shook his head. “He won’t answer. Keep a close eye on him, will ye?”
She patted his shoulder and started up the steps. “Sure will. I’ll do my best.”
He started his commute to Cutler Bay, thinking about Riley the whole time. Maybe he’d been foolish to think he could care for the boy. Aerilyn clearly had her doubts he could do it. He’d seen the look on her face when she spoke to him about it, but he’d been so sure that it was the right thing for him to do. He’d promised Marilyn he’d look after Riley. But maybe he had no place being anyone’s father.
He pulled into the gravel drive and parked near the house to give room for paying customers. Today was a performance day for Julian. He was doing another demonstration and would be wrestling one of his gators. Deane hoped he wasn’t too late to help him prepare.
He locked his car and jogged across the lot to the entrance. He could hear the audience murmuring and hurried through until he got to the performance moat. Deane adjusted the TailGator shirt Julian had given him. It was a button-up short-sleeve and a bit too small for Deane’s liking. His biceps and pecs were restrained in the uniform, but Julian had said that was part of the appeal and had flexed his own muscles. It was all part of the show, he’d explained with a smile.
Deane didn’t see Julian in the moat yet, but Sobek was submerged in the water, waiting for her time in the limelight. Deane explored beyond the performance area to look for Julian and found him closing the gate to the rear gator enclosure.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Boss. I… it’s a long story,” he muttered hastily.
Julian walked up to him and touched his arm. “You’re here now, so that’s all that matters. You ready to watch the show?”
“Aye.” Deane breathed out and turned to look at the audience across the lawn and through the vegetation.
Julian grinned and hurried to the cement barrier of the moat. He raised his hand to the modest-sized crowd. “Hello, folks! Hope you’re ready for a good show!”
Deane went to stand at the edge of the seating and watched Julian perform for his visitors. The guy certainly liked being the center of attention. He flirted with the audience and winked at men and women alike. Even so, Deane had noticed the way Julian’s eyes lingered on his body when he was working and suspected he wasn’t attracted to the opposite sex.
During his time there, Deane hadn’t discovered any new information about the blood-suckers. He’d tried to drum up conversations about Julian’s father and where specifically in California they were headed, but Julian would change the subject or shut down entirely. Deane was feeling the clock ticking away, for he knew the brother and sister were preparing to leave and soon, which would bring another problem. The gators would need a proper caretaker. Deane’s presence there was just as temporary as Julian and Verity’s situation.
Throughout the show, Deane noticed Julian grinning at a man in the audience. Deane had to give it to him—the guy belonged on the cover of a bodice ripper. Long wavy brown hair, broad and tall. The man appeared to be returning Julian’s attention by leaning forward in his seat and raising his eyebrows with a little smirk. So Deane wasn’t surprised that when Julian’s pageantry had concluded, the man went to talk to Julian.
Deane did his best to answer visitors’ questions while the two spoke, and when the crowd had dispersed, Julian called over to him, “I’m going to show Piers around.”
Deane nodded and watched them walk across the lawn. Julian was gesturing toward the gator enclosure and talking animatedly. Deane hurried to The Gator Shack to sell a few stuffed animals to a large family with excited children. When he’d finished, he craned his neck to scan the property for Julian and couldn’t find him, so he went to check on Sobek.
The gator was sunning herself on the sandy center island of the moat. Her eyes were open, and her jaw was resting on the ground. She appeared to be watching a bird that had rested on the top of a nearby fence. Deane leaned on the cement barrier and clasped his hands together to watch her. The soft sound of birdsong filled the afternoon air. It was mixed with something else. An elevated voice?
Deane cocked his head in the direction it had come from and thought he heard it again. He straightened up and walked onto the lawn. His gaze fell on the control shed as he continued to move across the property. Nearing its exterior, he slowed to listen carefully, prepared to walk away if he was interrupting a private moment.
“I know what you are,” a man accused.
Deane recognized Julian’s voice answer in return, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Was this going to turn into an uncomfortable situation? Had Julian made an unwelcome pass to his guest? Deane stuck around in case things got heated and Julian needed a hand.
“Lycos is your sire, true?”
This wasn’t the first time Deane had heard that name. He recalled hearing the blood-sucker Marika mention Lycos to Ramsay up in the cabin. He moved closer to hear better, his curiosity intensifying.
Julian sputtered and there was a loud thump and the outer walls of the shack rattled.
The man’s ascorbic voice demanded, “Who is Lycos’s sire? I must know. Tell me!”
The walls of the shed reverberated, and a choking sound filled the air. Gasping breaths were interspersed with coughs. “I don’t know.”
“The Earth should be cleansed of your kind.”
Deane didn’t know who this man was, but he couldn’t stand by and just let him beat on Julian like a punching bag. Despite the fact that Julian was a blood-sucker, he’d grown to like him. Deane threw caution to the wind and hurried around the building to the open entry.
Piers had his hands around Julian’s neck and was pressing him against the wall. Julian’s eyes were bulging, and his mouth gaped for air. Deane coiled his fist back and threw a punch, landing it across Julian’s attacker’s jaw. The guest’s head rocked back and to the side. His grip loosened enough for Julian to gasp a lungful of oxygen.
“I don’t know what ye want with him, but let him go.” Deane shook out the pain in his fist so he could grab the attacker’s shoulders and push him away from Julian. A strangely fresh smell filled his nose, like mint gum.
<
br /> Piers focused on Deane instead of the blood-sucker. The man’s green eyes narrowed, and he spit at their feet. “Neither of you should be allowed to live. Nasty half-bloods.”
Deane shoved him out the doorway and onto the lawn. He felt the man’s strength beneath his fingertips. Piers was letting himself be moved by Deane, something that left him unsettled. He blocked Julian from view and pointed toward the exit. “Let’s discuss it another day, shall we, mate? For now, why don’t ye take yer opinions elsewhere.”
He stepped outside to encourage the man to move. Piers glared at him and looked beyond his shoulder at Julian, who was still gasping and had bent over to clutch his knees. The long-haired pretty boy backed away and shook his head. He started walking across the lawn toward the moated performance ring when Deane saw another man walk toward him. The new arrival had long blond hair, and he didn’t seem very pleased with Piers. Deane thought he saw pale markings on the blond’s neck, but he couldn’t be sure. The man glanced at Deane before quickly leading Piers away.
Deane watched them walk out of sight. The sounds of Julian’s coughing and deep breathing took his notice, and he turned around to look at him. “Ye all right, Boss?”
Julian nodded, though Deane didn’t believe him. Julian’s cheeks flushed, and the veins in his throat were bulging.
“Ye want to lie down at the house?” Deane asked. “I can look after things out here.”
“Thanks,” Julian sputtered and exited the control shed. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Deane walked beside him all the way. Julian gripped the stair rail of the front porch and paused. Deane brushed past him to hold the door open as the injured blood-sucker entered. Julian unlatched the gate at the base of the stairs to the second floor and ascended out of sight. Verity came out of her exam room, wearing her alligator scrubs and a confused expression.
“He, uh, had a wee run-in with a fella who took hold of his neck,” Deane explained and pointed upstairs. “I told him to have a lie-down to recover.”
Half-Blood Secrets: A Paranormal Series (Half-Bloods Book 2) Page 7
