Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3)

by J. D. Brown

  The French vampire put her hands on her hips and met Maria’s eyes with a challenging glare of her own. “Well, is he going to be okay?”

  “Quite fine,” Maria volleyed.

  This was getting weird. Like white-elephant-in-the-room weird.

  “Who shot him?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a thunderous crash, followed by a dozen male voices shouting over each other.

  “Unhand me!” demanded a voice from the hall. “This is treason. This is grounds for war.”

  “Shut your petty threats,” Nikolas growled. “You are in my territory. Your rights are void.”

  “Naamah, you traitor! Demand that they unhand me at once, or I will have you replaced!”

  “My goodness,” Bridget gasped. “Is that Prince Jalmari?”

  I rolled my eyes. “The one and only. He shot Jesu and then tried to rip my head off.”

  Bridget wrinkled her nose. “Why on earth would Prince Jalmari shoot his own brother?”

  Is she serious? I didn’t have time for this. The men’s voices grew fainter as they receded further into the hall toward Nikolas’ office. I faced Maria. “Hey, can you—”

  “Stay with Jesu while you go investigate? Yes.”

  Huh, how did she know what I was going say? “Thank you.”

  I glanced at Jesu one last time, committing his sleeping form to memory. Walking away from him sucked, especially since Bridget happily sauntered over and took my place. I wanted to be the one to watch over him. I wanted to be the first person he saw when his eyes opened, to be the one he hugged in relief. But I needed to know what Jalmari was up to—besides trying to kill me, of course.

  I ducked out of the infirmary and rushed to the other end of the hall, past the ballroom entrance, to Nikolas’ office. The king’s voice boomed from the other side of the closed solid-wood door, but I couldn’t understand his native tongue. I rapped my knuckles against the surface out of courtesy, and then phased into the room. Animal heads mounted the walls of the rectangular office—everything from lions and tigers, to bears and wolves. Their furs carpeted the floor and the leather hides upholstered the king’s giant armchair.

  Nikolas stood behind his desk; his hands shoulder-width apart against the polished wooden top, leaning forward in an intimidating stance. Tancred, Nikolas’ Second-in-Command, stood next to his king. Jalmari sat across from them, his arms cuffed behind his back. He slouched, probably to avoid putting pressure on his wrists, since Jalmari never had bad posture. Armed soldiers stood at Jalmari’s sides, watching him relentlessly. Naamah, Jalmari’s Second-in-Command, sat next to him, biting the inside of his cheek. The four men glanced at me with mixed levels of annoyance and curiosity. I didn’t blame them. I was the common denominator in this riff, after all.

  I cleared my throat and lifted my chin in Nikolas’ direction. “I’d like to listen in, Your Highness.”

  Jalmari scoffed.

  Nikolas narrowed his gaze at the prince. “Have a seat, Miss Ema.”

  I went to a small wooden chair against the wall and sat.

  Nikolas rubbed an alabaster palm across his dark brow. His lids hooded his golden irises as he dragged his fingers over the top of his dark hair and then smoothed them down the loose braid at the nape of his neck. The seams of his shirt threatened to rip from biceps thicker than three trunks. Nikolas was handsome in a wild Tarzan way—if Tarzan had a melanoma issue and was extremely pale. Nikolas lowered into his armchair, signaling the start of the interrogation.

  “Where have you been, Prince Jalmari?”

  Jalmari’s mouth thinned into a tight line. He glanced to the side and focused on a blank spot on the wall.

  “Are you aware of the events that took place in your absence?” Nikolas continued. “Are you aware of your father’s return?”

  Jalmari remained silent.

  Naamah answered for him. “He is, Your Highness.”

  Nikolas nodded, but the lines wrinkling his forehead spoke of his irritation. “Are you aware that he murdered half of your clan’s Council members?”

  Jalmari’s gaze flickered—a quick flash that lasted less than a microsecond before he hid behind the hardness of his I-don’t-give-a-shit mask, but, if I could catch his slip from across the room, then so could Nikolas and the others.

  “What are your plans regarding your father?” Nikolas asked.

  Silence.

  “Very well. Perhaps you can tell me why you attacked your brother and Miss Ema?”

  I held my breath in anticipation of Jalmari’s answer. The muscles in his jaw visibly tensed, but he still didn’t speak. I groaned and slumped back in my seat. Figures. Jalmari had to be the most stubborn man I’d ever met.

  “My Liege,” Naamah whispered. “It is imperative that you answer King Nikolas’ questions.”

  After a long moment, Jalmari slowly turned his head. His dark emerald gaze locked with mine. A vein lifted from his temple and his nostrils flared. Loathing wafted from every pore on his body, filling the room with a rancid predatory stench.

  My hands curled into fists. Why did he hate me so much? What have I ever done to him? Not that I wouldn’t enjoy kicking his ass a second time, but he started it.

  “I’m aware of the warrant you issued for Ema’s arrest,” Nikolas said, watching the exchange of dirty looks between Jalmari and me. I faltered at the mention of the warrant. I’d completely forgotten about it. “You know the laws,” Nikolas continued. “Such orders do not carry over to other territories. You have no right to act upon your sentencing in my jurisdiction.”

  That did it. Jalmari’s upper lip curled back to show his fangs. The sharpness in his tone rivaled the blades he’d sliced my neck with. “I was not acting as an executioner. I am here as an Elite. That thing you are housing is a Romani.”

  Uh-oh. I had promised Jesu I wouldn’t tell anyone about my heritage since vampyres didn’t take too kindly to gypsy folk. Their people tended to assassinate my people, because we were so threatening with our covered wagons and tarot cards and average life spans. I suspected Nikolas knew there was something very different about me, but he never pried, so I didn’t confirm it. Nikolas and I were on a need-to-know basis.

  Until now.

  Nikolas furrowed his brow. “Do not insult me with blatant lies.”

  “It is not a lie.” Jalmari kept his wicked gaze locked with mine. “Her mother is a product of my father’s human cast-offs. She is an abomination.”

  “Impossible.” Tancred shook his head. “She is clearly a vampyre.”

  “Check the archives,” Jalmari challenged. “You are the ones breeching the law. Not me.” A sly smile twisted his mouth and mirth filled his gaze.

  I panicked. “There’s no need to check anything. I’m an honest person. If you want to know my history, I’ll tell you about it.”

  Nikolas raised a hand to dismiss the idea. “That is quite enough.”

  Jalmari snarled. “She is a lawless killer. She murdered my Leena.”

  “No!” I stood, feeling the blood rush to my face. Jalmari could hate me for a million stupid reasons if he wanted to, but he couldn’t blame me for Leena’s death. “I didn’t kill her. It was Apollyon.”

  “Are you calling me liar?” Jalmari growled.

  “If the shoe fits.”

  Nikolas leaped from his seat, knocking his chair back. “Enough, both of you!”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and sat down. Humph.

  Jalmari gnashed his teeth together and slumped lower in his seat.

  The Aplan king sighed and then reclaimed his armchair. He addressed Jalmari again, his tone much calmer. “We plan to abolish your father before he can cause any more harm. I’m sure you understand my reasons, and it is my hope that you will join forces with us. However, since he is your blood, I understand if you chose to deal with him in your own way.” Nikolas paused to gauge Jalmari’s reaction. Jalmari simply stared into space and scowled. “Do you have any useful information to
share, Prince Jalmari?”

  No answer.

  Nikolas sighed. “You should know that Ema’s well-being is protected under the command of the Aplan crown. If you ever attempt to harm her, or set foot on my territory in bad faith again, I will have you arrested and held as a prisoner of war—and mark my words, Jalmari, a war is coming. You should think about your part in it.”

  Jalmari tensed, but remained silent.

  Nikolas nodded to the soldiers. “Do not uncuff him until you reach the border.”

  The men saluted their king and then grabbed Jalmari’s shoulders and lifted him to his feet.

  “Wait.” I stood. “That’s it? You’re just going to let him go?” Jalmari needed to be locked in a padded cell. Maybe even incapacitated for good measure.

  “He has his own people to answer to.” Nikolas waved a hand and the soldiers pulled Jalmari toward the door.

  Jalmari dug in his heels and looked over his shoulder. “I demand a word with my Hand!”

  “I’ll go,” Naamah said before Nikolas could object. “I’ll see him to the border.”

  Nikolas nodded.

  My jaw fell open and I stared as Naamah rushed after his prince. I couldn’t believe Nikolas would just let him go. Jalmari would be back to finish what he started as sure as snow in January in Alaska. And what was up with Naamah leaving? I just got him and Maria back from Apollyon.

  “You two,” Nikolas said after the door closed behind Naamah. It took a moment to realize he was speaking to Tancred and me. The bossy beef-head that often trailed Nikolas like a shadow had been uncharacteristically silent during the interrogation. We faced Nikolas and waited for him to continue. The king narrowed his gaze and looked us both in the eyes. “Jalmari never said anything about Ema being a Romani. That part of the conversation never happened, understood?”

  Tancred looked a bit constipated, but he affirmed with a nod.

  Holy cow, am I actually off the hook? Just like that? We hadn’t even notarized the contract yet. Nikolas’ son, Brinnon, was still finalizing the details. Of course, I knew why Nikolas let me off the hook. The king wasn’t just being a good Samaritan helping out a damsel in distress. He really believed I was the key to winning the fight against Apollyon. Nikolas was responsible for an entire continent worth of vampyres, and I was supposed to be a sure thing. A guaranteed end to Apollyon’s second coming. Nikolas expected me to act on my end of the deal sooner rather than later.

  Only, there was no real guarantee, and that bitch, Karma, hated my guts. Not to mention, I was possibly kind of pregnant. Kicking ass couldn’t be good for the baby. I immediately decided Nikolas didn’t need to know any of that. He only needed to keep believing in Jesu’s premonition that I would fight Apollyon. I nodded my appreciation to the Alpan king and then left.

  Wow, I thought while walking back to the infirmary. Baby. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the notion of being somebody’s mother.

  Chapter 3

  I entered the infirmary to find Jesu sitting up, talking to Maria. Relief came anew, expanding my lungs with a liberating breath. Jesu noticed me and his words trailed off. His adorable smile teetered to the left, dimpling his cheek.

  “Ema.”

  I ran to him. My arms went around his neck before he could finish saying my name. It rolled off his Finnish-accented tongue in a whisper of liquid silk. His breath pooled against my temple as his strong arms wrapped my waist.

  “Are you okay?” I said into his shirt, my face pressed against his chest. I inhaled his scent—like freshly cut grass in the spring—and found myself instantly comforted. “Do you need anything?”

  He chuckled and smoothed a hand down the length of my hair. “I am just fine. Between you and Maria, I sound like a skipping record.”

  I relaxed my hold and took a step back to look at him. He looked at me, too. His gaze lowered to my neck and his smile fell into a scowl. “You were hurt.”

  I covered my neck with a hand. The scabs were long gone, replaced by a smooth patch of new skin. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

  Jesu arched his brow. “All that blood on your shirt… must have been a pretty bad scratch.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks. “It healed, and that’s all that matters.”

  Jesu shook his head and then glanced at his lap to hide the grin playing on his lips. His lashes rose and he looked me in the eyes before reaching out to comb his fingers along my temple. He buried his hands into my hair and urged me closer. I closed my eyes and our lips met. Jesu’s mouth was much too soft for my tough vampyre skin, but I loved the way he tasted. His breath was sweet and warm and not too wet, and I had the strangest urge to nibble on his lip. Most of all, I loved the flutter of his heartbeat. The way it jumped and sped when we touched, not unlike my own pulse.

  We broke for air and I remembered our audience. My cheeks warmed at Maria’s beaming smile, but her reaction didn’t bother me half as much as Bridget’s scowl. I forgot she was in the room. Bridget was Jesu’s ex-girlfriend, and I wasn’t sure where we stood with each other.

  Maria nudged Bridget’s arm. “We should give them some privacy.”

  Bridget clenched her jaw and then stomped out the room. Maria followed, closing the infirmary door behind her.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” I said.

  “Done what?”

  “Kissed in front of Bridget. It’s rude.”

  Jesu shrugged. “Bridget knows how I feel. I have nothing to hide.” He scooted to the side and then patted the space next to him. “Lie with me?”

  I climbed onto the bed. “How long do you have to stay here?”

  “I could leave now.”

  Apparently he didn’t want to. Jesu slid an arm under my back and pulled me close. I rested my head against the crook between his shoulder and chest. We stayed that way that for a long while. I wondered why he didn’t ask who shot him, or who mauled my neck. Maybe he already knew. Maria or Bridget could have told him. Maybe he wasn’t surprised that Jalmari finally showed up only to attack us.

  He thought about it, though. I could tell by the way he looked at the ceiling. The green of his irises darkened to the color of the sea just before a hurricane. His pupils trailed far away, yet remained in complete focus. Jesu ta Korento didn’t stare into space and ponder like a normal person. He looked into the cosmos, and examined every detail of it.

  And he looked so fucking hot while he did it.

  The tips of his jet-black tresses fanned over the shoulder yoke of his fitted pinstripe shirt. The top few buttons were undone, exposing pale ice-blue skin pulled taut over his collarbone. My gaze rose to the arch of his long neck. It rested peacefully against the end of the pillow. His pulse played a lulling rhythm while I listened to the pull of blood rushing through his jugular vein. His Adam’s apple—completely healed without a single scar or blemish—protruded more than usual as his strong chin pointed to the heavens. A perfect square jaw framed thin sensual lips that hid a row of sharp teeth.

  Jesu’s fangs carried a potent venom that could transform a human into a vampire and make the victim a willing slave. But, when a vampire bit another vampire...

  Just thinking about it sent a shudder of longing straight to my groin, and I shivered. Before Jalmari attacked us, Jesu and I were in the barn enjoying a romantic picnic dinner. Things got a little heated and Jesu started kissing my neck, which was good, until he began peeling off my top and unveiling the ugly scar Apollyon had branded onto my stomach. I wasn’t ready for Jesu to see it, so I panicked and jumped. One of Jesu’s fangs had grazed my skin and boom! Instant ecstasy. Granted, it was just a little orgasm. Not an eye-rolling, earth-shattering, I’ll-be-satisfied-for-a-month orgasm, but still. That was just from a little accidental nick. What would happen if Jesu really sank his fangs into me?

  Jesu traced imaginary lines on my upper arm with his fingertip and a grin lit his features. “What are you thinking about that made you shiver just now?”

  A smile tugged on the edges of my mou
th. I pushed onto my elbow and faced him. In a sing-song voice, I answered. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” I flattened a palm over Jesu’s chiseled abs and slowly slid my hand to the spot where his shirt hem met the waist of his jeans. “What are you thinking about?”

  His grin teetered. “My brother.”

  I pulled my hand away. Oh-kay, that wasn’t exactly the answer I was hoping for. At least now I knew Jesu was aware of who shot him. It sucked that Jesu and Jalmari were related. Everything would be much easier without their history.

  “Nikolas sent Jalmari home,” I told him, trying my best to keep my tone neutral. “He let him go with a warning.”

  Jesu bit his lip. “Did you tell Jalmari… about this?” He rested a hand on my stomach, indicating the pregnancy.

  I winced, sucking in a sharp breath through my teeth. “No. I haven’t told anyone.”

  Jesu shifted his weight and then tilted his head. “Do you… want him to know?”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  He shrugged.

  “I would never give Jalmari a reason to come back here, so why on earth would I want him to know about this?” All hope of acting neutral toward Jesu’s brother officially ended.

  Jesu lowered his gaze. “You would be in your right, you know? To want the father around.”

  I sat up so fast, I lost my balance and fell off the bed. Luckily, Jesu had the reflexes of a cat—literally. He caught my midriff before I hit the floor and pulled me onto the mattress. I smacked his hands away.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “I am only asking if—”

  “No, I do not want Jalmari around.”

  “Some women want their kids to grow up with a father. I just thought maybe—”

  “No,” I repeated, because he clearly wasn’t hearing me. “It might be Jalmari’s chromosomes that caused this, but as far as I’m concerned that does not make him a dad. I grew up without a father, and I’m perfectly fine.”

  Actually, that was a lie. I triggered my vampyre gene because Dear Ol’ Pops forgot to mention his ancestors were vampyres. Mom also carried an equal share of the fault in her DNA, but I was fairly certain she had no idea vampyres existed. I mean, she couldn’t have known the real reason why her people were persecuted, could she? Dad knew. He knew, and he didn’t bother to leave a note, or a warning. Not even a smoke signal. Not that I would’ve believed him if he had. I twisted away from Jesu and stood, craving motion.