Blood Brothers (Turning Stone Chronicles Book 2)

by C. D. Hersh

  “I canna read yer mind, only see yer pain and tell ’tis connected tae Lila. Let me help ye.”

  “I have to do this alone.”

  “A single man canna be the pallbearer.”

  Odd he chose a proverb about the dead when that was her biggest fear about Lila.

  When Delaney didn’t respond, Eli continued, “A burden’s lighter when shared.”

  “Not jail time,” she muttered.

  “Is that what yer afeered of? Going tae jail? By the Druid’s beard! What are ye planning, Delaney?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “I’ll be doing sae unless I have ye in my sight, and after what I’ve seen, I’ll have ye in my sights one way or another.”

  She pushed away from the wall. Eli was a man of his word. A persistent man of his word. She’d learned that about him a long time ago. “If I mentor Alexi will you quit hounding me about this?”

  “Aye.”

  “Fine. Let’s do this.” Then I can get on to my own business.

  “Guid news,” Eli said as he ushered Delaney into the room. “She’s agreed tae mentor ye, Alexi.”

  Alexi eyed Delaney. “No pressure?”

  “He’s a man whose charms are hard to resist,” Delaney said noncommittally.

  “I fully understand, and I’m glad you came back.”

  Delaney scanned Alexi’s aura. A pale blue shimmered at the edge of her ring aura. No dark spots. No lies. Maybe she could redeem herself as a mentor with Alexi. At the very least she could try.

  “Tell me about this year’s Promised One,” she said to Eli.

  Harry Williams paused at the entrance to Alexi’s ER room, hand hovering over the doorknob, uncertain when he heard the voices inside. Did she have company? He peeked in through a crack in the window curtain. The only people he recognized were Alexi and Rhys. He moved from the door, planning to return later.

  “Captain,” Rhys said as he opened the door. “Come in.”

  “I’m not intruding?”

  “No. Alexi will be glad to see you.”

  Harry stepped into the room. Going immediately to her bedside, he set the small vase of flowers he’d brought on the nightstand. “Didn’t know what kind you liked.”

  Retrieving the vase, she held the flowers to her nose and inhaled. “These are gorgeous, Captain. Thank you.”

  Tubes stuck into his favorite homicide detective’s arms. She seemed helpless hooked to the equipment. Not at all like the fearless woman he knew. “You going to be okay?”

  “I’ve got to stay in for a few days, but then I should be fine.”

  He glared at Rhys. “How did you let her get mauled by a panther?”

  “She ran in ahead of me. Like she always does.”

  “Headstrong woman,” Harry said to Alexi.

  “That’s what makes me so good,” she replied with a smile that lit her drawn face. Alexi directed his attention toward the older man. “This is Eli McCraigen, an old friend of Baron’s, and this,” she said, pointing to the woman, “is Delaney Ramsey. Our boss, Captain Harry Williams.”

  Giving Eli a cursory nod, Harry then turned toward Delaney. A pair of turquoise eyes shone out of a china doll face, with the slightest hint of a middle age crease around her cupid-bow mouth. A minute passed before he found his voice. “Ms. Ramsey, nice to meet you,” he said with a squeak. He hadn’t jumped octaves like that since his teenage acne cleared.

  Smiling, her face lit. Amused, no doubt, by him. His gaze swept over her. She had a body a man could lose himself in. When she caught him enjoying the view, she blushed and returned the favor.

  The once-over caused him to respond faster than he thought possible. A woman had not made him react like that in a long time. Women were a distraction. One he’d only dallied with occasionally since his wife left him. They all ran the minute they heard he was a career cop.

  “When are you coming back to work, Temple?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m staying with Alexi, at least until they get her a room.”

  “No longer. I want you to run interference with that Homeland Security official Sylvia Riley. She’s made herself too much at home for my taste.” He nodded to Eli and Delaney. “I’ll see you later,” he told Alexi.

  Delaney watched Harry’s backside exit the room. For a man his age, he had a nicely sculpted, tight rear. “He seems like a nice boss,” she said.

  “He has his moments,” Alexi replied. “He seemed taken with you.”

  “Really?” Something jumped in her stomach, twirling somersaults. “How could you tell?”

  Crooking her finger at Delaney, Alexi motioned her closer and whispered, “The front of his pants tented.”

  A hot flash surged through Delaney, one not borne from menopause. Swiveling, she checked to see if Rhys or Eli heard. They stood quietly talking by the door.

  “Unless I miss my guess, you’re interested in him, too.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Did Alexi have Eli’s gift?

  Alexi pointed at her shirt.

  The outline of Delaney’s nipples showed through the cotton knit turtleneck. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide the evidence. “It’s cold in here.”

  A mischievous smile curled Alexi’s lips. “That’s why your cheeks are red, I guess?”

  A sudden flash of nostalgia flooded over her. Lila and she had bantered like this before they’d split. She missed it. A lot. In spite of the fact Alexi was calling her on a sexual matter, she enjoyed their teasing. “You’re an impudent little thing,” she said lightly.

  Alexi’s smile widened. “My uncle always said so. If you ask Rhys, he’d probably tell you the same thing. Eli, too.”

  Straightening, Delaney glanced at Eli. A broad grin shone out from his grizzled reddish-gray beard. Darn the man. He knew she’d take a liking to Alexi. Was there nothing she could hide from him?

  She hoped so. He wouldn’t like what she would do if someone had hurt her daughter.

  Chapter 2

  “You missed last night’s Samhain meeting,” Falhman said.

  Sylvia pointed to her injured shoulder. “Sorry. I was a little busy. Anything happen I should know about?”

  “You’re getting a new mentee. Should be here any minute.” As if on cue, a rap sounded at the door. “Enter,” Falhman called.

  Sylvia’s breath caught in her throat as the door opened. “Rhys Temple,” she whispered as the man entered. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who Rhys was?”

  “Because I don’t,” Falhman said. “This is Roc, our newest, and most skilled, Promised One of this year.”

  “He’s a dead ringer for Rhys.” Sylvia raked her gaze over Roc’s tall, muscular body. “Do you have a brother?” she asked him.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Roc is the adopted son of Cecil and Caroline Decker.” Falhman offered.

  Circling Roc, Sylvia took in every inch of his form. His head tipped toward her, a small, satisfied smile indicating he enjoyed her assessment. “You could have a brother,” she said.

  “I suppose I could. But I’m thinking it’s not my brother you’re interested in.” A smile lit his features with a sensual come-hither-look that sent spirals of desire along Sylvia’s spine.

  Oh, he was right.

  If they were brothers, could Roc do the same things as Rhys? Her one passionate tryst with Rhys, which caused them to mind shift, had freaked him out, but she found it extremely erotic. As a potential Promised One, Roc knew how to shift very well. Would that make mind shifting sex even better?

  “What do I need to teach him?” she asked Falhman.

  “Let’s test him first. See if he can do what you mentioned.”

  Sylvia trailed her hand over Roc’s bicep,
the muscle tightening under her caress. “With pleasure.” This was one assignment she would enjoy. Looping her arm through his, she urged him out the door. “Your place or mine?”

  “The lady’s, of course. I find women always relax more in familiar surroundings.”

  She batted her eyelashes. “A Casanova?”

  “I prefer to consider myself a romancer of women. If you don’t mind my saying, you are quite a woman.”

  She didn’t mind one bit. In fact, if he kept giving compliments and those lascivious stares they might not even make it past the back seat of her car. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, changing the conversation to keep her libido on an even keel until they were behind closed doors.

  He grinned at her. “I like screamers.”

  Locked, closed doors. “I like to scream. But that’s not what I meant. Who is Roc Decker, besides adopted son of Cecil and Caroline?”

  “Just your ordinary rogue shape shifter destined to become Promised One and ruler of all he sees.” He opened the driver’s door for her and helped her in. “What you see is what you get,” he said as he closed the door.

  He crossed in front of the car, moving with smooth grace. She definitely wanted to get what she saw. Urgency pulsed through her. Even if they didn’t mind shift, this was going to be one unbelievable afternoon. He dropped onto the passenger seat, and she gunned out of the parking space before he’d even slammed the door shut.

  “In a hurry?” His hand landed lightly on her knee and slid under her skirt.

  Forcing herself to focus on the road, Sylvia ignored the rush of heat preceding his roving fingers. She needed control, and he was shattering every bit she had.

  “Seems as if you are.” She grabbed his thigh. His fingers stopped moving.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he said.

  “You either, or we won’t make it to my hotel. Falhman won’t be happy if we’re hauled in for screwing in the back of a parked rental car, on the city street.”

  He removed his hand from her leg. “Probably not, but thinking about it gives me a thrill.”

  She pressed the accelerator down and dodged through the traffic. Yeah, she was going to enjoy this assignment.

  The key was barely out of the lock when Roc shoved Sylvia into the room and backed her against the wall next to the door. The deadbolt clicked and then the safety lock hit the doorframe. The color of his aura spiked, pulsing stronger, clearing from a muddied red to a clear, bright scarlet. He wanted her. She could plainly see that. Could he see the same thing in her aura?

  Unbuttoning her blouse with experienced ease, he pushed the fabric off her shoulders, then gathered her into his arms and carried her to the king-sized bed. As she abandoned herself to the lust he stirred in her, two things went through her passion-fogged brain. If Roc couldn’t mind shift with her, Falhman was not going to be happy. If Falhman wasn’t happy, she wasn’t going to be happy.

  Roc cradled Sylvia against his sweat-slicked, satisfied body. She’d been the first since his shape-shifter fiancée had tried to take over his body, and he’d killed her. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the feel of a woman in his arms. This one was a bit of a cougar, but apparently had nothing on her mind but the pure pleasure of the act. That made her safe. Not like his dead fiancée. Not like all the other women who wanted something more from him.

  Raw sexual release was all he was going to go after. No women with hidden agendas.

  “Did I pass?” he asked her.

  “Oh, yeah.” Sylvia spooned against him. He scooted away.

  The night he’d killed her she had spooned him. Rolling Sylvia over, he asked, “What’s next?” With confusion clouding her black eyes, she blinked at him. “What do you want me to do now?” he clarified. “Shift into my alter ego? Mimic? Screw you again?”

  Eyes sparking at the mention of sex, she whispered seductively, “I like the last suggestion.”

  “I do, too.” He trailed his hand down the side of her body. “Do you do this with all your mentees?”

  She snuggled against him, returning the caress. “Only the special ones.”

  Special was good. “This is going to be a lot more fun than my last mentor.”

  “Who was that?”

  “My father.” He tried to keep the hostility out of his voice, but didn’t succeed.

  Drawing away, Sylvia studied him. “Parents only push their children because they want them to be the best they can be. Being a potential Promised One is a big deal.”

  “So is being a son.” His parents never made him feel like he mattered.

  “I’m sure he only had your best interest in mind.”

  “You say that as if you believe it.”

  “I do. I have a son. I know how your parents feel.”

  Roc moved to the edge of the bed.

  Sitting, she tugged the bedcovers over her chest. “What are you doing?”

  “This conversation is a turn off.” Bending over, he picked his shirt off the floor. “I liked the sex. No, loved the sex.” Kid or not, she was one hot babe. “But if we do this again, no chitchat about parents or Promised Ones. Keep it simple and recreational. Deal?”

  She raked his body with a predatory stare. “I like the recreational part and, trust me, there will be another time.” Her tongue seductively danced over her lips. “But I won’t promise I’ll keep it simple.”

  Roc’s body responded to her sexy, suggestive action. He dropped his shirt and got back in the bed. Tucking her body against the length of his, he kissed the hollow of her shoulder. She arched against him as he kissed his way down her collarbone. “I’m going to hold you to that promise. Right now.”

  Chapter 3

  Grumbling, Rhys unlocked the door to Alexi’s house and ushered in Eli. “Don’t know why I couldn’t have stayed with Alexi in the hospital.”

  “I told ye, laddie, we havetae prepare for the council meeting. They’re going tae want tae know what ye can do.”

  Rhys glanced at his watch. “In four hours? It took Alexi years.”

  “She hasnae the innate skill ye do. Tae draw power from the rings o’ other shifter hasnae been done in thousands o’ centuries and ye did it. Twice.”

  Had his hasty decision to join the Turning Stone Society been a bad idea? But it tied him to Alexi, in multiple ways. He didn’t regret that. Rhys hung his Stetson on the hall rack and then shrugged out of his coat. “Where do we start?”

  “With something ye’ve already done. Ye can try tae pull oot my life force.”

  Rhys backed away, hands in the air. “No way. I’m not fond of you, but I don’t want to kill you, old man.”

  “Ye’ll nae harm me. I’ll control the contact. Ye need tae do whatever ’twas ye did the first time.”

  “Don’t know what I did.”

  Eli stroked his beard. “Then we’ll wing it.” He held his hands out to Rhys. “Take both o’ my hands. ’Twas closed contact the first time.”

  “Alexi was here. Don’t we need three?”

  “Mayhaps not. Since ye have yer own ring, ye’ll have more power.” Eli waggled his hand at Rhys. “Come on, laddie.”

  He slowly grasped Eli’s gnarled hands, keeping a loose grip the old man could easily break. Nothing happened. “Now what?”

  “Think about my hirt pumping and see if you can will it tae slow, or race.”

  Concentrating, Rhys stared into Eli’s eyes. Then he remembered the visions of the future Eli had given him in the ER while Alexi was still unconscious. He’d no desire to see terrible omens again. Quickly, he unfocused his gaze to see all of Eli’s face. The old man’s features doubled and softened.

  Rhys slowed his breathing, like he had when he’d prepared to take a marksman shot on the Iraqi battlefront. The measured beat of his heart, slow and ste
ady, thrummed in his ears. He thought about Eli, pictured his blood racing through his veins. The rhythm of Rhys’ blood pounding in his ears hiccupped, a second beat joining in. Startled, he moved his focus off Eli. The air surrounding them shimmered.

  “Yer doing it, laddie,” Eli whispered in a strained voice.