Blood Brothers (Turning Stone Chronicles Book 2)

by C. D. Hersh

  “Do you always attract the powerful women, brother?”

  “Don’t you?” Rhys tipped his head toward Sylvia.

  Roc slipped his arm around her, drawing her against him. “Always.”

  “Then we have that in common.” He settled his Stetson forward on his brow. “I’ll be in touch. Next time we meet, Sylvia, I want more proof than your sexual experiences with us, or I’m walking.”

  As soon as Rhys closed the door, Sylvia drew away from Roc.

  “What was all the hugging crap?”

  “Playing his game. My brother obviously fancies himself a ladies’ man. Wouldn’t do for me to be less of one.”

  “Don’t play me as your conquest, Roc. We’re equals in this and in our relationship.”

  “Not if you want this plan to work. He doesn’t trust you and with good cause apparently.”

  Fire flashed in her black eyes. “There was a reason for what I did.”

  “You always have a reason for everything you do. But you have to take the backseat here.” The tiny creases forming around her almond-shaped eyes told him she was not pleased. “Suck it up, Sylvia. I’m the one who has to connect to him, not you. I’ll call the shots.”

  “Did you?”

  “What?”

  “Connect to him? Something happened when you two shook hands. What?”

  He wasn’t sure what happened. Measuring his answer, he tried to give her only enough to satisfy her curiosity. “A shifter thing, I guess. Or maybe it was a twin thing.” No way would he tell her his blood recognized Rhys’ blood. Would she even buy the explanation? He experienced it and wasn’t sure he believed it. Still, something powerful had happened when they touched.

  “Did he try to mind shift with you?”

  “Not if it always feels like what happened with us. Does it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve only experienced it during sex. Maybe he was trying to probe you somehow. Do an ESP thing.”

  “Is that a Promised One ability?” He hadn’t experienced that.

  “Beats me,” Sylvia said with a shrug. “We’re in uncharted waters here with the two of you. For all I know he can read minds as well as auras.”

  “Definitely wasn’t mind reading. There was power there, but I can’t identify it.”

  “Then you’d better hope you have the same thing.” She angled her head to the side and gave him a calculated stare. “I wonder who’s firstborn. Could be important.”

  “How are we going to find out?”

  “I work for Homeland Security. I’ll find some way to locate and unseal those adoption papers.”

  “Without leaving a trail?”

  Her heavy lidded eyes barely concealed her disdain. “I didn’t get where I am today by being sloppy. If I say I can do something, I will deliver. You can bank on that.”

  Rhys was right. Powerful women attracted him.

  Although Lila had not been a powerful woman, she had been sensuous, beautiful, kind, and loving. He often wondered how he had fallen for a woman like that. How someone as wonderful as that had fallen for him. Agony squeezed his heart as the memories of their times together clouded his vision.

  A deep-throated laugh bubbled from Sylvia as she snaked her arm around his waist.

  Lila was gone. He had to concentrate on the present. Sylvia was very powerful if she could do what she described. His groin grew heavy, as he tugged her against him. “I’m counting on your delivery. Now.”

  “I thought you’d never ask. One of you makes me very hot. Standing between you and Rhys sets me on fire.”

  What did she mean? Roc yanked her tighter. “You’re mine. Don’t forget.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he crushed her lips savagely. Reciprocating, she bit his bottom lip until he could taste blood. He swept her into his arms and onto the bed, ripping her blouse open as she fumbled with his jeans.

  “Are we going to mind shift?” she asked breathlessly.

  “No,” he growled as he pushed the rest of her clothes off. His head filled with visions of Sylvia’s naked body, overpowering thoughts of Lila. All he wanted was release. Not memories and regrets.

  Sylvia spooned Roc, and he bucked away from her. Discouraged, she rolled from the bed and put on her panties. There’d been no mind shifting, much to her disappointment. What was the trigger for the explosive, deliriously wild sex? She ached to experience it again, fully, without Roc withdrawing.

  He lay still as she finished dressing, asleep, or pretending. Either way, they were done for the moment. Before leaving, she jotted a quick note on the hotel memo pad.

  Falhman answered the door when she knocked. Surprised, she searched for his usual henchmen. The penthouse was empty.

  “Did you give your goons the day off?” she asked, waltzing in as casually as she could. She dropped her handbag onto the couch and waited for his reply.

  “We need to talk.”

  Not the answer she was expecting. “About?”

  “Alexi Jordan and Rhys Temple.”

  Sylvia’s heart hammered in her chest. “I’ve got the picture of Alexi in her casket right here.” She dug in her handbag and extracted the photo she’d taken with her brooch camera. “She’s dead, like I promised.”

  He took the proffered picture, glanced at it, and then tucked it into his shirt pocket. “I know.”

  Sylvia’s mouth dropped open. When she realized it, she clamped it shut. “How?”

  “My people.”

  Anger coursed through her like volcanic lava. She tried to cool the flow before it showed in her aura. “Then why did you make me go through all of that?”

  “To prove yourself.”

  Not caring if he read her, she let her anger erupt. “You’ve got my son under your control. I’m mentoring your Promised One. I personally killed a woman for you, and I still have to prove myself?” Her voice rose with each sentence until she sounded shrill. Reigning in her irritation, she purposely lowered her voice to a menacing whisper. “What gives you the right to keep playing me?”

  A smile crooked his mouth to the left. “Power, my dear. Ultimate power.”

  At the evil crossing his face, she stifled a shudder and stuffed her smart aleck response down her throat. “What more do you want from me?”

  “Your loyalty.”

  “I can do that.” The answer was partially truthful, in as much as it pertained to Owen. She’d do whatever necessary to safeguard him.

  “I know. Now.” Waving his hand toward the couch, he indicated she should sit. “Drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  Falhman crossed to the bar, took a water bottle from the cooler, and then poured a shot of whiskey. He placed the drinks on a silver tray and sat the tray on the coffee table in front of her. “You’ve proved yourself. I have the reward we talked about. And another job.” He fished in his pocket and withdrew a ring full of keys. “Rogueman’s Bar is under your management as of this moment.” He tossed the keys across the table to her. They landed in her lap. “I will require weekly updates on all transactions made in the bar. Cash and otherwise.”

  “Otherwise?”

  “The bar is the one place in the city where shifters feel comfortable. They drink, they talk, they scheme.”

  His purpose in rewarding her suddenly became very clear. “I’m your dirty little spy.”

  “Such a harsh way to put it, don’t you think? I prefer to think of you as my employee. My loyal employee.”

  She plopped her water bottle on the table and dropped the keys into her handbag. Despite his intentions, she’d make this work to her advantage. “What’s the other job?”

  “I want to know where Rhys Temple came from. While you’re at it, check Roc’s background.”

  “Why not ask Roc’s father?”

/>   “If anyone knows I’m investigating our Promised One it could cause problems.”

  He didn’t know the half of it. If her suspicions were correct, the backgrounds of the brothers would send a tsunami through both factions of the Turning Stone Society. Following her agenda and ferreting out Falhman’s agenda regarding Rhys and Roc was going to be one hellacious balancing act.

  She rose to leave. “I’ll see what I can find out.” And what I can keep secret from you.

  Chapter 23

  Alexi twirled in front of the full-length mirror, the bias-cut white skirt sweeping around her ankles. The lace attached to the ring of flowers in her hair settled gracefully around her shoulders when she stopped and stared at herself.

  “I’m really getting married,” she said in an awe filled voice. “Today. My stomach is full of butterflies. Is it supposed to be this way?”

  Delaney’s heart ached as she watched. This didn’t feel right, but there was no way she could stop the wedding. “Butterflies are natural.” She gently touched Alexi’s cheek. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Absolutely. Rhys is everything I’ve ever wanted. Strong. Handsome. He loves me. And he’s a shifter now.” She laid her hands over Delaney’s hands. “I never thought I’d have this-marriage, I mean. Marriage to a non-shifter has never been an option.”

  Delaney nodded. Her own mixed marriage had failed miserably. “Eli says the handfasting is for a year and a day. If it doesn’t work out-”

  “It will,” Alexi said fiercely.

  Shoving the admonishments she longed to say down her throat, she prayed, for Alexi’s sake, she was wrong about Rhys.

  A knock sounded. “We’re ready,” Eli called through the door. “The captain ’tis here tae walk the bride downstairs.”

  Delaney smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of Alexi’s white dress and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her shoulder. “Perfect. You are a beautiful bride.”

  Alexi beamed. “I hope Rhys thinks so.”

  “If he doesn’t, then he’s a blind idiot.” Delaney glanced at her own reflection and settled the blue, off-the-shoulder dress evenly over her bust. Would Harry think her beautiful?

  Another impatient knocked rattled the door. She bustled across the room and flung the door open. Harry stood on the other side, fist raised, ready to knock again. Lowering his hand, his gaze swept appreciatively over her. She warmed to her toes.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey, yourself.” The gray, close fitting suit showed off his muscled shoulders and trim hips. His turquoise tie almost matched her dress. “You clean up pretty good, for a cop.”

  He smiled. “Glad you like it.”

  She did like it. As he stared at her, admiration and desire shining in his eyes, for a brief moment she let herself imagine it was her wedding day, not Alexi’s. Delaney willed the horde of bumblebees swarming in her stomach to calm, but they wouldn’t stop. He made her feel alive.

  “The bride ready?”

  As she stepped aside so he could see Alexi, Harry’s smile softened in fatherly love. “You’re beautiful, Alexi. Rhys Temple is one lucky guy.” He held out his arm to her.

  “Thanks, Captain.” She slipped her arm through his. “Thanks for being here for me today. Being here for us.”

  “Couldn’t have kept me away,” he said, patting her arm.

  They started down the hall, and Delaney dashed after them, waving a small nosegay of flowers. “Your bouquet!”

  Alexi took the flowers and Delaney stepped in front of her, leading the pair downstairs.

  The squeal of bagpipes from the CD player filled the air as they reached the foyer. She walked into the living room to the wailing accompaniment, stepping along the edge of the circle of rose petals laid on the floor in the center of the room. Then she swiveled to watch Alexi and Harry enter.

  A tear slipped down her cheek as they made their way around the circle, and she swiped it away. Weddings always made her cry. Made her think of her own failed marriage. About Lila. About how her daughter had planned her wedding from the day she was big enough to play dress-up and hum the “Wedding March.” Did she cry today because she feared for Alexi, who’d become as close to her as Lila? Or were her tears because she feared she’d never see her daughter alive, much less married? None of the reasons were appropriate wedding thoughts. Determined to think of happier things, she focused on Harry. He smiled at her, banishing all her negativity, for the moment.

  Eli spoke, breaking her link with Harry. “Alexi and Rhys, afore ye go further, realize in this mortal life ye have created bonds that canna be taken lightly-friends and lovers and now mates. By declaring yer intent tae be handfasted ye will be forming eternal and sacred bonds that canna be taken lightly, either. By standing in this circle, and speaking yer promises taeday in front o’ yer friends and yer creator, ye bind yerselves, yer lives, and yer hirts. Ye will be two souls that canna be separated, as ye canna be separated from the stone o’ the earth that binds us all.

  “Knowing this, do ye still wish tae enter intae this ceremony?”

  “Yes,” Alexi and Rhys said in unison.

  “Then let us ask for the blessing o’ the four cardinal directions.” Eli faced east and held his hands vertical, fingers spread apart. The rest of the party followed his lead. “From the East comes the element o’ the air with its gifts o’ the breath o’ life and inspiration. May the air bless ye and blow away yer troubles and strife and carry positive things intae each new day o’ yer lives taegether.”

  Closed fists held high, he angled to the south. “From the South comes the element o’ the fire with its gifts o’ energy and purification, strong will, and growth. May the fire fill yer home with love and warmth and the fire within yer hirts generate light tae share with one another in even the darkest o’ times.”

  Moving toward the west, he cupped his hands in front of his chest. “From the West comes the element o’ water with its gifts o’ emotion and healing and passion. May the water keep yer hirts open tae one another, with a fervor tae always mend the hurts o’ life.”

  Finally, he turned to the north, hands outstretched, palms toward the floor. “From the North comes the element o’ the earth with its gifts o’ stability and fertility. May the earth provide ye with hearth and home and a solid rock tae stand on all the years o’ yer life.”

  They all took their original positions. Delaney gave Harry a glance to see how the unorthodox ceremony affected him. He seemed a bit puzzled, but was handling it okay.

  He caught her staring at him and smiled. A shot of hope rose in her heart, and she shut it down. He was mortal. She wasn’t. No chance of happiness there. She smiled, reminding herself whatever happiness they might steal would be temporary. I’ll take what he gives and run with it. Lila would approve. She focused her attention on the ceremony.

  Eli said, “Who gives this woman tae be bound taeday tae this man?”

  “I do,” Harry said. He kissed Alexi on the cheek, handed her off to Rhys, then crossed behind the bride to stand next to the groom.

  “Since ye dinna have yer own colors, I’ve lent ye a bit o’ my own plaid for yer handfasting.” He removed a strip of tartan from his pocket and wrapped it around Rhys’ and Alexi’s right hands. “Have ye other cords tae bind each other with?”

  “Five cords,” Delaney said, brushing the ribbons she held in her hands. She held the first braided cord of ribbons out to Eli: orange, light blue, and dark blue.

  He took the ribbon from her. “Alexi and Rhys, the orange and light blue colors in these ribbons symbolize adaptability, kindness, encouragement, understanding, and patience. Do ye promise tae be all these things tae one another?”

  “We do,” they answered in unison.

  “The dark blue represents strength, longevity and a safe journey. I pray for the bles
sing o’ these things on yer marriage.” He laid the braided ribbons over their outstretched hands. “And sae the first binding ’tis made.”

  He took the second cord of violet, black, and white from Delaney. “The violet and black in this cord represent power, protective energy, wisdom, vision, and pure love. Do ye promise tae provide these things tae each other in yer relationship?”

  “We do,” Alexi and Rhys said.