Forbidden Instinct (Forbidden Knights Book 1)

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Forbidden Instinct (Forbidden Knights Book 1) Page 9

by Cassandra Chandler


  “Yes.” Darren actually managed a slight smile as he looked at her. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

  Jack was staring intently at the coin. “Underestimate her at your peril.”

  He knows.

  Somehow, his statement made her sure of it.

  Her stomach started churning. How long had he known? How did he find out? Why had he never mentioned it to her?

  “Orion and the Scorpion,” Jack said.

  The hair on the back of Miranda’s neck stood on end. “What did you say?”

  “Orion and the Scorpion,” Jack repeated. “That’s the design. Orion on one side, the scorpion on the other. It’s from a Greek myth.”

  “Orion…” She remembered her vision, with the stars falling to earth—remembered the pattern of the constellation and finally recognized it.

  Dread flooded her body, making bile rise up in her throat. She pulled her hand away from Darren and hugged her middle tight. She had let him be attacked to avoid the apocalyptic vision. She’d thought that would be the end of it. The end of him.

  She shook her head and started rocking, feeling the weight of the vision pressing down on her. She didn’t know what to do, but knew she was at the center of it.

  Darren being attacked was only the beginning.

  “What is it?” Jack leaned forward in his chair. “What did you see?”

  She shook her head.

  “He needs to know,” Jack said.

  Darren looked back and forth between them. “Know what?”

  “If you really want to help him, you have to tell him,” Jack said.

  He was right.

  She took a deep breath, and forced out the words, “I can see the future.”

  Hearing it out loud added a layer of reality to her ability—her life—that she hadn’t felt since her mom was alive.

  She glanced over at Darren. His eyebrows hiked up his forehead briefly, but then he sort of shook his head, his expression becoming neutral.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “That’s it?” Miranda expected questions, disbelief, something other than this calm acceptance.

  “I don’t really have room to be skeptical.” He smiled at her and shrugged.

  “I suppose not.” Because werewolf. This was so crazy. She turned back to Jack, and asked, “How did you know?”

  Jack stared at her for a long time. The crow’s feet around his eyes deepened, like he was in pain. Finally, he said, “It’s from your dad’s side. He and I fought the fey together, along with your mom and some others.”

  “What?” Miranda felt like her world had shattered around her. She and her mom had always been open and honest with each other—at least, Miranda had thought so. She shook her head. “My mom would have told me.”

  “She wanted you to have a normal life,” Jack said.

  “But I wasn’t normal,” Miranda said. “I’m not normal.”

  “Not everyone in your bloodline develops the sight.” Jack cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy. “Your dad thought you’d been spared.”

  He’d died before Miranda’s powers had manifested. But her mom hadn’t told Miranda any of this.

  “Mom knew,” Miranda whispered. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “She didn’t want this life for you,” Jack said.

  “That wasn’t her choice to make.” Miranda nearly choked on the words, her throat was so tight.

  “It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Jack said. “Because this life has chosen you. I need to know what you saw.”

  “Is that why you offered me this job after mom’s funeral?” she said. “To keep tabs on my visions?”

  “Hell, no.” He took a deep breath and then blew it out. She’d never seen him so upset.

  Jack’s gaze softened and he smiled. Miranda couldn’t remember ever seeing such a sad smile.

  “Your mom didn’t want me anywhere near you.” His eyes glittered in the dim light and his voice sounded strained. “Your dad and I… We were close. You are all that’s left of him in this world. And I couldn’t leave you to be alone in it.”

  The room seemed to be spinning. She wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Nothing she’d thought she understood seemed certain.

  Darren reached over to her and placed his hand on her back. She took a deep, calming breath and let his warmth seep into her.

  This she did understand. Darren wasn’t a monster. He would never be a monster.

  Apparently, Jack didn’t agree. He lifted that damned gun again.

  “Careful, there,” he said.

  “Enough,” Miranda snapped. She shifted closer to Darren, pressing her hands to her thighs to keep from reaching for him. “Too many lives are at stake for you to throw away Darren’s just because you think you know his future. I’ve seen it, and he will not be a threat.”

  At least, not to me.

  Jack leaned back and tapped his fingers on the table. “Tell me.”

  She wasn’t about to share her visions of her and Darren in bed. She focused on the more important issue.

  “An apocalypse,” she said. “But I think I prevented it already.”

  Jack waved his hand in a circle, encouraging her to go on.

  “I’ve never had a vision like this one,” Miranda said. “It was shrouded in metaphors.” And that stupid fog. “Details kept changing, even while I was in it.”

  “What kind of details?” Jack said.

  “Mostly who was in the coffin.” She took a shaky breath, glancing up at Jack. “First it was you. Then Darren.” She skipped over Eden. There was only so much Miranda could take at the moment.

  If Jack was disturbed by learning of his imminent demise, he didn’t show it. Darren was another matter.

  “Wait, we’re going to die?” he said.

  “I don’t know.” Miranda shook her head. “I was in a church, and I saw Jack in a coffin. I looked away, and when I looked back, it was you. So I turned around and ran away. But when I made it outside, the stars were shining so bright it almost hurt to look at them. I didn’t recognize the constellation until you mentioned Orion just now. That’s what it was, though. And the stars were falling from the sky, exploding where they hit.”

  “That sounds more like missiles than stars,” Darren said.

  Jack leveled a grim look at Darren. “Fairies don’t need to use missiles.”

  “Fairies.” Her stomach started doing flips. She felt like she might be sick.

  Her dad had told her fairy tales when she was a little girl. He’d told her the books weren’t always right, and she needed to remember his versions. He’d said it was important.

  She’d always thought they were just stories.

  Darren rested his hand on top of hers, his touch so gentle. He was supporting her, and he didn’t know that she had thrown him to the wolves. Literally, as it turned out. How could she ever tell him what she’d done?

  “How do your visions work?” he asked.

  At least she could explain her powers. Maybe when she had a chance to confess the rest, it would help him understand her choice.

  “Like this.” She looked at him and turned her hand over in his so that their palms were touching. She let his future flow into her.

  He was below her this time. She was straddling him, fingers buried in the fine dark hair that coated his chest. His eyes were pinched shut and his hands clutched the sheets—the same sheets that were currently on her bed at home. Right down to the mismatched pillowslip she had used because she’d spilled something on one of the matching set.

  She felt a quickening between her legs, her face tingling and her breath hitching in her chest.

  They were still going to become lovers. Even after what she was about to tell him. And it was going to happen soon.

  “What are you seeing?” Jack said.

  His question brought her back to her physical senses, to the dark room where she sat with her boss, the not quite retired fairy fighter, and her soon to be werewolf boyfri
end. Darren stared at her intently, pupils wide.

  “I see that Darren is not a threat to me,” she said.

  “That’d be a lot more reassuring if you two weren’t staring at each other like that,” Jack said.

  Miranda forced herself to look away. She turned her hand back over, but rested it on Darren’s thigh. She could feel the energy crackling off of him and briefly wondered if their chemistry was a byproduct of him becoming a werewolf or the attraction they’d felt before it happened.

  “I’ve seen you reading people in the diner,” Jack said. “A light touch on the shoulder, you space out for a few minutes, then you sit down and talk. Maybe steer them toward making better decisions. That’s talk-show stuff. You need to be ready for this, Miranda. You’re walking into a war that’s been going on for thousands of years. A war between humanity and the fey. You have to accept that there will be casualties.”

  He looked pointedly at Darren.

  “Not Darren.” She had already sacrificed him once. She wouldn’t do it again.

  If Jack—or anybody—tried to take Darren from her, she was ready to fight for him and their future together.

  Ready to fight…

  Her stomach seemed to rise and then plummet, like she was on a roller-coaster. The air shifted.

  “Something’s coming.” She heard the words escape her lips like they were spoken from someone else.

  A bell above the door rang—hollow and wooden. Jack whipped his head around, his eyes widening. He leapt to his feet. So did Darren.

  Miranda jumped up and put her hand on Darren’s chest. This would be the perfect chance to escape, but she knew they had to stay. Whatever was about to happen, Jack needed their help.

  Jack turned to Darren and said, “You want to prove to me you’re still a man and not a monster—that you can control this curse? Now’s your chance.”

  He opened the chamber of his gun and let the bullets fall into his hand, then ran to the small cabinet full of ammo again. He pulled out another ring of bullets and reloaded. The bullets weren’t shiny this time. They were a dull gray.

  Miranda grabbed one of the skillets off the counter. She wasn’t sure why she wanted it, but she knew it was important that she have it. She backed up against a wall, holding the skillet in front of her.

  Jack turned toward the room. He smiled when he noticed her weapon of choice. “Iron. Good thinking.”

  “I wasn’t thinking,” she said. “It was instinct.”

  He nodded. “Trust your instincts. Always.” He backed up against a wall himself, holding his gun level and aimed at the door. He was also holding a skillet, brandishing it like a weapon.

  Darren turned to Jack and said, “Can I draw my gun without you shooting me?”

  “It’ll be better if you’re not armed when it shows up.” Jack was scanning the room. “We might be able to take it by surprise.”

  “Take what by surprise?” Darren said.

  Jack shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  The chimes sounded again, stronger this time. Now that Miranda was watching the bells, she saw that it was the bamboo one. She couldn’t remember ever hearing it before.

  Whatever Jack was expecting, it had him scared. More scared than he’d been sitting across the table from Darren—ready to kill or be killed. The tension had escalated, too. Miranda’s skin was crawling.

  “Jack, what’s going on?” she said.

  “Jack?” A new voice sounded in the room. Smooth and lyrical, even in that one word.

  Miranda had been staring at the door the whole time and it had never opened. She turned to look in the direction the voice had come from.

  A handsome blond man stood right next to her, almost close enough to touch. She yelped and jumped away, moving to stand behind Darren.

  Miranda had never seen such a beautiful man. His large eyes were the color of a perfect summer lawn. His skin was as flawless and smooth as fresh snow, and his hair floated around his face in a halo of gold.

  “Humans startle so easily.” He laughed, a cruel smile twisting his inhumanly gorgeous features. “Unless my eyes deceive me, you’ll not find succor with that one, though.”

  “Forester.” Jack’s eyes were wide with fear. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  Miranda wanted to know as well. As far as she could tell, “Forester” had just appeared in the room out of nowhere.

  “It did take some doing, even with my beacon,” Forester said. “I was surprised by the wards, but now it makes a bit more sense—Jack.”

  Forester smiled. His teeth gleamed in the light—bright and perfect. He tilted his head a bit, and his hair fell against his face, revealing the point of his ear. A fairy?

  Please, don’t let him be a fairy.

  If he was a fairy, he wouldn’t even see her as an animal. He’d see her as a chew-toy. He’d want to make her squeak.

  Forester turned his attention to her. “And you are?”

  The green of his eyes swirled with flickering lights. His irises were larger than a human’s. She started to feel unfocused, and was about to mumble her name, when Jack cut in.

  “Don’t answer him,” Jack said. “Never tell a fairy your name if they ask. It gives them power over you.”

  She knew that. Somewhere in the back of her mind. Stories dad had told her. A warning repeated again and again.

  Her thoughts were muddled. She looked at Forester’s chin, breaking eye contact, and her mind began to clear. She tightened her grip on the skillet.

  “It’s inconsequential,” Forester said. “I’ve heard the name I need—even though it’s not a true name. Infamous Jack, the fairy killer.” His smile became even more predatory as he turned to face Jack. “Choosing that name was a very clever trick. But it looks like your luck has run out.”

  Chapter Ten

  This guy wasn’t human. Even with his senses dampened, Darren caught the scent of clover the…whatever Forester was…put off. There was cool air coming out of his mouth and Darren distinctly heard the beating of three hearts in Forester’s chest.

  How different was Darren’s body now? Had his internal organs morphed without him even knowing it?

  “We’ve been looking for you for a very long time.” Forester was still focused on Jack. “The look of surprise on your face is priceless. I’ll remember it for eons to come.”

  “You’re not going to last that long, elf.” Jack pulled back the hammer of his gun.

  Forester shook his head. “If you fire, I’ll blink away before the bullets hit me. They will, however, hit my friend behind me.”

  The only people behind him were Darren and Miranda—and Darren was blocking her body entirely. Was Forester talking about Darren? Because they were not friends.

  Although, something about the guy was familiar. The way he stood. The cut of his hair…

  Forester went on. “Of course, we know how temperamental his kind can be. I’m guessing the little thing standing next to him is your side-kick. You hero-types do love to have side-kicks. A pity you didn’t train this one better. Standing within arm’s reach of a werewolf is outright stupidity. Although, it promises to be highly entertaining when he turns and rips her apart.”

  If he thought Darren was on his side, Forester was in for a rude awakening. Maybe that was what Jack meant about taking him by surprise.

  “You’d make an excellent tribute next cycle,” Forester said. “But I doubt you’ll last long enough. There are too many among us who simply wish to see you dead.” Forester turned and smiled at Darren. “May I count you among them, brother?”

  “I’m an only child,” Darren said.

  Forester cocked his head to the side for a moment. “A rogue? I’m surprised there isn’t blood on the walls already. I’m glad you saved some fun for me.”

  “That coin led you to me,” Jack said. “It’s your beacon.”

  Forester pressed a hand to his chest. “Your grasp of the obvious astounds me.”

  “What I don’t get
is why it was in a werewolf’s guts,” Jack said. “That seems mean, even for a little prick like you.”

  Forester laughed. “Didn’t he mention? Niall follows Antares. He’s one of the Knights. A traitor—but a useful one.”

  Niall… Darren had a name for the man who had turned him, thrown his life into chaos. It made everything more real somehow.

  Niall had been a person, just like Darren. He’d been bitten. Darren wondered what the circumstances were and if Niall fought the change as hard as Darren was fighting it.

  “I see my coin,” Forester said, “but not the courier.”

  Courier…

  The pieces fell into place. The footage had been grainy, but this was the same man Darren had seen outside of the electronics store. This was the thief who had stolen the coins and destroyed Darren’s career.

  It seemed like such a small matter, with everything else going on. Still, his vision started to go red. Darren clenched his hands into fists, nails piercing his palms. He caught the scent of his own blood blossoming, heard the patter of drops as it hit the floor.

  Blood. He needed more blood on his hands. Forester’s blood.

  Darren had thought Forester’s sudden disappearance in the footage was a software glitch. After this guy popping into the room, he realized it wasn’t. Apparently, elves could teleport.

  Darren couldn’t underestimate this opponent. And he had to stay in control.

  “Who did you hire to help you steal the coins from Ford Security?” Subtlety was beyond him. All of Darren’s willpower was being spent not tearing into the guy.

  “Hire?” Forester’s lip curled up in disgust. “I didn’t hire anyone. I made a deal.”

  “I saw what you did to Scott.” Darren’s voice was lower than normal. “I know you were working with Morrison.”

  Forester let out a sudden laugh, the sound like discordant wind chimes. “You were the dark-haired human. The one who had to be distracted.”

  Dammit, it really had been a setup all along. One that had nearly cost Miranda her life.

  “Who told you to wait for me to leave?” Darren’s shoulders bunched up. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t relax them. “Who arranged the accident?”

 

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