by Hart, Lane
"What the fuck was that?" I ask the two guards in the back with me, since the ones in the car ahead of us all have two-way communication pieces in their ears.
"We're being fired on," one says, cocking and loading his AK-47 while the other does the same. I don't need weapons, and if worse comes to worse, neither do any of these guys. But shifting in public is a last resort. Obviously, I don't need the men to defend me. They're just tagging along to make sure I'm never outnumbered.
"Backup's been summoned," one tells me.
"You better mean the men who are on call because I don't want you pulling men away from the estate and leaving the house defenseless." There's forty-six armed men patrolling, but for some reason, it doesn't feel like enough to ensure Hope and her boys are safe. Not if we're currently being attacked in broad daylight.
After the car comes to a stop I know we need to hurry up and get out in case the gas tank blows. I grab for the door but a guard insists on going first since gunfire can still be heard. As soon as the man steps out, his body jerks backwards like he's been shot. Fuck. With a bullet resistant vest and our healing abilities he'll hopefully be all right.
I climb out, hunched over, keeping my head down until I have time to invoke the shift. Just a single thought and my body quickly contorts and expands, effortlessly bursting out of my shredded clothes until I'm a massive eight feet long, four hundred pound lion.
My lion hasn't been unleashed in a long time, maybe months since the moon doesn't control us like the legends say. I decide when he comes out to play, and today he's restless because of the hiatus, begging to rip into someone. The crackling of the alpha power in my blood feels even stronger in my animal form. This is the true king of beasts, and now he’s eager to prove his dominance.
The lion’s superior senses help me pinpoint the gunmen. Based on their smell, there’s three vampires taking cover behind a small, burgundy sedan. My men are aiming at them from their own protected positions behind the limo and Hummer, but we're at a standoff, neither side able to push forward without getting shot.
I take off at a sprint, giving a roar to warn my guys to hold their fire, and then leap over the attacker’s vehicle a second later. I open my mouth wide, chomping down on a vampire's neck while swiping my claws wildly into the other two in passing.
The first one's dead after I rip out his jugular, and the other two ooze blood from the six inch gashes down their chests. They won't survive without time to heal or more human blood. I don't intend for them to, either. At this point I’m not sure I could walk away without killing them.
Once the second vampire meets the same fate as the first, I turn to the third. He's wide-eyed and panicked, seeing the end. I growl at him as I stalk closer, bearing my teeth. I'm giving him a chance to squeal like a pig, naming those responsible. I already know who sent him, but I want to hear him say it.
"Bron...trying to...convince shifters...to follow," he chokes out.
Shifters? Why would they ever agree to join him when he'd just as soon kill them?
"How many?" I ask and it comes out in a distorted growl.
"A few...hundred. Everywhere."
Fuck! Ryan's right. They're starting to run so scared that they're willing to trust him of all damn people. I need to suck it up and do what I have to do to show the underworld that I won't let the Coughlin line die out and leave them vulnerable. And I've got to make the move soon before even more side with Bron Drake.
I chomp down and separate the vampire's head from his body, putting him out of his misery. Once I'm surrounded by my guards’ protection, I shift back. Those few seconds when I’m in-between leave me the most vulnerable to an attack.
"Is this car still drivable?" I ask, nodding to the sedan. One of the guys reaches in and turns the key stuck in the engine. Thankfully, it roars to life. The guard sits down in the driver’s seat and I tell the other guys to clean up the mess we made before retrieving Hope and the boys’ things that were luckily in the back of the wrecked and scorched limo. Now naked and covered in blood, I climb into the backseat of the car filled with bullet holes, so I can finally go home and get cleaned up. There's someone I need to go see.
…
I walk into the crowded Peking Pagoda, the only Chinese restaurant in town, around lunchtime, and wait for the hostess to seat me. I wouldn't be surprised if the owner, Li Na, has some sort of curse or spell that keeps competition out of the city. The woman is one of the few remaining descendants of the Shang dynasty, weredragons, almost as strong as the lion. She may not be able to shift, but I've heard she can do some pretty powerful magic. Li Na was also my mother's best friend and caregiver from the time she was a few years old. They were neighbors before my mother’s arranged marriage to my father.
"How many?" the beautiful, young, Asian woman asks me from behind the hostess podium.
"Just one," I tell her, leaving all my bodyguards at the door. I'm almost certain I'll be safe in here. "But I'd like to see Li Na if she's free."
"Um, well, may I tell her who-" she begins stammering.
"No need, Jun. I know who he is," the elderly woman says with her approach. "Young Coughlin. I'm surprised it took you so long to come and see me."
"I've been a little busy with taking over the family business," I respond. The last time I saw her was almost five years ago after my father beat the shit out of me. As soon as I healed, I fled the city and never looked back until the bastard turned up dead.
"Yes, and before that you were too busy running from your responsibilities. Well, I know what you're here for. Let's have a seat," she says, starting toward the back of the restaurant and pulling out a chair to take a seat at one of the few empty tables.
"So you did the spell for my father?" I ask, jumping straight to the point.
"Yes. Just after you left town."
"Why?"
"He didn't give me a choice."
That makes sense. "And at the stroke of midnight on my twenty-fifth birthday, poof, it's gone?"
"Yes," she says.
"What happens then?"
"If you were not able to produce a male lion heir, the underworld would become leaderless until someone proves themselves to be alpha."
"And there's no way I can prevent it, other than with a male heir?" I ask.
"There's no need to worry. Your bloodline's reign is safe."
"So you're saying I'm going to have an heir and live happily ever after?" I ask.
"No."
"Then what are you saying?" I ask, getting annoyed with our runaround.
"You have heirs, but your future will not be a happy one. You're going to lose everything that's important to you all because of the path you set out on back in your stubborn, selfish youth. You'll have no one to blame but yourself."
I reel back from her harsh words. My emotions fluctuate from angry to distraught at the mention of losing what's important to me. Does that mean I'm going to lose Hope? Because at the moment, she's the only person I'd say is actually important to me.
"I didn't ask you for a fucking tarot reading, witch," I mutter through clenched teeth.
"I didn't create your destructive future, you did. And when you realize the costs of your ambivalence about running instead of doing what needs to be done to rule over and protect an entire society, you're going to need me."
"Need you? Why, so I can hear more of your hokey fortune telling?" I ask.
"You should be glad that I pity you and am doing this for the entire underworld, otherwise I'd let you rot in your self-made misery. Now leave before you change my mind."
I jump to my feet, barely holding my tongue as I storm across the room to the exit. Who the hell does she think she is giving me orders? She's wrong. I will be happy. I may have to own up to the responsibility that I need to marry a woman I don't give a shit about in order to have lion heirs, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to let go of the woman I want.
Chapter Eight
Hope
The boys and I are han
ging out in the sitting room trying to relax. It's hard to do after the scare last night. To take my mind off things, I'm reading a celebrity magazine Marjorie let me borrow while the boys sit on the floor and fight over Eric's Transformers. Even though there's at least five or six similar toys, they both want the single blue and red guy.
When Eric walks in past the guard, I almost choke on the air, forgetting after just a few hours how damn sexy he is, even if he can be a jerk. His long hair is brushed straight back, looking darker like it's still wet from a shower. He's wearing jeans and a polo shirt, dressed more casually than normal. He's hot dressed up, but like this, well, he's incredible. He becomes even sexier when I see the boys' toy bins in his hands. They don't have many toys, but they cherish the ones they have.
Noah and Riley jump up from the floor and cheer when they see the familiar containers. I discretely try to wipe a tear away from the corner of my eye before it falls.
When Eric lifts three books from the top container he becomes my hero. Our photo albums. The only pictures I have of the boys from the day they were born up until the last ones I had printed a few weeks ago.
There's no preventing the tears that start to fall down my cheeks, so I don't bother trying to wipe them away when I get up and wrap my arms around Eric. After a second he hugs me back with the hand that's not full.
"Thank you," I tell him when I pull away and take the books from him.
"You're welcome. Oh, and there's something else I brought back that I'll show you later," he says with a smile, making me wonder what it could be. "I'll see you at dinner."
I nod and then he's gone. When I hear the doorbell ring a little while later I wonder if it's that uppity woman again, and if so, will we have to endure her at dinner again tonight.
...
Sure as shit, there the blonde, prissy bitch sits across from me in the same seat at the table as before. She seems to be in a terrific mood, smiling like she just won the lottery. Heath sits beside her, and, unbeknownst to her, mimics her girly gestures like flipping his fake hair over his shoulder and flapping his hands around like she does when she talks. The boys snicker, and I can't help my own smile at his shenanigans.
Tonight's dinner is meatloaf, green beans and mashed potatoes, making me wonder if Marjorie toned down her typically more extravagant meals because of the boys’ pickiness. At lunch I've insisted on sandwiches to keep things simple and so no one tries to cook.
Eric is the last one to join us, sitting down at the head of the table. His wavy hair is now dry, looking messy like he's been running his hands through it. I can't wait to get my hands in it again tonight.
"So I've already notified my parents," the excited woman begins telling him, reaching over to stroke his arm. I try to tune out their conversation and ignore her touching him, but it's nearly impossible with them so close. "We're thinking early June would be lovely for an outdoor wedding, although that won't give us much more than a few weeks to plan."
Wedding?
I'm pretty sure I hear Heath choke on his food. My head whips around to Eric for confirmation. He doesn't even look up, focusing intently on the plate in front of him.
"June is fine," he says.
My stomach drops with his short response. Hearing he's marrying her when last night he was telling me he didn't want to lose me again is...confusing. I knew there wasn't even the possibility of a real future for us, but I didn't think he'd cast me aside so soon without even being decent enough to tell me!
"Of course you know we don't have to wait until then to start trying for heirs," the bitch assures him. The shards of glass in my heart sink in a little deeper with every word out of her mouth. I want to stand up and yell at her and him both that he already has heirs and doesn't need hers! But I don't. We're not his responsibility and will never fit into his extravagant, perfect life.
I quickly throw up all the sturdy walls I've built over the past few years and zone out into the vacant emptiness that is my life. I love my boys and would do anything for them, but I know I won't find any happiness of my own other than raising them. There's no marriage or doting fathers in my future. No happy endings or one true love. All I can hope is to raise the twins to be more successful in life than I was. At least they can't get knocked up. It's easier for them to have sex in a secret room with a girl and then just walk away, never to be heard from again. Or at least not until years later.
"You two finished?" I ask as soon as Noah and Riley clean their plates. They’re so full they even pass on dessert. "What do you say we go watch some cartoons before getting ready for bed?"
"Yay!" They cheer simultaneously, so I herd them down the hall to the sitting room, as far away as possible from the happy couple.
After the bedtime routine knocks them out, I'm not exactly surprised when Eric's not waiting for me in my room, just disappointed. Heath hasn't appeared, either.
I change into my pajamas and start to climb into bed alone, but I can't. I want Eric to own up to what he's doing and tell me where this leaves us. Are we done and over? Does he want me to hurry up and get out of his house, so that I don't interfere with their wedding plans?
I hate not knowing, and I also need to ask Eric about this weekend. I get up and head down the hall, swearing to myself that I'm not just being nosy. Seeking him out isn’t to see if he's with that bitch. Nope, definitely not.
I walk toward his office and decide to peek inside since the light floods out into the dark hallway that's lined with several men in fatigues. And there he is, sitting on a couch over in the corner, reading.
"Hey," he says when he looks up and sees me. His blue eyes seem tired, the heavy lids trying to lower on their own.
"Hey."
"You okay?" he asks, setting the worn tome he was reading down on the cushion beside him.
"I'm fine. I, um, had a favor to ask. I hate to bother you-"
"What is it, Hope?" he interrupts me with a smile.
"The boys' birthday is coming up this Saturday, and um, they really want to get out of here. I was wondering if you think it'd be safe for me to leave just for a few hours, so I can take them to an arcade in Greensboro or to the zoo in Asheboro or something."
"No, it's not safe," he says right away.
"Oh. Okay, well I guess I can just make them a cake here-"
"I meant it's not safe on your own, but I'll take you, along with several guards."
"No, I don't want to inconvenience you or any of them..."
"We're going out for their birthday. They'll be what, four? It's an important day for them, so let's go spend the day at the zoo."
"That's too much trouble-"
"Hope? Stop arguing. You're not going to change my mind on this."
I bite my lip when it trembles, thinking that for the first time the boys will get to see their father on their birthday. Not that I can tell them or him the truth, but I'll know, and it means a lot to me, especially since it'll probably be the only birthday he ever shares with them.
"What was it like? Carrying them both?" he asks, surprising me out of my melancholy.
"Horrible." I swallow back a sob and then let out a small laugh. "I was huge, and they were rambunctious even then. They never stopped moving or kicking so they kept me up all night."
His blue eyes lower to my now flat stomach like he's imagining me with a big pregnant belly. There were so many times during those months and then the last four years that I thought of him and wished he was there with me and the twins. At night I'd dream he'd find me again and want all three of us. That he'd be happy to find out he’s a father, and would want to be more with me. It was a stupid, naïve fantasy, but it was all that helped me get through the day sometimes, knowing I could be with him and live a perfect, happy life in my dreams.
"They were due at the end of July, but they were born two months early mostly healthy by some miracle, with just low weights and their lungs a little underdeveloped. The doctor's say that's why they both have asthma," I tell him for some rea
son. A part of me does want him to do the math and realize the truth, even though I know it's stupid.
"Maybe you just miscalculated their date of conception," he says dismissively.
"I was only with their father, and it was only one night, so I know when they were conceived," I tell him defensively. I wasn't a slut back then. I'd thought Eric had been careful enough that night but was wrong. After that Halloween, I wasn't with anyone else until after the boys were walking, and the man before Eric, my ex Justin, was weeks earlier and he always used condoms. Riley and Noah are Eric's, without a doubt.
"Their father's missing out," Eric says, stopping my heart.
"It sounds like you're gonna be a husband and father soon. Congratulations," I tell him bitterly.
"Not by choice, but...I have to."
"You don't have to do anything!" I exclaim in frustration.
He can say that shit all he wants, but he doesn't have to marry her. And yeah, I'm pissed because she’s beautiful and classy and I'm sure he wants to be with her. Why wouldn't he? The two of them will have a picture perfect and wonderful marriage.
"Yes, I do have to marry her. People are depending on me. I have to have an heir and I don't have but a few months."
"People are depending on you to reproduce? Sorry, but I just don't buy that."
"I can't explain it to you, but I hope you'll try to understand."
"Right," I say with a huff, turning around to leave before I make a bigger fool of myself. Before I breakdown and tell him the truth for my own selfish reasons. I can't, even if it means losing him for good. I won't let him hurt the boys by up and leaving them like he left me. He'd probably just think it's a ploy to get to his money anyway. I don't want a dime from him. I just want to be able to leave here and keep the twins safe.
"Where are you going?" Eric asks when I'm almost to the doorway.
"To bed."
"Not yet, baby," he says. "I need you. Close the door and then come get on your knees."
