I draw my fist back again, only to have it suddenly caught up in a warm hand.
I start slightly, turning around to find Trace. He hasn't been to bed yet, because he's still wearing the jeans and fitted tee-shirt he'd been wearing earlier when he'd carried Nathan out of my room. Only now his dark hair is pulled back in a short ponytail instead of hanging near his shoulders. His eyes scan me from head to toe for a brief moment before his eyes drop to where he still has my fist encased in his hand. He gently releases my hand, only to inspect my raw knuckles. There are a few scrapes, but they aren't bleeding. “Let me see the other one,” he orders. I silently hold it out for his inspection. His eyes lift back to mine with a hint of reproach. “You should be wearing gloves.”
“I don't have any.”
“I'll get you some. C'mon,” he says as he turns and walks towards the gym doorway. My feet follow, and he leads me back to the main room and motions to one of the couches. “Sit.”
The second I sit down, I realize that I feel better. A lot of the anger I'd felt has given way to exhaustion. Pummeling the bag had worn me down.
I look up when Trace walks up to me and holds out two bags of ice. “Leave them on your hands for a bit. It'll help with the swelling.”
I settle the bags on my knuckles and watch as he sits down near me. “I thought you were getting me gloves.”
“We don't have women's gloves here. I'll buy you a pair.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“I think I'll have a better idea of what kind to buy than you would,” he says lightly as he focuses his attention on me. He sits casually, knees spread slightly in typical male fashion.
“You're probably right,” I agree.
“How are you feeling? I mean physically.”
I shrug. “Back to normal, I guess. I was pretty restless earlier, but now I'm feeling tired.”
Trace nods. “When a succubus takes too much, she'll be wired for a bit. Same with an incubus.”
My eyes drop, and I stare at the ice bag that rests on one of my fists. I'm part succubus. I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it.
“Want to talk about it?” Trace asks almost gently.
I glance at him. I don't want to talk about myself, but I do have questions that have been rolling around in my head. “Are there more, uh, succubi and incubi in Cherry Creek?”
“A few. But most are located in the cities.”
“So, if demons exist, what else exists?” I ask cautiously.
“You sure you're ready for that answer?”
I stare at him. “What else is there?”
“I think this is a topic that should be revisited in a few days,” he suggests as he turns his attention on my hand that rests on the couch between us. He lifts the ice bag to inspect my red knuckles.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You have to tell me now. Otherwise, I'll keep wondering until someone tells me. Just dump it on me all at once,” I say bravely. “This way I can deal with it instead of having more things dumped on me at a later date.”
His gray eyes shift back to my face. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”
“Okay,” I say simply as I wait.
He's silent for a moment. “What else are you wondering exists? You ask, and I'll tell you if it does.”
“Vampires?” I ask instantly. It's the first thing that enters my mind.
“Yes.”
My jaw about drops. “Really?”
He nods.
“Werewolves?” I ask faintly.
“Yes. There are different shifters in existence, the werewolves make up only a small portion of them.”
I'm speechless. I've watched plenty of movies with supernatural creatures in them, but I never thought they could be real. Holy... How many have I unwittingly walked past? “I guess witches exist, too,” I murmur. “What about fairies and stuff?”
“The fae exist.”
It's too much at once, and I find that I'm no longer interested in knowing anything else. At least not tonight. I hadn't really expected him to tell me that everything actually exists. I don't know how to accept it all.
“Too much?” Trace asks knowingly.
“Yeah. You were right,” I mutter. My head tilts slightly as I peer at him with interest. “Is it weird working for supernaturals?”
He gives me an odd look. “No.”
Suddenly, I have a bad, bad feeling. “You're not human, are you?”
Something shifts in his gaze, and he observes me intently. “No, I'm not.”
“We've kissed twice, and I never fed off you. Why is that?” I ask cautiously.
“I'm an incubus.”
I quit breathing briefly as it sinks in. He's an incubus? That means... I try to shut down my thoughts, because those are better left until I am alone in the privacy of my room. “I see,” I manage to say lightly as if this news doesn't bother me.
Trace's eyes probe mine. “I wondered when you'd figure it out.”
My eyes drop to the ice bag on my right hand that is beginning to slide off, and I readjust my hand. I don't want to talk about what he is, so I switch the topic. “What does Khristos expect from me?” I turn my head and look at Trace, my eyes searching his.
“Nothing,” he assures. “He just wants you safe.” His eyes narrow as he studies my face. “You're not planning on trying to run, are you?”
“What if I am?” I dare to counter back. The thought has crossed my mind plenty of times tonight, but in the end, I know I need to learn about what I am and how to control it. I can't do that on my own. I'll have to stick around longer.
Trace gives me a warning look. “Don't, Livvy. You have a lot to learn, and you're right where you need to be to learn it all. Running off could harm those around you or yourself. Don't do anything foolish.”
“I don’t plan on it,” I say truthfully At least not at this point. A worrisome thought crosses my mind, and I look at Trace searchingly. “I fed off Brad, and he went crazy. Will he be okay if he wakes up from the coma?” I ask quietly. I'm hoping that the consequences of my actions won't mean a dire future for Brad.
Trace’s silence is my answer, and his expression confirms my worst fear.
My heart drops, and I feel wretched as the reality of what I’d done to Brad sinks in. “What will happen if he wakes up, Trace?” I force myself to ask as I look at him calmly, even though on the inside, misery is slowly burrowing deep inside my chest.
“He'll spend the rest of his life in a mental facility. He won't stop trying to come after you. Ever. It's best if he doesn't ever wake up,” he says gently as he reaches a hand out to me.
I shift out of reach as tears fill my eyes. What have I done?
“Livvy...”
I shake my head and blindly stand up. “Good night, Trace,” I whisper as I turn and rush for the stairs.
***
I'm still weirded out by everything the next morning, but I still have to eat. I skipped almost all my meals yesterday, and my stomach is demanding I fill it. It's early, around six in the morning, and I see that the kitchen is quietly empty. Adelaide hasn't arrived yet. I am grateful for that, because I'm still annoyed that she'd known all this stuff and kept it from me. Of course, with Khristos as her employer, she probably hadn't had a choice.
I rummage around in the refrigerator and find a plate with my name on it. It must be from last night. There’s grilled chicken on the plate along with sautéed vegetables and something else that I don't recognize. I shrug as I pull it out of the refrigerator and peel off the saran wrap. This looks better than toast. Adelaide already warned me there isn’t any dry cereal in the house, and I'm a lousy cook. It’s either toast or last night's supper. I pop the plate in the microwave, and a couple minutes later I sit down in my usual seat to eat.
I can't believe how much my world has been turned upside down in only twenty-four hours. There is so much going on in my mind that I'm having trouble shutting it off. Trace has given me three more new things t
o think about, and the situation with Brad makes me want to cry. There being other supernaturals in town makes me wary, and the fact that Trace is an incubus has my heart aching in ways it shouldn't. Trace feeds through sex, and I am extremely disappointed over this new discovery. I think I’d been beginning to fall for him. I'm hoping I can still manage to be friends with him, though. He'd be a good friend to have, and I need all the friends I can make at this point. Navigating this world all on my own is going to be an issue. It’d be best to surround myself with those that will be willing to help me adjust.
I'm almost finished with my breakfast when I hear someone enter the kitchen. I expect to see Adelaide, but instead it's Roman. He looks sexily rumpled this morning in wrinkled jeans and a tight tee. His feet are bare, and his hair is a bit wilder than normal. I try to ignore the stirrings of heat in my belly. Now that I know that Khristos is an incubus, and so is Roman, I can now understand why I feel an attraction to him.
Anger rises within the depths of my chest as I remember what had gone down at the club and afterwards with Trace. My fork clatters to the plate loudly. “You,” I say accusingly.
He looks at me and arches an eyebrow. “Yes, it's me,” he says as he walks to the refrigerator. “Well, you're still here, so I'm assuming you're handling your newfound succubus status with more grace than when I saw you last.”
“What did you and Tatum do to me at the club?” I demand.
Roman's broad back stiffens, and he stops rifling through the refrigerator contents.
“I wasn't drunk, was I?” I ask knowingly. “I was drugged. You guys drugged me.”
He sighs and steps away from the refrigerator after shutting the door firmly. His eyes meet mine as he admits, “We gave you something to loosen up your inhibitions. Make you...horny, I guess you could say.”
“You asshole!” I explode as I rise to my feet.
“Hey, all we wanted was for you to kiss Nathan. Khristos knew you weren't ready to learn about us, and I told him I'd talk to Nathan, see if he could get you to kiss him. But you kept shooting him down. I was just hoping that you'd kiss him that night and feed without realizing it. It would have given you more time to settle in before you learned everything,” he says defensively.
I glare daggers at him. “What if I'd gone home with a stranger? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me the next morning?”
“I wouldn't have let that happen. I was keeping an eye on you,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares me down.
“Were you?” I ask sarcastically. “Two guys had me cornered at one point, and Trace had to intervene.”
Something akin to embarrassment flickers across his face. “I lost you for a bit,” he says reluctantly. “I assumed you were with Nathan. When he came back alone, I went in search for you, but by that time you were already leaving with Trace. I figured you were bailing for the night.”
“Do you have any idea how bad things would have gotten if Trace hadn't been there? I found those two jerks attractive! They could have held me down and raped me, and I probably would have liked it,” I say furiously. “You don't mess with people like that, Roman! You don't mess with me like that!”
He winces, rubbing the side of his head as my anger finally begins to crack his naturally aloof demeanor. “I get you're mad. I'm sorry we drugged you, okay?”
“No, it's not okay. None of this is okay,” I say flatly as I begin to leave.
“Don't run off, Vee.”
“I have to go to work,” I toss over my shoulder.
Once I'm upstairs in my room, I shower, and then throw on a pair of shorts and some random shirt. I grab my purse and make my way outside to the garage. I had originally planned on going to work, but there's just no way I’d be able to act normal today. Not after everything I've learned.
No one stops me at the garage, so I walk over to my car and climb in. I shake my head as I start the car. I don't have a headache, but I'd rather have the constant dull ache the rest of my life than be a freaking demon.
I pull out of the garage and wonder if the gate will work. Will I be able to leave, or will they think I'm running? As I drive down the driveway, I wait for people to jump out at me, but no one does. The gate opens smoothly when I press the button. Evidently, I'm free to come and go as I please again. Good.
I drive around aimlessly until I come upon a large pond by some farm fields. I pull the car over and walk through the long grass to a tall tree near the pond. After getting comfortable, I pull out my phone and call Selena to let her know I'm 'sick.' After I put the phone back in my purse, I rest my back against the thick trunk of the tree.
A soft breeze brushes across my face and plays with my hair. For the first time since I found out what I am, I feel some semblance of peace. The morning sunlight is warm, and the sereneness of the pond brings a calm to me that feels good.
So, I'm a succubus.
I better get used to it since there's no changing genetics. I am now part of a demon family. Yay me. Not.
I don't know how I'm going to handle this newfound news. It might be easier to accept if I hadn't already sentenced my ex-boyfriend to a future of insanity. Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I draw my knees up to my chest and rest my forehead on my knees. If only I could take back what I did to Brad. I ruined his life. Guilt eats at me, and I know I'll spend the rest of my life paying for what I've done. I should pay for it. It doesn't matter whether I knew what I was or not, I still did it. Brad would be a healthy eighteen-year-old boy right now, probably enjoying the summer by sleeping in late and playing football in the afternoons with his friends. Instead, he's in a coma. Because of me. And if he wakes up, he'll be demanding to see me. He'll want me so bad that he'll kill me to keep me away from anyone else.
I will never forgive Khristos for not figuring things out before it all got out of hand so fast with Brad. The logical part of me knows Khristos couldn't have foreseen any of it, but that doesn't stop me from holding him partially accountable.
The sound of a car driving down the road has me craning my head slightly to see who it is. I recognize the SUV that slows and pulls off the road to park behind my car. It's Trace. I turn back to the pond and stare at it. I'm not sure if I'm peeved that these people can't leave me alone for all of ten minutes or if I'm happy to have someone to talk to.
Footsteps crunch on gravel until the grass cushions his steps. A shadow falls over me. “I thought you might want someone to talk to. If I'm wrong, send me on my way,” I hear Trace say.
I look up at him, and the sun blinds me slightly. I shield my eyes with my hand as I peer up at him. “What are you, my own personal babysitter?”
“Something like that. Should I sit down or leave?” His body language is relaxed as his arms rest along his sides while his legs are slightly braced apart. His hair is down today, and the breeze causes it to stir along his jaw. He looks good today and from my vantage point, he looks even taller and more muscular.
“You can sit.”
He settles on the grass next to me but doesn't say anything as he stretches out his legs. He's content staying silent unless I'm ready to talk.
I regard him silently for a moment before I tilt my head slightly and ask, “You knew, didn't you?”
His eyes flicker to mine. “Knew what?”
“That I was drugged that night.”
His eyes stay on mine. “Yeah. But not until I realized how fast things were progressing. I lost it for a bit, and well, you're very attractive, Livvy. You went straight to my head,” he tells me. “When it sank in that we were going to end up having sex against the wall, I knew something was off. You don't strike me as the type to sleep with someone you barely know.”
I feel my face heat up as I look down at the grass beside me. I pluck a small blade and study it. “I'm not.”
“You seemed desperate, which is when I became suspicious. When I turned on the light, I could tell by your pupils that you were given something. I figured Roman was beh
ind it,” he says dryly.
“I'm so pissed at him right now,” I say with a scowl as I rip the blade into little pieces before plucking my next victim.
“You have every right to be,” he agrees, and the sound of his tone tells me he too is angry with Roman.
I can't resist shooting Trace a look. “So, that early morning meeting in Khristos's office was about me.”
He nods. “I went back to the club and tracked down Roman. He admitted what he'd done, and I felt Khristos should know. You were pretty out of it that night, and I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it in the morning. If you'd be suspicious or if you'd think you'd been drunk.”
“That pill you gave me. What was that?” I ask suspiciously.
“A sedative. You would have had a rough night without it.”
“What do you mean?”
He gives me a deliberate look. “Your body was desperate for something it wasn't getting. You would have had a very miserable night.”
Oh. I look away and frown as I pluck at more grass while avoiding his eyes. “Roman said it was only supposed to make me want to kiss Nathan. Not jump every guy I see,” I mutter.
“When Tatum dosed your drink, she forgot you're not a full succubus. The dose should have been cut in half. Supernaturals tend to need higher doses of medication and whatnot because of our genetics. Human doses aren't enough,” he explains.
“I'm so mad at him,” I say softly as I turn my head and look at him. “I can't believe he did that to me. I feel like all I am to him is someone to play with. He's been like that ever since I got here. He's never serious about anything, and sometimes I think my situation is just a game to him. I'm just there for entertainment purposes when he's bored.”
“No, he's not like that,” Trace disagrees. “Roman comes off as flippant and sometimes unaffected by those around him, but that doesn't mean that's who he is in the inside. He's got a natural flare for humor, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care.” His lip quirks as he smiles slightly at me. “We're guys. We don't wear our feelings on our sleeves, we make people work to drag it out of us.”
Cherry Creek Page 17
