“Just lay it all out for me, Khristos. What kind of enemies do you have? What have you gotten me involved in?” I ask with calm resignation. It's getting to be a common occurrence having new information dumped on me. I’m also to the point where nothing shocks me anymore. Either I'm growing numb to it, or I'm getting used to the craziness that seems to surround the Deveroux's.
“I have several businesses. Two of which bring...many complications,” Khristos says steadily.
“What are these businesses?”
His jaw tightens ever so slightly. “I was hoping you'd get to know me before finding out. I'd prefer you base your opinion on me and not what I am involved in.”
That sounds very cryptic and not good at all. Whatever he’s involved in, I’m one hundred percent sure that I’m not going to like it. “Tonight changes things,” I say pointedly. “If I would have known I was in danger, I would have stuck around Cherry Creek. You never said anything to me, and tonight could have been prevented if you had. How can I protect myself if I don't know what I'm up against?”
“You're right,” he concedes. “I failed you tonight, but I won't ever again. I give you my word.”
“Your word doesn't mean much to me at this point.”
He nods his acceptance. “As to be expected. You are nothing like I thought you'd be, Livvy.” Approval shines in his eyes. “You will thrive in this world.”
“Not if I die first,” I say dryly.
“It'll never happen,” he says as his face hardens with anger.
“You brought me here. Now arm me with information so that I don't come close to death a third time.”
“Very well. One of my businesses is an escort service,” he tells me bluntly while he pushes his sleeves up his forearms as if he’s ready to wage some type of battle.
“Escort service?” I echo. “You mean like prostitution?”
“Yes. Now before you start making assumptions, hear me out,” he warns.
My uncle's a pimp. Okay, I didn’t think anything could shock me anymore, but that's certainly enough to throw me off again. Khristos is a frickin' pimp.
“Livvy,” Khristos cuts in sharply.
I blink and look at him. “What?”
“Before you start thinking the worst, listen to my reasoning,” he says deliberately.
I can't help but cross my arms over my chest defensively. “You sell women for sex. What's your reason?” I ask coolly.
He sighs as he leans back in his chair, his expression one of exasperation. “Everything with you is always much more difficult than I originally expect.”
For some reason, that makes me feel good to hear. I arch an eyebrow at him. “You bring it on yourself. I used to be very mild tempered until you brought me here.”
“It's the succubus genes. A succubus can be very temperamental. Especially when she needs to feed. Now, back to the subject at hand. I run a high-end escort service. Men and women will pay more than you would think to have their fantasy fulfilled, and it's a very lucrative business. All the women—and a few men that work for me—are there of their own free will. They get to feed and live a life of luxury. It benefits everyone involved. A succubus or incubus can have any career they wish if they put in the time and effort. However, the business of selling sex will always be there, always thriving. They make much more than they would with your average career. Many people fly into town just to get a taste of what my business can offer. Many come back more than once. Unless they are human. That can be a bit tricky,” he admits.
“What about when these women want out of the business?” I demand.
“They can quit. I don't control them, Livvy. All my women are quite independent.”
“So, how does running an escort service make enemies?” I ask.
Khristos gives me an unblinking stare. “Think about it, Livvy. I can provide anyone with any fantasy they wish, because all my employees shift. You have no idea how much money the escort service brings in alone. With as many people that visit my escorts, don't you think their spouses or mates would be furious if they found out? There are plenty of supernaturals in the town that use the services I offer. Marriages have failed, and matings have disintegrated because of it,” he explains.
“Do you even care?”
“Quite frankly, no. I don't force anyone to cheat. They do it of their own free will. But I still get people that hold a grudge. It's a minor irritation, but once in a while someone goes too far.”
“I get the feeling that tonight was more than just a bitter spouse,” I say a bit sarcastically.
Khristos’s eyes turn to stone, and he says grimly, “They were demons.”
“Demons,” I say softly. “And they wanted to kill me?” Not good, not good, not good, a little voice in my head repeats over and over. I’ve grown slightly accustomed to thinking of the Deveroux’s as demons, but to know that other demons are after me? It’s alarming.
“Not right away. But eventually, yes,” he says with cutting directness.
“To get back at you?” I ask, needing clarification.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He holds my gaze. “Because I’m sure I killed someone they cared about.”
I'm silent as I gaze at him with comprehending horror. “You kill people?”
“Perhaps not by my hand, but there's a company I run that deals with tracking certain...types of people down and eliminating them. Permanently,” he says tactfully.
My lips part. “Are you telling me you employ assassins?”
He looks at me steadily. “Yes. We do all kinds of business; assassinations, kidnapping, recon work, you name it. However,” he says deliberately, “we investigate our targets first to make sure that they are not innocents. Our targets are always guilty of the crime they are accused of.”
“So that makes it okay?” I ask incredulously as my nails bite into my palms. Fierce resentment is beginning to wash over me in waves. I’m in this mess because of him.
“Yes,” Khristos says without a hint of remorse.
“Oh my God,” I mutter as I rise to my feet and begin to pace his office. It's impossible to sit still after hearing that my uncle is involved in prostitution and now assassination. This just keeps getting worse and worse.
“I know it sounds bad—”
“You think?” I interject as I spare him a disgusted glance.
He sighs, not bothering to rise to his feet to come to me. “We go after the bad guys, Livvy. We don't touch the good.”
“But you still kill,” I point out as I keep pacing, and I can’t help but rub my arms, which have goose bumps scattering along them now.
“When the job asks for it, yes.”
I pause and place my hands on my hips as I gaze at him accusingly. “And if the job includes torture, do you do that as well?”
“Yes.”
“Rape?”
His lips tighten as his eyes narrow on me. “Really, Livvy. Now I'm getting offended.”
“Oh, I see. So you'll kill someone, but rape is going too far?” I ask scornfully.
“Nobody in my employ has ever raped a woman,” he says coolly as his eyes begin to reflect growing anger.
I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. This man should scare me, but for some reason, I've never felt fear around him. I don't know how I know that he won't hurt me, but I just know. No matter how far I push, he won't lay a finger on me. “I want the truth. Did you kill my mom?”
Exasperation flickers across his face. “Haven't we been over this already?”
“I just found out you employ a bunch of hit men. Yes, we have to have this conversation again.”
“I have not touched your mother. I will swear this to you on Roman's life. She's alive and well,” he says as a muscle ticks in his jaw.
“You can't know that for sure. And how am I supposed to believe you?”
“I know exactly where she is,” he tells me bluntly.
“You do?” I ask as my heart skip
s a beat.
He studies me closely. “Yes. She was very predictable and easy to find. It didn't even take me twenty-four hours to locate her.”
I want to believe him, but I don't. “You are a pimp and a killer, Khristos. I don't trust you. At all.”
He goes still as a stature, his eyes burning into mine. “I am not a pimp. I don't consider myself a killer, either. Do me the courtesy of keeping your offensive name calling to yourself,” he says as his lip curls with disapproval before he reaches for his phone on his desk and presses a button. The speaker turns on, and I hear him dialing a number.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a frown. Have I pushed him too far and now he's getting one of his men to escort me out of his office? Why not just ask me to leave?
Khristos put the phone back in the cradle as a phone rings on the other line through the speaker. He meets my questioning look. “I am proving myself to you.”
I stare at him with confusion until a feminine voice picks up on the other line. “Hello?”
“Mom?” I demand immediately as soon as I recognize her voice. I move closer to the desk, eyes focused intently on the phone.
“Livvy? Hi... I'm uh, surprised to hear from you. How are you?” she asks tentatively.
The awkwardness in her voice is like a punch to the gut, and I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Are you okay?” I ask, unable to hold back my concern.
“I'm fine. How are you settling in?”
I glance at Khristos, who sits in his chair looking quite relaxed. “It's been interesting,” I say cautiously, and I spy his lip quirking in the corner. I know what he's thinking, and I'd have to agree with him. Interesting is quite the understatement. “Where are you Mom?”
Khristos clears his throat loudly, cutting into the conversation. “Did you have any problems cashing your check, Caroline?” he asks deliberately, his eyes now watching my reaction.
I look away as I wait for her response.
“No,” she says softly. “Livvy, I can explain, sweetie—”
Khristos disconnects the call before she can finish her sentence.
“Hey!” I protest as I lunge for the phone.
His hand settles on it, and he gives me a look. “As I said before, you deserve better. All she would have done was hurt you further if I'd let the conversation continue.”
“I grew up with her. If I want to speak with her, I should be able to,” I argue darkly.
“I won't allow it. You have enough to deal with. Once things settle down, I'll make sure you can speak with her again. For now, she's better left forgotten.”
“I'm going to find her Khristos. And when I'm eighteen, I'll be a legal adult. I don't care what I am, I will be old enough to move out and be on my own. You may be my uncle, but that doesn't mean you can control me.”
“That's where you're wrong. I am not your uncle, Livvy. I am your father,” he says simply as his eyes burn into me.
“Right,” I say sarcastically.
“Why do you think I've been watching you? All your life I've had someone watching over you, waiting to see if I would have to bring you into my world. When you turned seventeen, I made the final decision to let you go, to let you live your life safely as a human without having the Deveroux name haunting you at every turn.” His face twists with emotion. “There are days where I wish that humanity for you. I wish you wouldn't have changed so that you could live a happy and safe life far away from my world. But then there are other days that I am thankful you're now a part of my world. I won't have to watch my only daughter die of old age. I won't have to mourn the loss of a child that I never really knew. I now have the chance to get to know you, Livvy. Hate me all you want, but I will protect you, and that means never letting you go. You are now a Deveroux. I brought you into my world and claimed you as my daughter. There is no going back. If you leave, tonight will happen again, only this time they will kill you. I won't allow it.”
I promptly sit down in the chair across from his desk as I stare at him numbly. I hadn't believed him at first, but as I search his face, I see nothing but the truth. “You should have left me back in Missouri,” I say hoarsely.
“You would have died eventually, and you know it.”
Khristos Deveroux is my father? Unbelievable. My eyes slowly roam over his face, taking in his youthful appearance. This man—who looks no older than twenty-nine at the most—is my father. How the hell do you swallow that pill?
“This isn't how I wanted to tell you,” he says quietly as regret shines in his navy eyes.
“Why are you just now telling me this? Why not tell me earlier?”
“I was afraid you’d run. That it would be too much at once, and I’d mess things up beyond repair. Seems to me I’ve accomplished the same end result, regardless of my best intentions.” His eyes hold mine. “I knew finding out you’re a succubus would be difficult for you. I had planned on waiting until you adjusted and were comfortable with your place in the supernatural community. Now that an attack has been made against you, I need you to see the truth. You need to understand where you belong. As far as the humans are concerned, I am still your uncle. But those that are part of our world, they will know you as my daughter, Livia Deveroux.” A look of determination flickers in his eyes. “Tonight will not happen again.”
Rebellion unfurls in my gut. “Call me whatever you want, but that doesn't make me yours. Not where it matters the most.”
Khristos smiles slightly, but it’s downright chilling. “I see you've inherited my stubbornness.”
“You have nothing to do with it.”
“We'll see.”
I rise to my feet. “I think I've had enough. It's late,” I say simply as I turn and walk out of his office without a backward glance.
As I make my way up to my room, I don't know what to wrap my mind around first. The fact that Khristos runs and escort service, or the fact that he's a cold-blooded killer. Or how about the fact that he's my father? It's just so much to take in, and I feel my temples beginning to pound.
When I come upon my closed bedroom door, I see the light is on from beneath the crack at the bottom. Had I left it on? I cautiously turn the knob and open the door.
Trace looks up from where he'd been peering out my balcony door window. His eyes take in my expression, and he begins to walk over. I close the door behind me and practically fling myself at him as I wrap my arms tightly around his waist. My face presses against his chest, and I struggle for composure.
Trace holds me close, and I feel him kiss the top of my head. “I knew you'd react like this.”
I fight back the urge to cry. It won’t do anything but give me a headache, and it’ll fix absolutely nothing. “I don't know what to think,” I mumble against his shirt. “How do I come to terms with it all? I mean, demons want to kill me because of my uncle—I mean, my father. He also told me he runs an organization of assassins. Not only that, I find out he sells prostitutes, too!” I feel myself getting angry. I pull back and look up at Trace. “What the hell am I supposed to do with all this information? I'm still struggling with the fact that I'm a succubus. Now, I have a father that wants to control me.” Bitterness rises from within the depths of my soul as I realize just how little control I have over my circumstances. “He doesn't know me,” I seethe. “He knows nothing about who I am or what makes me the person I am today. All he cares about is labeling me and controlling me. I can see it in his eyes, Trace. He—” My rant is cut short as Trace's mouth crashes down on mine.
For a second, I do absolutely nothing as his lips dance across mine, demanding a response. The anger I'd felt moments ago fades immediately as I part my lips and give him access to delve inside. He strokes my tongue with his own, and I let my hands roam over his shoulders. His fingers tangle in my hair as he holds my head in place, kissing me with a passion that has my lower belly tightening. There's a part of me that wants to lose myself in him. To experience the pleasure I know he can give me. But there's just been too m
uch upheaval to contend with tonight. I don't know how my brain can still function, but common sense has me ending the kiss and pulling away. Trace reluctantly lets me go, his chest rising and falling as he stares at me with heated eyes.
I lick my damp lips, and his eyes drop to focus on them before lifting to meet my own. “We can't,” I say softly.
Frustration shines in his eyes. “I know,” he says with a sigh. “I just wanted to comfort you.” Then, he hesitates and looks at me searchingly. “You know it's more, don't you? This thing between us.”
“It can't be more.” It kills me to say it, but it's the truth. “You have to feed from other women. Neither of us can commit,” I tell him as my heart aches. “All we can ever be is friends.”
He takes a step toward me, his eyes growing determined. “We can make it work if you just try, Livvy. Sorcha and Khristos have been together on and off for a century. It can work.”
“Yeah, it works if I turn a blind eye to the fact that you will be sleeping with other people. How often do you feed, Trace?” I ask bitterly.
“Once a week,” he admits reluctantly. “But it's just feeding, Livvy. That's all it is,” he insists.
“No. It's more.”
“Not to me.”
“To me it is,” I say firmly.
Disappointment crosses his face. “I thought with you being part succubus, you'd understand. You're the first I've ever wanted to try something real with.”
I give him a pained look. “All you can ever be to me is a friend. If I gave you more, you'd break me every time you go to someone else.”
“But they would mean nothing to me,” he insists as he shifts where he stands, like he’s fighting the urge to touch me.
“Not to me,” I say quietly.
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