Prim and Proper Fate (Twisted Fate Series Book 2)

by Tami Lund

  Lucky Chala.

  The plane landed without incident, other than Brandon’s insistence on whispering suggestions as to what they could do together when they found a few moments alone, and Prim nearly bolted from her seat in an effort to get away from him. She was half-afraid she’d try to drag him into the nearest utility closet and once again have her way. Unfortunately, she knew damn well he wouldn’t protest. Brandon was making his opinions on the situation abundantly clear: he wanted her, he assumed (correctly) she wanted him, and as far as he was concerned, they should act on their mutual desire. Soon. Often.

  How was she supposed to resist that?

  Apparently, sex was good for Brandon’s disposition. He didn’t complain once when they stood at the luggage carousel, watching the plethora of bags go round and round. He checked the voicemail on his cell phone while they waited for Prim’s luggage.

  “One from Killian, wanting to know if we’ve seen Lily,” he said, arching his eyebrows.

  She thinned her lips and said nothing. She was furious with the Fate for daring to take advantage of her Chala. In desperation, when she’d finally given in to Brandon, William, and Sydney, and agreed to help find Gavin, she’d taken Killian into Lily’s wing of her home and shown him the secret she’d kept hidden for all these years.

  “A Chala?” he’d whispered, staring at the woman’s porcelain doll features, the elegant curve of her neck, the smooth, sun-darkened skin exposed beyond the hem of her dress. Whether by accident or not, Lily had turned into a slightly shorter version of Prim herself. She should have known better than to leave the most precious person in her world in Killian’s care.

  “How old is she?” he’d asked, speaking as though Lily were not perfectly capable of talking for herself.

  “She will be one hundred seventy-one on her next birthday. When I found her, I truly believed she was the last Chala on earth.”

  “The First doesn’t know about her.” It had been a statement, not a question.

  “No. Her mother was a Chala. They were under attack. She knew she was going to die. She gave Lily to me and asked me to save her. She wasn’t even mine.” Lily had stood silently through the explanation, through Killian’s blatant perusal of her person. Prim could tell she was annoyed, but she had taught the Chala well. Manners were important, regardless of the situation. She had grown into such a lovely, respectable, intelligent young, albeit old, lady. Prim had never been so proud of any of her Chala as she was of Lily.

  “Those shifters don’t know.” Another statement from Killian.

  “No. No one does, except my servants, who were sworn to secrecy when we moved here. And now you. I trust you will not make the First aware.”

  She should have known better than to trust Killian. He had released Gavin from his curse, after all. But she’d never dreamed he would try to sleep with Lily. Fates and shifters did not usually couple. It wasn’t exactly against the rules, it simply . . . didn’t happen. She stole a glance at Brandon and she couldn’t come up with a good reason why that would be so. Shifters, or at least this particular one, were so . . . delicious.

  “Here’s Gaya,” he said, and he handed the phone to Prim. She listened to Gaya recite their location and then gave Brandon his phone.

  He listened to the third voicemail. “Quentin,” he said. “Sounds like Gavin knows Sydney’s not in Detroit anymore.” He deleted the message and slipped his phone into his pocket. “We need to get to your Chala and make sure she and Sydney are both under wraps. The connection between Sydney and Gavin makes me nervous.”

  “Lily and Gaya are downtown. Right on Bourbon Street. I’m not sure how in the world they finagled that.” Prim distractedly nibbled on her thumbnail. She would not relax until she could see with her own eyes that Lily was not harmed.

  “I get the impression Gaya can finagle almost anything,” Brandon replied.

  Prim gave him a swift look. “Anything?”

  Brandon laughed and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Almost anything,” he assured her. “Honey, no one can finagle that from me anymore. I’m all yours.”

  Prim cleared her throat and felt a flush creep up her cheeks. She hadn’t meant for him to become . . . all hers. As much as she liked the sound of that, it wasn’t so. He was Lily’s.

  Chapter 10

  “Oh my Fates.” Prim made it as far as the small entry to the upper level apartment before she froze in shock.

  “Prim!” A dark-haired flurry of excitement flung herself into Prim’s arms, and she was squeezed until she involuntarily squeaked.

  “Lily.” She was unable to hide her relief at seeing her Chala alive and well. She smoothed her hand over Lily’s wild, curly hair and took in the strands of plastic beads around her neck. She wore a short khaki skirt that did an excellent job of showing off her shapely legs, and a tight black T-shirt with the words ‘Mardi Gras’ scrawled across the front in green, gold, and purple font, mostly hidden by the pile of beads around her neck. In the short time Prim had been away, her Chala had turned into seemingly an entirely different person. Gone was her elegant, timeless beauty, her quiet demeanor, her unspoken charm. At the moment, she appeared to be no more than a college student, experiencing the thrill of Mardi Gras for the first time.

  “What in the world did you do to yourself?” Prim blurted.

  Lily grinned and stepped out of her embrace. “You like it? Gaya helped me pick it out. And the beads, aren’t they just divine? I can’t believe I’ve caught so many already.”

  “I can,” Prim murmured. “And I absolutely do not approve.” Nor did she wish for Brandon to meet Lily for the first time under such circumstances. She wished she could spirit her Chala into a bedroom and give her a complete makeover. Unfortunately, Brandon stood directly behind her, and as she had no idea where they were or who owned this prime real estate in the French Quarter, she figured it was not appropriate to commandeer a bedroom for her own selfish purposes. Reluctantly, she wrapped an arm around Lily’s shoulders and turned her to face her future mate, ignoring the sour taste in her own mouth.

  “Lily Gallow, I’d like you to meet Brandon Haines. He is a—”

  “Oh Fates! Are you a Chala, too? Ohmigod! Prim told me there are only two of us left in the world. Can you believe it? Do you feel the pressure? Sometimes, I get stressed out thinking about it. That’s a lot of expectation, don’t you think? Ohmigod, it’s so nice to meet you!” Lily completely ignored Brandon and rushed to Sydney, pulling her into a hug worthy of lifelong friends who had been separated for far too long.

  Sydney smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Actually, I’ve been led to believe I was the only Chala in the world, until just a few hours ago.” She cut her gaze to Prim, and Prim felt a stab of guilt.

  Sydney had taken the news surprisingly well, given that Prim had nearly come between she and Gavin a month ago, when she’d informed Sydney that it was impossible for her to procreate with her dark lover. If Prim had pointed out that she had another Chala tucked away on an island in the middle of the ocean, Sydney and Gavin wouldn’t have gone through the anguish of feeling as if they had to choose between the future of their pack and their own true love.

  “Prim has a bit of an overprotective streak,” Lily commented airily. “I’m sure she had all of our best interests at heart.”

  “Well, certainly yours,” William commented as he pushed his way into the apartment. “Hi, Lily. I’m William. I’m a Fate, like Prim. Sydney’s my Chala.”

  Lily’s eyes widened as she took in William’s appearance. He wore one of his regular wigs, the long, dark-haired one with bangs that, when matched with the appropriate outfit, made him look like a fifties housewife with far too large shoulders. Today was not one of those times, however. The stretchy gold dress that accentuated every muscle and every bulge, including the one that people who wore dresses
normally didn’t have, instead helped ensure he fit in on Bourbon Street more readily than any of the others in their small party.

  “Oh-h I love those beads,” William chortled as he fingered a strand of plastic pineapples draped around Lily’s neck.

  Lily grinned and slipped them off her neck and onto his. “They’re yours. And you don’t even have to do anything to earn them,” she said with a wink. William appeared delighted.

  “What do you mean by that?” Prim demanded. She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips and waited for Lily to explain. “And where in the world is Gaya?”

  “Er . . . Ah . . . Right . . .” Lily fidgeted, looking utterly guilty.

  “What is going on? Tell me. Now.”

  “Prim! You’re here. Lily, I told you to shout when they arrived,” Gaya admonished, stumbling into the room. Her normally smooth brown hair was disheveled, her lipstick smeared, and as she hurried toward them, she hastily buttoned her shirt. She wore a single strand of fake pearls around her neck. Each pearl was the size of a golf ball.

  “Gaya? What is going on?”

  Before Gaya could answer, a string of human men staggered into the room behind her. Each one had a bemused look on his face and was in a state of half-dress. Prim counted four men.

  Four?

  “Hey, more guests!” One man’s gaze focused long enough to sweep over the entourage of non-humans who had entered the apartment. “Zack,” he shouted over his shoulder. “I think they brought one for you. No need to drag us into the red light district now. That’s Zack,” he said, pointing at the one man in the group who did not look as if he’d been attacked by a mad dog.

  Prim had a sinking suspicion she knew who the mad dog was. She grabbed Gaya’s arm in one hand and Lily’s in the other and dragged them through a living room that was full of entirely too much antique furniture and into a kitchen with surprisingly new stainless steel appliances.

  “Explain,” she demanded, once they were alone. Well, not entirely alone, she realized, as Brandon slipped into the room and stood unobtrusively near the doorway. Well, he wasn’t exactly unobtrusive, at least not to her. She was as aware of his presence as she was aware of her own body. Probably because her body craved his presence more than it craved food.

  “You told me to find a hotel and get her tucked away as quickly as possible,” Gaya said defensively.

  “This doesn’t look like a hotel to me.” Prim’s voice had dropped into the frigid zone. She rarely took this tone with her staff, but then again, it was rarely necessary, as until now, they had all been secured on an island in the middle of the ocean and this sort of situation hadn’t been possible.

  Gaya had the grace to look abashed. “No, it isn’t,” she admitted. “But there weren’t any hotels. I tried. I called all the way up to Baton Rouge. It’s Mardi Gras weekend, and we’re in Louisiana.”

  “So how did this happen?” Prim asked, waving her arm to encompass the small, yet tidy kitchen.

  Gaya and Lily exchanged guilty looks. “We met them at the airport,” Gaya explained. “I, uh . . . I . . .” She cleared her throat and a touch of defiance came into her eye.

  “I enthralled them to convince them to bring us here.”

  “You . . . what?” Prim asked, incredulous.

  Gaya nodded firmly. “They were flirting with us, bragging about the flat they had, right on Bourbon Street, right in the middle of the action. Lily’s never been to Mardi Gras before, and I haven’t been to a proper Carnival in centuries, and . . .” She shrugged helplessly.

  “They don’t appear to be enthralled anymore,” Prim commented.

  Gaya flushed. “No. You know it only lasts for a few hours. But honestly, they don’t mind us staying with them. And I told them Lily was off-limits. And Zack was feeling really left out, so now that William is here, everyone will be happy. And we can enjoy Mardi Gras from the safety of the balcony. It’ll be great! It’ll—”

  Prim cut her off. “We aren’t here to enjoy Mardi Gras, Gaya. We shouldn’t be here in the first place. If you hadn’t taken her off the island—” This time, Lily cut her off.

  “Oh Prim, please don’t make me go back! The island is nice, but it’s so lonely. And if Killian is still there, I refuse to go back anyway. He’s horrid, Prim. He even treated me like a servant, and the things he said to me . . .”

  Prim felt anger flood her system, and it took her several moments to realize it wasn’t all her own. She stole a glance in Brandon’s direction and saw that he was watching Lily intently, his face contorted in anger. Already he’d become protective of her, and they hadn’t even said two words to each other. Good. I hope.

  “He suggested he and I and Lily have group sex,” Gaya supplied helpfully. She didn’t sound particularly put off by the suggestion, but then again, Prim was well aware of Gaya’s very broad attitude toward sex.

  The only thing that had held her back, undoubtedly, was the fact that Lily was to be saved for her Light One mate. That had been Prim’s directive. It hadn’t necessarily been intentional at first, but after nearly two hundred years on an island with no male companionship except two brownies who had not expressed any remote interest in Lily, it had eventually become the logical decision in Prim’s mind. And much to Prim’s undying relief, Gaya had taken that responsibility seriously.

  “That bastard has no right to call himself a Fate,” Brandon said with a growl in his voice. He stepped forward until he was next to Prim. An act of solidarity. It was nice, the way he always seemed to know what she needed. It occurred to her that when Lily and Brandon mated, she would be forced to give both of them up. The thought did not sit well. She wondered if she would be able to convince Brandon to move to their remote island home. Perhaps she could arrange to have red meat delivered regularly. It would be bittersweet, watching them together, but it would be better than not having either of them in her life at all.

  William appeared in the entry to the kitchen. His wig was askew and there was a giant red lipstick stain on his cheek. He looked positively giddy.

  “I forgot how fabulous Mardi Gras is,” he declared gleefully. A pair of beads dangled from his neck and hung to his bellybutton. They were purple and green, with a gold medallion hanging from the bottom. They dwarfed the pineapple beads Lily had given him.

  “William, we can’t stay,” Prim said in alarm. “What about Sydney?”

  William’s face fell.

  Brandon blew out a sigh. “I’ll go talk to her.”

  An hour later, Brandon had taken the decision out of Prim’s hands in an effort to help relax the on-edge Fate. He could almost literally feel her stress, and while he didn’t particularly like feeling so uptight, he wanted to help Prim. He didn’t analyze why he felt so strongly. He simply decided to do what he could to take care of her. Apparently she wasn’t the only one with something of a mothering instinct.

  The humans seemed genuinely pleased with their company, and although it would be a tight fit, they were more than happy to let the small group spend the night. Lily, Gaya, and William were utterly delighted.

  Sydney seemed reserved and sad, but she admitted that Brandon was right when he pointed out it would be much easier to get out of the city in the morning. He also pointed out the plethora of humans and who knew what else prowling the streets of New Orleans at the moment would likely mask her scent. So long as they stayed in the apartment or on the balcony, he saw no reason why they could not enjoy the parades and revelers as they traipsed past.

  “We’ll get him back,” he promised Sydney, pulling her into his arms and giving her a warm hug. He almost chuckled at the surge of jealousy he felt radiating off Prim.

  No worries, sweetheart. It’s just a hug. I want to do a lot more with you. A lot more.

  Sydney sniffled and wiped her eyes and told him she believed him. Then s
he went to join her Fate and the others out on the balcony.

  Which left him alone with Prim.

  She kept stealing covert glances at the balcony as she wrung her hands nervously. Brandon stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “She’s fine,” he murmured as he buried his face in her sweet smelling hair. Magnolias. He officially loved the scent of magnolias. “We’re safe enough for the moment. Come on.” He tugged her hand and led her toward the bedroom where Gaya and her entourage had been when they arrived earlier.

  Prim stopped in her tracks. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking advantage of the few moments we have alone.”

  “Are you suggesting we have sex? Now? Here?”

  “Well, not here, precisely. But in there? Yes.” He pointed at the closed door.

  “Brandon, we can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “What about Lily?”

  “Unlike Gaya, I’m not really into group sex, so no thanks.” He headed toward the bedroom again. Prim pulled him up short again.

  “I wasn’t suggesting we have group sex,” she blustered indignantly.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m suggesting we not have sex at all.”

  Brandon froze, and then very deliberately turned to face her. “Why not?”

  She sighed. “Brandon, we can’t. We shouldn’t. It isn’t right. It isn’t appropriate. We—”

  “Did I mistake the signs when you shoved your hand into my pants on that plane?” he asked, his frustration surging. He had been so damn sure she felt the same way he did. Had his missed his mark when he guessed she wasn’t a casual fling sort of woman? “Did I mistake the signs when you came about five seconds after I shoved it into you? Was I—”