“So, Doyle’s resting,” I said, parsing out the words while I tried to figure this out.
Next to me, Justin sighed.
I shot him a murderous glare.
He lifted his hands. The silver in his sleeves looked tarnished, dull.
Be quiet, I said, focusing my thoughts, my emotions as hard and loud as I could. I didn’t know if he’d pick them up without me touching him, but he ought to pick up on some of that.
“Something…weird…happened,” I finally said, slumping in my seat as exhaustion crept in.
“Weirder than…what? You using a gun to take out a vase? Or the evil bitch?” A sly smile lit Damon’s face. “Although, kitten, I didn’t realize you had such a thing against interior decorating.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Why don’t you just ask what you need to ask?”
“Who was Doyle’s mother?”
“We don’t know.” Damon shrugged, his eyes darkened to almost black. “She left Doyle’s dad. Nobody ever saw her after she took off.”
“Actually…” Chang spoke up, drawing my eyes to him. “Few people saw her before she took off. Doyle’s father, Malcolm, was rarely seen anywhere with her. She was…shy, I’ve heard. Once the baby was born, she stayed long enough to wean him, then she left.”
“She just abandoned him?”
Damon shrugged. “Not unheard of with half-breed kids, baby girl,” he said, his voice low and edgy. “After about a month or so, the shifter parent can tell if the gene is going to be recessive or not. The kid may never shift but it becomes pretty damn obvious if the child will be more...or less…human. She probably looked at Doyle one day and decided she didn’t want see him coughing up hairballs.”
I had a dagger buried in the surface of the table before I realized I’d drawn it.
Next to me, Justin went still.
Chang’s eyes were cautious.
But Damon just smiled. “Why so angry, kitten?”
“How long have you known?” I demanded, forcing the question out.
His lashes swept down low, shielding his eyes.
He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face and then looked up at Chang. “Chang and I…we always knew something was different on him. We didn’t know what it was, though.”
“When did you know?” I shouted.
“The day Harry Potter brought you back from Wolf Haven,” Damon said, his voice flat, level. “It was after you’d been attacked—you had that big bite taken out of you.”
The day he’d marked me…
I tensed. Against my will, I reached up and brushed my hand down my neck, feeling the ridge of the scar.
I saw Damon move but I couldn’t get away fast enough as he came across the table, landing on the balls of his feet in a crouch just in front of me. Body bent in a position no human could hold, he put his face in mine. “No,” he murmured. He reached up and covered the bite with his palm. “It had nothing to do with Doyle. Everything that ever happened with us is just because of us. Nothing else.”
“You sure about that?”
He brushed his thumb against my lower lip. “Never been more certain of anything. And I’ll keep waiting until you’re ready.”
With a whisper of sound and a sigh, he was gone, moving back into his seat and it was like that moment had never happened.
Chang cleared his throat. In his smooth, perfect voice, he said, “There was an…incident. Sam took it upon herself to try and discipline Doyle and he was bloodied. Nothing major, but the scent of his blood…and yours. Too much alike.”
“He’s got aneira blood,” Justin muttered.
“You just now figuring that out, Harry Potter?” Damon curled his lip.
Justin flipped him off.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Two days later, I stood in my apartment and realized I’d come to a decision.
Or maybe the decision had been made a while ago. I couldn’t go back to Wolf Haven. TJ and Justin were right—I wasn’t made for standing behind a bar. There was only one thing I was really good at.
So I guess that meant I was back in business.
But first, I had to attend to a personal matter.
If life hadn’t kicked me in the face, I would have done it months ago. Now, though, thanks to TJ, I finally felt strong enough. All because she’d kicked me in the butt. Again.
Her voice, so sad and gentle, echoed in memory.
Kit, you’re stronger than I am. Please don’t turn into me. Don’t let him win like this.
There were much, much worse things, in my mind, than being like her. She’d been the first person to show me any real kindness. The first to care about me. She had given me my first real home and whenever things were really bad and I needed to hide, needed to get away from anything and everything, she would always have a place for me.
She had been there for me after a monster had broken me, and then, when the time was right, she’d forced me to face myself.
It was time to pay that kindness back…and take down the monster who had broken her.
It was something she wouldn’t be able to do. I knew that. TJ was a mean, smart bitch, but the wolf in her was weak and if she wanted to face down the monster who had hurt her, she’d have to be a dominant. A leopard couldn’t change its spots and a wolf couldn’t go from beta to alpha. It just didn’t happen.
But I could kill that son of a bitch for her.
Well, as long as I had some back-up with me…and I knew just the right people for the job.
I gathered up the weapons I needed. Justin had already re-keyed the spells that protected the darker weapons I owned. Death was back in his place. He had other names, but Death was the one he answered to. He didn’t care what the legends called him; he didn’t care what history called him. He cared about death, blood and chaos…and even now, I could hear him whispering to me. The power of his magic was too strong and until I had a better grip on myself, he was off limits.
He’d almost gotten too deeply inside me. It was fear, I suspected, that let him root so deeply within me.
He hadn’t even been the equalizing force, really. Not with Pandora. It had been a gun. A modern weapon to kill an ancient. Maybe I needed to start showing those modern weapons a bit more respect. And it was time to start trusting myself more, as well.
On my way out the door, I grabbed my phone and dialed a number.
Goliath’s voice was a deep, bass rumble and just hearing him made me smile.
I’d been wanting to do this for a long, long time.
* * * *
The next call I made was to Justin. I needed to restock on my ammo and he had the best suppliers around. Plus, I wanted to see if he was interested in joining Goliath and me on our little road trip.
He absolutely did. We made our plans. We were heading out in the morning. Goliath would get a few more wolves lined up to take with us and I’d make another call or two.
Goliath was also going to need to figure out what to tell TJ. He had to disappear for a day or two. She couldn’t know. Not yet.
We’d tell her…after.
I had one stop to make before heading to Wolf Haven.
This time, I didn’t even need to distract myself as I drove to the Lair.
Parking my battered car into my spot in front of the Lair, I climbed out. Silence fell as I drew near, but it didn’t last long.
No massive tiger came running out to greet me.
He’d have to stay in one form or the other for a few days, Ella had said. And rest. He needed a lot of rest.
But I wasn’t here to see Doyle.
I wasn’t even here to see Damon.
Which was good…he wasn’t on the grounds. He would have met me and I wasn’t ready to see him. Not yet.
A few people glanced at me. One or two even half-smiled as I made my way to Damon’s quarters.
That familiar scent wrapped around me as I slid inside.
I lingered by the
bed after I’d left my message. Because I missed it so much, I caught one of his pillows, lifted it to my face, breathed it in. I was tempted to steal away with it, but I had at least some pride.
Forcing myself to put the pillow down, I moved away from the bed and headed to the door. Once there, I paused and looked back, my vision narrowing in on the note I’d pinned to his headboard with one of my daggers.
Subtle. That was me.
The message itself was simple, but he’d get the point.
Keep waiting. I’m getting closer.
For the first time in what seemed like a long, long time, the scars and shadows weren’t choking me…and I had a job to do. I turned around and walked away.
About J.C. Daniels
J.C. Daniels is the pen name of author Shiloh Walker. Shiloh/J.C has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing just about every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes urban fantasy and erotic under the pen name J.C. Daniels and romantic suspense and contemporary romance as Shiloh Walker.
Read more about Shiloh & J.C. at www.shilohwalker.com
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