by Diana Seere
“It’s official, then?” Edward said, turning to Derry. “You and Jess?”
Asher’s right eyebrow quirked up.
“You know too?” he asked, the words not quite forming a question.
“I found them in the garage in your—um, uh… in, well…” Edward’s eyes flashed with panic as it became evident to Derry that his little brother knew damn well the consequences of confessing to Asher what Derry and Jess had been doing in his beloved Rolls-Royce.
Asher faced off against Derry, sniffing just once. He must have swallowed the blood.
Derry reeled. Taking on Asher was supposed to be harder than this. Standing up to the person who had controlled him—even out of his presence—for so many years should be more difficult. Had it really been so easy all along, and he hadn’t known?
“Jessica Murphy and I are officially together,” he declared, shoulders squaring, pulling himself to his full, considerable size, towering over both his brothers.
Silence. Asher just stared at him. Edward looked down at the blood on the snow and cringed, eyes jumping between Derry and Asher.
Finally, one corner of Asher’s mouth quirked up.
“That’s not what her mother and sister told me.”
Of all the words that could have poured out of Asher’s mouth, those were the last he expected to hear.
A great numbness seized him, making him close his eyes and take a deep breath, the inhale so long he wondered if he could stretch it beyond eternity.
“What did Lilah and Marilyn say?” Edward asked, too naïve to realize the statement wasn’t open for discussion. Now that he had given Asher an opportunity, of course he would go in for the kill.
Derry and Asher both looked at their youngest brother, who removed himself immediately from the situation, opening the glass door to return to the reception. As the door opened, the cacophony of joyous celebration made Derry’s party heart leap with excitement at the same time that he hunkered down for the fight of his life.
Living in parallel was a given when you were a shifter.
Living two emotional lives simultaneously when it came to Asher was a price too high to pay.
“You really do not understand the gravity of the situation, do you?” Asher said slowly, his voice emerging like cracked ice. He ignored the slow trickle of one drop of blood that made its way from his nostril, pooling at the curve of his upper lip.
“I understand that you hate the fact that anyone else ever finds love.”
Asher’s left eyelid twitched, sunlight pinpointing his pupils, the white shine of light against the new snow making every detail harsher. Starker.
“This has nothing to do with love,” Asher spat.
“This has everything to do with love, you fool.”
The word came out at the end, tacked on like an afterthought, a term Asher had thrown at him hundreds of times in his life. Asher’s face remained impassive, that damned drop of blood cresting over his lip’s edge, now spreading at the crease of his mouth, as if filling in the chasm between them.
“Her humanity is our downfall.”
“What?”
“Humans. You and Gavin fail to understand how much time and effort goes into shielding our kind from humans. How much of my time and effort. While you’re globetrotting on your ‘Around The World in Eighty Women’ tour, I am here at the ranch performing constant damage control.”
Derry bristled at the barb. “I have never jeopardized our kind. Not one woman. I have never revealed the secret. Jess learned from Lilah. Not me.”
Asher’s sigh finally made him crack, his lips licking the blood Derry had elicited, the edges of his teeth glowing pink with a nasty, predatory look that sped up Derry’s pulse rate.
“I know that, McDermott.” Oh. Getting formal now, were we? Derry knew that trick. What would come next? His middle name?
“Then what the hell is wrong with humans?”
“The more they know about us, the more we become their target. Gavin made a mess of secrecy containment with that whole Mason Webb affair.”
The conversation was detouring in directions Derry couldn’t fathom. “What the hell does Mason Webb have to do with my being in love with Jess?” Webb had attacked Lilah last summer right here at the ranch. Gavin had shifted in a moment of protective rage, nearly killing Mason as he saved Lilah from being ravaged by the human piece of excrement.
“Mason Webb is one of many humans who represent a threat to our entire way of life. If he—and others like him—ever find out about the core shifter families, we’ll be destroyed. Hunted. Ferreted out until bloodlines are destroyed.” Asher closed his eyes and sighed, a long, winding sound of deep frustration. “Or worse.”
“Worse? What could be worse?”
Asher’s eyes gleamed with an intensity that made Derry feel two hundred pounds heavier, instantly, the burden so great his knees almost buckled.
“You do not want to know.”
“Of course I want to know. You sound like a raving lunatic, Asher. Are you so desperate to ruin my happiness that you’ll invent stories?” Calling Asher a liar would be tantamount to declaring World War III. He teetered on the edge.
Asher didn’t take the bait. “Stay away from the humans, Derry. Dip your cock into them, take your pleasure, but don’t fall in love. The more humans know about our truths, the more we’re in danger. Falling in love with a human is just bringing us all one step closer to destruction.”
“Gavin can love a human, but I can’t?”
“Gavin is putting us all in danger. I’ve never sanctioned this marriage. In fact, I find the entire production akin to a funeral rather than a celebration of love.”
“You would,” Derry declared, the weight lifting as he realized what Asher was saying. “After all, you loved a human, too. And look what happened. Loving Claire destroyed you.”
It was a relief, really, when his own nose snapped with the pain of Asher’s punch. Bringing up Asher’s late wife, who had died in childbirth before making the shift, taking their babe with her, was a low blow.
But a necessary one.
“Asher!” Sophia’s high-pitched scream flooded his senses as he smelled her, all fire and disdain, the scent of lilies and shrimp mixed with her shower gel and the masculine odor of one of the catering staff ending as his nose filled with nothing but his own blood.
Her hands wrapped around Asher’s forearm, steel against steel, and as the blinding lightning bolt of stinging pain made Derry’s vision warble, he wondered who would win. Asher vs. Sophia.
That would be quite a show.
“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed, chiding Asher, who stared at Derry with deadly force that ought to have moved objects but instead left Derry with a cold, coiled sense that every molecule in the universe had just turned inside out. Blood dripped onto the white shirt of his tuxedo.
Asher shook her off as his head turned slightly left, slightly right, the reproach evident in his eyes. No, he said to Derry.
Just no.
And then he turned on his heel and walked out into the cold, cruel daylight, his shoulders broad and upright, body language clear.
Asher believed he was right.
Derry knew his eldest brother was wrong. And he would prove it.
“Did he hurt you? God, Derry, you’re bleeding everywhere. You always did have lots of nosebleeds when we were kids. You must have blood vessels close to the surface…” Sophia nattered on, reaching into her small clutch purse and pulling out a crumpled cocktail napkin, pressing it against his wet nostril. The words rolled over him like fog coming into a bay.
His mind became a blur.
“What was that all about? Why did Asher punch you in the face? What did you say, Derry? Why would he hit you? I’ve never seen him do that to you. Ever. Even when we were kids I—”
“I punched him first.”
As the words came out of his mouth, mingled with the taste of his own blood, a light snow began. Under different circumstance
s, it would be romantic. It felt ominous now, a chill in the air that brought cover for events better left hidden.
“WHY?” Sophia screamed. “Why would you punch Asher?” Horror filled her features. He knew he was supposed to feel the same, to realize his transgression, but he was hollow. Drained.
Done.
“Because he told me I couldn’t love Jess.”
He had to reach out and grab his sister by the waist, for she reeled back at his words and her heels skittered on the slippery stones. “You what?”
“I love her. She’s the One for me.”
“Oh, Derry.” Tears filled Sophia big brown eyes, and her muscles melted in his hands, going limp and soft, making him hold tighter in protection. She reached for the back of an iron chair and braced herself. “You’re serious.” The soft voice made his jaw loosen. He was rigid, on guard, and ready for battle.
Sophia was joining Derry. Was on his side.
“Yes.”
“You love her that much?”
“Yes.”
“She’s not just a…”
Derry knew what she meant. “A piece of quim, like Asher just said?”
Sophia’s eyes bugged out of her head. “He said that? About Lilah’s sister?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “I see.” He didn’t have to explain.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, slowly coming to his senses. Dazed, he looked around the courtyard, marveling at the beauty. Fat, lazy flakes of snow fell all around, the air changing from an atmosphere of doom to one of intrigue. Of hope.
Of purpose.
“Edward found me. Said you and Asher were fighting. He was practically hyperventilating.” She stood and reached for the napkin he still held to his nose, patting gently. “I can see why.”
“Edward hates conflict.”
“Until this moment, I’d have said the same of you.” Her thick, shapely brows turned downward in question. “I’ve seen you spar with the guys, but this? Derry… what’s happening to you?”
“Love.” It sounded trite, but it was his truth.
“You’re sure?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” he growled.
The tears in her eyes swelled, clear orbs flowing over her lower lashes, unleashed and untamed. “Because I have no idea what you’re feeling right now, and wish I could. How you can love someone so much that you risk everything for them. Is it a good feeling? Is it as wonderful as people say? I always thought it was a myth. Something that humans made up to feel better about their inferior little lives.” Her breath hitched at the end, rendering her unable to speak as a small sob ended her words.
Derry nearly choked.
“Gavin feels it,” he said softly, unable to give her the answers she wanted.
“Gavin’s the exception.”
“Funny. I think I am too. You gather enough exceptions, and you start to have a rule, Sophia.”
Her eyes swam in tears. “You asshole.” Sophia gave him a shaky, genuine smile, her broad face glowing with vicarious happiness even through the crying.
His lip curled up in amusement, making the pain in his nose worse. “I’m an asshole for realizing I’m deeply in love?”
“You’re an asshole for changing, Derry. Don’t change.”
Lilah’s murmured words as she fainted yesterday filled his mind.
“Jess, you can’t. You can’t change.”
He closed his eyes slowly, the falling snow disappearing, felt only on the bones of his cheeks as flakes landed, then melted, turning into a facsimile of tears that matched his twin’s real ones.
“It wasn’t my decision, Sophia. I’ve changed already. I love her. She’s my One. It was never a choice to begin with.”
Chapter 22
Jess drained her wine glass, ignoring her untouched food on her plate, and fixed another fake smile on her face.
Next to Gavin at the long bridal table, Derry’s seat was empty.
He’d completely disappeared. In spite of her pleas, Sophia, sitting to her right, wouldn’t explain, although Jess could tell she knew something. They all seemed to know why he wasn’t there—Edward, Sophia, Asher—but no one said a word to her or made any announcements about the missing best man.
On display at the head table, seated between Lilah and Sophia, she had to pretend that nothing was wrong and she was having a wonderful, beautiful, unforgettable time.
Was it because she hadn’t taken his arm? No, that was ridiculous. Maybe it was something with Asher. He’d been watching them right before Derry went missing. Had the domineering prick said something to drive him away? Was it possible that the fresh bruise on his face was not, as he’d said, from walking into the kitchen door, but from Derry’s fist? Would Derry strike his elder brother?
She picked up her fork and moved the lobster mac and cheese around on her plate, her fake smile softening to a more authentic one.
“The mac had to be your idea,” Jess said to Lilah. She’d always had a thing for mac and cheese. This luxurious version looked delicious, but her stomach was clenched too tightly.
“It was Gavin’s, actually,” Lilah said with a blissful sigh, then leaned back to accept another kiss from her husband while the guests cheered.
A dark idea was nagging at her: maybe Derry had slipped away to have sex with somebody else. That’s certainly what the old Derry would’ve done. Hell, maybe he was in the middle of an orgy with six beautiful movie stars at this very minute, driven to it by the unfamiliar, unbearable trial of being celibate for an entire day.
During another kiss between the bride and groom, Sophia squeezed her hand. The gesture was so uncharacteristic, Jess had thought she’d been trying to grab the breadbasket or take her fork away. Before Jess could respond, Sophia had released her and turned to talk to Molly on her other side.
After a tense eternity, the meal was finally over, and Jess jumped up from the table to go looking for Derry. She didn’t care what she’d find—and she knew it couldn’t be her worst fear, she knew it—but she had to search anyway.
Sophia stopped her with a vise grip on her wrist. “They’re doing the cake.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“He’s giving the toast,” Sophia said, gesturing over Jess’s shoulder.
Standing behind her, appearing out of nowhere at his seat next to Gavin, Derry held a microphone—and his face was as battered as Asher’s. It was impossible that both of them had such terrible luck with the kitchen door, wasn’t it? Hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and eyes shining, Derry now raised a glass and began to give a speech about Gavin’s ugliness as a child, his pathological love of New England football, and his undeserved good fortune in having Lilah ever speak to him, let alone agree to—here he paused suggestively and let the crowd hoot and cheer—marry him.
“Where has he been?” Jess whispered to Sophia.
Sophia simply shook her head
Had he been fighting with Asher because of her? Had Asher found him in an orgy of beautiful, slutty wedding guests? In spite of the angry bruise on his face, he was smiling like the cat with a few gallons of cream—
No, she wouldn’t believe he’d been in any orgies tonight. Given the circumstances, he was rising to the occasion and giving a lively, entertaining toast to the groom, putting on as much of an act as she was. And before…
She’d just have to ask him.
She tried to catch his eye, but he sat down on Gavin’s far side and leaned away. There was cake and more speeches, and finally it was over. The groomsmen and bridesmaids were invited to dance with Gavin and Lilah, the lights dimmed, and the music grew louder and faster. Soon dozens of guests were on their feet, either headed to the dance floor or over to one of the several bars set up around the perimeter of the ballroom.
And Derry had disappeared again. While she’d been distracted by Gavin and Lilah’s first dance, he’d slipped away without a word.
She looked around and found Molly standing next to her chair, hol
ding two delicate glasses and a bottle of Champagne. “Come with me.”
Shaking her head, Jess scanned the room again. “I need to find—”
“He’s not here. I saw him leave.”
“Which way was he walk—”
Molly leaned closer. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I think you should take a minute to think before you do anything.” She straightened, waving the bottle again. “Carl told me this stuff is two thousand bucks a bottle. You and I are going to drink it before anyone else gets it or either one of us does something stupid.”
“But won’t drinking it make it more likely that we would do something stupid?”
“Then we can blame it on the Champagne,” Molly said triumphantly.
Warming to their blossoming friendship, Jess followed Molly out of the ballroom, slowly making their way around the sea of emptying tables and servers with trays of more drink and seconds of cake. In another large room across the hall, they found a spot tucked away in a nook behind a freestanding brick fireplace. They could barely hear the music, just the crackling of the fire and the hum of conversation. Luckily, most people had stayed in the ballroom for the dancing, and Jess felt herself unwinding in the peaceful, quiet spot.
She accepted the first glass of Champagne with a smile. “Thank you so much,” she said, tapping her glass against Molly’s. “I owe you one.”
Grinning, Molly brought her glass to her mouth. “I figure each gulp is about fifty bucks.” After her first sip, she licked her lips. “And worth it,” she added with a sigh.
From the sound of voices, they could hear more guests come into the room, but they were hidden out of sight around the corner of the fireplace. A huge oil painting of a rolling green landscape—England?—hung on the wall behind them. Jess wondered if Derry ever painted landscapes or if he only did women.
She suspected the latter.
“Don’t think about him,” Molly said, elbowing her in the ribs, tightly bound by the bridesmaid dress bodice that Jess would be happy to take off as soon as possible. “At least not when you’re angry. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. He’s crazy about you. Anybody can see that.”
