Of Love and Darkness

by Lund, Tami

  “Killian’s back,” Sydney commented, as they watched the Fate climb out of his all-wheel-drive station wagon.

  “Yeah. He brought someone with him. Does that strike you as strange?”

  Gavin caught his first glimpse of sun-streaked chestnut hair and his breath lodged in his throat. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water as he struggled to remember how to breathe again.

  Sydney tried to tug her hand from his grasp. “Gavin, stop. You’re hurting me. Stop squeezing so tightly.”

  With a supreme act of will, he loosened his grip on Sydney’s hand. But he did not let her go. “Come on,” he said, tugging her through the front door and down the stairs. “This isn’t going to be pretty. Let’s meet them out by the car, where there’s some semblance of privacy.”

  He caught a sound that indicated William was warming up the karaoke machine someone had unearthed while they were living at Hilde’s house. That meant William wasn’t aware of this person’s presence. It also meant the music would create a sort of shield, so most of the inhabitants of the house would not hear whatever conversation was about to transpire. Good.

  Killian had gone out in search of Prim for a reason, of that, Gavin had no doubt whatsoever. His suspicions as to the nature of this visit made his heart beat uncomfortably fast and his palm start sweating where it touched Sydney’s skin.

  He focused on Sydney. His anchor. His life. His reason for fighting this damned war.

  Killian walked around to the passenger side of the car and offered his hand to the woman seated there. Prim stepped out of the car like a supermodel stepping onto the red carpet. Her glorious, thick, chestnut hair draped halfway down her back, and was topped with a large, floppy hat tied with a brightly colored ribbon. Her sex-and-candy body was covered by a red sarong dress that stopped four inches above her knees. Strappy red heels were on her feet. Fates weren’t really alive, so temperature fluctuations didn’t particularly bother them.

  Gavin recalled the first time he’d ever met Prim, nearly three hundred years ago. He’d picked up the scent of her Chala and tracked them to a small encampment out West, in what was now California. She’d prepared to do battle to protect her Chala, but Gavin had used an entirely different tactic. Considering the Fate’s beauty, it hadn’t been a hardship.

  And at the moment she succumbed, he pulled out, dashed out the door of the tent, found her Chala crouching behind a pile of rocks, and killed her before Prim had even struggled back into her dress.

  No surprise the Fate held a slight grudge.

  The last time he’d seen Prim, he had killed two of her charges, and had been biding his time, planning to kill the third. Except she’d bested him. Hatred burned through him as he recalled what it had felt like when that curse hit him. It was something he’d never forget, for all of eternity.

  He’d obviously become a better man, with the curse. And without the curse, he never would have met and fallen in love with Sydney—or if he had met her, he would have killed her, instead of deciding to mate with her. He wouldn’t change that for anything, but still he felt the anger swelling, because Prim had taken the choice out of his hands.

  And she’d given him this weight of guilt that never ceased, and that sometimes, he felt as if he might suffocate underneath it. For that, he was not sure he could ever forgive the Fate.

  Gavin suddenly released his hold on Sydney’s hand and gave her a push toward the house. “Maybe it’s best if you stay inside after all.”

  Sydney lifted her eyebrow in that way she had of imitating him without looking stupid doing it, and said, “Why the sudden change in tune? Who is that? An old flame?”

  Gavin felt as if he were strangling on his own laughter. “Hardly. Trust me, our feelings for each other may be mutual, but they are definitely not complimentary. Go inside. Now.”

  He had no idea why he thought she might actually listen to his command. The only time she ever listened to him was out on the practice field, and even then she was beginning to question his authority as she excelled at her fighting techniques far faster than any of the others. Just this afternoon, it occurred to Gavin that the Light Ones had been going about the whole Chala protection thing all wrong. They should have taught the women how to fight, not hide them behind a few Fates and some half-trained shifters. Probably, the population would be thriving right now, instead of in danger of disappearing altogether.

  “Prim?”

  Gavin glanced over his shoulder at the sound of William’s voice. The cross-dressing Fate hesitated in the doorway to Killian’s home.

  “Shit.”

  “Prim?” Sydney repeated the name as she gave Gavin a questioning look.

  William stepped uncertainly off the porch and tottered on pink, high-heeled slippers toward the chestnut-haired woman.

  “William,” Prim’s voice was practically a purr, as she opened her arms and waited for him to walk into her embrace. “As utterly eccentric as ever, I see. The passage of time has certainly made it easier for you to expand your wardrobe, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said shortly. “Why are you here?” His gaze cut back to Sydney and Gavin and then returned to Prim.

  Prim bestowed upon him her glorious, radiant smile and then lifted her gaze, locking it on to Gavin, who stood still as stone, momentarily rendered unable to move.

  “Hey!” Sydney protested, and she grabbed Gavin’s arm and wrenched him out of the spell.

  Prim blinked, a look of annoyance rushing across her face so quickly it could have been nothing more than a trick of the light, and then she focused her attention on Sydney.

  “William’s Chala.” Her voice was breathy. She walked forward, gliding as effortlessly as if she were walking on air. “What a lovely young woman.” She came to a halt directly in front of Sydney, and stood there, studying the Chala’s features rather intently.

  Gavin deliberately stepped between them and Prim lifted her gaze to focus on him once again. “Don’t do it,” he warned her. “This one has her own magic and she isn’t afraid to use it.” He stabbed his thumb over his shoulder, at Sydney.

  “Why in the world would she use her magic against me?” Prim asked innocently.

  “Because she’s my mate,” Gavin retorted. “And she has this crazy overprotective streak. Tends to flare up when people come after me.” His voice held a faint note of taunting that caused Prim to narrow her eyes.

  “You aren’t a Light One,” Prim pointed out very deliberately. “And with one snap of my fingers, that curse is gone and you’re right back where you started.”

  She snapped her fingers and everyone jumped.

  William grabbed her hand and thrust it down to her side, casting a nervous glance in Gavin’s direction. Gavin looked as if he’d like nothing better than to rip Prim’s head from her shoulders. Unfortunately, the only result would be that Prim disappeared, to be regenerated as Fates whose bodies were destroyed did, and then she’d come back, madder than ever. Prim angry was something to behold; Prim furious and holding a grudge . . . well, Gavin already knew what that was like.

  “Prim, darling, that really isn’t necessary. He’s standing much too closely to my Chala, don’t you think?” William’s laugh sounded forced. And nervous.

  Sydney stepped in front of Gavin and glared at Prim. “Don’t you dare take that curse off him. He’s my mate, and unless you want the Light Ones to die out, we need him just the way he is.”

  “Uh, Sydney, that’s not really a good point to bring up right now,” William pointed out, watching Prim warily.

  Prim widened her eyes in feigned surprise. “What in the world does this Rakshasa have to do with repopulating the Light Ones?”

  “It’s time to take her inside, William,” Gavin warned.

  William grabbed Sydney’s arm and tried to drag her back toward
the house.

  Prim grabbed Sydney’s other wrist.

  “Oh no, William, don’t do that. I’m not done conversing with your Chala.”

  “Get her inside. Now.” Gavin’s tone was steel.

  William gave another tug on her arm.

  “Gavin, what is this about?” Sydney asked, her tone belying her worry.

  “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I need you to go inside. Prim and I need to have a private conversation. This is important, Sydney. I need you to—”

  “He’s right, Sydney,” Prim said solemnly. “It’s extremely important. It involves your future. Your pack’s future. Your entire species’ future.”

  “Goddamn it, Prim—”

  “What is it?” Sydney asked, jerking her arm from William’s grasp.

  Gavin gave William a furious look. “You know, for such a big guy, you sure are a wimp.”

  “Anything that involves this pack’s future involves me, too,” Sydney said with a firmness that Gavin knew well. His insides clenched with dread.

  “It certainly does,” Prim agreed. “Since you are the only one who can ensure your pack has a future.”

  Sydney blushed and darted a furtive look at Gavin. He couldn’t fathom why the hell she was blushing.

  “I know, I know. It’s just that with this imminent attack and all, I didn’t want to try to get pregnant right away, in case I need to fight. And frankly, I never really gave motherhood a great deal of thought to begin with, so I was hoping to have a little time to grow into the idea. Plus, Gavin and I haven’t really known each other very long. We still have a few issues we need to work out . . .”

  “We don’t have any issues,” Gavin said indignantly. “What makes you think we have issues?”

  Sydney rolled her eyes. “Really? Do you want to get into this now? Any time I try to talk about this, we end up arguing, and then we end up making up and, well, it just seems like we should have this conversation in private.” She blushed again.

  “Excellent idea.” Gavin grabbed at her arm. “Let’s go inside and talk. Right now.” He tried to turn, but Prim stopped him with one sentence.

  “You certainly do have issues.”

  Sydney turned around, her hackles raised like a dog defending her territory. Appropriate feeling, considering she was surrounded by a pack of shifters.

  “What the hell do you think you know about our issues?” Sydney wanted to know.

  Prim smiled thinly. “Where do I start? There’s the whole Rakshasa-Chala thing.”

  “Gavin isn’t a Rakshasa,” Sydney insisted. “He’s cursed. You cursed him. He’s practically a Light One now.”

  William grabbed Sydney’s other arm, so he and Gavin held her between them. “Time to go,” they both said at the same time. But before they could turn Sydney around and bodily carry her to the house, Prim spoke. And shattered Gavin’s world.

  “Don’t tell me he hasn’t informed you? Why, Sydney, darling, cursed or no, Gavin is still a Rakshasa. And Rakshasa cannot beget Chala. It has never occurred. It goes against the laws of nature. So the choice is yours, Chala. Your species—or your bedmate.” Prim smiled thinly, clearly enjoying the misery etched on to Gavin’s face.

  “You can’t have both.”

  Chapter 15

  “At least she stopped screaming at him.”

  “Probably because she wore herself out or she lost her voice. She’ll sleep for a couple hours and start in on him again, you watch.”

  “Poor Gavin. I wouldn’t want my mate so pissed off at me.” The shifter shuddered in sympathy.

  Someone snorted. “Your ugly ass couldn’t attract a mate if you doused yourself in chocolate syrup.”

  One shifter punched another, and a brief scuffle ensued for a few moments. When they quieted again, someone else asked, “Do you think she’ll forgive him?”

  “What’ll happen to us if she doesn’t?”

  “She’ll forgive me,” Gavin growled as he stalked past the group of shifters huddled together outside, clearly trying to avoid going anywhere near wherever it was Sydney or Gavin happened to be at the moment.

  The last few hours had been nothing short of hell. After Prim dropped her little bombshell, Sydney went into a muted shock . . . until she turned and saw the guilty look on William’s face. Somehow, that triggered her temper, and she turned that temper onto Gavin.

  Prim’s temper had nothing on Sydney’s, Gavin determined several hours later, after he’d been browbeaten into almost wishing the curse was lifted again. Almost.

  She’d blamed him for every injustice that had ever happened in the world. Somehow, hungry kids in Africa became his fault. The poor literacy rates in the country’s elementary schools—his fault. The death of the cat she’d had for her entire childhood—his fault. The fact that her life hadn’t turned out different—namely, in her book, normal—was his fault too. She screamed at him for being too good in bed, for being too charming, too damn nice. She screamed at him for being an asshole, for putting too much cream in her coffee that morning, for always undercooking her steaks, for insisting she take a shower first so she had enough hot water. His fault, his fault, his fault.

  Fates, what hadn’t he done?

  He hadn’t told her the truth, that’s what. That was what it all came down to: he knew the truth, and he’d kept it from her.

  The worst part was: he hadn’t actually known. He’d understood that Chala and Rakshasa couldn’t formally mate. But he’d had no idea he couldn’t impregnate her with a half dozen or so baby Chala.

  He couldn’t fucking win.

  And it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how much he’d understood about the differences between them. He’d known enough, and he hadn’t told her. Even though he’d only been trying to spare her feelings, to keep her from the unbearable guilt, to selfishly keep her to himself because he knew it would rip out his heart to give her up, he still should have told her as much as he did know.

  All that mattered was he’d made the choice for her. He, of all people, should have seen that one coming. Hadn’t Prim done the exact same thing when she cursed him in the first place?

  He strode past the group of shifters, feeling mildly surprised they were all still hanging around, and continued on, searching for Sydney’s Fate. He was nearby. Gavin could feel him.

  He found William leaning against a tree downstream, overlooking the waterfall he’d promised Sydney she would love. A storm was heading in from the northwest. Wind whistled through the trees. The shallow water churned, slate and froth whipping together and beating against the rocks thrusting out here and there. The increased wind steadily pushed the temperature lower.

  “Have you noticed they are all still looking to you for leadership?” William asked when Gavin strode up to the water’s edge. The wind caught William’s skirt and whipped it around his legs, and he reached down and grabbed the material, twisting it in his hand.

  “The only thing I’ve noticed is my life has fallen apart at the seams, and once again, your buddy Prim is to blame.”

  “I am not in any way defending the way Prim handled this situation, however, you could have told Sydney yourself.”

  “I understood we couldn’t formally mate, but I didn’t realize she literally cannot bear Chala if she stays with me.” Gavin kicked a pebble and it bounced along the sandy shoreline until it slammed into a much larger bolder.

  “But you suspected.”

  Gavin didn’t reply. Yes, he’d suspected. Maybe not literally, but he knew there would be implications to his mating with Sydney, and he knew those implications would not favor the Light Ones. Yet he’d been unable to stop himself from falling in love, from craving her more with each passing day.

  “You knew,” Gavin finally said. “But I didn’t see you rushing to break h
er fucking heart.”

  William looked infinitely sad. “No, I wasn’t. Knowing what it would do to her is exactly why I never said anything.”

  “That, and you secretly liked the fact that we were together, because it meant you never had to leave her.”

  William gave him a sharp look. “I had no idea you were quite so perceptive.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  “I know you love her. I know this is killing you.”

  Gavin stared out at the frothing water. I know exactly how you feel, he thought as he watched the liquid swirl round and round, slamming into the rocks, before carrying on down the stream. So angry and no way out.

  “Tell me what to do, William.”

  William blinked at him. “I’m not your Fate.”

  “No,” Gavin said deliberately. “But you are hers. Her protector, and mentor, and best friend. How do I fix this? For her.”

  William shook his head, looking even sadder than before. He wore a curly blond wig today, and the wind twisted the curls into knots. He looked like an overlarge doll, with his tangled curls and hot pink lipstick.

  “I am not those things. Well, okay, I am her Fate. And I suppose, her protector . . . And maybe her mentor. But her best friend? That’s you, dark one.”

  Gavin snorted. “A Chala’s best friend is a Rakshasa. That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”

  “And her mate. An even greater oxymoron, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m pretty sure I no longer qualify for those titles.”