Wicked Burn

by Rebecca Zanetti

  But he liked her strong and pissed. For so long, he’d carried the image of her pale and sad in his mind. From the day he’d broken her heart. The worst day in his entire life, and that said something.

  There was so much blood on his hands, they’d never be clean. He’d chosen his path, and even today, he wondered which moment had tipped his soul into darkness. Was it when he’d turned away from Simone? Or was it the next hour, right after the king had delivered him to demon headquarters?

  Nick leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, forcing himself to face that day. Only by facing the past did he have a chance of remembering to love again. God, he wanted Simone, but how the hell could he find his way back to her?

  Dage had teleported him to demon headquarters, right outside Nick’s rooms. “Jesus,” Nick had muttered, stepping back from the king. “You can come right in past our defenses.”

  “You might want to remember that fact,” Dage said, his silver eyes somber. “I don’t know what Lily told you, but if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me.” He zipped out of sight.

  Nick took a deep breath, went inside to arm himself, and then strode almost casually through the labyrinth of tunnels to reach his uncle’s rooms. It wasn’t too late to turn back. The image of Simone, tears in her eyes as he rejected her, wouldn’t leave his mind.

  He rapped quickly on the stone door and waited for his uncle to bellow permission to enter.

  Turn back. Turn back. Turn back.

  Nick ignored his inner whispers and walked inside his uncle’s main office, instantly assailed by the smell of flowers on fire. Opium. His uncle had made smoking the sweet-smelling stuff a sport.

  “Nicholai.” Uncle Henry stood behind his desk, a map of the new world spread across the stone surface. “I thought you went to Ireland with your tail between your legs.”

  “I changed my mind.” Nick shut the door and crossed the room, bypassing a series of chairs.

  Henry’s gaze narrowed, and shrewd black eyes took his measure. At about seven centuries old, Henry had honed his warrior’s body to pure muscle. His blond hair reached his shoulders, and he’d tied it back with leather. “The witch rejected you, huh?” He threw back his head and laughed.

  “No. I decided it couldn’t work. The witch is too ambitious to be my mate.” Nick reached the desk and surveyed the maps. “What’s this?”

  “New world with a new breed of human females.” Henry smacked his too-red lips together. “Suri and I are thinking about going hunting.”

  They needed laws in place to protect females of all species from demons. “Doesn’t sound like much sport,” Nick murmured.

  Henry shrugged. “’Tisn’t. But the end result is always so much fun.” He reached across the desk and smacked Nick in the arm. “Maybe I’ll go hunt that witch first and show her what a real man can do.”

  Nick’s stomach rolled. “I don’t think so.” He grabbed Henry’s arm, yanked, and pulled his uncle right over the desk. The demon weighed a ton, but gravity helped.

  Henry hit the floor, rolled, and came up swinging.

  The first hit to the face nearly knocked Nick across the desk. Pain exploded as his cheekbone cracked. He countered with a punch to Henry’s nose. Blood sprayed.

  Henry roared and yanked a razor-sharp knife from his back, swinging for Nick’s neck. “You bastard,” Henry hissed.

  “Not really. Mum and Pops were married,” Nick countered, slashing across Henry’s forearm. His parents had died during the last war, as had many demons. Heat filled him along with purpose. Now he was committed, like it or not.

  Henry snarled and tackled Nick, taking him down. His head bounced against rock, and stars flashed behind his eyes. Twisting his body, Simone in his head, he slammed his knife up and into Henry’s throat.

  Henry’s eyes widened, and blood gurgled from his mouth. Angling to the side, he shoved his knife between Nick’s ribs.

  Agony ripped through Nick’s body. “Fuck.” Drawing on a darkness he hadn’t realized lived inside him, he shoved harder until the hilt of his knife rested against Henry’s neck. Pushing up, Nick reversed their positions, twisting and slashing until Henry’s head rolled away from his massive body.

  Oh God. Nick turned and puked. Then, wearily, his soul actually slipping away, he stood and wiped the knife off on his pants. Coldness settled down his body.

  He staggered toward Henry’s head and grasped it by the hair. His stomach rolled. What had he done?

  This would either work or get him killed, and right now, he wasn’t sure of the better outcome. The walk through tunnels to Suri’s office took an eternity, and he left droplets of blood the entire way. He shoved open the rock door without knocking.

  Suri looked up from his desk. He was centuries old but appeared about twenty; the only sign of his true age was an ancient glint in his eyes. “What the hell?”

  Nick strode inside and dropped Henry’s head on the desk. The neck impacted first with an odd squishing sound. It would take time and terrible deeds to gain Suri’s full trust, but now Nick was committed. God help him. “I think you have an opening in your organization.”

  Nick was yanked back to the present day as the door opened. He returned from the past to see Simone sauntering in to sit on a thousand-year-old sofa against the rock wall, her green velvet skirt topped by a classic bustier lined with diamonds. She’d pulled her hair up with a fine ribbon, revealing her smooth neck and pounding pulse. A ruby choker, one probably worth millions, glowed against her pale skin.

  He cleared his throat, trying to banish the darkness from the past. “I figured you’d go for a modern pencil skirt and blouse to face the accusations.”

  Her gaze, dark and feminine, moved to his as she opened a ledger on her lap. “I have more power in this outfit.”

  Yes, yes, she did. The woman wore beauty as a shield and wielded it like a knife. He’d always respected her for the gift and for never trying to be anything but who she was . . . a stunning, brilliant, vain, independent, sarcastic, loyal witch. There weren’t enough adjectives in the universe to truly describe her. “We haven’t had a chance to discuss the bomb you dropped on me earlier.”

  “Now isn’t the time, Nicholai,” she murmured, her hands flattened on the ledger. She drew a pen from her pocket to make notations.

  “What are you doing?”

  She glanced up, her eyes refocusing. “We’ve been working on an economical package to assist younger witches wishing to attend human universities. The humans have discovered new advances in science that we can use.” Her eyes gleamed. The woman loved strategy and, well, money. He’d always known that.

  “You’re working.” The woman was about to face serious legal charges, and she was working?

  “Of course.” She frowned. “I have to get this finished.”

  Oh, first they were going to talk, damn it. How in the hell could she and Bear be siblings? The only way would be for them to share a father. Was Simone part bear shifter?

  The door opened, and a guard shoved Bear inside.

  “Where’s Tori Monzelle?” Simone asked, half-rising and setting the ledger on the sofa.

  Bear shrugged. “Dunno.”

  Simone sat back down and swallowed. “They won’t hurt her.” Doubt infused her tone.

  Bear had changed into pressed black slacks with a bourbon-colored button-down shirt that matched his eyes. An aqua-colored tie hung from his right pocket. “I jumped into the shower, and they took my jeans.” He sounded more bewildered than angry.

  “One must dress to meet the fucking Coven Nine,” Nick ground out, looking down at his pressed black pants and shirt with matching tie. “Whoever chose the clothes lacks imagination.”

  Bear lifted prominent eyebrows. “Huh. Well, I got blue and light brown. Maybe they went on personality. The all black?” He pointed to Nick’s form. “Demon, I guess. Cranky demon.”

  The damn bear couldn’t even speak in complete sentences. Rather, he chose not
to. Nick set his hands in his pockets as casually as possible to prevent himself from going for the shifter’s throat. “Want to tell me how this all came out?”

  Bear crossed the room to drop into one of two chairs aligned at a ninety-degree angle from the sofa. A marble table was set before him. He looked around the otherwise bare room. “No weapons here.”

  Nick had already scoped out the room. “None.”

  Bear appeared to be bored beyond belief, but a tension emanated from him that nearly choked the entire room. “Why don’t you sit down, demon?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what has you so upset, shifter?” Nick returned evenly.

  Bear kicked back and slammed his boots on the table. “I don’t like Ireland.”

  Nick barely kept from wincing as the priceless table cracked. “Everyone likes Ireland. It’s green and cheerful.” He tried to read the thoughts of the two immortals, but both could keep him out. “Somebody needs to explain the familial connection,” he muttered.

  Simone stiffened and swung her gaze to Nick. “The story isn’t that long. My mother had a one-night stand with Bear’s father, who seemed to have a gift of procreation without mating.”

  Nick blinked. “The bear shifter wasn’t mated to either of your mothers?”

  “Nope,” Bear said. “Talented asshole, right?”

  Incredibly rare, actually. Nick shook his head. “How long have you two known?”

  “About a hundred years.” Bear shook out his leg in the pressed pants.

  Ouch. Simone hadn’t even thought of confiding in him, but it wasn’t like he could blame her. “Where’s your father now?” Nick asked.

  “Dead,” Bear said simply.

  Okay. So many questions. Nick frowned. “How did your father keep Simone’s lineage a secret? It’s nearly impossible these days.”

  “He was great with secrets.” Bear plucked at a loose string on his pants.

  Nick slipped his thumbs in his pockets. “What aren’t you two telling me? How did your father die?” Something wasn’t quite adding up.

  Simone shook her head. “He died so far in the past, let’s let him rest.”

  “I investigated for years, but never found the truth.” Bear scratched his head, ruffling his thick hair. The scent of a lie filled the room.

  Nick cut Simone a hard look, and she pressed her lips together. “Zaychik moy? Come on. Give me the truth.”

  Her eyes darkened. “He was a real dick who showed up and tried to kidnap me shortly after you deserted me. I ended up killing him.” Her hands visibly shook on the ledger.

  Instinct whipped through Nick like nails. “Wait a minute. When?”

  “In my place about a century ago.” She shrugged.

  Oh God. “Broken window, blood on floor, huge guy with a green gun?” Nick’s gaze narrowed as his mind clicked facts into place.

  Bear jerked his head around. “How did you know that?”

  “I was the one who killed him.” Nick leaned back, awareness rushing into him. “I knew Simone was in danger, I showed up, and I saw him shoot you. I killed him, thinking he was an assassin targeting the Nine.”

  Simone blinked and shook her head. “What the hell are you pulling?”

  “Nothing. The timing is right.” Shit. He’d killed their father.

  Bear shook his head. “You’re a damn liar, demon.”

  Anger swelled in Nick. He was many things, tons of them bad, but not a liar. “Whether Simone likes it or not, she and I have a connection that was never quite severed. I felt her in danger and had a friend teleport me to Ireland.” They’d only just broken up, and he’d still been able to sense her emotions. Or perhaps fate had been helping him out. Who knew?

  “Bullshit,” Bear said, while Simone looked on with widening eyes.

  The damn shifter was about two seconds from getting his head torn off his body. “I heard a fight and rushed in just as Simone went down. So I killed the attacker.”

  Simone slowly shook her head. “I know I passed out, but I still thought—”

  “No,” Nick said gently.

  Fire lashed through her eyes. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “I had to get out of there before the Enforcers showed up.” Nick winced. “I didn’t think it mattered.” Sometimes he forgot that not everyone lived with so much blood on their hands. He had just killed his uncle, along with several of his uncle’s backers, and one more hadn’t made an impression. Maybe he’d been doomed from that point, anyway. “I kept in touch with the Nine afterward, and no announcement was ever made, so I figured the Enforcers had taken care of the entire issue.”

  “Unbelievable,” Bear muttered.

  “Sorry, Bear. What did you do next?” Nick asked, his mind reeling.

  “I got on with life with the bear shifters.” Bear rolled his neck. “It wasn’t like Roman and I were close.”

  Roman? Their father had been named Roman. “I’m sorry,” Nick whispered.

  Sympathy glimmered in Simone’s eyes for the briefest of seconds before it was banished. Her gaze swung to Nick.

  He gave a barely perceptible nod. Although he’d been there to defend Simone against her father’s attempt to kidnap her, probably nobody had defended Bear in his childhood. “Your father, ah, raised you?”

  “Yep.” Bear stood and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I want my jeans back.”

  “I’ll make sure they’re returned to you,” Simone said softly.

  Nick eyed Bear. “Your mother?”

  “Um, a bear shifter who didn’t live through childbirth,” Bear returned. “They weren’t mated.”

  How very odd. Nick rocked back on his heels. While it wasn’t unheard of for an immortal to impregnate someone without a mating bond, it was extremely rare. To be able to do so with two different females, of different species, was impossible. “That’s amazing.”

  “The old man was one of a kind,” Bear said, turning to study a Brenna Dunne oil painting on the far wall.

  Land mine there. Something told Nick that Bear wasn’t being completely forthcoming, but Nick couldn’t exactly blame him. He cleared his throat, watching carefully for Bear to lose it. “You mentioned you have enemies other than the Nine in Ireland. Who?”

  Bear shook his head, his gaze almost haunted. “Not talkin’ about it.”

  Fine. “What contract with the Nine were you talking about when we were in the plane earlier?”

  Bear slowly turned, his eyes seeming darker than usual. Much darker. “When the truth came out about Simone being part shifter, I signed a contract with the Coven Nine, or rather, her mama, that I would never reveal Simone’s lineage, and that I’d get the hell out of Ireland.”

  Nick shook his head. The damn witches, their egos, and their dangerous ambitions. Maybe it had been a mistake to encourage Simone to follow hers. Look where it had gotten her. “Let me guess. If you reveal the truth, or if you set foot in Ireland, you forfeit everything you have?”

  “Yep,” Bear said.

  “Figures.” Nick glanced at Simone. “Vivienne wanted me to sign such a contract when Simone and I, ah, decided to break up. I said no.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm dripping from his words.

  Simone rolled her eyes. “Yeah. We broke up. Asshole.”

  He deserved that, but now, something different glimmered in her eyes. Would the fact that he’d saved her life soften her toward him? God, he hoped so. “I guess Viv’s plan for you to mate with a full-bred witch and not one of us mongrels hasn’t come to fruition?” Nick kept his voice level, but bitterness still ate through him.

  Bear snorted. “You ended it because of Viv?”

  “No. I had a job to do that didn’t allow any entanglements, and I truly thought it was for Simone’s best,” Nick said.

  “You fucking prick,” Simone spat. “Nobody protects me for my own good. We are so done.”

  Nick turned and met her gaze evenly, feeling hope for the first time in way too long. They’d both been through rough times, but
maybe this was their reward. Perhaps, just perhaps, fate was rewarding him with a second chance. “We are by no means over,” he murmured.

  The clouds disappeared from Bear’s eyes. “You’re not over?” His entire body visibly relaxed. Then he threw back his head and laughed, long and loud.

  Chapter 6

  The door opened, and a soldier gestured toward Simone. “Ms. Brightston? It’s time for you to face the Coven Nine.”

  “Councilwoman Brightston,” Nick said evenly, stepping in front of her.

  The soldier flushed. “My apologies, Councilwoman. It’s time to meet the members.”

  “I am one of the members of the Coven Nine.” She stood, her chin high.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The soldier stepped back.

  Both Nick and Bear moved into motion, and the soldier shook his head. “Ms. Brightston alone.”

  “No.” Nick stepped in front of her. “Pursuant to Coven Law, Title Eighteen, Section Four, Subsection D, Councilwoman Brightston is allowed a representative at the reading of any charges. I’m her representative.”

  Simone paused. “You’ve been studying Coven law?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “I figured it would come in handy at some point. Look. It has.” He turned back to face the guard.

  The guard sputtered and then drew his shoulders up. “You’re a demon.”

  “No shit.” Nick planted both hands on his hips. “Nowhere in the Coven laws does it specify that only witches can serve as representatives. So get the hell out of my way before I melt your small brain out of your ears.”

  Simone cleared her throat. “Nick, I can handle this.”

  “You’re not handling this on your own.” He didn’t bother to look over his shoulder this time.

  “I agree,” Bear said, moving to her side.

  Okay, that wouldn’t work. She patted his arm. “Both of you need to butt out.”

  Nick turned then, facing her fully and ignoring the guard. “We can do this the easy way or my way, woman.”

  Fire gathered inside her. Damn it. She had to stay calm, and right now, Nick was as solid as a brick wall. She couldn’t go through him. “Excuse me?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.