MacRieve (Immortals After Dark) (36 page)

Some part of him would resent his mate for eternity, blaming her for things she’d had no part in, blaming her whenever she needed to feed.

My will is no’ my own.

He heard her scurrying to the shower. It sounded like she was frantically scrubbing herself. Not a good sign. And he thought . . . he thought he heard her
crying
, the sound echoing in the shower stall.

Just as Ruelle had made him cry during his first time, so Will had made Chloe.

She’d never spilled a tear in all those soccer clips, had never cried from his many insults.
I’m the villain. Slaoightear.
As Munro had warned.

How horrifying for her to be taken by the beast. While Will had experienced unequaled pleasure. Another remarkable milestone for an ancient immortal.

Yet I’m no’ sated.
Already he wanted her again. Her strew must linger.

Another throat-burning chug. He sank down in one of the chairs before the waning fire, staring at the embers. He didn’t
want
to hate her; she didn’t deserve it.

So what to bloody do? Mayhap he needed to talk to someone. Naturally, his first impulse was to call his twin—but Munro would just rail over Will’s treatment of his
deirfiúr.
So Will collected his sat-phone from the bag he’d left in the great room and dialed Nïx, having no expectation that she’d answer.

She picked up almost immediately: “Are you calling about the ad?”

“Ad?”

“For the gently used Bentley for sale. It has
zero
miles!”

Well, that explained the backward driving. “It’s me, MacRieve.”

“
You-lamey!
How good to hear from you! Scotland must be beautiful. I’m currently out with Mariketa, Regin, and Carrow. We’re doing rescue work.”

He swigged, not even surprised she knew his location. “Aye, collecting Order orphans. Malkom Slaine told me.” In the background, Will heard what sounded like a multitude of bairns spatting—demonic wails, baby roars and hisses—and what he thought might be a van rocking on its shocks.

Nïx said, “I’m nodding. We’ve gathered demonlings, ankle-biters, and a couple of centaur foals, just to name a few.”

“I need your help, soothsayer. You and I—we’ve definitely rebroken that bone, aye?” he said, his bitterness undisguised. “Yet it’s still no’ right. I’ve bollixed this up with my mate.”

“I know,” she said sadly.

“I doona want to treat her this way.” He began to pace. “How do I keep myself from hating her just for what she is?”

“Why don’t you work on her hatred of you?” Nïx asked. “Win her and perhaps
you
can be won over.”

“How?”

“Lykae can be so smooth—charming tricksters who cajole what they want.
Woo
her, wolf.”

“I doona believe she can be won by me.” Just saying those words brought on a swell of despair.

“You haven’t exactly made it easy for her.”

The back of his neck heated. So Nïx had seen what he’d done to Chloe?

“Yes, I see all, wolf. And by
all
—”

“You mean
some.
If you saw enough, then you ken why she will no’ want me again. My beast came out in full force. It was no’ gentle.”

“You need to talk to her, confide in her. Tell her what happened to you.”

“Never.” For Will—a Lykae male from a warrior clan and a line of Sentinels—the only thing worse than being . . . molested by Ruelle for four years would be to admit it to his mate.

How could he even introduce the topic?
We need to talk about why I subconsciously despise you. When I came, you see, your last greedy pull harkened back to a time when my seed was taken by one of your ilk.

Because my disgust ruled me tonight, I withheld my claiming bite from you.

The sounds of the bairns’ tiff grew louder, the rocking more pronounced.

Nïx told Will, “Lovely. Demonling horns just punctured the roof of our rental vehicle. Hold, please.” Then to the children, she said, “I
told
you
Bertil would bite if you pull his legs. Now, cut out that caterwauling or Auntie Nïxie will eviscerate you.”

Will thought he heard the witch Mariketa saying brightly, “Ha-ha. Auntie Nïxie meant to say ‘no ice cream.’ ” Then Mariketa snorted. “You might have overcommitted on younglings, Regin.”

The Valkyrie Regin answered, “Dude. Don’t you judge me. And where’s the fucking fire extinguisher?”

“I’ve returned,” Nïx said in a dry tone. “You have much to resolve for yourself, wolf. Don’t make me regret placing Chloe in your care.”

“Why did you? You’re the one who told the witches about her, are you no’? To get her to the auction? If you could find her, then you can find Webb.” At least he’d gotten some measure of revenge against the man—Webb’s daughter had just been defiled by a Lykae beast.

He winced at his thoughts.
You sick prick, that’s your
mate
you’re gloating over!
He clasped his forehead, squeezing till he thought his skull would cave in.

“Webb has a role to play with the Bringers of Doom; he’s not to be touched,” Nïx said. “And I helped you because I trusted that you would find your feet with this.”

“What if I canna?”

“Do you know what’s so strange,
Uilleam
?” she asked, saying his name perfectly. “You have never, in your entire life, done something for which you should truly be ashamed. You think you have, but you haven’t. Not until you hurt your own mate, blaming the poor girl for things she can’t control.”

His mouth went dry. “Will she change?” When Nïx didn’t answer, he said, “She has spirit and courage. Will she change to become like Ruelle?”

“No. But you won’t know that because she’ll be gone.”

His legs felt weak. “Nïx? No!” He sank back against the wall.

“Mark my words, wolf: bury your past, or it will bury you.” Click.

THIRTY-SEVEN

An hour after his call with Nïx, Will found Chloe sitting on the floor in the pantry, trying to choke down an apple.

Whiskey bottle in hand, he sank down beside her, tugging the apple from her. “That time has passed for you, lass. Never to return.”

Her eyes were puffy from crying, her nose red, but luckily no more tears fell. The mere idea of her crying had gutted him. To
see
her tears . . .

I could no’ stand it.

“I can still drink.” She reached for his bottle, swigged heartily, gasped.

“Aye, but you canna eat food.”

“I can do a liquid diet. Or what about an IV? Something surgical?” With a
eureka!
expression, she cried, “Artificial insemination!”

Her panic set him on edge. She was this desperate because she’d hated sex with him. Yet another unsatisfied succubus. “Or mayhap you can do as nature intended you to. Your face has healed, your color’s returned.”

When he reached for the bottle, she absently relinquished it. “Nature didn’t intend for sex to be humiliating like that. Some parts were unbearable.”

Unbearable? Her words gave him chills. Any male, in a potentially eternal relationship, would react thus.
My mate hates sex.
He had no call
to expect different, but still he said, “It was no’
that
bad. You got to feed. And I dinna mean to humiliate you.” Surely, he hadn’t.
Slaoightear,
his conscience whispered. “You will no’ have pain next time. Things will go better between us.”

“Next time? Are you listening to me at all?”

Probably not an ideal moment to remind her about the full moon in two nights. His beast would be even more powerful. If Will hadn’t built up her strength by then . . .

“Th-there’s got to be a way for me to forgo sex. If those witches can camouflage me, maybe they can fix me.”

Fix? She felt broken.
Because of me.

Ruelle used to blame all her failings on him; had he done the same with Chloe? He cleared his throat. “Mayhap you’re no’ the one who’s broken.” Other males would easily love her. If he hadn’t been twisted by a succubus, he would have lost his heart to the lass beside him.

“Not broken?” she cried. “Now you’re going to screw with my head? To survive in the Lore, I’m supposed to drug and rape men? You think I don’t know how wrong that is?”

He’d never expected her to
agree
with him about the nature of succubae.

“When I started changing, my dad abandoned me. Remember? You were quick to remind me of that. You relished telling all of the Lore how he discarded me like trash.” Her eyes watered. “Not to mention how
you’ve
reacted to my change.”

“Chloe—”

“I lost
everything
that day. My career, my remaining family, my friends, my team. You were the only constant in my crazy life. But you did a total one-eighty, bullying and insulting me. You had to get Sheen-wasted tonight to take me to bed.” Gazing up at the ceiling, she murmured, “I can’t believe my first lover
vomited
after being with me.”

Will scrubbed his hand over his face, embarrassment scalding him. “Your first lover and your
last.
And he will no’ do so next time.”

She faced him with an incredulous expression. “You can’t control your reaction to me—any more than you can your beast.”

“You’ll get used to that part of me. You’ll have to. It’s inseparable from who I am, like a soul. I can understand why you might hate my beast, but you should no’ blame it, for it does no’ reason.”

“You think that’s the problem? At least the beast looked at me with yearning, with desire. It’s
you
that’s the problem.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your beast has accepted me; you never will, and unfortunately
you come back.
If I ever have sex again, I don’t want to open my eyes to see your back as you beat feet for the toilet.”

Could this get any more shaming?

“And I might not have any experience, but I know what whiskey dick is.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“MacRieve junior took a tee-oh right before the beast substituted in.”

Aye, it
can
get more shaming.
He drank deep. “Chloe, just know this. Sex for me is . . . complicated.”

She turned to him with owl eyes.
“Noooo.”

“Aye, smart-arse. It has no’ always been pleasant or rewarding. Mayhap I thought of a past time. Mayhap it affected me.”

“Then tell me about the past time.”

“All you need to know is that I’m working through it. It will no’ factor in the future.”

“You’re right about that.” When she snapped her fingers for the bottle, he handed it over, watched her take a healthy gulp. “Because I will never have sex with you again!”

He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, lass, you’re a cambion. If you refuse to feed, I doona know what will happen to you.”

Against the rim of the bottle, she murmured, “Maybe I’ll die, and you’ll be off the hook.”

When Nïx had said Chloe would be gone, had the soothsayer meant
gone, as in
left
? Or gone, as in . . .
lost
? His chest constricted, strangling his breaths for an entirely different reason.

“Whiskey,” he bit out.

Frowning, she handed it to him. There they sat, passing the bottle, holed up together on the floor in the goddamned pantry. “You think I could be off the hook if my mate died?” He repeated her words: “Have you been listening to me at all?”

“Oh, yeah, because you think you’d have to follow me. But never fear, I’m sure that only applies to
beloved
mates. Since you hate me, you should get a pass.”

“You belong with me,” he said simply.

“Tell me why I should stay. Why shouldn’t I run, now that I’m healed?”

His lips drew back from his fangs. “Because I will catch you.”

“Ugh—you could not suck worse!” She was shaking beside him, her body filled with fury.

Wrong. Everything’s wrong.
He pulled on the collar of his loose T-shirt, puzzled by how tight it felt around his neck.
All my fault.

“You know, sometimes I do this thing where I assess my life’s field position, getting a lay of where I am,” she said. “I’ve been in this pantry, evaluating my field position, the most important one of my life.”

“And what have you determined?”

“That we can never be happy together. So it’s in your best interest to cut ties with me.” He opened his mouth to tell her that wouldn’t be happening, but she continued, “Don’t worry, I don’t
expect
you to let me go. Because you’re not a fair man.”

No, he wasn’t. So why did her words sting so badly?

“In that case, what do you plan to do with me? Keep me here, isolated until I go crazy?” She met his gaze. “You can keep me here for centuries, and at the first opportunity, I will blaze. Do you understand me? I will always look for a way out—because you will never change.”

“You speak of change as if it’s easy! I’m nine centuries old! I doona alter my course so easily as you might.”

“At least it’s possible for you—I
can’t
change. Ever. I can accept your
beast, but you can’t accept things in me that I can’t control?” She squeezed her temples. “And not only that, you’re constantly treating me with scorn, making me feel like shit about myself!” Her irises glowed green with anguish. “I can’t sit around here and let you convince me that I’m nothing but an evil, worthless succubus. I
won’t
do that.”