Belonging (23 page)

Giselle was visibly flustered and it took her several moments to recover. Her beautiful blush was back too. “As I was saying before you so rudely drifted off, Damian got a call early this morning that Frankie was missing and was last seen talking to Geoffrey, Xavier’s second in command. Blood wasn’t found but could be smelled in Frankie’s office. We’ve been asked by Damian to try to find Frankie’s body or his parts before anyone else discovers it, especially humans.”
Humans
. Right.

He shook his head. Why, oh why, had he agreed to work for Devon? He knew exactly why. And she was standing in front of him in all her exquisite glory. “You think this guy is in pieces? Why?”

“That’s Geoffrey’s M.O.” She shrugged.

“Christ.” Sick fuckers, the lot of ’em. “And why is Geoffrey here in town anyway? Or should I ask?”

“He’s doing the same thing we are. Looking for Xavier’s long-lost daughters of course.”
Fucking great
. The most powerful vampires on earth were converging upon his city and he couldn’t do anything but sit back and watch the show unfold before his very eyes. And pray he survived.

Giselle had moved their little conversation into his meager living room and was now sitting on a deep red club chair closest to the gas fireplace. The fabric was pilled and had seen better days, but he’d be lying if he said she looked anything other than a queen sitting on it, especially given her attire today.

He also knew why she sat there. Every other time she’d been here, she’d sat on the couch, but that also allowed him to sit beside her. Today her walls were reinforced with five-inch thick steel doors and he’d have to find another way around.

“How did you get my number?” Back to that, were we?

“Your phone fell out of your pocket while you were sleeping.” Not true, since he saw it tucked in her bra instead. There were no pockets to be found in that tiny skirt she wore yesterday.

“I didn’t have pockets,” she snapped. Her ire was back in full force.

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” Cue the steam.

“Yes. Oh.” Fuck if he would give her more than that.

“I could make you tell me, you know,” she purred, back to the seductress. Looked like her bipolar had kicked in.

He sat back on the couch and crossed his arms, purposely letting his legs fall farther apart. Giselle took the bait, glancing a little too long at his stiff cock before their eyes locked again. Which way would she play this? Seduce or attack?

Attack, it was.

“Yes. I can compel you to tell me the truth.” She was lying. She couldn’t compel him. No vampire had ever been able to compel him and, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure why. He understood it was a very rare human who couldn’t be compelled. But he’d play along.

“Okay. You can give it a shot. If how I found your phone number is
really
that important to you, I’m game.”

Anger caused her brows to crease and her lips to thin. “Fuck you,” she spewed.

“I thought you’d never ask, Giselle.” He held her furious glare with a straight face. For several moments he felt pressure like a headache coming on, and then…nothing. It wasn’t a new sensation. He’d felt it many times before.

“Is that all you got?” he goaded. He couldn’t help himself. She was the matador provoking him with a red flag and he was the bull. She just brought out the bastard in him.

Next thing he knew his back was digging into the broken couch spring and a sexy, volatile, furious female straddled him. “How did you do that?”

“Are we still talking about the phone number?” Her sweet spot was perfectly straddling his still erect dick and her breath caught when he slightly ground into her.

“No. I want to know how you resisted my compulsion.” Her little act of aggression was quickly going to shit. He was affecting her and she failed miserably in trying to hide it.

“You’re changing subjects so fast I’m getting whiplash, baby.” Was it stupid to needle a pissed off female?
Yes
. Was it even more reckless to prod a pissed off a female
vampire
?
Fuck yes
. Did he care?
Not one iota.

She leaned down, running her nose along his jaw. She none too gently scraped her teeth down his neck, along his collarbone. It was his turn to catch his breath.

She murmured, “I could end your sad, pathetic life in just a few short minutes, Detective. I would even make it pleasurable for you, although you’re an asshole and don’t deserve such kindness.”

He wrapped one strong arm around her waist and another around her head, holding it tightly to his neck. He thrust his hips hard into her as if she was riding him naked and he was trying to bury himself balls deep.
If only that were true.

“Go ahead.” When she didn’t move, he added, “Do it, Giselle. End me.” He wasn’t aware how much he truly meant it until the words were out and for the first time since he’d resolved to devote his life to retribution, he just wanted it to be over.

His life was sad.

It was pathetic.

It was lonely.

He was full of self-loathing, anger and hate. He had nothing inside of him to give Jamie, Giselle, or any other woman. Hell, how could he when he was an empty shell of a man?

He half expected to feel the sting of her bite, but instead felt the softness of her lips as they skated along his neck. Her tongue darted out, and he actually shivered. A slight moan escaped her as the hand gripping her head tightened and his hips drove into her leather-covered pussy.

How many times over the last few months had he imagined her mouth willingly on him?
Countless
. The reality of it, however, was so much better. His fantasies had been blown to bits, scattering like shards of glass. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it while inside her sweet body. Yes, he was a selfish bastard.

It was his turn to moan as she got more aggressive, now lightly nipping his skin, kissing her way up toward the shell of his ear. He wanted to grab her head and plunder her mouth. He wanted her underneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as he pumped ruthlessly into her. Hell, he might not even make it inside her, he was ready to blow his load right this fucking second.

Then she stopped. Her ragged breath echoed in his ear. Shit, was she going to break down again? Christ, a minute ago he’d accepted death. Now he wanted nothing more than to hold Giselle in his arms. He held her tightly to him, waiting for her to speak, move, do
something
. Several minutes slowly ticked by and she remained quiet. At least his raging hard-on wasn’t begging to be set free any longer. But Jesus, did his balls hurt.

“Giselle?”

“We can’t do this,” she whispered.

Ummm…what?
She was a vampire. Didn’t they love fucking? Now he just felt slighted. He wasn’t good enough to be used for even the most basic of human or vampire needs?

Rage and embarrassment welled. His mental middle finger shot up at her rebuff.

“You’re right.” His hold was so tight his knuckles were cramped and it took several seconds to loosen them up enough to let her go. Even with his arms completely removed, she lay still, head buried in his neck, chest heaving. He was so irrationally pissed, he grabbed her shoulders and none too gently shoved her away. He was never rough with a woman, well, unless it was mutual, but this was Giselle they were talking about. Her multiple personalities were harder to keep up with than a
Scandal
episode and he was done with it.

He stood as she scrambled out of the way. “Why don’t we split up on this one. We can cover more ground faster. We’ve already established I have your cell phone number and you have mine, so I’ll call you if I find anything.” And he wouldn’t have to be around the psycho bitch.

After splitting up the areas deemed most likely to dump a body, half an hour later he went his way and she hers. Giselle had mentioned Dev and Kate were on their honeymoon. Don’t ask don’t tell was the vibe he’d gotten, so he didn’t ask. When Dev returned, however, Mike was going to speak with him about working with Giselle. As in
not
.

This was the last time he would do this with her. Not only was this torture for his cock, his mind was constantly tormented. He might be a masochist bastard, but these unpredictable interactions with Giselle were even more than he could handle.

After this task if he saw her again, it would be too soon. And most definitely not good for his own fucking sanity.

C
hapter
32

Damian

He was screwed. How could he be so careless as to let T update him with Analise in the house? The better question was why did he check her background in the first place? He knew the answer to that, but Analise wouldn’t accept it. Nor would she accept anything less than the truth. Which was no less than she deserved.

Fucking hell.

He’d completely blown it. She was damn pissed and deservedly so. She may be his fated mate, his Moira, but that didn’t mean she had to agree to
bond
herself to him forever. He had to lay it all out on the line and hope that she could forgive the biggest mistake he’d ever made in nearly five hundred years. Not letting go of her hands, he began his confession. At the end of it, he’d either earn her forgiveness or her rebuff. He honestly didn’t know if he would accept any decision other than for her to stay. He couldn’t. He
wouldn’t
.

“The night I met you I asked T to dig into your background because I knew you were mine and I wanted to know every piece of information about you I could get my hands on. You were buttoned tighter than a straightjacket and I was impatient.”

Insults…maybe not exactly the best way to start off an apology. He paused, waiting for any reaction. She regarded him stonily, but emotion swirled beneath the surface, so he continued.

“After I found out your full name and that you were a ward of the state, that’s when I suspected that you were Xavier’s daughter. Well, I had a gut feeling was more like it. And I always trust my gut.

“What I didn’t tell you was we believe Xavier sired several female vampires. Apparently Xavier can only produce female offspring, which is unheard of. At the time, Xavier didn’t see the value of these female offspring and at his command his minions were to eliminate all of the females he’d sired. However, they managed to save three by trying to place them with families on the adoption registry. We think perhaps your placement went awry as we knew one baby ended up being turned over to social services.”

“And you’re positive I’m his daughter?” Her voice was small, childlike.

“We haven’t verified it with DNA yet, but, yes, I do believe you are his daughter. I was going to have blood samples taken when we return to Milwaukee so it can be verified.” He continued. “So we believe Xavier likely still has three daughters alive. Devon’s mate, Kate. You. And a third we haven’t found yet.”

“I have two half-sisters?” Her voice was laced with disbelief…and hope.

“One for sure. Kate. As I said, we haven’t found the other child yet, so perhaps she’s not even living anymore.” While it might make it easier if she wasn’t, he truly hoped that wasn’t the case. If for nothing else than Analise’s sake.

Her body was tense, eyes alight with fury once again. “You kept the fact that I have sisters from me. How could you do that?”

“Analise, we haven’t even confirmed that you’re Xavier’s daughter. Even though I think that’s the case, maybe I’m wrong. And if I’m wrong, you’d be far more devastated to think you had sisters and have them ripped away than to just wait a few more days and know for sure. I was only being cautious.” It was the truth. He just hoped she’d see the prudence of his decision.

Her eyes flicked to the floor. Bingo. She knew he was right. One bullet dodged. They snapped back to his quickly, anger still very much present.

“Okay, fine. I can agree that you were right to not say anything just yet. But you were wrong to look into my past, Damian. If you wanted to know something, you should have just asked me.”

He held her eyes, challenging her. “Would you have answered
anything
I asked?” He saw her waver and again knew he had her. No, she wouldn’t have and she couldn’t sit here and deny it. At least not honestly.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you didn’t give me that opportunity, did you?”

He stood and walked to the windows. It was a cloudy day in the Boston area and he could see a summer storm rolling in off in the distance. He’d turned his back on her and while she may be tempted to bolt, she wouldn’t. She wanted an explanation. And he would give it to her.

“Analise.” He spoke toward the window but watched her in its reflection. “I can’t even begin to describe to you what it’s like for a vampire to find his Moira, his fated one. Every protective instinct I had kicked in when I met you. Hell, before I met you just two short days ago, I had no fucking clue what I was even waiting for. Not only was my imagination of you an enigma, but the real you is as well. You’re a mystery, a puzzle, a conundrum that I desperately wanted—
no, needed
—to solve. I want to know the good, the bad, the ugly. The black, the white, and the endless shades of gray in between. You have no idea how deliriously happy I am now that you are in my life. You are a soothing balm to my dark soul and if I lose you, it will be irrevocably lost in the burning pits of hell.”

He turned around to face Analise, her face rapt with attention, her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears.

“Yes, what I did was wrong. And you’re right. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt to tell me your story in your own way in your own time. Life dealt you a shit hand and I was frantic to fix it. I didn’t need to have T look into your background to know that. I sensed it from the moment I saw you. One look and I knew that you, my sweet kitten, were broken.”

He walked over, sitting on the coffee table across from her, their knees touching. Speaking softly, he hoped she would know the truth of his words. “And how can I know how to put you back together again if I don’t know what broke you in the first place?” He felt something wet on his face and, reaching up, discovered it was his own tear.