Authors: Madelyn Ford
Arak shrugged with indifference, as if a life didn’t rest in the balance.
“Bullshit!” Jet barked.
Arak slowly raised one brow. “Not that your opinion really means shit right about now, but until Kash comes to his senses, Zeke will be protecting the female.”
“Are you now in charge, Arak? Or is it Zeke?” Remy asked crossly.
With a roll of his eyes, Arak stepped out of the doorway. “Zeke and I are only taking the precautions needed to ensure Charity is not harmed by either demons or Raym.
Remy, I examined the female not three weeks ago, and I can testify she was not pregnant. If she is now, the father has to be either Kash or someone in this abbey.”
Murmurs followed Arak’s assertion, and with great effort, he managed to keep the smile that threatened to break through off his face. Remy studied him silently, while Jet’s scowl only deepened. But then, Arak hadn’t expected to reach that brother without solid proof—like a handwritten note from God himself.
While he waited for Remy’s decision, Arak turned to the other two males. Levi seemed curiously contemplative by his words, and if he’d had the time, he would have questioned the look on Bale’s face. His brother appeared downright ill.
As Remy spoke, Arak turned his attention back to their leader. “If Charity does not return before morning, find her and confirm your suspicions, Arak. You were right to send Zeke after her. If she is carrying Kash’s child, we will have to adjust our priorities, placing Charity’s protection at the top.”
“You are all fools,” Jet bit out before stomping up the stairs, purposely knocking Levi out of his way once he reached the top.
Remy watched their brother go before turning away with a sigh and heading toward the back of the residence where the tower that housed Remy’s living quarters stood.
“Do you really believe that shit you spouted?” Bale asked as he slowly descended the staircase.
“I’m pretty damn certain of it, Bale.”
Arak watched as Bale nodded, resignation seeming to take over his features. “I’m glad for him.”
“This is good news. If Kash’s mate could be so fortunate, so, too, could yours.” Arak had thought his words would bring Bale joy, but his brother only shook his head.
“Female vampires are unable to carry a child to term, Arak. Only the males seem able to procreate, and they need human women to accomplish that feat.” Bale was silent a moment before he pinned Arak with an intense look. “Do not mention this to Faith. Not until you’re certain one way or the other. It will be hard on her.”
Bale’s last words were mumbled as he turned and slowly began the ascent up the stairs. Arak watched him go, his heart heavy with the burden of Bale’s explanation.
He remembered how his brother had been with the daughter he had lost along with his first wife. Bale had loved that little girl with every fiber of his being, and Arak had always suspected he had mourned her long after he had accepted his wife’s death.
Shaking his head, Arak met Levi’s gaze, and both males were in instant agreement.
At least Bale had his mate. What Arak wouldn’t give to have Saraknyal returned to him. He’d never ask for another thing the rest of his existence.
On the drive to her destination, Charity’s phone began to howl. She would have laughed had her heart not been breaking, and as Kash’s name lit up the SUVs interior, she was tempted to smash her cell against the window. She just wanted to wake from this never-ending nightmare. Tossing the phone as if it burned her, she turned her attention back to the road. No point topping off an already craptastic night by getting stranded in a ditch.
And her so-called friend Hope. That hurt most of all. Prue and Tempy had always warned her to stay away from Hope, but she’d believed the two irrational in their dislike. Now she wasn’t so sure. Why had Hope done this to her? She’d sensed nothing but anger and regret coming from the other female, not malicious glee or jealousy. So why?
As she came to a screeching halt in front of Prue and Tempy’s house, Charity leaned back in her seat, staring at the lighted front door. She heard it before she saw it, like a roar out of the darkness, and then the black car appeared in her rearview mirror.
It stayed far enough away so as to appear inconspicuous, but Charity would have recognized that vehicle anywhere. She didn’t know why Zeke was following her, nor did she really care. Right now, she had more important fish to fry. So with a deep breath, she gathered up her indignation and got out of her truck, slamming the door just a little too roughly behind her. Then she proceeded to take her agitation out upon the doorbell, pressing the button in a quick, repetitive motion.
“I swear to God I’m going to break your fingers!” the voice threatened just before the door was yanked open, and there stood Prue, dagger in hand, ready to do battle.
Charity pushed her way past Prue and stomped into the house. “Well, hello to you too. What crawled up your ass?”
Charity spun on Prue and pinned her with a glare. “To hell with pleasantries, damn it. It’s not what crawled up my ass, but more like who shoved a knife between my shoulder blades.”
With a sigh of exasperation, Prue stared at her in confusion. “Charity, what are you going on about?”
“Hope discovered I’m pregnant, and she told Kash.”
Shock registered slowly across Prue’s features. “Why? What could she possibly gain from that?”
Tears welled up in Charity’s eyes, but she fought them back as she shook her head.
The pain of betrayal—from both Kash and Hope—stung, and while she would have loved to have known why, she wasn’t certain it mattered. Was it going to make Kash believe her? She wasn’t sure anything could accomplish that.
Prue looked indignant on Charity’s behalf. “It certainly can’t be Kash. She should know that as your mate, he’s off limits.”
“Is he?”
Prue’s brow furrowed as she considered Charity’s question. “You’re the shifter. You tell me.”
She turned her back on Prue and moved to stand before the large window in the living room. She didn’t want to discuss Kash or Hope, not while the hurt was this fresh. But she’d opened the door, and closing it now would be impossible. “He would be. If he were a shifter.”
“What?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she took some satisfaction in Prue’s confusion. “Yeah.
When he found out about the baby, Kash denied it was his. Started going on about a curse.” And she waited for Prue’s reaction.
She didn’t have long to wait. Prue blanched. “A curse?” she repeated in a whisper.
“Apparently they cannot procreate. They were punished, cursed…whatever. Why did you never mention
the
curse?”
But Prue ignored her question. “What does the curse have to do with Kash? Jesus, tell me he’s not a demon.”
Charity shook her head slowly, curious to see where Prue’s mind would travel next.
Would she guess the truth? Or did she believe the Grigori to be myth?
“If he is not a demon, then he would have to be…”
“Be what, Prue?” she asked quietly.
Prue’s eyes had grown wide with fear. “A Watcher.”
The words were spoken so softly, Charity had to strain to hear them.
“What’s his name?” Prue’s voice took on a note of panic.
“Whose name?”
“Kash. It can’t be his full name. It must be a nickname. What is his name?”
The way Prue’s voice rose in volume set Charity back. Something had the other female alarmed, and immediately Charity was on guard. She didn’t know the answer to Prue’s question. Had never heard any of the males referred to by other names. But she wasn’t certain she would have confided in Prue even if she had.
Prue began to pace. “Think, Prudence. Think. Bale. Zeke. Arak. Remy. Kash.” With a tinge of fear, Charity watched Prue mumble to herself. “Balam. Remiel. Ezekeel.
Arakiel. It can’t be. Sweet Jesus.” Prue came to a sudden halt, her gaze zeroing in on Charity. “And the curse has been lifted. Archdemons will rise from Hell in droves to breed if this gets out. We need to go deep underground. Hide you.”
Charity warily took a step back. Prue had lost her mind.
“Damn it, Chari. This is serious. They’ll come after you. I’ll call Tempy. Have her come home immediately. We’ll pack up and head out tonight.”
As Prue reached for the phone, Charity grasped her hand, stopping her. “Wait. Prue, I can’t just leave. Kash—”
“Obviously is a rotten bastard. Can you trust him, Charity? Will he keep you safe or throw you to the wolves? This is the second time you’ve had to leave him. Catch a clue.”
“That’s not fair,” Charity growled. “The first was a misunderstanding.”
“And now?”
Charity’s shoulders slumped, and she hung her head. “I don’t know.” Then she thought of Zeke, and pushing aside the curtain, she spotted his car still parked down the block. And it filled her with hope. “Someone did put a tail on me, though. Zeke followed me here.”
At Prue’s gasp, Charity met her troubled gaze. “You have six hours, Chari. If I don’t hear from you by then, we’ll leave without you.”
“But Prue—”
“No. It’s time. And if the curse truly is lifted, he’ll start hunting me again.”
Charity didn’t even have to ask to whom she referred—Prue’s father.
“They can help, Prue, the Grigori.”
“No. Jesus, one of their own is a traitor. I can’t trust them, Chari.”
The last was whispered with sad conviction, and Charity wondered when and what members of the Grigori Prue had encountered in the past. It had obviously never been any of the members here in Seattle, since Prue had met most of them and had never recognized them for who they were. But she was certain that at some point Prue had known at least one. And he or she had let her down.
Charity glanced at her watch, confirming the time. “All right, Prue. Six hours. But I wish you would think about what I said. They could help.”
Charity sighed as Prue vigorously shook her head.
“Just get that one away from my house,” Prue whispered, peeking out the window and peering into the blackness as if she expected Zeke to attack.
“Okay, Prue.”
Charity hugged her friend, then left the house and headed for her car. She changed direction at the last minute and instead approached Zeke, and he climbed out of the Charger and met her halfway.
“What are you doing here, Zeke?”
He studied her silently for a moment, and she cocked her head, steadily returning his gaze. “Is it true, Sasquatch?”
“Yes.” Charity didn’t bother with any explanations or declarations. Zeke would either believe her or he wouldn’t. She was done pleading her case.
But Zeke didn’t react to her response. Instead he asked, “Will you come back to the abbey? Arak would like to take a look at you.”
“Why? So he can tell the others I didn’t lie? Should I even care? Kash should have believed me without an ounce of proof.”
“You’re right,” Zeke said softly, reaching out and cupping her cheek. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re dealing with a twelve-thousand-year-old curse here. It will take more than just your word for many to believe.”
“And you, Zeke? Do you?” Charity didn’t realize until that moment just how badly she needed him to say he did.
Zeke dropped his hand to his side. “My word alone will not change their minds. But I don’t see what you would gain by lying about this.”
And with his words, Charity felt her hopes sink. Even Zeke, who knew her better than most, was not convinced. “That’s not what I asked.” She turned from him, feeling disheartened, intending to return to her car. Maybe she should just leave with Prue and Tempy. Was there anything left for her here?
Zeke gripped her arm tightly, dragged her to him, and anchored her back to his chest. “Whether the curse has truly been broken,” he spoke quietly in her ear, “or you and Kash have been singled out for some unknown reason, I do not know. But yes, Charity, I believe you.”
Tears swam in her eyes, threatening to spill over her lashes as she sagged against Zeke. Nodding, she allowed him to turn her in his arms.
“It will be all right, Sasquatch.” He brushed the tears away with his thumbs. “You’ll see. Check your phone.”
She pulled back with a snort. “And listen to more insults from Kash? No, thank you.
He probably ran straight into her arms.”
Zeke didn’t even ask which “her” Charity meant. “I don’t think she meant to hurt you, Charity. Not as much as she wanted to protect Kash.”
Charity shook her head, not wanting to listen to Zeke defend Hope. She wasn’t ready to consider the other female’s perspective, not when she was still hurting so badly. “Listen to your messages. Then I’ll take you back to the abbey.”
But still Charity hesitated, afraid.
“Do you trust me, Charity?” At her nod, relief filled Zeke’s eyes. “Then go.”
Obediently she stepped away from Zeke and returned to her SUV. After fishing her cell from the floorboard of the passenger seat, she glanced at the display. Five new messages. Trepidation spreading through her, Charity pressed the button and listened as the string of messages began from the most recent to the oldest. All five were from Kash, the first four all pleas for her to return his calls. The last message, which he’d left only moments after she’d sped away, was longer and much more detailed.
“Charity, come home so we can talk.”
She grunted but continued to listen. They’d already said enough to each other.
“I reacted poorly, but you must understand how impossible this seems. A mate, I believed with all my heart. But never a child. Those like Bale, who lost their offspring, they deserve this gift. Not I.”
Charity tried to keep her anger from rising with that statement, though the desire to smash the phone upon the pavement was great. What about her? Was she to suffer not having children because he thought he didn’t deserve them? The bastard.
“Even if the child isn’t mine, I want you with me, chérie. I will protect you and the child till my last, dying breath. Chérie, please come home.”
Charity shut the phone, livid. Still he denied their child. And that hurt.
Zeke pulled up alongside her and rolled down the passenger window. “You ready to prove them all wrong, Sasquatch?”