CONCEPTION (The Others) (23 page)

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Authors: Sarah McCarty

BOOK: CONCEPTION (The Others)
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“Why did you do it?”

He ran his hand down her hair, the waves turning to spirals
toward the ends as the strands dried, catching on his fingers. “I am not always
as civilized as I would like.”

She did not lift her face. The moistness of her breath sent
goose bumps up his leg. “Meaning?”

“The Chosen are very possessive of their mates. The rings
are a traditional marking.”

One given up except by the most possessive, but she did not
need to know about that. She would find his mark easier to accept if she
thought it a common practice.

“It won’t come off, will it?”

“No.”
Nor could it be cut off by anyone but him. Along with the ancient joining
words, he’d carved in the strength of his wishes. Eden shifted, her white teeth
sinking into her lower lip as her movement disturbed the ring’s position.

“It’s
very distracting.”

“It is as it should be.”

“You did it because I tried to leave, didn’t you?”

“Your actions precipitated the marking sooner than it would
have been.”

“But you intended to ‘mark’ me all along?”

He pulled her up his body until her cheek rested on his
forearm. He did not hide from her gaze as he answered her question. “Yes.
Beneath our layer of civility, all Chosen are prey to baser instincts. When it
comes to you,” he touched the corner of her slightly swollen lips and
confessed, “I am more so than most, which is why it would be wise for you not
to challenge me again in the future.”

“I didn’t challenge you. I left.”

“By leaving you deny all that is between us.”

“You want me to be some sort of puppet?”

“I want you to be my mate, to share your hopes and fears
with me as well as your joy.”

She had nothing to say to that. He grazed his knuckles
across the fat hoop, pulling her closer as she shivered, her arousal rising
along with his, as it should between mates. He kissed her forehead, not wanting
to see her expression as he asked. “Do you truly object to wearing my ring?”

“Honestly?” Her gaze searched his, not allowing him to hide
from her.

“Yes.”

“I was pretty much primed for a ring on my
finger
.”

He arched his brow at her. With a thought, he sent the hoop
swinging. “Where would the pleasure for you be in that?”

She hitched herself higher, her thighs shifting against his
as her passion spiked. Her fingers intertwined with his larger ones. Her hand
felt so small in his as she pressed his knuckles into the ring. The wet folds
of her swollen tissues opened around his flesh, accepting him into their moist
embrace.

“Nowhere near where it is,” she gasped.

Her honesty humbled him. She didn’t have to give this to
him. With her mind closed he could only guess at how she felt. She could lie to
punish him for his insistence on the tradition, but she didn’t. Wouldn’t. No
matter what the Coalition had done to her, they had not touched her inner core,
which was as pure and as decent as the Maker could create.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back before
catching and holding her gaze. He turned their joined hands slowly,
deliberately, so that the remnants of her pleasure teased his nostrils. His
tongue touched the back of his hand, precisely over the spot where her scent
was strongest. Her eyes closed. She bit her lip as if in pain.

“You need to let me go, Deuce.”

“Why?”

“So Jalina can be safe.”

“You will explain.”

She tensed and then seemed to sink into him. “If I get away,
convince them she died, they’ll stop looking for her.”

And start experimenting on her again. She didn’t need to say
it for him to understand.

Her gasp alerted him to the fact that he was squeezing her
hand too tightly. He relaxed his grip. “That is unacceptable.”

“My grandfather, Clay…” She pushed her hair off her face.
“He’s a very powerful man with a lot of connections, but no one other than he
knows about Jalina. If I can get back, get close, I can put an end to it all.”

There was only way to put an end to Clay Lavery’s obsession.
“You plan to kill him.”

“More than plan, I intended to succeed.”

To protect her daughter. He could not fault her courage,
just her plan.

“Others would continue the research. Your sacrifice would be
for nothing.”

“I only need to kill him for any reference to Jalina to be
erased from the face of the Earth.”

That was interesting. “Are you sure that no one else knows
of your pregnancy or Jalina’s birth?”

“That would be a loose end. Grandfather doesn’t leave loose
ends.”

“And this is why you left? Not because you feared our
mating, but to save our daughter?”

She nodded, her lip back between her teeth. “I knew you
wouldn’t let me go. It goes against everything you believe in.”

The hard knot in the pit of his stomach unraveled. For the
first time since she’d slipped out the bathroom window, he felt he could
breathe normally. He smoothed the pleat between her brows with his thumb,
pressing her into the shelter of his larger body, needing her softness to
soothe his beast that howled in protest at the thought of her putting herself
in danger. “It is not the Chosen way to barter our mates.”

“But for our daughter’s sake…”

“For any reason.” He did not like the set of her chin. Eden
could be very stubborn. He tipped her face up to his. “You will leave the
safety of my family where it belongs. With me.”

Tears washed the blue of her eyes, magnifying their
brightness, catching flickers of the flames in their depths, for a split second
giving the illusion of her being Chosen. Her nails snagged on his collarbone
and her lids lowered. The illusion disappeared. “You can’t let them get her.”

Adrenaline surged through her system as memories swarmed her
calm. Deuce checked the chemical flow and stroked her back, easing her tension.
“I am a Chosen warrior, leader of my people with an army of Chosen and Others
at my command. Who do you know better than the supernatural to protect her?”

She ducked his gaze. Her hand clenched into a fist. “She’s
an outsider.”

He had to remind himself that she was human before he
understood her point. “Any child of any race can approach a Chosen or Other and
ask for sanctuary, and it will be given. Jalina differs only in that she does
not have to ask.”

Edie shifted against him again. “Thank you.”

He brushed her hair back from her face, kissing her eyes
closed, frowning when she could no longer see. The disharmony was beginning
again. It had taken longer this time. Hopefully, a good sign. He sat up, taking
her with him.

Bohdan, come.

He rested his hand on the small of Edie’s back, increasing
the heat of her body before reflecting it back to ease the tension he could
feel there. Her ribs and spine were nothing more than fragile impressions
against his palm, lacking the density of a Chosen woman’s. With the smallest fraction
of his strength, he could smash them to powder. She was small and delicate and
totally unaware of her vulnerability. He traced her lower rib with his thumb.
She thought of herself as strong, yet even a human male could kill her with a
blow. He would have to guard her very carefully.

The first shiver started deep within, more of a sensation of
cold. Beneath his hand, she stiffened. He couldn’t blame her. He wrapped the
comforter around her and cradled her in his lap.

“Oh God.”

Her fear tore at him. He should be able to spare her this.
“It will not be so bad this time.” He would not allow the statement to be a
lie. The next shudder had her head snapping against his chest.

Her accusation of “Op…tim…ist” broke into three syllables
under the force of her shudders. The reaction might have started later, but it
was coming on stronger.

Deuce pulled the comforter up over her shoulders. “Bohdan
will be here soon.”

Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “Don’t let him do that to
me again.”

“We must.”

She shook her head and another quake hit her. “It’s wrong.”

He looked up as Bohdan came through the door, the healing
bag swinging ominously in his hand. The contents of the bag were only required
in the most dire of circumstances. “It was what was done before.”

“Nothing they did could be right.”

“You conceived under their care.”

“A fluke.” Another shudder. Deuce caught her jaw in his hand
to keep her neck from snapping violently. Her “It had to be” was muffled by his
hand and the stress being put on her body.

He didn’t argue with her. He was more concerned with the
results.

“You did not allow her more than she could handle?” Bohdan
asked, putting the bag on the table beside them.

For
the second time in his life—for the first time since he had lost Edie last year—Deuce
felt shame. “I did not think so, but my control is not what it should be with
her.” She had only to be near him and a host of emotions he could not control,
and could not predict, swamped him with powerful, alien demands.

Bohdan opened the bag and took out the syringe. “How much?”

“She took me twice.”

“Did you take her blood?”

“Only a couple drops.”

He was glad Eden could not understand the swear word that
tore from Bohdan’s mouth. “I should take her from you.”

“You would die trying.” It worried Deuce that he meant it.
While he’d always known he would be bonded to his mate and responsible for her
care, he had not expected the primitiveness of his reaction to her presence.

Bohdan gave no sign that he’d heard the threat. He knelt
beside Edie. “I am sorry your evening is not going well.”

“Me, too.”

Edie’s irrepressible humor, even in her misery, drew a
lightening to Bohdan’s stern mouth.

“I need to touch you.”

“I know.”

The calmness of her response did not communicate the terror
Deuce felt pouring into her.

“You will concentrate on me and relax,” Deuce told her. “I
will not allow the pain to touch you.”

“No.” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Too much.”

Too much for whom? He could and would do whatever it took.
She was his. “It is my duty.”

Bohdan reached for his arm. The needle flashed in the
firelight. Edie slapped at Bohdan’s hand, almost stabbing herself in the
process. The curse Bohdan muttered was not polite as Edie shoved the needle
away. “No transfusion.”

Bohdan glanced at him, a question in his dark eyes. Deuce
shook his head, steadying Edie as she twisted for better leverage, apparently
operating under the assumption that her muscles were a match for his brother’s.
Her heart was beating too fast. Adrenaline pumped into her system at an
alarming rate. Deuce reduced both before saying, “You will do what Bohdan
commands.”

Edie shot Bohdan a glare, set her chin in that stubborn
line, and then turned her glare on him. “No.”

Deuce tipped her face up to his, the tremors shaking her
body traveled through his hand. How she expected to win this argument he had no
idea. It was taking all her strength to keep from shaking apart. “I will force
you if I have to.”

Her eyes narrowed further, her anger projecting as clearly
as her dare. He ignored both. Her displeasure was nothing in the face of her
loss. He nodded the go-ahead to Bohdan, turned his arm out and said, “I will
not lose you, my heart.”

Bohdan slid his hand under the quilts. The implied intimacy
had Deuce’s fangs springing into his mouth before the thought formed. Bohdan
paused, casting him a questioning glance. Deuce beat back the animal inside
that raged at the sight of Bohdan’s hands touching his mate, even for the
purpose of examination.

It took four steadying breaths through his nose to find
calm, focusing all his energy on mastering the primitive demand that he sever
his brother’s hands for the affront. Finally the rage settled under the force
of his determination, and the soft touch of Edie’s hand. At the arch of his
brother’s brow, he nodded his consent. He would control his impulses around
Edie. And she would not die.

Edie fought. To her credit, despite the shock her body was
enduring, despite the turmoil inside, she fought hard enough to make Bohdan’s
assessment difficult.

Allow her some pain.

Every instinct screamed no. Despite the logic of the move,
despite the fact that doing so could save her life, he could not do it. It was
as if he were two men, one rational and one primal, when it came to Edie. Of
the two, the more primitive was the stronger. The logic of Bohdan needing her
mental resistance weakened by the distraction of pain did not matter. It was
impossible to send any amount of agony to that delicately made, vitally
important body.

I cannot.

Bohdan did not waste time arguing with him or censuring him.
He nodded. Deuce felt his understanding a second before his brother’s mind went
blank. In the next split second, Edie screamed as pain raced up from her thigh,
racing from her mind to his. He caught it, managed it and took it into himself even
as he sliced at his brother with his claws, going for the throat but meeting
air instead for the simple reason that Bohdan was no longer there. Deuce lay
Edie on the floor, and sprang to his feet, placing himself between her and the
threat. Bohdan stood ten feet away, frowning down at Edie as she lay on the
carpet. The only indication that he was prepared to battle was the way he
balanced on the balls of his feet, and the slight surge of power shimmering
around him in challenge.

Deuce bared his fangs. “You will die for that.”

Bohdan shrugged, his frown deepening as Edie shook and
moaned on the floor. “I did what you could not.”

Knowing it was necessary did not appease Deuce’s rage.
Bohdan looked up. The depth of sympathy in his eyes and his next words tore the
rage from Dusan’s soul and replaced it with terror.

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