Defeat the Darkness (Hearts of Darkness) (23 page)

His chest burned, his heart ached, and his throat tightened with every image his friend conjured with his words. Was it possible to experience so much loss and survive? If he clenched his teeth together any tighter, would he crush his jaw?

He wondered what reaction his friend read in his eyes.

Wasn’t this what he wanted for Shelby? To find happiness with Max? He was devoted to her, and she’d loved him once. She could learn to love him again.

“The needy people in the French Quarter need her talent as a physician.” His reply was true but so lame it embarrassed him. He forced his gaze to stay on Max’s. He wouldn’t flinch even if his head exploded with his twisted, jealous thoughts.

Giving Shelby up was hard enough, but knowing she and his best friend hadn’t waited before hopping in the sack together grated on his last nerve. The idea filled him with frustration, disappointment, and anger.

The cat within him wanted out and the demon clawed at his insides. It took every bit of his self-control to hold the beasts back.

“I need her, Kyle. Somewhere along the way, I realized I never stopped loving her. I really love her—the kind of love you feel for her. But she suddenly realized you would never have hurt her without good reason.” Max’s voice cracked and the muscles in his jaw clenched. “Shelby still loves you.”

I love her, too. God how I love her.

The demon in him stirred. Kyle wouldn’t take away her chance at a normal life and love. Max was the one who could love her and give her what she needed.

What could he offer her? He looked at the dumpster in the shadows. This? A life with a monster? A demon? A beast?

“Look Max, if you’re asking for my blessing, it’s not mine to give. She’s her own woman. She can have sex with whomever she chooses. It’s her decision. Your conscience clear now, buddy?”

“We’re not having…you know.” Max shrugged and glanced away. When he looked back, his expression was pained. “Not that we don’t still…forget it. She needs clo
sure, and I want her to love me, the way she still loves you.”

He balled his huge hands into fists. “I want her so bad I can’t breathe at times, but I won’t make love to her again while her feelings for you haunt our bed.”

“Your loss. You’ll have to earn her back. I can’t hand her over to you like some damned birthday gift.” Kyle couldn’t take any more. He wasn’t made of stone. “Hell! What do you want from me, anyway?”

The idea of Max and Shelby making love disturbed him more than he expected. What man wouldn’t be bothered? “I ruined myself in her eyes, broke her heart, and walked away. What more can I do?

“Talk to her. Explain what happened. It’s the only way she and I can move forward.”

“That’s not going to happen. I guarantee it won’t help your cause.”

“Why? Because you risked your safety for that boy? And her? Is that it? Were you playing hero, Kyle?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ll contact you later. Take care of her, and Max…don’t tell her you saw me.”

Personal feelings aside, the seriousness of Max’s words finally sank in and sent a cold shiver up Kyle’s spine.

Her blood is fucked up.

What had he been talking about? What was wrong with her blood?

Chapter 29 Grieving

Shelby opened a bottle of wine, checked the shrimp creole in the pot, and thought about the strange sensation she sensed when she left for work this morning. Someone had been watching her for weeks. But lately it felt different.

She poured the chilled Bordeaux through an aerator into a wine snifter. As she swirled it, watching the translucent red liquid coat the inside of the glass, she suddenly shivered, remembering the slow drip of blood from long white fangs.

Recently, she hadn’t been able to get Kyle out of her head, day or night. She shivered at the memories. Some nights she woke up and swore she could smell him. The scent of a man, a cat, and a predator.

Even times when Max slept beside her, she imagined herself making love to Kyle. She hadn’t ever stopped wanting him or loving him.

This morning, right before daybreak—in that moment before conscious thought takes over—she sensed him in the bed beside her. There was something else, too—the scent of the wild swamp, a sharp hint of cinnamon, and another scent. A coppery, metallic scent.
Blood.

When she rolled over and opened her eyes, there was no one there, but the scent remained.

Taking a long sip of wine, Shelby closed her eyes and inhaled. Another image materialized—a predator, a black jaguar, and a dark winged demon who morphed into a man. It could have been Kyle, but in the dark, in the shadows, it could have been anyone his size. Like the shadow in the alley this morning.

Hallucinations. Nightmares. Dreams. Max said the effects of the drug were long lasting according to Victor. At least the
nightmares had eased into more pleasant, if not equally distracting, dreams. Most of the reoccurring dreams went from an HD version of her and Max, making love together in a sweaty embrace and eventually ending up with Kyle joining them. Neither man seemed aware of the other’s presence. When they were all exhausted and satisfied, the dreams ended with Max on one side of her in the morning light and Kyle on the other side in the dark shadows.

The dreams were occurring nightly. Probably because she was horny as hell. Knowing the pleasure Max was capable of bringing her set her teeth on edge. Because if, and when, he joined her in her bed now, he tried not to touch her. They agreed to keep their relationship platonic—for now. Although there were moments she could kick herself for agreeing to it, they’d both stuck to the arrangement.

Heat shifted inside her and moisture dampened her panties thinking about the hard broad planes of his chest. Apparently, her body was confused about what she wanted.

One of the things they’d agreed not to agree about, were the sleeping arrangements. Although they’d had world rocking sex back at his place, they hadn’t slept together since her first week back. They decided that rebound sex and a long-term affair were two different animals. It wasn’t fair to Max to keep it up, not until she sorted out her feelings.

Nothing prevented them from trying again with Kyle out of the picture but Max wanted more and she couldn’t lie to him. He was adamant. When she did invite him back into her bed, he wanted her to be sure her feelings for Kyle were gone. They both knew that wasn’t the case. Kyle wasn’t completely out of the picture—not while she was dreaming about making love to him nightly.

The continuous dreams of the two men started after she’d been back a few weeks. Every time she closed her eyes, she could taste Kyle on her lips when Max kissed her. In her vision, it was Max entering her and filling her. Then, when she opened her eyes, Kyle was the one inside her, staring deep into her eyes, silently pleading for forgiveness. The sexual dreams were so vivid and realistic she always woke up startled, feeling as if his hands were still on her in the dark.

In all the dreams, he had fangs—the fangs she’d remembered from her one night in Guatemala. In these dreams, they didn’t repulse or frighten her the way they had then. In these dreams, his eyes bored into hers. He teased her throat with his fangs, and licked her neck with his rough tongue, sending ripples of pleasure through her. The nails on his hands were sharp and pointed when he stroked her back. Intriguing how gentle he could be, considering the way his muscles rippled with power beneath his flesh.

The oven timer went off bringing her back to the present with a shiver. When she opened the oven door, the delicious smell of corn bread filled the air. Perfect. What southern girl didn’t know how to make a batch of melt-in-your-mouth corn bread that could fill up a belly and satisfy any hunger?

A glance at the clock reminded her Max would be home any minute. He’d been staying with her after that first week. She got over being uncomfortable about him replacing Kyle in the apartment. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent time here before. Besides, her place was closer to the clinic and bigger than his apartment. He moved most of his clothes in and slept over, but usually he used the spare bedroom.

That didn’t make resisting Max any easier. Hard as it was to abandon the comfort of being in his arms, she fought back her need and desire for him.

Each night, she dreamed her dreams of Kyle and Max, knowing she couldn’t stop them—not wanting to really. They were so vivid—so real—so satisfying. It was as if Kyle was right there, in her room, making love to her, the way he once had. The dreams continued, even after Max said the drug was out of her blood.

Tonight, dinner was a special occasion—a thank you, and a chance to ply him with drink before she asked him for another favor.

Now that she’d had time to think about it, something had been very wrong about that night in the jungle. In her heart, she knew Max had been right about Kyle all along. He wasn’t capable of hurting her. Certainly, not like that.

The sound of Max’s keys in the lock drew her attention to the entry. A long lock of hair escaped the rest, clasped neatly at his
nape. His tie was loosened, and a tuft of reddish blond hair peaked out from his collar.

“Shelby? What’s that scrumptious smell?” His grin was broad and teasing. Something in her heart shifted.

“Your favorite from Mama Leon’s, shrimp creole, and I made my mamma’s corn bread.”

“What do you want now?” Max tweaked her nose playfully and took the glass of wine she handed him.

He knew her too well. She huffed a little, but he was right, so she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him with her sweetest smile. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I figured that out when I smelled dinner.” He chuckled good-naturedly and kissed her lips. It was playful but a pulse beat later, it heated. An awkward moment. She felt him harden against her. Both of them moved apart at the same time.

“Go on and sit down,” she said breathing roughly. “I’ll bring in the food. It’s all ready. Bread’s on the table. Go on, shoo.” Here was her chance to make up for her self-centered behavior and a way to soften him up.

She went back into the kitchen to catch her breath and picked up the rest of their meal. From the time she and Max had been kids, to as recently as last week when he discovered a new Thai take-out, they had agreed on almost everything. Tonight, she hoped he’d agree to help her find Kyle. She couldn’t stop wanting him or loving him despite what happened.

She carried the food to the table and sat down. Max was already buttering his cornbread and eyeballing the creole. “You must want a big favor,” he said, grinning broadly.

She poured him more wine and he raised an eyebrow. “Plying me with liquor, too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. A little wine won’t affect your senses. Now tell me about your day.” She took a sip from her glass and exhaled, forcing herself to relax.

No matter how he felt about her, surely he cared about Kyle as much as she did. The men had formed an almost brotherly bond
from the start. It seemed inevitable—a deep connection—one neither could deny.

“Uh huh,” she absently replied to something Max said then went back to her thoughts.

When she entered the picture, she fit right into their friendship. Eventually, she succumbed to the attraction she felt toward Kyle, but that didn’t change her relationship with Max. Where Max complimented her in so many ways, Kyle drew out her inner strengths—challenged her to move outside her comfort zone.

Had Max been drawn to him for the same reasons, she wondered? Kyle had been the one who encouraged Max to follow his heart as a researcher instead of becoming a surgeon like his father.

Two such different men—so diverse yet so similar—like opposite
sides of the same coin
.

Did Max miss Kyle as much as she did?

Had she been so lost in her own pain she failed to see his?

“Shelby? Are you listening to a word I’ve said?” Max had the last piece of the cornbread in his hand and his plate was empty.

“Of course—do you want more?”

“You were not listening and yes, I want more. But you eat, and I’ll get it myself. You haven’t touched your dinner.”

“Sorry, I was wool gathering.” She picked up her bread and took a bite as Max went to the kitchen for more.

Would he help her find Kyle? With him or without him, she was determined to find Kyle and confront him. He was the only one who could put an end to her nagging questions.
Why? Why? Why?
Not knowing kept her from moving forward. They had to figure out why her emotions were all over the place.

“Max, I want you to help me find Kyle.”

~~~~

“What do you mean? No?” she shouted at him. Shelby scowled and her face turned bright red.

Max thought back. Had he ever denied her anything before? Judging from her reaction. No, probably not. This time, he had to. There was no way to keep Kyle’s secret and make Shelby happy, too.

If Kyle thought she was in danger then Max was going to keep her out of it.

“I don’t want to be cruel, but he knows where to find you if he wants you.” He spoke the words softly to ease the impact he knew they would have and sure enough, they did.

Shelby turned away from the dishes and gasped. When her eyes filled up with tears, he wondered if he’d gone too far. But she blinked back the tears, narrowing her eyes, and glared at him as if he’d grown two heads.

“What did you say? Never mind! That was cruel and just downright mean, Max Hamilton.”

“But
true.
Right?”

Determination flashed in her eyes before she glanced away. Clearing her throat, she stared out the kitchen window. “What’s the matter with you? You’ve never been mean like this before.”

“Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. That was mean.” He sat in the kitchen chair and pulled her into his lap. “I admit I’m confused about my feelings. If he’s out of the picture, it leaves
us
a possibility, but—”

He held up a hand holding back her incoming argument. “You know I don’t want you on those terms. I want you to be happy, but I want you alive. If it means keeping you away from Kyle’s crazy bitch, then so be it.”

“I get it. Tell me, Max, do you miss him?”

“Like my right nut—oops, sorry.” He laughed. “It’s an expression he used.”

“I never heard—”

“He wouldn’t use that around you. Just us guys. We’re attached to our privates in a way you gals can’t understand.”

“Then you do miss him?”

Max thought for a long moment. He liked having Shelby to himself, but nothing was ever as good as the friendship the three of them shared. They laughed harder and worked better together.
Of course, he missed Kyle. It pissed him off that his friend could walk away from him and Shelby. But if he was as worried about her as he hinted at this morning, Max understood.

“Yes. Even though I want you more than anything, babe, there are moments I miss him like hell.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so self-centered. I should have realized since you’ve known him longer than I have. How can you stand it?”

“Being with you has helped.” He nuzzled her neck and she swatted him.

“You men are so shallow.”

“Yeah, we are. Perfect would be all three of us together again.”

“Are you that into Kyle?”

Max couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Hell, no. Not like that. Think about how much more fun it would be having two of us pleasuring you.”

“Oh, you are teasing me now,” she said.

Max noticed how fast her gaze flickered away when he mentioned a ménage. Her cheeks flushed and she did that nervous blink—not much, just enough to make him wonder. Had she considered it?

And why had he mentioned it? He’d been joking, but since he brought it up, how did he feel about sharing her with another man? It would be better than not having her at all. If the other man was Kyle, Max realized he was okay with the idea.

“Of course I am.” No point making her uncomfortable about something that could never happen. Kyle would walk away before he shared her.

Unless it was for her own good.

He wasn’t sure if his friend would ever adjust to that way of thinking, but two of them could keep her safer than
one could.