Authors: Cindy Paterson
“So,
what was in New Orleans?”
Her
getaway place was no longer a getaway. “Not much.”
“I hate
when you take off, Delar. Can’t you at least send me a text to let me know how
you are? I mean, frig, I missed you.”
“Missed
you too Arrow. Hear from Rayne?” Delara last talked to her a month ago and she
and Kilter planned on returning soon so the baby would be born here. Rayne and
Kilter had spent the last seven months in St. Thomas. After recovering from
anorexia and nearly being killed by Jasmine, the Lilac who still wants Waleron
back in her webs, Rayne needed time away. Looked like extended vacations ran in
the family.
“Yep,
better than that. I flew out there a week ago for a few days in the sun. Mr.
Overprotective won’t let her do anything. And man is she big.”
Kilter
had always been an overbearing, crude asshole, but with Rayne…well Kilter
didn’t act like his nicknames Killer and off-Kilter. “Everything okay with
you?” Delara asked.
“Yeah
sure. Unlike you,” Jedrik said.
She
smacked his arm. “I’m great.”
Jedrik
snorted. “Tarek rises tomorrow. Waleron’s been gone for months searching for
you, arrives back from god knows where—my guess is New Orleans—and is pissed,
but no longer the ice machine that’s existed since you left. Could have sensed
some fear in there if you ask me, but you’re not, so I’ll just say he finally
looks semi-normal. Well as normal for Waleron as he can be.” Jedrik glanced her
way, his boyish grin having vanished. “And you? Well, you have dark circles
under your eyes and you’re pinching your thighs. Great? Frig, Sass. Why not
shoot the crap a little higher.”
Jedrik
put his ticket in the green parking box and then slid ten bucks in the machine.
“Jesus H. Christ. I was here fifteen minutes! Thieves.” He kicked the stand
with his foot and stalked into the parking garage towards his black BMW. “Where
to, Delar? Keir’s? Or how about a beer at the Dew?” He unlocked the doors and
slid onto the leather seat. He started the car then reeved the engine before
peeling out of the parking spot.
“I’m
staying at the gallery,” Delara said. “And I don’t want to hear any argument
out of you, Arrow.” It was quaint, quiet and she didn’t have the Talde
breathing down her neck.
That
certainly got his attention. He slammed on the brakes and the car behind them
skidded then blew its horn steadily. She could hear the guy shouting profanity
through the window. Here we go, she thought. Mr. big brother was going to blow
his top. It was rare, but when he did it, he did it with flying colors.
“Frig.
Frig!” He liked to repeat his words when pissed. “You’re really trying to piss
him off aren’t you?” So Waleron had told Jedrik that he wanted her at the Talde
house. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me. Frig Sass, for once, listen to Waleron.
Tarek nearly killed you. He wanted to kill you. He probably wants to now more
than ever. Don’t you recall the testimony you gave the council? You put him in
Rest for twenty years. Twenty years, Sass. He’s going to be pissed. No, I won’t
drop you at the gallery. You’re not getting your way this time.”
“Tarek
did love me, Jedrik. He wasn’t always abusive.”
“Obsessive
love. That’s different, it’s not real.”
A frumpy,
bald man came to the window and knocked. Jedrik grinned and waved, then pressed
his foot on the accelerator and sped out of the parking garage.
Delara
adjusted the fan so the heat was blowing on her face then leaned back and
closed her eyes. “I need to confront Tarek, okay. Then,” she paused, “I need to
settle shit with Waleron.”
“Not
that this will do you any good, but he was a real prick to be around since you
left. Actually, we rarely saw him, but when we did, well the attitude was cold
and expressionless.”
That
stupid Pez dispenser. He is going to kill himself with that mind-numbing shit.
“So,
what went down when he found you in New Orleans?”
Oh, he
caught me cutting. Not much really. Just another day in Delara’s life. “He’s
unhappy with Tarek rising,” Jedrik made a face that said
duh
. “…and he
suggested—”
“Ah,
suggested?” Jedrik laughed.
“Fine.
He
insisted
I go to Europe. To stay with Xamien.”
“Bah.”
Jedrik laughed-shouted awkwardly.
Silence.
Jedrik
glanced over at her and she saw the sudden seriousness in his eyes. His
knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Okay, what was up? She
attempted to get into his mind and read his thoughts, but Jedrik was good at
blocking and he had a steel shield up.
“Listen
Sass, I can’t go against him this time. He’s right. Tarek is unstable and none
of us knows how he will react when he rises.”
Shit.
She should’ve known Jedrik wasn’t going to let her stay alone at the gallery.
There no
way was she going to live in fear. No, she’d left the Talde last year to find
someone—herself. She’d find a way to end this. End Tarek. The woman she’d lost
was coming back fighting. The question was who she would be fighting.
****
Jedrik
failed to inform her that Damien and Ryker were out of the sub-basement. Talk
about pissed off testosterone alert. How was she supposed to live in the Talde
house with a bunch of raging male Rottweilers? She’d been back an hour and
already she couldn’t wait to leave.
She
walked down the hallway towards the front door, needing some fresh air. Her
mind was contemplating how she’d get to Tarek without alerting the Senses when
she bumped into a solid chest coming out of the bathroom. “Crap. Sorry...” She
looked up and her mouth dropped open. “Xamien.” At least six foot five he
towered over her five foot three stature, making her have to crane her neck in
order to see his face. She was used to it.
His
shoulders were broad and arms well-muscled, although not like a body builder’s,
just enough to tell her that he could crush a garbage can in two seconds flat.
And she’d seen it; the guy was an audacious dominant. He also could make her
body sing with undeniable need. Already she was getting hot just thinking of
his hands on her. Not good.
When she
finally finished perusing the body she hadn’t seen in months, she glanced up at
his face, meeting obsidian eyes that slanted downwards in the corners and held
an abundance of lashes. Handsome with an exotic flavor, she’d always thought.
His nose was crooked. Oh not enough to say it deterred from his good looks,
just enough to give it character. She’d been trying to get out of him for years
how it got broken.
He reached
forward, while she was busy contemplating whether or not to jump him or to
rebuke him for being here, and tweaked the tip of her nose with his finger.
“Kitten,” he said. “How was your stay in New Orleans?”
She
lowered her voice. “What the hell are you doing here?” God, this was a
disaster.
He
slipped his arm around her waist and dragged her up against him. “You look hot
when you’re flustered.”
He
claimed her mouth, his lips roaming over hers with a force that made her body
remember all the things he’d done to her over the years. “You need to visit me
more often, Kitten.” He let her go, bowed his head graciously and slipped past
her, disappearing into the library.
Xamien
was here? Crap, Xamien was here. Waleron brought him here instead of her going there.
Xamien didn’t even look remotely concerned about it. What was she thinking;
Xamien never got embarrassed and sure as hell didn’t experience anxiety. He’d
made it clear that he couldn’t care less if Waleron knew about their occasional
liaisons.
Jedrik
came up beside her. “Where you going?”
“Escape
from the overabundance of male hormones.” Well, she was. Now she was escaping
Xamien. She needed to get her thoughts in order. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t leaving
my cage. Merely need some fresh air.”
He
pointed to the empty corridor in the house. “You meet Xamien? You must have
just passed him. He arrived last week.” Even Jedrik didn’t know she went to
Spain to see Xamien. “That guy is a powerhouse. Fearless son of a bitch. Real
cool, though. Pretty laid back considering—”
Delara
interrupted, “Why is he here, Arrow?”
Jedrik
looked uncomfortable, broad forehead scrunched with thin lines. “Umm, what’s he
doing here?”
“Yes
Arrow, what’s he doing here?”
He
avoided her stare and shifted his feet. “Frig Sass, I wanted to tell you
but…Waleron asked him to come and take you to Spain but—”
Jesus. Waleron
lied to her. He let her come home and then was shipping her off to Spain
anyway. Xamien should’ve told her. Well, not that he could reach her in New
Orleans, but still he shouldn’t have come here. She’d confided in him when she
secretly visited him several months ago; he knew she wanted to go after Tarek.
“Frig, Sass. Stop and—”
“No way.”
No. Fuck
no. She wanted her revenge. No, she needed it damn it. Neither Waleron nor
Xamien were going to steal that from her. Waleron was breaking his word, the
bastard. Delara turned on her heel and stormed back towards the library.
“Whoa,
Sass!” Jedrik yelled. “Frig, wait up.”
Jedrik
trailed after her, his long strides easily keeping pace. “Christ, don’t go in
there. Xamien—I so don’t want to get on his bad side. If you could wait...” His
words trailed off as she threw open the study door.
With her
hands on her hips, stance erect, and head tilted at an arrogant angle, she
perused the elegant room. Three gazes turned to her. Silence. Welcome to the
boys club, she thought.
Xamien
sat casually in a high-backed leather chair, legs outstretched, ankles crossed,
and a glass filled with clear liquid sitting on the chair’s arm, his hand
curled around it. Keir sat behind his desk, feet propped up on the oak surface
with a glass of…she sniffed the air…scotch, within arm’s reach. Damien stood in
the corner, the bottle of scotch in hand, his eyes pensive and cold. After
months in solitary, Damien had returned to them and appeared semi-sane. She
wondered what he’d do if he knew the truth about Abby. That the supposed-to-be-dead
witch he still loved was alive and well.
Damien’s
eyes darted towards her and his body stiffened. Christ, she’d have to be careful
around him. His was obviously scanning thoughts. Did he suspect that Abby was
alive?
She
turned her full attention to Xamien and noticed he remained the same as when
she entered the room, a welcoming grin with scintillating eyes that appeared to
know every thought that was rushing through her brain. Actually, he did. They
suspected it was from the mindweaving that allowed him to so easily get into
her thoughts. It was a welcome discovery for Delara when they began sleeping
together. After all, what woman doesn’t want a man to know exactly what she
needs without having to voice the words?
“Stop
it, Kitten. I need some sort of control and you’re awakening something that has
no business here.”
“Damn
right, it has no business here. I don’t want anyone to know about us.”
“Everyone
is looking at you, Kitten. Better say something.”
“Was I
going to be informed of this little arrangement?”
Xamien
set his drink aside on the table next to him and, like an agile cat waking from
an afternoon nap, he came to his feet. Damn, he was sexy and the arrogant
bastard knew it. He also knew what he was doing by running his hand through his
hair like that. He knew she loved that. With the grace of a King, he bowed his
head with a slight bend at the waist. “My deepest apologizes. I did not
introduce myself. You may have forgotten our meeting many years ago. Xamien, at
your service.” He calmly sat again.
She snorted.
God, he sucked at lying. “How about you take your gallant manners and ship them
and yourself back to Spain.” With a slight adjustment of her stance, she
shifted her weight to cock her hip.
“Gallant
manners? You never complained about my manners when I so gallantly tied you up
and made you beg for release.”
Jesus.
Her body was reacting to his words despite how mad she was. “I’m staying here.”
“You
are?” Jedrik’s voice raised a pitch.
“Yes.”
Damien
coughed then took a swig from the bottle. He had dark circles under his eyes
and looked like he’d lost weight by the way his cheekbones were more defined
than before, although he’d still gained a good twenty pounds of muscle from his
workouts. The guy was obviously running himself into the ground. More than
anything she wanted to tell him Abby was doing okay, that she’d seen her. But
neither Abby nor Waleron wanted that. She noticed Damien watching her
carefully, his stance erect, eyes intense. The bottle shattered in his grasp
and shards of glass mixed with amber liquid fell to the floor.
“Don’t
even think about her. He is scanning us constantly. He won’t be able to pick up
words, but he’ll pick up on her name crossing your mind. Now, about you
staying…”
Xamien raised
his brows, square jaw relaxed. “Indeed? Perhaps you should take that up with—”