Rebel Obsession (23 page)
“I like it. Let’s do it.”
“Okay, get out of here.” Tristan turned toward his phone. “I’ll call you at home as soon as I hear back. Try to relax. This will work out. It’s a good plan.”
It
was
a good plan. It was an
awesome
plan. It would work. It had to.
Malek tossed his weapons into his locker.
Great, now Io was mated. First Micah, then Sev and Ari, and now Io. La-dee-fucking-da for them.
At least the team had been given the night off while shit got sorted out with the cluster fuck Io’s mating had created. He could go to the Black Garter, buy a private dance or two, then go home and take care of the nagging ache in his balls.
“You going to the Garter, Malek?” Micah said, his voice quiet even though they were the only two in the locker room.
“Get out of my head, Micah.”
“Actually, I’m making it a point to stay out of your head right now, and you of all people know how hard that is for me to do.” Micah paused, tossing a pair of gloves in his locker. “You’ve just got that look.”
“Yeah? What look is that?”
“The same one you’ve had since Gina left. Only worse”
Malek momentarily froze at the mention of Gina’s name. “That’s none of your business.”
Micah huffed. “You’ve changed, Mal.”
He shoved his feet into his casual shoes after tossing his combat boots into his locker. “So have you, Mike. What of it?”
“Yeah, but you’ve changed for the worse.”
“Fuck you.”
“See, you’re starting to sound like old me.” Micah brushed his fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, well
old
you knows the
real
score, doesn’t he?” Malek tossed him an over-the-shoulder look that made it clear that he was referring to an even older Micah than Micah had been talking about.
The two of them went way back, all the way to the time when King Bain’s father, Bain the First, ruled the vampire race. In fact, Micah had trained the current King Bain in combat.
Back then, Micah had been Malek’s best friend. They had done everything together, and everyone had mistaken them for brothers. They looked enough alike to pass as brothers, too, except Malek was shorter than Micah. They both had black hair that fell over their shoulders, groomed facial stubble, same build. Micah’s eyes and mouth were more angular, though. Malek had softer angles to his face.
But the similarities didn’t stop there. They had similar pasts, too. They had both lost mates in the Middle Ages. Micah had fallen further into the depths of living hell than Malek had, but only because Malek had hidden it better. Now, everything was unraveling. Micah had found a new mate and was returning to the hero he had been so long ago, but Malek’s despair had opened like an old, unhealed wound to seep sewage throughout his system.
And Gina was the cause. Damn her to hell.
Malek stood up and shut his locker. “Mind your own business, Micah.”
“Not gonna happen, and you know it. It’s time you faced facts, old friend.”
Malek spun around and shoved Micah against the line of lockers. “I’ve had enough of your shit. You have no idea what this is about.” He knew it was a lie. Micah knew everything and always would. It was what made Micah…well, Micah.
Micah arched an eyebrow and hit him with a level glare. “You’re the one who let her leave, dickhead.”
He jerked back and glared at Micah, but he couldn’t find the words to offer a smart enough retort.
Micah pushed forward and got in Malek’s face. “If you wanted her so badly, why did you let her leave, dumbass? Oh wait, because you still haven’t dealt with Carmen’s death. That’s right.”
“You fucking bastard.” Malek didn’t care if he was half a foot shorter than Micah. He was still strong and held black belts in every discipline. He could hold his own. He shoved Micah back hard. “I knew you’d been in my head.”
When was Micah not in someone’s head? But he usually didn’t talk about the shit he found there.
He took a swing at Micah, who blocked him with one hand and sent his other fist into Malek’s gut with such ease it looked like the guy hadn’t even tried. But that was Micah. It was stupid to have gone up against him like that, because he had the hand-to-hand down like a pro. If Malek was a black belt, Micah was a double black belt.
Malek bent over Micah’s arm, his diaphragm paying his lungs a visit as he coughed and gasped for air.
“Have I got your attention?” Micah grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up before pushing him back against the lockers.
Malek could only cough and sputter as he tried to catch his breath.
“Good,” Micah said. “Now, maybe you’ll listen to me. Wake up, Malek. You need to get over this shit now. Your reason for living is out there, asshole. Go. Find. Her.”
Malek shook his head, anger and resentment building and filling him with blackness. “Fuck you.” He coughed. “I don’t want that bitch.” Maybe if just kept saying that, it would become true.
Micah sneered and dropped him like he was cold leftovers not fit to feed to his dog. “You can’t lie to me, Malek.” He jabbed his finger against Malek’s temple, making it clear he could see everything, including the truth, inside Malek’s melon.
He smacked Micah’s hand away.
With a huff, Micah pressed forward and got all up in Malek’s grill. “Deny it all you want, but you know I know the truth.”
“Yeah, well this time you’re wrong.” Malek would prove it. Carmen’s memory was too pristine to soil with Gina or any other female.
“Uh-huh. Sure I am.” Navy blue eyes bore deep into Malek’s. “If I could find my way back, so can you, old friend.”
The sincerity of Micah’s words dug into Malek’s soul, but it only made him angrier. No one had a right to make reference to Carmen. Not even Micah.
Malek pushed him away. “Leave me alone,
old friend
.”
Micah shook his head with disappointment. “Have it your way.” He turned for the door. “Tell the girls at the Garter Sam says hi.” With that, Micah opened the door and walked out.
Malek sat back down on the bench. Fuck Micah. Who did he think he was, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong?
Suddenly, he didn’t feel like going to the Garter, anymore. He wanted something else. The woman he had taken home last night. She had been nice.
He left the locker room and hit the underground parking garage where he got in his SUV and pulled out.
In less than ten minutes, he was trolling the streets around Four Alarm, sniffing the air for the woman’s scent. Was Jess working? Would she be available? Would she want to go with him again after he tossed his cookies after fucking her last night? Surely, she would. No one else would pay her what he would.
Five minutes later, he spied her leaning down on the passenger side of a car up ahead. She was talking to the driver and reaching for the handle when Malek pulled up and parked on the other side of the car, blocking traffic.
“Jess!”
She popped up and looked at him over the top of the car, and he nodded his head for her to come with him.
“Hey, buddy, she’s mine.” The driver of the car shot an angry, resentful look his way.
“Wrong,
buddy,
” Malek said, glaring at him. “She’s coming with me.” He flashed a stack of cash at Jess.
She hustled to the front of the guy’s car and Malek pulled up so she could jump in.
“Hi,” she said as he quickly pulled away from the curb. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“Turns out I had a change of heart.”
She smiled. “You want to call me Gina again?”
Malek grinned at her. “How about I just call you Jess tonight?”
She took the money he held out and shook her head. “Baby, you can call me anything you want.”
Good then. It was settled.
He headed toward his house.
Miriam paced in her room. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Being cooped up here drove her nuts.
A light knock came at her door and Persephone poked her head in.
“Seph, hey. What are you doing here?” What a surprise. Under the circumstances, she assumed she wouldn’t even be allowed guests.
Seph stepped inside and quietly closed the door. “I came with my dad. He’s with the other liaisons and consultants, meeting with your father.” Seph’s curious grin spread over her face. “So?”
Miriam sat down on her bed with its sheer, lacy canopy. Like Io’s, the bed had been custom made, but unlike Io’s, it was shaped like a giant oval, not a square. But the dainty canopy was where the princess persona stopped. Miriam had thought it provided an interesting contrast to the black, faux leather comforter and red, silk pillows she had decorated the bed with.
Looking around the room, all the décor contrasted with the furniture. An antique bureau was draped with a black lace runner that hung down both sides. And gargoyle bookends guarded her volumes of classic literature on her handcrafted, cherry wood desk. Two walls were painted a drastic midnight blue, and the other two were a more soothing shade of cream. Lavishly framed portraits of dragons, sorcerers, and other mystical creatures adorned the walls alongside scenic vistas…and even a couple of gorgeous Japanese murals.
Everything in the room was of the finest quality and taste, but the décor made it clear that the decorator was in the middle of an identity crisis.
“So…what?” She said. Her cheeks blazed and she fought back a grin. Clearly, Seph wanted to know what had happened with Io, but she wasn’t sure how much she should tell.
Seph flounced into the Elizabethan chair beside the bed. “How did it go with Io? That’s what.”
“Oh, him.” Miriam waved her hand and shrugged.
“Yes.
Him.
You know, the one you were all gaga over.” Seph huffed. “Stop playing, Miri. I know he curls your toes.”
Miriam issued Seph a sideways glance as she sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled wide then fell back. “Oh God, Seph. He’s….” she couldn’t think of the right words to describe just what Io was and what he did to her.
Seph got up and joined her on the bed, lying down next to her, propped on her elbow. “Yes?”
Miriam turned her head and laughed at the look on Seph’s face.
Seph slapped her arm. “Stop it! Now tell me!”
“Hey, okay!” She rubbed where Seph had slapped her. “I’ll tell you.”
They sat up again and Miri pulled the canopy around the bed, a habit that had formed in her youth when she wanted to disappear from her life. When the canopy was pulled, she fell into her own private world where nothing bad could touch her. Not even her domineering father.
She crawled into the center of the bed with Seph and they sat facing each other, legs crossed.
“Okay, spill,” Seph said, her face full of anticipation.
What to tell and what not to tell? Miriam pondered all that had happened between her and Io. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
“Things started out bad. I was messed up when I got there, as you know.” Miriam rolled her eyes and picked at a piece of lint on her comforter.
“Yeah, but I can tell something happened.” Persephone wiggled closer.
“Oh? How can you tell?” Miriam arched one eyebrow.
Seph squirmed and lifted her shoulders as she leaned forward. “You have this I’m-so-in-love glow about you. Did he kiss you?”
Miriam rolled her eyes again and looked away, trying not to smile. But before she could stop herself, her face lit up. She had to be glowing.
“He did, didn’t he? Oh my God.” Seph’s mouth dropped open and she gasped.
“Maybe a little.” Miriam laughed. Seph looked so funny, all gaping astonishment.
Persephone shook her head, smiling. “I knew it!” Sadness filled her eyes for only a moment, but Miriam saw it.
“What’s wrong?” Miriam scooted closer and took Seph’s hands.
“It’s nothing.” Seph glanced away as if ashamed to be Debbie Downer.
“No. What is it? Something’s wrong. Tell me.” Miriam leaned to the side to catch Seph’s gaze.
With a sigh, Seph tried to smile, but her gentle, blue-grey eyes remained sad. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you, Miriam. But….”
“But you’re thinking about Arion, aren’t you?”
Seph nodded. “Yes. But not so much Arion. Sure, I liked him, but I had been more excited at the prospect of being mated, even if Arion never formed a biological link to me.” She sighed again. “For a few hours, I had been so happy.” A faraway look shone in her eyes.
“Your mate will come, Persephone. And when he does, you’ll never give Arion—or any male, for that matter—another thought. You’ll be so thankful the mating to Arion fell apart. Your true mate’s touch will send you to the moon.” Miriam squeezed Seph’s hands and her face lit with the knowledge of how Io made her feel. She knew from experience what finding a true mate felt like, and nothing compared. “You’ll be the most precious thing to him, and he’ll honor you in a way no other male will be capable of.”
Seph cocked her head to the side, watching Miriam closely, her blond brows knitting together. “Miriam?”
Miriam looked at her. “What?”
“Did Io mate you?”
For a moment, Miriam said nothing, but she felt the color drain from her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Seph to know what had happened, but she hadn’t meant to blurt it out so soon.
“Oh my God! He did, didn’t he?” Seph’s face lit up.
There was no use hiding the truth. “Yes.” She sounded like she was admitting to doing something she had been told expressly not to do, but in a way that said she would do it again if given the chance. “He did.”
Seph gave her a stern but playful look. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.” Miriam shrugged innocently.
“Uh-huh. Okay, so you have to tell me everything. You do know that, right? Because if he mated you, then I know he broke all kinds of your father’s rules and touched you.”
Miriam smirked and rolled her eyes. “You would bring that up, wouldn’t you?”
“Sorry, but it’s true.”
