Shift Work (Carus #4) (25 page)

“I should’ve tried harder to make you listen. I know that, but…”

When he broke into a heavy silence, I cleared my throat. “But what?”

“But I wanted you. This news might drive you away, and I selfishly wanted to be with you one last time.”

“Well, shit. This is big, isn’t it?” My throat dried out and began to ache. The room spun, yet time slowed.

He nodded.

“So you haven’t decided you don’t want a mate?”

Tristan growled, the sound so deep and feral it vibrated the room and travelled along my bones. “I’ve never wanted something, someone, more than I want you. I want you as my mate. I want to mark the soft skin of your neck and claim you as mine for all to see. No, I haven’t decided against mating. My heart is yours.”

I threw my hands up and ignored my fast beating heart. “Then, this is silly. Honestly! What could be so bad to come between us now?” Whatever he told me, we’d work through it. We had to.

“I killed your family.”

Chapter Thirty-One

“If someone breaks your heart, just punch them in the face. Seriously. Punch them in the face and go get some ice cream.”

~Frank Ocean

A splattering of emotions smacked the inside of my head as stiff silence descended on the room.

My mind raced, trying to find answers, but instead of coming to any destination, my brain cells kept desperately sending signals around in circles. My chest constricted as my feet grew heavy as lead, sinking into the plush rug. Killed my family? What did he mean? How was that possible? “My dad died in a car accident and my mom of natural causes at a ripe old age.”

“Your biological parents.”

His statement replayed over and over again in my mind. I must’ve misheard him. He couldn’t possible have killed my biological family. I didn’t know who they were. Besides, he wouldn’t have done that.

Would he?

Well, maybe… He’d been under Ethan’s control. By Tristan’s own admission, he’d done awful things at Ethan’s orders. His past held secrets, darkness, and shame.

The scrambled, hot mess in my brain gave way to a wave of hot anger. My knuckles popped and my canines elongated as my muscles quivered, demanding action. Heat flushed my veins as my pulse sped up.

Tristan killed my family, and he’d slept with me knowing the truth.

“Explain.” My voice cracked.

He hesitated. “Norms weren’t solely responsible for the Shifter Shankings. A lot of supes cashed in on the anger to take out threats, competition, and those with power or territory. The Shifters had a lot of influence, finding it easy to assimilate with norm society before the Purge.”

He took a deep breath, probably to give me an opportunity to comment. I didn’t.

He continued, “Ethan was among the supes to capitalize on the mass exterminations. He ordered me to systematically eradicate Shifter families that held prominent positions. I destroyed a lot of families. It’s a past I cannot escape and one that haunts me to this day.”

Digest information, breathe, repeat.
Who the hell had my parents been that they made it on some douchebag’s kill list? “Go on.”

“Ethan specified I was to kill the targets and anyone else inside their home. I tried to end their lives as quickly and painlessly as possible, as Ethan hadn’t dictated that detail, but your mother and father fought back valiantly. After it was over, I understood why.” His mouth turned down, and the lines in his forehead creased.

The sour tang of his emotions wafted from his pores in a steady stream. The air in the living room compressed, as if our sadness bogged it down into a stuffy cesspool of emotions. Tristan ran a hand through his dark locks before continuing. “A baby. There was a baby in the house they protected with their lives. I’d avoided killing children on Ethan’s orders previously by choosing a time they were out of the house. You weren’t supposed to be there. The babysitter had stopped by to pick you up.”

My chest tightened.

“The compulsion rode me hard, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill an innocent baby, one that didn’t smell of the forest, but more like a Christmas tree lot, filled with saplings and young spruce, cedar and fir. One that smelled of potential.” His soft sapphire gaze flicked up to meet mine.

My body trembled.

“I fought Ethan’s control long enough to carry you out of the house. The compulsion lifted. Ethan had ordered me to kill your parents and those inside their home. I could’ve saved a lot of lives, had I figured out the loophole sooner, had I not been in such a servant daze. My stupidity and weakness will forever be one of my greatest shames.” His voice shook with his last words. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists.

“Have you always known?” He already implied he hadn’t, but I needed to ask.

He shook his head. “Your scent has changed a lot since then. When we met at Lucien’s, it struck me as familiar, as comfortable, as home, but I couldn’t place it. I assumed it was a part of the mating call.”

“What changed?”

“A moment. Almost two weeks ago when you came to my place. A movement of yours, a gesture, it triggered a memory of your mother. The flashback memory and knowing you were born during the Purge and adopted created this awful realization that our paths might’ve crossed before. As soon as that thought surfaced, I couldn’t rest until I discovered the truth.”

“Why wait to tell me now? Why not tell me your suspicions right away?”

“On a suspicion? Why drag up your painful past only to learn I had nothing to do with it? I wanted to be sure.”

“And now? Now, you’re sure?” I gulped, knowing his answer before he spoke, dreading it, yet hoping beyond reason he might answer differently.

His shoulders dropped, and he nodded. “I tracked down the adoption agency, and my team hacked their records. I’ll never forget the day, much less the date, I dropped you off at that agency. Your file’s information confirmed my worst nightmare.”

“
Your
worst nightmare?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “This happened in the past, before we knew each other, when my life wasn’t my own to live. Ethan was responsible, and he’s dead.”

I’d chopped the fucker’s head off myself.

“There’s a silver lining.”

My upper lip snarled on its own. “What good could possibly come of this?”

“You have a family, Andy. There were kid toys in another room. The babysitter must’ve picked up only him instead of both of you.”

“Him?”

“You have an older brother. You have a family, Andy. And I know where to find them. That’s where I’ve been. Unfortunately, there was no cell reception.”

He still could’ve called when he got back to civilization, like he had with Angie. Or used a landline.

A family? I had a family?

My heart spasmed in my chest again. No. No more. I couldn’t take any more knowledge bombs today. An invisible weight settled on my shoulders. “I need some time to process this. I’d like you to leave.”

“Andy—”

“Leave.”

Tristan’s sapphire gaze glittered. He squeezed his eyes shut, and his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, and balled his hands into fists. With a deep breath, he turned his gaze to me. He leaned forward and reached out with his hand. When I didn’t move, he dropped his hand back to his side. His lips pursed. “I will give you time, Andy, but we’re not done.”

My chest became empty, numb. My muscles weak and tired. Coldness seeped into my veins, washing away the hot anger. Time appeared to slow again as I studied the conflicting expressions on Tristan’s face through blurry vision.

Tristan continued to study my face silently until he slowly nodded, as if he answered his own internal question. After spearing me with a long soulful look, he walked out of the room.

I did nothing, said nothing, to stop him, yet the whole time, I couldn’t shake this awful gut-wrenching feeling I’d failed him, not the other way around.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Legend says when you can’t sleep, it’s because you’re awake in someone else’s dream.”

~Japanese Legend

The conversation with Tristan left me raw and unsure. Yes, Tristan’s actions were in the past, before he met me, before he had control of his life, but could I live with, bond with, have children with the murderer of my family? Knowingly?

He’d slept with me suspecting the truth. Maybe I should be thankful he didn’t wait to reveal the truth until after the mating bond.

My heart convulsed in my chest as I crawled into bed. I still needed to connect the missing dots in the Loretta-KK case. I didn’t have time for heartache and misery.

I wished Tristan had never told me.

If I’d never learned the truth, what pain or harm would it have caused?
Honesty is the best policy?
Not so sure on that one. Blissful ignorance looked real appealing right now.

Tristan admitted he had an ugly past. He struggled to live with it, as I did. We both had a pretty dirty rap-sheet. Could he have lived with keeping this secret from me, too? Doubtful. He wanted no secrets. He wanted honesty. He wanted me. And despite knowing this truth would hurt both of us, he told me one of his deepest, darkest secrets.

I’d sent him away. Should I be the bigger person? What did that even look like?

With a mangled cry, I shoved my face into my pillow and curled up, pulling the soft comforter around me. Tristan’s stale scent still cocooned me, as if comforting me in his absence.

The last few attempts of sleep had been disastrous without him. My chest hollowed. I would’ve given my life for Tristan to live. Had that changed?

Another sob escaped my mouth.

No.

I loved him.

Would that be enough? I’d loved Wick, too, but I’d broken things off with him for our mutual safety. In retrospect, he’d done far less to me than Tristan. But that was different, wasn’t it? Neither man had a choice in their actions, but Tristan completed his sins before he knew me, Wick had hurt me while in a relationship with me. Sort of. He hadn’t wanted to.

Tristan had fought the compulsion to get me to safety, before he knew I’d be his mate.

What was Tristan thinking right now? Did he hate me for sending him away? Had I failed him somehow? Not exactly the perfect picture of a supportive mate. Did Tristan lie awake in his Port Moody bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep like me?

Sleep.

It should’ve been harder to come by, but I’d been running on empty for too long, that it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when my thoughts began to drift into incoherent images.

I needed to forgive Tristan, make things right.

Visions of my lover’s face grew fuzzy, distorted like objects in a deep fog. When the streams of light punctured the thick mist, Tristan’s face was replaced with Sid’s.

Sid!

I bolted upright, only to find myself on the mossy floor of a dense forest, not my bed. What the heck? I palmed the moist soil and held it out. It floated off my palm like fairy dust, carrying away its fresh earthy scent. Wind gently wove around the broad tree trunks, but instead of carrying the penetrating cold of Lower Mainland weather, it held the warmth of a summer’s breeze on a beach.

Sid smiled and grabbed my hands. “Dance with me, beautiful anchor.”

He twirled me around and around until the setting changed. Trees gave way to sand dunes, and green gave way to the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean.

“You look so much like Fera’s daughter,” he said before he ducked to kiss my cheek. Before I could punch him in the face, he skipped down the beach. Mermaids swam onto rocks offshore and called out to him.

“This is fucked,” I breathed and followed after the Seducer Demon. Obviously, we were in some dream state, but this time things felt different. Before, Sid would invade my dreams and manipulate them with gleeful satisfaction and feed off any sexual energy he created.

This time the dream…my dream? I glanced around the unfamiliar landscape as it once again morphed into a different scene. This one looked like a stone room in a castle. Large slabs of concrete fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, and outlined the large space. Old tapestries hung from the walls and thread-bare rugs covered the floors, at least the parts I could see. The rest of the room was filled with naked humans, entwined together, writhing in ecstatic delight. Sid walked into the centre and flung his head back and his arms wide.

Seen that look before.

The energy in the room waned as Sid drew it into his essence to feed.

This was his dream.

Holy crap, I’d invaded Sid’s dream somehow.

Did that mean I could control it? I closed my eyes and focused my energy on the graphic scene on the other side of my shut lids. What would ruin this for Sid? What took the sexy out of sexy time?

A leg cramp?

A man hollered in pain.

A stomach bug?

A woman moaned, and her feet slapped against bare stone as she ran from the room to vomit outside.

Explosive diarrhea?

“No!” A couple gasped. I opened my eyes and watched them spring up and run from the room covering their bums. Thankfully the sounds of their running disappeared around the corner so I didn’t have to hear the result of that one.

The rest of the norm mass kept writhing and gasping with pleasure. I’d made a little dent in Sid’s smorgasbord of sexual energy. He hadn’t noticed anything…yet.

Challenge accepted.

With gritted teeth, I sent every person left in the room thoughts, actions and inactions—mood killers. Some lay prone doing their best starfish impersonations, some started barking like dogs, some talked incessantly about their days, while others just made weird slurping sounds.

More. Needed more. Garlic belches, eye-watering farts, bad clichéd dirty talk, kids crying in the background, and mother-in-laws talking in the next room. My favorite was the one man who bumped around awkwardly, apologized, and asked permission for each kiss, lick, or, well, otherwise, with a fake English accent.

Nice touch, McNeilly.

The energy in the room quickly dissipated, and not from the sex leech sucking it up. My job done, I beamed.

Sid’s head snapped down, his eyes bugged open and he turned toward me. “ANDY!” he roared.