United (The Ushers) (6 page)

“That’s why I’m apologizing. I want to spare you my burdens, not share them with you. And I’m too damned weak to stay away from you.”

Right then, Monica had a flash of premonition about their path. Their future would be full of political upheaval as he fulfilled his role in Unification. That was the job, and they’d shoulder it together. The real obstacles were the personal upheaval he carried in his heart every day. The inner demons that had forced him away from her were sadists, intent on torturing his psyche. She’d never experienced depression herself—not even when her first mate had died and she’d become a ghost. Grief, yes. Grief was an old companion, but depression was a new fiend to face.

“Darling, listen to me,” she said. “That voice in your head telling you that you are weak? That voice that tells you you’ve fucked up? That you deserve to hurt? That voice is a lying bitch, and she can go to hell, but she is not going to take you with her, do you hear me?”

“Oh damn, Mo.” She head his voice breaking and longed to hold him through the sob she heard rip from his chest. “How did you know exactly what I needed to hear?”

“I’m playing this by instinct. I know that you’re a good man, a strong man. A man I love. I won’t let the lying bitch keep us apart anymore, okay?”

“I love you,” he said finally. “I’m so scared to be with you because I love you.”

“I love you, too, Fionn Murphy. Don’t be scared. What we have, it’s the greatest blessing of our kind. It’s a gift.”

“Thank you, honey. Thank you for being exactly who I need.” His smoky voice made her heart sing and weep at the same time.

“Fionn…are you alone?” she asked, standing and shutting her office door, locking it for good measure.

“Yeah, I’m back at the hotel. Annie’s across the hall.”

“I’m alone in my office, so there wouldn’t really be anyone to see if I decided these jeans weren’t very comfortable right now and I just took them off.” She heard his sharp intake of breath as he realized her intent. She chuckled low in her throat.

“Take them off,” he demanded. “And your shirt, too.”

She did as he asked, sitting back down at her desk in nothing but her underwear.

“Are you wearing anything else that might get uncomfortable?”

“Just a navy blue lace bra and matching panties. The panties are a little wet,” she breathed, closing her eyes and trying to imagine him as he groaned into the phone.

“Darling, you’d better get rid of those,” he warned. “They might get in the way. Now I want you to touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” she asked, her hand trailing down her body to her leg.

“You said you’re in your office? Put your legs over the arms of your chair. Spread yourself wide for me. Imagine I’m sitting on your desk, watching. Now, tease your clit with your middle finger.”

She did as he asked, her breath coming in short pants.

“Imagine it’s my hand giving you pleasure right now. Imagine my tongue there. Would you like me to take over? Or would you prefer to put on a show for me?” His smoky-dark voice made her drip.

“Fuck, Fionn, I just want you. Every way I can have you,” she whispered.

“Use your other hand to play with your nipples. They’re so pretty, so perfect. Imagine it’s my hands cupping your breasts while you play with that sweet pussy for me. I have my cock out, and I’m stroking with one hand while I pinch and pull and love those nipples with the other, all while I watch you bring yourself closer to the edge.”

“I’m there, love, I’m on the edge now.” It was true. His words and the naughtiness of masturbating in her office in the middle of the afternoon had spurred her lust into a frenzy. She visualized him holding his cock in one hand, the phone in the other, as he told her what he wanted next.

“Mo, I want you to come for me now. I want you to come, and I want to hear my name on your lips as you explode. Give it to me,” he ordered, and her body responded. With a shout, she felt the tension tip past the point of no return, and her body erupted as she cried out and gasped his name. A moment later, she heard his own muffled shout and realized he’d followed her over the edge.

Just before she hung up, she whispered, “Hurry home, love. Monday can’t get here fast enough.”

Chapter Six

F
IONN
S
AT
O
N
T
HE
F
RONT
P
ORCH
S
WING
at his childhood home, watching Dev shooting hoops in the driveway with some of Ted’s wolves. Rose sat next to him in the swing, snuggled under his arm. She was braiding the hair on her doll, talking about her mother. These were the parenting moments he missed the most when he was away from his kids. The weight of a child—his child—in his arms was the sweetest burden. He loved the smell of her hair and the softness of her laughter, and the way she accepted him unconditionally. His presence was enough to make her happy. He didn’t think there was any feeling in the world that quite compared to this one.

“Rose, your uncle Jack and his wife are having a baby,” he told her. “They just found out it’s going to be a girl.”

“Cool! I’m going to have a cousin?”

“Yep. I have some other news, too.” He stroked his beard absently as he thought how to tell her. He decided to come right out with it. “I’m getting married next week.”

“With a suit and a white dress and everything?” she asked, a wistful expression stealing across her young face.

“No, we’re going to keep it low-key.” He couldn’t imagine trying to explain the werewolf mating ritual to an eight-year-old. Thankfully, he didn’t have to: her eight-year-old mind had already skipped ahead of him.

“I always hoped you’d marry my mom,” she told him.

“I know, Rosie. But your mom and I are really different. She’s a great woman, but she and I were never in love. You understand? I like your mom, a lot, but we aren’t ever going to be in love the way Monica and I are.”

“Why did you guys have a baby together if you don’t love each other?” Serious green eyes met his.

“Because we—Rosie. I don’t want you to ever think you were a mistake, okay? You are a wonderful gift. Your mom and I didn’t plan to have a baby together, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t excited to have you and love you.”

“And the same with Devon’s mom?”

“The same,” he confirmed.

“Are you and your wife going to have a baby?”

“Maybe someday. I hope. Would you like to be a big sister?”

She pondered the question, her hand stilling on the doll’s hair. Her little brow furrowing, she nodded. “I think yes. But you live so far away now.”

“I know, sweetness, but you can come visit, and we’ll come down here to see Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Ted, and you know Grandma and Grandpa love it when you come here to see them, too.”

“How come Grandma and Grandpa don’t look like other grandparents?”

Fionn nearly choked.
Oh shit.
This was certainly not how he’d expected the subject to come up. “
Annie, help,”
he pleaded.

“You have to tell her. And Dev.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You’re the second Usher. You do as you damn well please. And you have to tell your kids what you are.”

“Dev, son, why don’t you come over here for a minute?” he called.

His son caught a rebound, then tossed the basketball to one of the other players and sat on the porch with Fionn and Rose.

“I need to tell you guys something, and I want you to ask me as many questions as you need to, okay? It’s kind of a big deal.” His eyes met those of his son—sweet Dev, who was in that awkward geeky adolescence; his bones were trying to make him a man before his muscles and features caught up.

“What’s up, Dad?” Dev asked.

“Your sister asked me why Grandma and Grandpa don’t look like other grandparents.”

“Grandma buys good face cream?” Dev suggested.

“Cute, but no.” Fionn smiled at his suddenly wary son. Dev had caught on a lot more than he had let on, and clearly, there was some denial involved. “Your grandparents are actually very, very old. I’m pretty old myself, actually.”

“You’re the youngest dad out of any of my friends,” Dev protested.

“I was born in 1970,” he told them. “Your uncles Ted and Jack? They are way older than me. Old enough to be my dad, or even granddad by most standards. They were born in the 1920s. Patrick was born in 1915.”

“That’s impossible.” Dev shook his head.

I’m sorry, son.

“I’m a shapeshifter. I turn into a wolf during the full moon and whenever else I feel like it.”

“Ha ha, Dad. Not funny.” Dev scowled.

“Devon Murphy. I am not joking.” Fionn’s voice dropped low. “I will change for you, if you need to see proof with your eyes.”

“Daddy, will you be scary?” Rose asked, her eyes huge.

“Love, I’ll be like a great big puppy dog. A really big puppy dog. You don’t need to be scared of me.”

“Okay, so you’re telling us that you’re a werewolf, but you’re just gonna turn into a dog and let us scratch your ears?” Dev’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Dad, this is the lamest joke ever.”

“Okay. I get it, Dev. You need to see? Let me show you.” Fionn strode down the steps to the front yard, stripped down to his underwear, and shifted. He shook his head and bared his teeth as his fur grew over his body. He had never thought about what a wolf changing might look like to someone who had never seen it before. He’d grown up with the knowledge that this was part of him, part of his life. His change was always fast, and within moments, he was looking at his children with wolf eyes.

Devon was horrified. He ran into the house without a word. Fionn felt a whine escape his throat. His son would not accept this easily. He turned to face his little Rose. She was standing now, at the bottom of the steps. Slowly, cautiously, he approached her. He lay down on the ground in front of her and let her bury her fingers in his fur. A small giggle pealed out of her, and his tongue lolled out. His daughter, his Rosie, was scratching his ears. When she took her hand away, he butted it with his head. He was relishing this contact with his daughter, something he’d never imagined he’d have. He nosed her hand and licked at her face like a pup.

“Daddy, you’re awesome,” she whispered with another giggle.

He felt his heart swell with joy. He’d never thought to hear such an accolade from his child, but it was the sweetest sound his ears had ever heard. Annie came out of the house, a solemn look on her face.

“Is he going to be okay?”
he asked in her head.

She shook her head, a grim frown marring her usually serene features.

“He’s going back to his mom’s house. He refuses to stay here with us.”

Fionn threw his head back in a howl of grief.

“It’s okay, Daddy, don’t be sad.” Rose scratched his nose and pressed her face up close to his.

“Can you ask her to go inside for a minute?”
he asked Annie, who nodded.

“Rose, honey, why don’t you come inside with me for a minute. Your daddy wants to change back, and he doesn’t want to be embarrassed because he isn’t wearing his clothes.” She gestured to the scraps of fabric that had been his underwear before the shift.

Rose giggled again and pressed a kiss to the end of his muzzle before taking Annie’s hand.

Fionn shifted back to his human form and threw his pants on before following them into the house, his T-shirt shoved into the waistband of his pants.

“Dev?” he called out his son’s name, starting up the stairs toward the guest room, where he was staying.

“Go away. You’re a freak,” Dev shouted, his voice muffled. “I want to go home.”

“Devon. I love you, but your mother and I have taught you better than to call someone a freak because of how they were born. I was born a wolf. You were born fully human. Neither of us is a freak.” He drew a deep breath. “I am sorry that I sprung this on you like this. Your mother doesn’t know. Can I ask you to keep my secret?”

The door opened. His son looked him in the eye, adolescent eyes rimmed with tears. Lower lip trembling, Devon drew himself up to his full height.

“Am I going to turn into what you are?” he asked.

“No, son. Your mother is human; you’re human. My mother, your Grandma Roisin, is wolf; I’m wolf.”

“I’ll keep your secret. But I don’t want to be here.” Devon’s eyes dropped to the floor. “And I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Fionn felt his heart breaking as he looked at his son, this young man it seemed he barely knew. He had nobody to blame but himself for this moment. He was the one who had decided distance would be best. It was his choice to hold his children at arm’s length except at times of convenience.

“Dev, son, I love you. I hope in time, you can forgive me for the way I told you. I’m not going to ask you to forgive me for being different. This is who I am, and I make no apologies for it. Do you want me to drive you to your mother’s house?”