Blood Diamond (55 page)

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Authors: R. J. Blain

Tags: #Fiction, #Urban Fantasy

BOOK: Blood Diamond
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“Maybe you should talk to him before you start calling him names and bad words. You also owe him an apology for biting him. Young ladies do not bite people,” I said, careful to keep my tone gentle. “Can you do that for me?”

While she didn’t say a word, she nodded.

I sighed, looking at her hair and shaking my head. “You definitely have my hair. Leave it alone for a second, and it looks like something nested in it. Evelyn, do you have a brush?”

Evelyn burst out into laughter, crawled to her purse, and pulled out a comb. “Yours is a bit of a mess, I have to admit.”

I huffed at her, taking the comb. “Sit,” I told my daughter, patting the couch next to me. She obeyed, watching me with wide eyes. While I had meant for her to turn with her back facing me, I went to work, careful not to pull on her hair as I attacked the tangled mess. “When was the last time this was brushed?”

She looked down at her lap and sniffled, but didn’t reply.

“You’re not in trouble, Jacqueline. I might have to pull on your hair a little as I do this, okay? Just tell me if it hurts too much.”

Even when I knew it had to hurt, she didn’t complain or cry, which both made me proud and broke my heart at the same time. Evelyn watched me with amusement as I picked my daughter up and turned her around so I could braid her hair.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Evelyn complimented me when I finished tying the ribbon into place.

I didn’t have the courage to tell Evelyn I used to, when it had been long enough, took care of Suzanne’s hair for her. I forced a smile and said, “Practice.”

Judging by the way she sucked in a breath and widened her eyes, Evelyn understood.

~~*~~

Evelyn ruled as a queen with her cell phone, summoning my parents, my brother, and Bishop Carlisle with a single call. To my dismay, they weren’t alone. Richard followed in their wake, leveling a glare at me as he closed the door behind him.

Jacqueline tried to worm her way behind me on the couch with limited success. While she did manage to cram her head behind my back, the rest of her stuck out. I sighed, a headache brewing behind my eyes.

“Welcome to parenthood,” my father said, smirking at me.

I drew a deep breath, reminded myself that cursing at my father in front of a bishop wouldn’t reinforce what I wanted to teach Jacqueline, and swallowed back my urge to sigh. “Jacqueline.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Why are you sorry?” I prompted.

“I’m sorry I called you mean and bad names and bit you,” she whispered, and I worried she was too quiet for my father to hear.

He must have, because he closed the distance between us, and knelt next to the couch. “I already forgave you, baby. I’m not angry. Thank you for your apology.”

Whether it was because she was encouraged by my father’s words or decided trying to merge with my spine was as uncomfortable for her as it was for me, she emerged from hiding, sniffling a bit. I held my breath as she regarded my father with narrowed eyes, her expression thoughtful. With another sniffle, which I decided was entirely faked in order to manipulate my father, she held out her hands to be picked up.

My father fell for it, hook, line, and sinker, scooping my daughter up to hold her. With a smirk, she twisted around and stuck her tongue out at me.

I wrinkled my nose and mirrored her, eliciting a giggle from Jacqueline.

“How old are you?” my mother scolded, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re in a church, young man. You know better than that.”

“I can’t win,” I complained to Evelyn.

“Don’t you drag me into this,” my mate replied.

Bishop Carlisle chuckled. “It seems I owe you a tour through the cathedral, Jackson—or should I say, Mr. Anderson.”

I widened my eyes at Anthony. “Jackson is really my name. It’s on my birth certificate.”

“It’s true,” my mother added with a shake of her head. “I think it’s ridiculous, but his father absolutely insisted.”

“Perhaps you will want to accept a postponement, all things considered? I won’t be offended.”

I turned my attention. “Jacqueline, do you want to see all of the cathedral?”

“Okay.”

I decided okay meant yes. “She wants to see the cathedral, if it isn’t a burden on you.”

“Not at all. You won the wager, fair and square. It’s an honor to keep my end of the bargain. I never make a promise I can’t keep.” He smiled at me. “I suppose we’ll begin here, with my office.”

Anthony showed us the cathedral, including the bell tower. With the patience of a saint, Anthony answered Jacqueline’s endless stream of questions. I suspected my daughter was somehow siphoning away all of my energy, because by the time the tour ended, she was energized and I was exhausted.

I was too grateful she was alive and with me to ruin her enjoyment of the cathedral because I was tired.

Chapter Twenty-Five

In the shade of the trees behind the cathedral, the discussion of what to have for lunch was lively enough to disgust me. All I wanted was to find a dark, quiet place to curl up and sleep while under the influence of the largest dose of painkillers my prescriptions allowed. My efforts to interrupt the debate, which had been whittled down to a choice of pizza, rotisserie, and Mexican, were ignored.

Jacqueline came to my rescue by slapping her hands against her hips, stomping her foot, and declaring, “No.”

The discussion of where to eat ground to a halt. It was Richard who finally asked, “Why not?”

“Daddy’s tired.”

“Fu—”

I voiced a wordless snarl at Richard, and he shut his mouth with a clack of his teeth. “Sorry.”

Grunting an acceptance of his apology, I rested my chin on Evelyn’s shoulder.

My mate took pity on me by saying, “I think Jacqueline is right. Therefore, we will continue our discussion at the hotel. I hear they have this newfangled thing called delivery in this city.”

“How fancy,” my father murmured, his expression neutral. My mother elbowed him.

“You’re not funny,” my daughter proclaimed, glaring at her grandfather.

“She learned that one from you,” Evelyn whispered in my ear.

I held my breath, wondering just how that was possible. Richard likewise gawked at my daughter before staring at me in silent questioning. I held my hands up, at a loss of how my daughter had learned the phrase. It wasn’t something Suzanne had ever said. She had hated it with a passion, scolding me whenever I uttered it, even when I had been on a call with Richard.

“It’s bad enough that you have a twin, Dante. You did not need to produce a clone,” my father scolded.

“Dad!” Elliot protested.

“You’re
really
not funny,” Jacqueline hissed, turning to me and hugging my legs. “Don’t listen to him, Daddy.”

“I have it on the highest authority that I shouldn’t listen to you,” I replied, and despite the throbbing in my chest and my exhaustion, I bent over and picked my daughter up. “Good girl.”

“Let me take her,” Evelyn said, holding out her arms for Jacqueline. I was abandoned for my mate, who smiled smugly at me. “Let’s get Jackson back to the hotel before he falls over again.”

“You’re not funny,” I grumbled under my breath.

Evelyn elbowed me and stuck out her tongue.

~~*~~

When Jacqueline ended up asleep in Evelyn’s arms before we made it back to the hotel, I huffed my triumph, which earned me a glare from Evelyn and my mother.

“If you wake her up, you’re a dead man,” my mate promised me.

“I think he’s had enough close brushes with death this month,” Richard grumbled, glaring at me. “Stop it. Just stop it.”

I had a feeling the Fenerec wouldn’t wait much longer before taking me aside for a terse heart to heart, which likely included a close-up inspection of my aching chest. “I’ll try.”

“Try?” Richard’s tone rose in pitch.

“Don’t you wake her either, Mr. Murphy,” Evelyn hissed.

We rode the elevator in silence, and I spent the time engaging Richard in a glaring contest. I wasn’t sure which one of us was the victor when we reached the top floor. He growled at me, a wordless rumble in his chest, which I answered with a huff, since there was no way I could match his deep tones. Smirking in response, he led the way to the suite I shared with my parents.

I reached out a hand at his back, curling my fingers into claws despite knowing he couldn’t see me.

“Your daughter is more mature than you are,” Elliot chided, shaking his head at me.

“I’m still your older brother, and I’m not above dunking your head in the toilet.”

He snorted. “You have never dunked anyone’s head in a toilet in your life.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t start with you.”

“Give it up, Jackson. They’ll win eventually. They’ll join forces, and you’ll be powerless to fight them off,” Evelyn said, clucking her tongue at me.

“Don’t give them ideas, please,” I begged.

“Too late, we’ve been planning it since we arrived,” Richard said, waiting at the door.

I pulled the key card out of my pocket and swiped it, shaking my head. Alex, Nicole, Amber, and Vicky were seated at the couch, playing a card game.

“You look like hell,” Vicky said in way of greeting.

“Thanks,” I replied, beelining for the kitchenette, its coffeemaker, and my medications. Richard grabbed the back of my shirt, succeeding in choking me before I halted. “Let go.”

“Food first, then medicine,” the Alpha Fenerec growled in reply.

“Seconded,” Vicky said. “I took the liberty of looking through them while you were gone, and the only one you’re allowed to take without food or lots of water is in the pink box. You can have one of those.”

“Dictators, all of you,” I muttered. “Give me coffee or give me death.”

“I’ll just go put her in bed while the grumpy beast has his coffee,” Evelyn said, pausing to kiss my cheek. “Behave.”

I changed direction to follow after Evelyn. “Grumpy beast help put child to bed before coffee.”

Richard tugged on my shirt again. “All you’ll do is wake her up with your bumbling. There’ll be plenty of time for you to spoil your little girl once you’re capable of constructing complete sentences.”

“Get. Coffee.” Evelyn paused to glare at me before disappearing into the bedroom.

“Go sit, I’ll make the coffee. I heard stories about what you produced at Gerald’s house and dared to call coffee,” Richard said, pushing me towards the couch and armchair. “Nicole, zap him if he gives you any trouble.”

“Jackson is never any trouble,” Nicole said, flashing a smile at me. “Look, he didn’t even need told that he has daddy duties he should attend to, including assisting in putting the baby to sleep. That’s pretty good for someone who decided it was a good idea to leave his hotel room in the wee hours of the morning to go have coffee with a Catholic priest. It’s like a bad joke without a punchline, mainly because it’s unfair to punch the heavily medicated for making stupid decisions.”

“Ouch.” I circled the coffee table, careful to keep well out of Nicole’s reach. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t say I can blame him for deciding to get some fresh air,” my brother said, shaking his head. “You can’t cage a wolf.”

“No, they’re the wolves,” I corrected. “I’m just a witch.”

Shaking his head at me, my twin replied, “Witch or wolf, when it comes to you, there’s no difference.”

“I don’t have fleas, howl at the moon, or have fur.”

“You don’t, but you’re excessively protective, headstrong, stubborn, and you snarl when cranky.” Richard smirked at me, handing me a mug of coffee as I settled on the armchair, along with the little pink pill I recognized as the anti-nausea medication. “Those are all notable Fenerec traits, so therefore I say, ‘Close enough’.”

“Stop taunting my mate,” Evelyn scolded, closing the bedroom door behind her. “I’m pleased to report my mission is accomplished.”

I stared at the door, wondering what my little girl looked like when asleep.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, just go have a look,” Evelyn muttered, shaking her head. “From the doorway, and keep quiet. Nap time is a sacred luxury. Children have two modes of operation: on and off.”

“Language,” my mother scolded.

“Not sorry,” my mate replied, flipping a rude gesture in my mother’s direction.

I froze, holding my breath.

“No fighting,” Richard ordered. “Territory disputes in the hallway or not at all. First, there is a very tired and traumatized little girl sleeping in the other room. Second, there is a very tired, easily provoked, and traumatized Jackson in this room.”

I set my coffee down on the table and hid my face in my hands. “Give me a fucking break already,” I muttered.

“I present the fact that he just cursed in front of not one, not two, but five ladies as my evidence,” Richard finished.

“Maybe I’m a little sorry, but only a little,” Evelyn grumbled, and with boneless grace, she wormed her way onto my lap. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied, leaning back in the chair. I underestimated how far it would tilt back, resulting in a scramble for balance and Evelyn sprawled across my chest. Pain rippled through me, robbing me of my breath.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Jackson. Are you all right?”

“That hurt,” I gasped.

“Elbow right to the chest,” Richard observed with a wince. “I consider you absolved of all of your sins.”

It took me several deep, long breaths to stop wheezing. “That’s something at least.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Evelyn whispered.

 “Eh, he’s tough.” Richard sat on the couch next to Nicole, shaking his head. “While I have a list of questions for him, it’s traditional to wait until he starts resisting to start the torture.”

“Richard!” Evelyn blurted, her face turning as red as her hair.

“She’s obviously lowering his resistance in advance,” my brother said, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful expression. “Well done, Evelyn.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

Grumbling at my brother and friend, I embraced Evelyn and pulled her close to me, not caring that it hurt. I stuck my tongue out at them. “You have failed.”

“Never underestimate the power of Jackson’s pigheadedness,” Amber said, grinning at me. “That hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”

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