Chosen by Fate (21 page)

 

The bastard had split her skin. He could tell, even though there was no open wound or blood in sight, but because of the light pink lashes around her torso and stomach that even now were fading. It should have calmed him down, the reminder that she was immortal. That she couldn’t die. That any wound she suffered was only temporary. But Wraith’s need for pain was obviously far from temporary, and that made him want to kill someone. Not her, but whoever and whatever had forced this upon her. So that the only thing she felt good enough for was this.

He hurled the whip across the room so it thudded against the far wall before falling to the ground. As he continued to stare at her, he had to give her props. She stared back. Even bent the knee of one unrestrained leg and cocked it so she looked sexually uninhibited and inviting.

“So you want in on the action yourself? You didn’t have to knock him out, you know. Ramsey’s used to sharing.”

He glanced down at the were, barely resisting the urge to drive his boot into his face. He looked around, then caught sight of some leather rope. He tied the were’s hands and feet until he was trussed like a pig, then grabbed a pillow off the bed, took off the case, and stuffed it in his mouth. With the other pillowcase, he shoved it over the were’s head and secured it until he looked like a kidnapping victim out of a low-budget B movie. He tossed him in the corner, hard, out of his way, but not out of sight or mind.

“How’d you find me?” The thought that he wasn’t alone must have just dawned on her because she suddenly looked frantic. “Are you here with—”

“They have no idea where you are. Mahone does, but he knows you’re here on your own.”

“So why didn’t you listen to him? You’re ruining my fun.”

“Is that really what it is to you, Wraith? Because you didn’t look like you were having much fun to me.”

“You’re wrong. If you didn’t notice, Dex and I got into it pretty well. It confirmed I really have been out of commission for a while. I’m here to rectify that.”

“This isn’t the type of action you were giving to Dex. Or the type you were thinking of when you propositioned me at the wedding.”

She turned her head away. “I told you. I was playing you. Now get the hell out of here.”

“You’re coming with me,” he said, his tone resolute.

“No.”

“You don’t belong here, Wraith. You’re worth more than this.”

She still wouldn’t look at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then tell me. Tell me what drove you here. What drove you here before.”

She remained stubbornly silent.

“I know you can feel pleasure. It comes with the pain, yes, but why this? You give yourself no chance whatsoever. Why not try to lose yourself in the pleasure instead of the pain?”

She looked at him then, her face twisted into a kind of grief she rarely let him see. “Because pleasure is as much a fantasy as everything else in this life. It’s not real. It’s not who I am or what I’m meant to be. Not anymore.”

“So you’re saying what? The pain is your destiny? What you’re meant to experience?”

“That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“That’s bullshit.” His flat statement seemed to take her by surprise. “You’ve got a condition, Wraith. Who the hell knows why? But you didn’t ask for it, and you don’t deserve it any more than the vampires asked to have to suck blood, or I asked for my visions, or someone asks to get cancer. Yeah, you have to live with it—but you don’t just live with it, you relish it and then you even seek it out.”

He thought, just for a second, that he might have gotten through to her. Her eyes seemed less filmy, and it must have been his imagination, because he thought they sparkled blue before she blinked and they got hazy again. She scowled at him. “I told you to get out.”

They both glanced at the heap that was Ramsey as he began to shift and struggle.

Caleb sighed. “Fine. We need more privacy anyway.”

“Yes, we can discuss this later—”

“No, Wraith. That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you—” She saw the syringe in his hand and stopped cold. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s meprobamate. When we first formed the team, I did my research. It’s one of the tranquilizers that works with wraiths. No side effects whatsoever.”

She shook her head. “Don’t—”

“I’d have preferred a pill if I’d known you’d take it, but this’ll be fast, I promise.”

She began to struggle in earnest now. “No, Caleb. You son of a bitch, stop. Don’t!”

But he did. She was out within three seconds. It took far longer for him to get himself in control so he could dress her and get her out of there.

L
ucy shut her phone and threw it on her bed so it bounced, then hit the floor. Neither Caleb nor Wraith were answering their cells. Not that she could blame them.

Furious with herself, she sat on the edge of the bed and dropped her face into her hands. What an idiot she’d been. It had been a brief moment of weakness that had prompted her to talk to Mahone about needing “special training” with Caleb. She’d realized it more than twenty-four hours earlier, but hadn’t fully accepted it until right around the time Mahone had been meeting with the others in L.A. She’d hustled over there, hoping she could catch him before he mentioned it, but the instant she’d gotten to the room, she’d known. If she hadn’t heard them talking about it, she would have known by the expression on Wraith’s face.

Jealousy and longing and desperation all rolled into one, but they were capped off with something even worse—resolution. She’d known how Wraith would react to the suggestion, known she’d view it as yet another sign that she wasn’t meant to have love, especially not in the form of Caleb O’Flare. In fact, that was exactly what Lucy had counted on.

The guilt ate away at her.

If she’d truly loved Caleb and thought he could feel the same way about her, she wouldn’t have felt so bad. As part feline, she’d been taught to be sexually empowered, that she had a right to pleasure in all its forms including love. Her race’s sexuality was a burden to her, but their capacity to love was something she’d always been proud of. Still, felines always knew when someone was interested in them or not.

Lucy had known Caleb would never love her, even believing her to be a full mage. And if she was really honest with herself, she’d questioned her feelings for him, as well. She was attracted to him, for sure. Respected him. Admired him. But was that love? A first crush, more likely. And for that, she’d become just another barrier Caleb was going to have to climb over in order to get Wraith to accept her feelings for him.

Lucy had no doubt that Caleb was going to try and climb those barriers. But there’d always been doubt that he’d be successful. How was she going to rectify what she’d done? After all, it wasn’t as if love potions were real. She couldn’t make someone fall in love . . .

Standing, Lucy practically squealed as a thought occurred to her. She had the ability to ease someone’s pain, but it was usually a temporary measure and one most effective when she was in close proximity. That was how most of her magic worked. She’d never had much luck with spells; maybe it was worth another try.

But it wasn’t like she carried around a spell book with her.

Frowning, she paced and told herself to think. To remember some of the generic spells she’d learned from her teachers. There were a few verses that kept coming into her head, but she had no idea what they meant. All she knew was that they were meant to bring someone something good, because those were the only spells she’d allowed herself to be taught.

Any kind of goodness would help Wraith, right?

Sitting on her bed cross-legged, Lucy closed her eyes and placed her palms together, prayer style. She concentrated on feeling her breaths entering and leaving her body, then murmured the verses, tying in Wraith’s and Caleb’s names, along with a few improvisational lines. She repeated the words over and over until she lost track of time.

Finally, she opened her eyes.

There. That was the best she could do. Maybe she’d been a bitch for not trying it sooner, but it wasn’t as if she’d had much practice with these kinds of things. Or feelings.

Drained from the use of her powers and the events of the day, Lucy fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. She was just falling asleep when an intense cramp suddenly exploded in her abdomen and then lower. Biting her lip to keep her cries of pain in, she reached for the licorice in her drawer and chewed several down. They gave her some relief, but she knew the easing effect wouldn’t last long.

She was going into heat, and the timing couldn’t be worse.

The only way to stop the agony of the heat was to have sex, and since she had no intention of doing that, she was going to have to go into those clubs at a time when she was at her most vulnerable.

Curling into herself, she closed her eyes and waited. The fever took her first, then the shakes. When both eased, they were only to be replaced by a dull, aching throb throughout her body, one that made her feel empty, as if her body was caving in on itself without anything to support her. Caressing herself helped, but again only temporarily, and if she gave in to that urge, tried to reach orgasm herself, her pains would only get worse.

A couple of hours later, she was writhing on the bed, wishing she could somehow cast a spell to reduce her own pain. Or better yet, she thought hysterically, die. Death would be better than this. Better than being a mindless, sex-crazed creature who couldn’t control her bodily urges. Nothing could be worse than that. Nothing.

Vaguely, she heard a knocking sound and shakily sat up.

Bleary-eyed, she stared at the door.

Then someone yelled her name.

Dex.

 

As he stared at the male in front of him, Isaac began to wonder if perhaps the vampire’s natural tendency toward duty and honesty had started to screw with his priorities. The vamp had sworn that when Dante Prime had been taken into custody, nothing had changed. That he was determined to aid the Quorum in achieving separatism between humans and Otherborn. Now, his determination seemed to be wavering.

Or perhaps it was simply that the vamp had grown to admire his new sister-in-law and objected to hurting her specifically, no matter how worthy the cause.

“If I made a mistake in asking for your help, please forgive me. I indicated the Quorum’s sole focus would be on the felines for a while, but this matter was only recently brought to my attention. I can certainly go elsewhere if—”

“No,” Zeph Prime said before turning around. He was bulky with muscles, healthier than he’d been in a long time, almost as large as his half brother, the dharmire Knox Devereaux. When Zeph had worked with the Quorum to get the vamp antidote away from the Bureau, he’d ensured his anonymity by continuing to remain a victim of the vamp vaccine. Unlike his cousins, Lesander and Niles, he’d only occasionally drunk pure blood and only then when he felt his lack of strength was jeopardizing his cause. Accordingly, he’d always been gaunt and pale when Isaac had seen him. Now . . .

Zeph wasn’t getting pure blood from the Quorum’s supply. How he was getting the blood and from whom, Isaac didn’t know, and Zeph would never tell him, but obviously it had to do with the Para-Ops team’s return from Korea and the acquisition of the vamp antidote. Devereaux’s scientists were either administering it to humans in order to feed vamps or had found a way to make a potent blood cocktail outside the human body. In any case, it wasn’t just Zeph’s strength, but the clarity and purpose in his gaze that made Isaac nervous.

Once again, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake by seeking the vamp out, but how else was he going to get to the human female? He’d had a contact inside the Dome during the Devereaux wedding, but now that the guests had left and the Dome was once more secure, he needed someone on the inside, someone who was free to come and go as he pleased. He breathed a sigh of relief when Zeph grinned and slapped him on the back good-naturedly.

“I’m glad you came to me, Isaac. But I wish you’d done it sooner. Why didn’t the Quorum act to stop the ceremony before the marriage was official? And they must have considered the fact that Felicia’s a federal agent. One whose death won’t be taken lightly. Do they really want that kind of heat jeopardizing all they’re trying to accomplish?”

Isaac hesitated. Zeph Prime trusted Isaac because of his connection to the Quorum. If he knew Isaac was working outside the Quorum’s authority, he wouldn’t risk his neck or his objectives. Instead, he’d turn Isaac over to the Quorum on a silver platter, but probably not before he feasted on him first. Not for the first time, Isaac wondered whether staying in Athena’s good graces was worth jeopardizing his position with the Quorum. At this point, however, he was well-caught in Athena’s web. All he could do was forge ahead.

“The Quorum believes the risks are worth it. With Knox’s father having successfully been turned by your mother, it’s only a matter of time until Knox tries to turn his wife, as well. Do you agree?”

Zeph nodded. “Yes.”

“It’s an abomination. And besides, your brother would be risking his life. For a human. We thought for certain that would be something you’d want to avoid, but perhaps—”

“No,” Zeph muttered. “You’re right. Knox loves Felicia, and no matter what she says, he won’t leave her to her human mortality for very long.” He eyed Isaac. “But as for who would be blamed for the murder . . .”

“As I said, there are two choices. We’ll leave the decision to you. The Quorum asks that the felines be blamed because that, of course, serves its objective of creating discord between the humans and the felines.”

“It will also cause discord between vamps and felines, but I suppose that’s a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things,” Zeph said.

Isaac nodded and mentally laughed. He should have had more faith in Zeph Prime. Like father, like son, didn’t they say? “Your other option is to blame another vampire. One who viewed the marriage as an insult to vampiric purity. Then the discord would be between human and vampire—”