Chosen by Fate (38 page)

“Dex is on his way,” Lucy said, feeling it was only fair to warn her.

“Thank you,” Jesmina said. “I’d stay and help you explain, but I’m afraid I’m a little tired. If you don’t need me, I’ll be going.”

Lucy nodded. “Thanks again for your help.”

“Sure.” She took several steps away from her, then stopped. “Lucy,” she called over her shoulder. “Always remember that who we are might not be who we want to be, but in the end, we’d better be willing to fight for what we have. Tell that to the wraith, would you? And tell Dex good-bye for me.”

W
hat idiots we were, Elijah. Or did you know? Did you know when you died that someone you trusted with all your heart and soul had been your true executioner?

Caleb tried to harness his thoughts into something useful. Something besides the mass of shock and self-castigation that warred with regret and grief. It was as if his friend had
just
died—that’s how intense the sting of loss and betrayal felt. He wanted to get plastered. To drown himself in a bottle of whiskey until he floated to another world where such horrors never occurred. He wanted to reject the information he’d received, reject it all, but he couldn’t.

The papers Lucy had retrieved from Maddox’s safe told Caleb in black-and-white that he’d been a blind fool. Wraith had once accused him of not wanting to shove his dick in something dead, but truth was he’d done that a long time ago, long before he’d ever met her.

Because Princess Natia, Caleb’s former lover, had been dead inside when he’d made love to her, her outward beauty disguising her blackened, shriveled heart, fooling not only Caleb but many others.

Elijah.

Her mother and the rest of the royal family.

And Alton Maddox.

Yes, Maddox. Because lo and behold, Maddox had worked for the U.S. government as a military doctor before he’d started his own practice, and somehow Natia had convinced the doctor to pay a visit to a certain prisoner of war just before he’d died. Maddox had killed Natia’s brother, and Caleb knew he wouldn’t have done it unless Natia had given him a very good reason. But what had it been? That was a detail Maddox hadn’t included in the records spread out in front of Caleb.

Wearily, Caleb rubbed his hands over his face. He jerked when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Dex.

“You’re not looking so hot, Romeo.”

Caleb looked away to stare once more at the mess of papers before him. “You wouldn’t either if you’d just discovered you’d dated a woman evil enough to mastermind her own brother’s murder. Not to mention let you carry the burden of guilt for his death for years.”

“From murdering bitch to dead bitch. Way to pick ’em, O’Flare.”

Fury incinerated the misery he’d been feeling. Springing out of his chair, Caleb was on the were in an instant, grabbing him by his shirt and shoving him up against a wall. “Don’t fucking talk about Wraith that way. She’s not a bitch and she’s not dead. Not really. Not—not—”

As his voice cracked, Caleb released Hunt and turned away, breathing in hard and blinking his eyes in an attempt to clear them of the sting of moisture that had collected.

“Not yet,” Hunt finished quietly.

Caleb turned and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t. Go. There. Wraith isn’t going to die. I won’t allow it.”

Hunt’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know you won’t, man. I was just shaking you out of the little pity fest you were mired in. So Natia killed her brother.
You
didn’t. You’re here. You can avenge him. You can save someone else.”

“Yeah, it’s so easy to say. Avenge him when I have no idea why Natia killed. Save Wraith when I don’t know how. When I don’t know when—” With a bellow edged with fury and helplessness, he swept everything off the table he’d vacated: Maddox’s files, the research he’d printed out on wraiths, the lamp that shattered into several large, jagged shards.

“Feel better now?” Hunt drawled.

Caleb glanced up and, to his surprise, managed to laugh. “Actually, I do.”

“Good. So what now? You going to pay your ex a little visit?”

He pictured Natia. How she’d looked and felt when he’d danced with her at Knox’s wedding. How she’d sounded and smelled when she’d greeted him and kissed him in the same bar where he’d found Wraith, bloodied and dying on the bathroom floor. The need to avenge his friend—to avenge himself—burned bright for a heady second, then faded. He shook his head, noting Hunt’s look of surprise.

“Maybe there’s something good that can come from all this. Something I’m meant to teach you.”

Hunt glared at him. “Enlighten me.”

“There are more important things than revenge, Hunt. I’m not going to waste any more time on the past than I already have. No matter what Natia has done, she introduced me to Elijah. A man who was my true friend. He’d understand what I need to do. He’d want me to do it.”

“And what’s that?”

“Choose. Choose hope over despair. Choose the future over the past. Choose love over revenge. And that’s what I’m gonna do. I choose Wraith. The question is, what will you choose?”

 

Back at Wraith’s hotel room, Wraith stared at Lucy as the mage delivered the vampire’s message. “I didn’t want to tell you earlier. Not with Dex and Caleb around. Even if Dex had given me a chance to talk, which of course you know he didn’t.”

“He was worried,” Wraith said. “We all were.”

“I know. And that’s why I let him rant at me. But I had my reasons for meeting the vamp alone.”

“I know you did, Lucy. And so does he. We were worried about that, too. If you’d told us you’re part feline . . . If you’d told us about the heat . . .”

“What? You could have helped?” Lucy shook her head. “I see how you stay away from felines, Wraith. Obviously there’s something in your past that makes you suspicious of them, and I didn’t want to be stuck with that particular label. Besides, I didn’t tell you about the heat for the same reason you didn’t tell us about your momentous birthday—it wouldn’t have changed anything, and we didn’t want to be the objects of anyone’s pity.”

“You’re totally right. But now that I know, I don’t pity you, Lucy. Because the heat might be a pain right now, but when you find the man you’re meant to be with, who knows? At least you’ll get the chance to find out.”

They stared at each other, and Wraith suddenly felt foolish. Had she really talked of Lucy meeting a man with wistfulness lacing her words?

“Wraith, the vamp’s message . . .”

“Thanks for delivering it,” Wraith said with a brittle smile. “I’ll be sure to keep her wisdom in mind, right along with all the other new age stuff that shape-shifter told me. Right now, however, I need to pack.” She started to walk into the bedroom but stopped before she reached the doorway. Over her shoulder, she said, “That reminds me, the shifter had a message for you, as well. He said he can help you, if you want. If you’re still considering . . .”

Lucy hesitated, then shook her head. “No. Not right now, anyway. But Wraith . . . we never had a chance to . . . I mean, can you forgive me for what I wanted . . . with Caleb?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lucy. You wanted him, and let’s face it—you’re a way better choice for him than I’ll ever be.”

“But he wants you, Wraith, not me. And I’ve known that all along.”

It shouldn’t have comforted her so much, but it did. Caleb had wanted
her
. He might not want her anymore, but that didn’t change the fact that he once had. “Yeah, well, what’s that Stones song about not getting what you want? If you try sometimes . . .” She shrugged, then laughed. “Well, I tried and I failed. But Caleb can still get what he wants.” Especially now, she thought. Because although she still didn’t know why, the death mark he’d worn the entire time they’d been in Los Angeles had finally disappeared. Right about the time they’d picked up Lucy outside Alton Maddox’s office. So while she was still dying, Caleb was safe. In the end, that’s what truly mattered. “He’ll get what he wants when I’m gone,” she said firmly.

“I don’t believe that,” Lucy whispered. “And neither does Caleb.”

“Sometimes Caleb doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

“But you know what is?”

Wraith smiled. “Yeah. The best thing for everybody is to stay as far away from me as possible. Even when I’m being impersonated, I’m a danger to you, Lucy.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the shape-shifter trying to take me, Wraith!”

“Didn’t you know, Lucy?” They both gasped when they heard Caleb’s voice. “Wraith blames herself for everything. Why not that, too?”

Wraith didn’t turn around, but Caleb just moved until he stood in front of her. “It’s not like she’ll let Dex or me claim our lion’s share of the guilt, considering we were the ones supposed to be keeping an eye on you. Wraith’s a plain old misery hog, aren’t you, Wraith?”

She refused to answer.

“Look at me,” he said.

She didn’t want to, but now that he’d said the words, she couldn’t resist. It was as if he’d borrowed some of Knox’s persuasion powers. She met his gaze and gasped. Rather than the anger or disdain she’d expected, his expression was one of sheer weariness.

“You’re not the only person who brings trouble to those around you, Wraith. I reviewed the files that Lucy retrieved from Maddox’s office. He was sterilizing felines, some by their choice and some by his choice alone. But all the procedures had one thing in common—they were funded by the same person. The same person who paid Maddox to kill Prince Elijah. The same person who hired Doug and Emmett to come after you. Natia. I trusted her, Wraith. Danced with her at Knox’s wedding, and she—”

Hesitantly, Wraith shook her head, not in denial, but to stop his words. His voice emanated pain. “Stop. Don’t do this to yourself, Caleb. Don’t take on more guilt. You’ve had enough, and I don’t want you to carry any more.”

“I know. The question is, why?”

“Because it’s hurting you,” she whispered. Vaguely, she was aware that Lucy had left the hotel room, shutting the door behind her so it was just her and Caleb. Together. Alone.

“Sometimes we need to live with the pain. Isn’t that what you’ve tried to tell me all along, Wraith? That to be truly free, to get where we need to be, we have to be willing to feel everything, the good and the bad?”

“That’s true for me. Not for you. I don’t want you to have to live with that kind of pain.”

“And yet I’m going to, whether you want it for me or not. And you just denying it or pushing me away makes me hurt more. Especially when I know why you’re doing it. Especially since I did the same stupid thing to you.” He lifted his hand and let it hover near her temple, but he didn’t touch her. “Tell me, Wraith. Why would you spare me that pain? Because you care about me?”

“Caleb, stop. You know what’s going to happen to me. I’m going to—”

“Do you care about me, Wraith?” he demanded, his eyes blazing, refusing to let her look away.

“Yes,” she gritted out.

“Do you love me?”

She licked her lips and closed her eyes, tried to say no, but ended up choking out, “Yes.”

“That’s why I wanted—will always want—to spare you the pain, too. But we can’t shield each other from everything, not even that. Because without pain, we have no life.”

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes again. He was staring at her solemnly. “You can’t love me, Caleb.”

Shaking his head, he smiled. “Too late,” he whispered, just as he wove his fingers through her hair, tilted her head back, and kissed her.

Whatever had numbed her pain the previous times they’d had sex was gone. She felt pain every time his lips touched hers or his bare skin brushed against hers. But she didn’t flinch away from him, and she didn’t cry out. Instead, she cherished it as much as she did the pleasure he gave her because in her mind they were both connected. Intertwined so that it was impossible to tell one from the other. The perfect combination of both. A balance. Symmetry in its greatest form. Caleb.

At one point, she reared back, relief bearing down on her. He cradled her face in his hand. “What is it?”

She shook her head, causing tears to fall from her eyes. The death mark. It was gone, and somehow she knew whatever had caused that particular mark to form was no longer a threat to him. She’d tell him. Explain later. But right now . . . “I’m happy,” she said, pulling his mouth down to hers again. “So happy.”

Later, when they lay in bed together, he said, “It was Natia. All this time.”

“It appears so,” Wraith said, smoothing a hand over his chest. What she didn’t say was that Natia had probably been the threat that had generated the death mark. It made the most sense. It had appeared after Caleb had spurned her in favor of Wraith. Had disappeared when Caleb had held her and promised to help her. Reappeared again after Caleb had come after her. And it had stayed until he’d discovered Natia’s treachery.

Wraith would make sure the feline never posed a threat to Caleb again, whatever that took. It didn’t matter to her that Natia had acted out of some twisted kind of love or out of desperation. By threatening Caleb, she’d forever made an enemy out of Wraith and disintegrated any kind of pity Wraith might otherwise have felt for her.

Unaware of her protective thoughts, Caleb continued speaking. “The only thing I can’t understand is Elijah. What possible reason could Natia have for wanting her brother dead? They were close. Closer than any of the other royal siblings.”

“Maybe too close. Maybe Natia didn’t want the closeness anymore.”

When Caleb stiffened, Wraith rested her cheek against his heart and peered up at him. “After I escaped the mage, I did a lot of intel on the felines. I wanted revenge, but ultimately, I knew I couldn’t blame the whole race for one feline’s actions. But during my surveillance, I saw things . . .”

Caleb sat up. “What things?”

She lifted her head, but hesitated.