Chosen by Fate (6 page)

Plus, although Knox had caught one of the vampires responsible for the disappearance of the antidote as well as Mahone’s capture, they hadn’t been able to find the individuals who’d been pulling the strings. They knew whoever it was had to be wellorganized and heavily funded, but at this point that was all they knew.

Still, Caleb tried to push aside his thoughts and focus solely on the beauty of his surroundings and on the pleasure of dancing with the female in his arms.

If it weren’t for their complicated past, Princess Natia would be exactly the kind of female Caleb needed after the hellish last few weeks. Generous. Feminine. And she was sexy as hell, all curves and fragrant, soft skin, with long hair ribboned with shades of gold, toffee, and espresso.

Right now, those curves and soft skin were pressed against him, making his blood heat and his mind race with memories of what their bodies had once done to each other. But he’d already been having doubts about his and Natia’s compatibility before Elijah had died, and Caleb’s role in Elijah’s death had severed whatever bond they’d had left. Even despite her recent words of faith in him—specifically, her belief that he hadn’t had anything to do with her brother’s death—and despite the affection he still held for her, he knew getting involved again wasn’t what he wanted.

Caleb was a different man now. Yes, he’d managed to heal a great deal since joining the Para-Ops team. In playing the easygoing charmer, he didn’t have to pretend quite as often. That part of Caleb’s personality was returning more and more on its own, but his past was still there. The betrayal. The blood. With Mahone’s promise to uncover the truth about Elijah’s death, Caleb found his pain lessening with every day that passed. Instinctively, he knew Natia wasn’t supposed to be part of his healing. It was better to leave her in the past, where she belonged. But he didn’t want to hurt her, either, and her own clan had been experiencing difficulties . . .

He frowned when the slow music changed to something with a rocking beat and he heard a female whoop.

Wraith.

His gaze instantly found her on the other side of the dance floor, surrounded by a veritable smorgasbord of Otherborn representatives: vamps, mages, felines, and weres. Given the strong smell of roses Caleb had detected earlier, Knox had even invited a shape-shifter or two. Even so, despite the variances each race brought to the table, Wraith stuck out like a neon light in a vast wasteland of darkness.

His teammate was dressed as she always was—skin-tight black leather, four-inch blue stilettos, shockingly white, spiky pixie hair that was in extreme contrast to her bluish skin—yet she looked nothing like the female he was used to seeing. He’d only seen a genuine smile on her face one other time, and that had been in response to music, as well.

This time, her smile seemed to be equally prompted by the stranger—a tall, broader-than-average vamp—she was dancing with. Although he couldn’t see them, Caleb imagined that her eerily hazed-over eyes, covered as usual by her big Ray-Ban sunglasses, were focused on the vamp’s handsome face.

Mixed feelings swept through Caleb. Anger. Confusion. Resignation. At one time, he’d wanted to be someone who could make her smile, but she’d never let him close enough to try.

If his own pain was a raging river slowly growing calmer, Wraith’s was a lit fuse ready to blow, taking everyone around her with it.

She didn’t trust or rely on anyone easily. The fact that he’d betrayed her for Mahone had only been the nail in the coffin as far as she was concerned. But that hadn’t stopped her from endangering her own life to save the two of them. That was something he’d never forget, even though she clearly wanted him to.

“Caleb, I was wondering . . .”

He returned his attention to Natia, surprised by his annoyance. He’d wanted to watch Wraith dance a little longer. Make sure she and the male didn’t get any closer, or else—

Or else what? He mentally snorted. Would he walk over like a jealous lover and challenge the vamp to a duel? It was a ridiculous thought. Nonetheless, he looked over at Wraith again, only vaguely listening to what Natia was saying.

“. . . you can come to dinner and meet with Mother. Try one more time to explain. What do you think?”

His jaw tightened when Wraith’s dance partner placed a hand on her waist, caressing her over her leather jacket. Swallowing the growl of displeasure rising in his throat, Caleb shook his head and turned back to Natia. “I’m sorry, sweet. What were you asking?”

She frowned. “I was saying, why don’t you come up to my room for a drink? We can spend the night together. Then tomorrow we can fly to Los Angeles and you can have dinner with Mother.”

His brows rose, but not because of her suggestion that they spend the night together. He’d known that’s where Natia was headed. But as for dinner with “Mother” . . . He’d rather be back in that warehouse taking his chances with the Hyperion gas. “Your mother hates me, Natia. As do most of your clan. Given what’s happened recently to your cousins, they’ll be even more suspicious of outsiders, let alone someone accused of killing Elijah.”

Natia looked away at the mention of her brother’s name, but then met Caleb’s gaze once more. “The drug rapes occurred while you were in Korea, Caleb. Even Mother wouldn’t accuse you of having something to do with that. And as for Elijah . . .” She bit her lip and trailed a hand down his arm. “I should have stood by you. Announced my faith in you. But I was so upset. I didn’t know who to trust or . . .” Tears filled her eyes. Seeing her genuine regret, Caleb sighed.

He hugged her close, and she wrapped her arms around him. Her sweet, familiar scent filled his lungs, making him reconsider. Perhaps he should take her up on her invitation. Lose himself in her sweet body and then try, one more time, to talk to her mother . . .

But it suddenly occurred to him that sweetness didn’t hold the appeal for him that it once might have. He wanted more. He wanted complexity. Shadows. A bitterness to make the pleasure of being in a woman’s arms and inside her body all the more intense. And he didn’t want to convince someone to have faith in him. He wanted more than that.

As he slowly pulled away from Natia’s embrace, his gaze once again swept to Wraith.

Dumb shit, he berated himself. She’s dead. She’s beyond bitter. And most of all, she’s not interested.

“Caleb? Are you even listening to me? What’s gotten into you?”

He forced himself to turn back to Natia. She was pissed, her gaze moving from Caleb to Wraith with clear jealousy. Not good. A feline who thought her territory was being poached on was volatile and unpredictable. And even though he was no longer her territory, that wouldn’t stop Natia from confronting Wraith. Caleb actually shuddered as he imagined what the two females could do to one another. The scene wouldn’t be something Knox or Felicia would appreciate, that was for sure. Taking Natia’s hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. “You’re a guest of the Devereaux clan, aren’t you? Because a drink is sounding really nice.”

It was both truth and lie. A drink did sound nice, but he hadn’t fallen off the wagon since joining the team. Granted, he was on vacation now, but he knew how easily one drink could turn into two, and that into a desperate need for more. Still, the longer he watched Wraith and that vamp, the more convinced he became that a drink would do far more good than not. That some
needs
were far more dangerous than others.

Natia beamed, all thoughts of Wraith apparently forgotten. “Yes. I’ll . . . I’ll be waiting for you. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“Sure.”

As she walked away, her security team moved like stealthy specters, shadowing her even as they blended in with the crowd. Caleb told himself to go with her. At the very least, to wait out the ten minutes on the patio, where he could get some fresh air. She might be expecting more than he was willing to give her, but at least she would be out of Wraith’s vicinity. They could talk, and he’d figure out what to do then. Cursing beneath his breath, he strode toward the doors leading to the gardens outside.

He paused. He looked back. He gritted his teeth.

The vamp had his hands all over Wraith. On her bare skin now—caressing the vulnerable flesh at her throat.

Like the rest of her kind, Wraith was thought to have been human at one time until she appeared on earth, the living dead with no pulse, and no memory of who or what she was. There were many mysteries surrounding her kind, but one thing was universally known—touching their bare skin caused them pain.

He knew the vampire’s prolonged touch had to be hurting Wraith like hell, but she took it, peering up at the vamp flirtatiously, a raw, sexual smile on her lips. The vamp’s hand moved, and Caleb saw her cringe—an imperceptible flinch that highlighted the lines of distress near her eyes. Instantly, he thought of the scars on her throat and how they’d gotten there.

He took a swift look around the room, instinctively searching for his team to help out Wraith. The were, Dex Hunt, hadn’t bothered showing up, and he didn’t know where Lucy was. Mahone had left. Knox and Felicia hadn’t arrived after the ceremony, but he knew Knox didn’t give a damn how rude that might seem. The dharmire had finally won the body, heart, and soul of his human female and would likely have to be dragged away before he left her bed. Although Knox’s parents, Bianca and Jacques Devereaux, were here, they were dancing under the watchful eyes of their guards, with no reason to suspect a wedding guest was being hurt by one of their clan.

Without hesitating, Caleb moved across the room.

 

“You know I can make it worth your time, Wraith. I’ve done it before.”

Wraith shot Colt a practiced smile. “By ‘it,’ you mean making me come?”

Eyes narrowing, the vamp she hadn’t seen for two years returned her smile with one of his own. “Making a wraith, and particularly you, come isn’t an easy feat, so I wouldn’t speak so dismissively if I were you.” Once more, he rubbed the side of her neck with his thumb, but she barely noticed the sting of pain, let alone felt any pleasure.

It was as if she were completely dead now, not even able to recall the memory of physical pleasure Colt had once given her. She leaned away from his touch.

“We did it a few times. It means nothing. Leave it in the past, Colt, where it belongs. Things are different now.” She was clean, for one. Plus, she’d long grown accustomed to doing without a male’s touch.

Instinctively, her gaze fluttered to Caleb, who was grinning and flirting with an exotic and buxom feline on the dance floor. A feline
princess
, she’d been told, named Natia. Due to the film over her eyes, she couldn’t tell what color the female’s hair was—it looked like several shades of gray, just like everything else in her life.

“Yes, I can see they are,” Colt murmured, then tilted his head to Caleb and the feline. “She’s gorgeous, but no match for you, doll.”

At Colt’s knowing tone, Wraith snapped her gaze back to his. She knew that if it were possible for her to flush, she’d be doing it right now. As it was, she struggled to keep her expression free of guilt. “Look, I don’t know why you’re here or how you knew where to find me, but if Knox finds out, he’ll—”

Colt chuckled. “He’ll what? He’s heir apparent to the royal vamp throne. It’s his wedding, and he invited the whole clan, Wraith. I’m part of the clan. You being here is raising more questions than my presence. Most of these folks probably have never even seen a wraith.”

She ground her teeth at his condescending tone. “Does he know what you do?”

“Just what do I do?”

She looked at him chidingly. “You might be part of Knox’s clan, but that’s where your similarity ends. Knox is loyal to his family. To his people. To his wife. Your only loyalty is to the highest bidder for whatever you’re peddling nowadays.”

He hummed and smoothed his hand down her hair, his eyes challenging her to retaliate. She wanted to, but she was wise enough to know the power he held over her. The power to expose her for the weak coward she truly was. “What you say is the absolute truth, Wraith. And I’ve always been very loyal to you, haven’t I?” Dropping his hand to the small of her back and pulling her close enough that she could feel his arousal against her stomach, he said, “I got you away from Ramsey, didn’t I? Showed you how pleasure was so much better than pain. But I understand . . . You’ve been without for a long time. Now that I’m back, there’s no need for that to continue.” He bent over her so that his lips hovered over her earlobe. He raked his fangs against her. “Come on, baby. I’ve got what you need. As soon as you taste it again, you’ll remember why it’s so good. Why we were so good together and can be again.”

Closing her eyes, Wraith swallowed hard. His voice was cajoling, his tone a dark, sinful urge. She felt herself lean against him as memories washed over her. Their shared past was one filled with darkness and pain, just as every part of her life was, but it was also the only time in the past ten years that she’d ever experienced pure physical pleasure. The drugs Colt had access to were the only things that had allowed her to feel pure pleasure at being touched. But they had also left her stoned. Disoriented. In an altered state for days.

That was what a wraith’s options were for avoiding pain. Complete isolation or complete addiction.

Colt was right. He had saved her to some degree. He’d helped her see that what she’d had with Ramsey Monroe wasn’t real and wasn’t all there was to life. But what he’d introduced her to had been just as limiting. Just as destructive. Still, despite her addiction to Colt and the drugs, she’d finally managed to extract herself from their grip. It had taken time, and then Mahone had found her. Given her the opportunity to once again do something different. This time, something good.

She wanted to keep doing good with the little time she had left. She also wanted to get the information she needed to leave this life with some semblance of peace.