Dark Veil (3 page)

Others
did leave Society, it was true. They could buy their way out—but it was hard. They had nothing and no rights. Most of them ended up dead anyway, and there was no remorse, no funeral. Just a body on a slab that got burnt to save space. Gemma knew that Cade’s father would seek an execution warrant the moment he found out—not about the baby, but that they had left together.

“We can make it work.”

“We’ll have price tags on our heads. I can't risk your life for anything. Don’t you realise that?”

“Not even for our child? You put your needs and wants before the life of our baby?” He clenched his jaw and let go of her hands. “Perhaps you should get rid of it then. I never thought that you would be so selfish.”

He was angry. She tried to tell herself that, but his words ripped through her and tore her apart.

Eyes hard, he stared right at her. “If you abort our baby, then you won’t have me in your life.”

Gemma held onto her composure as she stared at him. It was the first time she had ever seen anything close to hostility towards her in Cade’s eyes. Knowing she was about to fall to pieces in front of him, she turned abruptly and walked out of his office, leaving him standing there. It wasn’t until she had reached the bottom of his stairs that she began to crumble. She stumbled through the hall to the front door of the house and fumbled with the chain. She got the door open and cool air hit her face, making her gasp through her tears.

“Gemma …” Cade’s tortured voice carried through the air. She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing at the foot of the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed and then ran out of the house and onto the lane. She ran in a desperate attempt to get away. Away from Cade and away from everything. The cold air cooled her hot tears as they rolled down her face.

“Gemma,” Cade called. He was right behind her. She felt his hand grab her arm and she came to a stop, half sobbing, half panting from the run. She braced herself for more harsh words, more anger from him, but none came now. Instead, Cade wrapped strong arms around her, bands of steel holding her tight. In that moment, she felt safe. She clung to him as if he were her lifeline.

“Please, Gemma,” he whispered against her hair. “Please think about this.”

She didn’t want to let him go. Not now. Not ever. He was the thing that kept her alive. He was what made sense in her world. She was never safer than when in his arms. He was her world.

“Please don’t,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on hers again, his kiss desperate and all-consuming. When he released her, they were both breathing hard. “We can renounce everything. We can buy our way out and do it properly.”

“We leave our families if we do that. You leave Phoenix.”

“He can come, too. I don’t care about the rest. Please don’t take our child away.”

She shook her head and clutched at his shirt. “They won’t let us leave. You know that. They’ll kill Phoenix for being with us.”

Perhaps Cade did know. Perhaps she had finally got through to him. He didn’t say anymore—just held her. He held onto her tightly, and although he would probably never admit it, she knew that he was crying, too.

Her heart broke.

Chapter Three

Stephen stretched himself out on one of the softer chairs that were positioned in front of the window. Not that it was any more comfortable than the hard modern chairs that Phoenix was sitting on—it just gave the illusion it was. His tiger would much rather lie on the floor instead of sitting on the rickety chair that threatened to give way under his weight at any moment. The leather on it was so torn that he could feel edges of it sticking into his jeans and irritating the shit out of him. He grumbled and shifted position … again. Two more minutes and he was going to pick the damn chair up and launch it into the skip outside.

He stared aimlessly out of the window—there wasn’t much to see. Public library for
Others
—the
Humans
had outdone themselves with this one. Why give them windows with views, right? The window which Stephen was staring out of held the picturesque scene of a large skip and card compactor. Two men were shoving broken down cardboard boxes into the shoot at the side. One of them had climbed up and was jamming his foot in the shoot to get the boxes in. Stephen wondered what would happen if the man slipped and fell into the shoot. Would the blades in there stop? Would his friend help and pull him out before his legs became some macabre prop right out of a horror movie? It would certainly make his day more interesting if something more exciting happened out there. Sitting in the library waiting for Gemma was not exactly a thrilling way to pass his time.

Stephen let out an exasperated sigh, stretched his legs out and let his head fall back. Every minute felt like an hour and time seemed to drag on. He was ready to just close his eyes and sleep. He stretched his arms over his head, his tall frame looking even longer with the movement. He caught sight of a blonde in the corner as he pulled himself upright once more. She had been staring at him and as their eyes met, she quickly looked away. Stephen tried to hide his smirk. Typical. He could write a book on how this game went. These women were all the same—so predictable. It was like they got given this script to follow. Phase one—stare at a man until she caught his eye. Check. Blondie had done that. Next was phase two. Look away for a second and pretend to do whatever it was that she had been doing before she noticed him. Check.

Phase three was a little different. It required strategic manoeuvring and had to be just right, otherwise the woman would end up looking more like an idiot. But this was their chance—like walking on stage for their one big shot. First, she would glance over her shoulder to make sure that he was still looking. Then came the fixing of the hair and clothes. Everything had to be just so. The next step would be to put something on display. Whatever the asset, every woman had one part they liked about themselves. Tits or ass—which one was she?

Blondie bent down to one of the lower shelves. Stephen’s lips turned up at the corners. Ass. He had a perfect view of it. Even he had to admit, it wasn’t a bad one. He wasn’t really interested, but he supposed that this was better than staring at the men outside with the trash. They obviously weren’t going to climb inside and cause any major damage to themselves just to amuse him.

The blonde glanced over to see if he had noticed. He stared straight at her, bold and brazen. She flushed at his intent look and quickly averted her eyes again. He kept them on her as she moved, because this was his phase and he knew how to play the game, too. All too well. She walked around one of the shelves and then to the seating area where they served coffee. She sat down next to another woman—sister maybe—they looked similar. Maybe it could get interesting after all. Both of them glanced his way and he winked at them, causing them to blush and giggle.

Phoenix was sitting at one of the computers working away. He had chosen a seat that was opposite Stephen, which meant that Stephen couldn’t see what he was doing. Instead, he sat staring at the back of the large monitor. Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn’t. But still, it roused Stephen’s interest—especially since Phoenix seemed to glance over at him one too many times.

The main desk behind Phoenix was manned by an elderly
Other
. Her hands were twisted with age, her hair grey.  She bent over her archives awkwardly as she tried to work, but the fact that she was there told Stephen that Phoenix wasn’t just being a typical sixteen-year-old—no smut was being viewed.

Bored, Stephen rose slowly from his seat and wandered over to Phoenix. He didn’t miss the lascivious looks the two women threw him as he walked over to the other side of the desk. Phoenix’s hand shot out to the mouse and clicked.

Bingo.

The boy was definitely doing something he shouldn’t.

“What are you up to?” he asked him coolly as he came to stand behind him. He had a page about horticulture up on the screen. “Plants?”

Phoenix kept a firm grip on the mouse. “Cade said that it was okay if I grew some things in the garden. Your mum said that she would help me.”

Stephen leaned in and tapped his finger against the screen where another browser had been minimised. “What is that one?”

“Just more plants and things,” he muttered and quickly lifted a finger to click the mouse. But Stephen was faster. He closed his hand down over Phoenix’s before he could make the page vanish.

That was a mistake, though. The muscles in his neck tensed and the walls in his mind came crashing down. The wind was knocked out of him and he struggled to breathe.

“Fuck.” He gripped the back of Phoenix’s chair to keep himself steady as his mind was suddenly blasted by an influx of sensory details. The world swayed around him and pain shot through his chest. Voices echoed in the distance but he couldn’t grab onto any of them. They were all loud—so fucking loud. He staggered back, almost taking Phoenix with him. He let go of the chair and clutched his head, swearing viciously.

“Stephen?”

Stephen shook his head to clear it, holding up a hand to keep Phoenix back. Three times this had happened this week. Three damn times, and he had no idea what it was. The shit in his head was getting worse, that was for sure, but why? He didn’t have a clue. Didn’t even know what had set it all off to begin with. But he needed it to stop. He closed his eyes and breathed into his hands for a moment.

“What were you really looking at?” he eventually rasped.

Phoenix motioned to the screen. “I told you …”

Stephen blinked hard. It was like trying to lift the morning fog off the hills by will alone. He had to fight his way through it and the only way to do it was to ground himself in reality. “Don’t give me that plant shit. I can come over there and clock the history. What were you looking at?”

Phoenix remained silent and stared up at Stephen with that expression only teenagers could perfect—the one that said they knew the answer but weren’t about to say it.

“I can stand here all day long.”

Phoenix shuffled in his seat then said meekly, “I was looking up my dad.” The depth of sadness in his voice made Stephen sorry that he had asked.

“Your dad?”

Phoenix swivelled his seat back so that he was facing the monitor again, his head down. “It’s been two years. I thought maybe he’d been looking for me or something.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

If he could have taken the boy’s pain away, he would have. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have the man who raised you just suddenly toss you out on the street. Fucking
Humans
, that’s what it was. Their brainwashing shit made it so they viewed
Others
like something born of evil, when really it was their hatred that came from the darkness. He pulled a chair up from another work station and sat down. “Maybe he just hasn’t stuck an advert out.”

Phoenix maximised the browser and then closed it properly and logged off the machine. Stephen kept his distance, not wanting to set off another episode. If this carried on, he was going to have to start wearing gloves before touching anyone, and that would really screw him up.

“He might be looking for you. You don’t know that he isn’t.”

“He might not.”

“No. He might not,” he agreed. “
Humans
are funny about
Others
. It isn’t his fault. He’s probably been taught how bad we are.”

“But doesn’t he miss me?”

Stephen wanted so badly to say yes and get rid of the sadness that the boy’s eyes held. He stared at him hopelessly, waiting for the right answer. Did his dad miss him? Probably not.
Humans
were assholes. They’d kill their own just because they crossed to
Other
. Because in their world, the
Human
that had once been his kin was now nothing more than an abomination. Chances were that Phoenix’s father hadn't looked for him at all. If anything, he had probably barricaded the fucking doors to keep him from coming back. “Have you talked to Cade about this?”

Phoenix glanced away, embarrassed. “He won’t understand.”

“He might.”

“He will think that I want to leave.”

“Do you?”

The look in Phoenix’s eyes was enough to tell him he didn’t. “No, but …”

Stephen moved closer but avoided touching him at all. He moved close enough that Phoenix might at least feel some connection there. “But?”

“I just want to see my dad. That’s all.”

Stephen could understand that. At least he thought he could. What would it be like to leave your family behind at that age? Shit. Stephen was twenty-six and he hadn't even managed to leave the family home yet, and maybe he never would. As the beta, he needed to be close to his alpha. It was his duty.

“There are two women staring at you,” Phoenix whispered suddenly, making Stephen blink at the abrupt change of topic. He hesitated, feeling they had left the matter hanging. Maybe it was best he didn’t push Phoenix right now, however. 

He winked at him and smiled. “Yep.”

Phoenix chewed on his bottom lip. He did it all the time, Stephen realised. “How do you do it?”

Stephen’s brow puckered. “What?”

“Get the girls all staring at you like that?”

Stephen grinned then. Now this was something he could help with. “Pretend like you don’t care.”

Phoenix frowned, and Stephen laughed and leaned back in his seat. He surveyed the library—it was busy enough and crappy enough—another decrepit place for
Others
, but it was enough that
Others
used it often. He found what he wanted. “See that girl there? The one with the blue sweater?” He nodded towards the girl in question.

Phoenix followed Stephen’s gaze. “The one with her mother?”

“Yep, that one.”

“She is with her
mother
.” The words were uttered as if they were sanctified. Stephen chuckled. He was so young—but he would learn.

“Yes, she is. Makes it all the more fun. When I was your age, they were the best kind. Cade and I …” Stephen stopped short, realising who he was talking to. This was Cade’s ward and he was about to spill about their fun and frolics? That was a
no no
. “Watch her until she notices. She is the prey and you’re the hunter. You’re
wolf
. Remember that. And she is just a little lamb.”

“And then?”

“Look away. Look busy and uninterested. But make sure that she sees your eyes first. Show her the intent in them.” Stephen grabbed the arm rest of Phoenix’s chair and spun him around. “Like this.”

It took the girl less than twenty seconds to notice that Phoenix was watching her.

“Now look away. Turn yourself back to me, but watch her until the last moment.”

Phoenix shuffled his chair back. “Now what?”

“Now I make myself busy and you wait.” Every time Phoenix tried to lift his eyes to look at the girl, Stephen shook his head. “You need patience. She’s seen you. Don’t you worry about that.” Stephen slid to the computer next to him and switched it on. He had no intention of using it. He didn’t even have a log in for it, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to seem busy and to give Phoenix the space. It didn’t take too long for the girl to reach the books closest to them. Judging by her pretty little dress, dainty shoes and delicate fingers, Stephen doubted she was really interested in the sport section. Phoenix couldn’t resist as he quickly glanced her way and then back again. He smiled to himself as he did.

The door to the library swung open and the bell above the door chimed as Gemma walked in. Her face was blotchy. She had been crying. “Shit,” Stephen said to Phoenix. “Time to go.”