Heart of the Warrior (5 page)

The desk attendant handed her the key card for her room and
she gave him a warm smile, her eyes hidden behind fashionable sunglasses
despite it being nighttime.

"Thank you." She followed the bell boy into the
elevator and up to her suite. After he deposited her luggage and she was
finally alone, she took out her cell and punched in a number.

"Hello? Gigi?" Gina’s mom’s voice. Her given name
was Virginia, but her family always called her Gigi or Gina.

"Hi, Mom. I just wanted you to know I’m here."

"Oh honey, please. You don’t have to do this. Your dad
and I—"

"Mom. Yes, I do. I do need to do this, and you know
why."

"Gina, you need to let this go. Do you really think
your brother would have wanted this?"

"Well, Gabe isn’t alive anymore to speak for himself,
now is he? That asshole and his friends made sure of that. And now he has to
pay like all the rest." She had been hunting down her brother's killers
for the last year, and only one remained. She saved the best – and hardest –
for last.

"Honey—?"

"No, Mom! I'm doing this. I just wanted you to know I'm
here. I'll call you after it's done." She hung up and tossed her phone on
the bed.

Gina took off her sunglasses and walked to the window that
overlooked The Chicago River. Severin Bannon had betrayed her brother. He had
betrayed Gabriel and killed him. Now she was in Chicago to ensure Severin paid
for what he had done.

Severin couldn’t sleep. Well, not really. After drinking Lag
straight from the bottle and getting to where he couldn’t feel anything but the
misery, he somehow managed his way home, even if he couldn't remember how. He
blinked and tried to focus on his surroundings in his basement studio. Mr. Lagavulin
had performed admirably and now the bottle lay empty on its side on the floor
next to his hand, which hung over the edge of the couch. Wait. Was that his
hand? He slowly wiggled his fingers. Yep.

With a groan, he peeled his face off the leather cushion. It
stuck where it made contact with the cowhide, and his mouth felt as if it had
been swabbed with cotton then dried with a hair dryer.

Moan.

And what bunch of house trolls decided to take up residence
inside his head to pound from the inside-out with pick-axes?

Blinking repeatedly, he looked around the dimly lit
basement. His bed on the other side of the large room remained made since he
had slept on the couch, and only one lamp was on in the corner where he
painted.

Why was the lamp on? Had he painted last night? He painted
when he was upset, stressed, or just needed a break, but he couldn’t remember
painting last night, although he had certainly been in the right frame of mind.

He glanced at the canvas on his easel and his stomach
rolled. Ari’s face stared back at him. Okay, so he
had
painted last
night. Funny how he couldn’t remember. He looked at the empty bottle on the
floor. Well, maybe not so funny.

His gaze lifted back to the small canvas of Ari’s perfect
face. Even when he was drunk off his gourd, he could paint better than most
sober people, but shit, that thing had to get out of his house. Like the ten
other portraits of Arion he had painted in the last six weeks, he needed to get
rid of it so he didn’t have to look at it day in and day out and be reminded of
what he couldn’t have.

And after last night, it was clear he couldn’t have Ari. Ari
had been into that female. Maybe he was plundering her right now. The thought
made his stomach turn again, and Sev stumbled his way to the bathroom before he
messed up his floor. Not that his stomach contained a lot to upchuck, but
still.

After the coughing and retching stopped, he turned on the
faucet and splashed cold water on his face and neck. Over and over.
Splash-splash.
The cool moisture felt good. He cupped his hands and caught the running water
then lifted it to his mouth. Sucking it in, he swished and swallowed.
Aaahh.

Luckily, as with a cobalt high, hangovers didn’t last long
in vampires. By the time Sev downed a pain reliever with a mug of black coffee,
showered, and dressed, he was feeling much better. So he whipped up some eggs
and toast for breakfast and snarfed it down before calling his mother and
inviting her over for a visit, as well as to take Ari’s portrait.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, Sev. How are you?" His mom's voice sounded
concerned. It was amazing how she was able to read his mood so easily.

"I'm okay. Hung over." He sipped his coffee.
"Can you come over for lunch today?"

He could almost hear her compassionate smile through the
phone. "You have more paintings for me, don't you?"

Sev sighed. "Just a couple." He looked down at his
mug of coffee. "But I also thought it'd be nice to get together." Sev
needed to talk to his mom. She always kept him grounded, and right now, he
needed to be grounded in the worst way. Otherwise, he was going to float away
in a hot air balloon of despair.

"I'll bring a pot of chili."

Yeah, Mom knew he was hurting. She only brought him chili
when he needed comforting. The last time she'd made him homemade chili was when
Gabe died.

"That sounds perfect, Mom. I'll see you in a couple
hours."

"I'll be there. I love you."

"Love you, too, Mom."

His mom was the reason he had moved to Chicago. She had come
here years ago to open an art gallery. Sev hated being away from her, so when
his undercover spec ops gig in Atlanta had come to an abrupt end a year ago,
he'd packed up and moved here. Before that, he had fought in the human military
Special Forces.

Sev had been born to be a warrior in one way or another, but
under his hard exterior, he possessed an uncanny eye for art, hence his talents
with paint and brush. Being that his mom was an artist, he often wondered if
his artistic ability had been as much a gift from her as his iron skin had
been.

Of course, then there was the matter of his talents with
hand-to-hand combat and weapons. That would have been his dad’s gift to him,
right? Yay for Dad. The prick. Sev rolled his eyes.

After hanging up the phone, he cleaned the kitchen, which he
hadn't done in a few days, then started the laundry. Sev had just thrown in his
second load when the doorbell rang. He rushed to open it and his mom’s smiling
face stared back. She was holding a large pot, and the heavenly smell of chili
instantly calmed him.

"Feelee." It was what he called his mom in public,
because calling her mom would have raised eyebrows since she looked younger
than he did. With his neighbor out working in the yard next door, Sev didn't
take the chance. And being that her name was Felice, Feelee just came
naturally.

"Hi, sweetie." She stepped past him and he shut
the door then followed her into the kitchen.

"Thanks for coming over."

She smiled at him then opened the fridge and made room for
the pot. "I can't turn down my only son's invitation, can I?"

Sev smiled. "No, I guess not."

His mom had never had more children, so he knew she loved
her time with him as much as he did.

She shut the fridge, poured a cup of coffee, then turned and
leaned back against the counter as she blew over the surface of the hot liquid
to cool it. Her eyes scrutinized him. She knew him better than anyone.

"How are you, son? You look tired."

He smiled weakly. "I am tired."

"Why?"

Sev’s mind flew instantly to Ari and last night at Four
Alarm. "Oh, it’s nothing, Mom. I’ll be fine."

His mom clucked her tongue. "I know that look."
She took a deep breath and sighed. "Boy trouble, huh?"

How did she do that? Know just what was wrong with him like
that? There was no hiding his sorrow from her. But wasn’t that why he had
invited her over in the first place? So he could talk to someone about what he
was feeling? Well, that and to get rid of the two portraits of Arion, because
not only did he have last night’s water color, he also had an oil painting of
Arion from last week he needed to get rid of.

"How do I have such bad luck with men, Mom? First
Gabriel, and now I’ve fallen for a guy who is clearly into women, not
men."

There had been other males, but Gabriel was the only one
besides Ari Sev had considered special. He and Gabe hadn't been biological
mates, but Sev had loved Gabe. He had wanted to build a home with Gabe, but
shit had fallen apart before they could.

Gabriel's death still haunted him because he could have
stopped it. It would have destroyed years of undercover work, but he could have
saved Gabe's life. Everything happened so fast that night, but having a year to
think about all the could haves, would haves, and should haves made Sev see
about twenty other ways that night could have gone down to keep Gabe alive.

Sev's fixated commander, Jonas, who had been Gabe's former,
partially-mated lover, had let his jealousy and sorrow over Gabe's death throw
Sev under the bus. When questions got asked about Sev's employment with Vampire
Dreck Affairs, or VDA for short, Jonas had disavowed him, claiming Sev had
never been a VDA agent, which made it look like Sev was a traitor working with
the drecks to build the cobalt distribution network for the entire United
States.

At least now Sev knew why he had been the only agent sent in
to the factory that night. Jonas had known a raid was planned, and from what
Sev had pieced together, Jonas had hoped to get rid of Severin. Only he hadn't
expected such a large presence of military-grade drecks to show up to guard an
outbound shipment. Big mistake. Instead of killing Severin, Jonas had ended up
killing the very person he wanted to protect: Gabe.

"Gabriel wasn’t your fault, honey," his mom said.
"You need to stop blaming yourself for that."

"I know, but I can't help it. I could have done things
differently." Sev traced a pattern in the granite countertop with his
finger. Gabe had never known that he worked for VDA. Sev hadn't told anyone
other than his mom, because his cover was that deep. Maybe he should have told
Gabe. At least then Gabe wouldn't have died thinking Sev had betrayed him, and
Gabe's sister wouldn't be after his ass right now. It was obvious she had
stripped Gabe's memories before he passed.

His mom tsked. "Sure, and jeopardized your own life and
the lives of so many others in the process. You did what you could, Sev. Stop
beating yourself up."

"Yeah, but my commander didn't disavow the others. He
disavowed me. So, my life
is
in jeopardy if someone tracks me
down."

"I'm sure if anyone was going to track you down, they
would have come for you by now. Let it go."

His mom was right. He needed to let it go, but he just
couldn't, especially with Gabe's sister out there God-knew-where, because he
knew she was and that she was pissed off.

"So, are you going to show me those paintings or
not?" His mom tapped a long, elegant finger against her coffee mug,
changing the subject as deftly as she always did when Gabe came up in
conversation.

"Sure, yeah. Come on. They’re downstairs."

She followed him down the stairs and he clicked on the
overhead lights.

"Oh, that’s lovely." Her eyes fixed on the canvas
resting on the easel.

Sev’s heart broke as he looked at the painting and
remembered the night before and Arion kissing that woman. Lucky girl.

"So, this is who you were talking about, right? This is
the one who likes women that you’re in love with?"

"I’m not in love with him." Sev skulked to the
opposite side of the room and crossed his arms as he tried to look casual.

"Uh-huh." His mom didn’t sound like she believed
him. "But this is him?"

He nodded and looked at the floor, letting his long, blond
hair cover his face so she wouldn't see his anguish.

"Thought so. Not that it was hard to figure out with
all the portraits you've been painting of him and handing off to me."

Sev had a feeling she'd already figured out the four-one-one
on the sitch by now. After all, Arion was all he had been painting for weeks.
And each painting was as tragic to his heart as the last one. No doubt his mom
had figured out a while ago he was fixated on the male.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward to pull the oil
painting away from the wall and set it on an empty easel. "This one,
too."

He averted his gaze uncomfortably from the painting of two
men standing together, arms around each other, their foreheads touching. It
hurt Sev to look at it. It was a pose he now knew would never become reality.

"You’ve captured the moment perfectly," she said.

His mom paced to one side then back, one arm across her
torso, the elbow of the other pressed against it as she rested her chin against
her thumb and forefinger as if in contemplation. Her eye was all professional,
while his only saw the personal component of his work.

"I can tell you were personally inspired. I can feel
the emotion." She leaned toward the oil painting then stood back again.
"I feel the love between them, but the dark colors show the pain."

His mom turned compassionate eyes on him, and she smiled
warmly.

"Don’t look at me like that, Mom."

"And how am I looking at you?"

"Like you want to give me a bowl of ice cream as if
that will make it all better. But it won’t. It won’t make it all better."
He turned away so she wouldn’t see the tears of frustration well in his eyes.
"Damn it, Mom! I hate this. I fucking hate this!"

His mom’s hand touched his shoulder. "I knew it. You
love him."

If only she knew. What was happening between him and Ari –
at least on his end – went way beyond mere love. But he wasn't ready to reveal
to his mom that he was forming a mating connection to the other male. He didn't
want his mom to worry.