Marked (9 page)

Fletcher sighed, rubbing a wrinkled hand over his face.
“This way.”

With a final glance at Chloe, Jackson followed the man as he
left the room. Pictures adorned the walls, most of them of Chloe from infancy
to adulthood. A couple of the pictures were of another young woman—with dark
hair, a happy smile and bright blue eyes. She was a mixture of Fletcher and
Abigail, taking on her father’s darker coloring and her mother’s eye color.

Chloe’s mother.

Fletcher opened a door to the right, stepped inside and
moved to the wall to allow Jackson to enter. The office was as clean as the
rest of the house, the large desk across from him free of dust. Fletcher closed
the door and waved at the chairs in front of the desk as he walked around it.

“Take a seat.”

Although Jackson preferred to stand, he sank into the chair.
“What do you know about Chloe’s father?”

“Aside from the fact he’s like you? Not much,” Fletcher
remarked with a bitter laugh. “I only met the bastard once, after he showed up
here to break things off with my daughter.” He lifted his head, eyes full of
pain. “He killed her, you know. She didn’t want to live without him. She wasted
way to nothing after Chloe was born.”

A warning chimed in Jackson’s head. “Wasted away?”

“It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. She just…” Fletcher
lowered his gaze, shaking his head. “After she had Chloe she stopped caring.
The doctors did all they could but you can’t make person want to live.” In an
instant the man became hostile, snapping his head up. “I won’t let you do the
same thing to my granddaughter. I won’t watch you destroy her like her father
destroyed my Sylvie.”

Jackson knew the sadistic smile he gave the old man was menacing
but he couldn’t contain his contempt. In human form, it was difficult to bare
his fangs. Instead he displayed his teeth in a manner that revealed his anger.
If given the chance, he’d tear the man who’d deserted his mate apart, piece by
bloody piece.

No one would hurt Chloe. He wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m
nothing
like Chloe’s father.” He decided to
level with Fletcher. The man had balls of steel. “You knew what her father was,
didn’t you? You knew he wasn’t human.”

Fletcher nodded. “I knew.”

“And you didn’t think you should tell Chloe? Don’t you think
she had the right to know who she is and where she comes from?”

Jackson had to fight for control, furious at what might have
happened if his mate hadn’t started the process of dreamsharing. Without her
other half to guide her through the transition she could have gone mad. One of
the Alphas in the area would have had to put her down. With the recent media
attention and fear of their kind, no pack would be willing to take on the
responsibility of a crazed Halfling.

“Don’t act so high and mighty.” Fletcher didn’t back down.
“I took necessary precautions.” When Jackson arched a brow Fletcher said, “It’s
amazing how much information folks are willing to share if you throw a little
money around. I knew what we were dealing with. There was a good chance she
wouldn’t inherit the trait.”

“But she
did
inherit the trait,” Jackson growled.
“It’s a damn good thing she found me. Otherwise she’d put everyone around her
in danger. She’s already feeling the changes.”

“Let’s cut to the chase.” Fletcher reclined in his chair and
Jackson could feel tension electrifying the air. “You brought Chloe home and
you didn’t cut and run. That tells me there’s some honor in you. I want to know
what your intentions are. Are you going to do the right thing? Or do you plan
to amuse yourself by using her until someone else comes along and tickles your
fancy?”

He moved before he was aware, hands slamming on the desk as
he leaned toward Fletcher. “Careful, old man.”

“You don’t scare me.” Fletcher didn’t break eye contact and
no fear accompanied the statement. “That young woman out there means more to me
than anything. If you honestly believe I’m going to back down from the likes of
you, you have another think coming. Answer my question. Why are you here? What
do you want with my granddaughter?”

“Chloe is my mate,” Jackson stated, putting the fact out in
the open. “I intend to claim her as such before my pack.”

“So you’re going to marry her?” Fletcher asked quietly. “Is
that what you’re telling me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. What’s mine, I keep,”
he answered and stood. “And make no mistake, she’s mine.”

“You say that likes she’s—” Fletcher caught himself,
realizing his mistake.

“What? An animal?” He couldn’t help but snort. Leave it to a
human to put things into simple categories—man or beast.

“She’s not a belonging. You don’t own her.”

“No more than she owns me.” When Fletcher frowned, Jackson
smiled. “It’s safe to say your grandchild has me wrapped around her little
finger. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“You’re too old for her, you know,” Fletcher grumbled,
scrubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “Hell, you’re probably older
than me.”

He decided not to clarify or share his age. Yes, he was a
helluva lot older than the man but providing that information wouldn’t do
either of them any favors. Right now they were on common ground.

“Relationships aren’t always perfect.”

“She’s going to live forever, isn’t she?” The strength in
the aging human faded, leaving him a worn out old human who had more years
behind him than ahead. “She’s like you now.”

“Not yet, but she will be.”

Fletcher mulled over his words. “And you’re going to care
for her? You’re going to do everything in your power to make her happy?”

“You have my word.”

Jackson heard Chloe in the other room talking softly to her
grandmother. The floor creaked, indicating she was rising from the couch. He
knew he had to hurry. There was one positive thing coming from all of this, one
thing Gavin Worthington couldn’t have anticipated.

“Did the male who got your daughter pregnant know she was
expecting? Did he leave her in your care knowing she was carrying his child?”

“Of course he did,” Fletcher huffed, cheeks flushing red in
anger, back to his former fighting self. “I don’t think he would have come here
if Sylvie hadn’t pushed the issue. Apparently he didn’t want her coming to see
him anymore. He came here to tell her to stop.”

Just like that, everything changed.

Gavin had given his child over to another male to raise and
protect. If Fletcher accepted Jackson’s union with Chloe, no one could stand in
the way of their mating.

“One more question,” Jackson said, grinning as he heard
Chloe’s approaching footsteps. “If you came face-to-face with him again, what
would you do?”

“The same thing I did the first time.” Fletcher graced
Jackson with a grin of his own, one that promised retribution. “Shoot his
worthless ass.”

Chapter Six

Everything was so freaking
surreal.

Chloe released a soft sigh, shoving the last of her clothing
into her bag.

First she’d woken from a weird stupor on the couch. She
didn’t know how she’d gotten there, although she remembered bits and pieces of
being carried inside. When she’d gone in search of Jackson she’d gotten another
surprise.

He and Gramps were actually being
civil
to each
other.

She’d stepped inside the office braced for war and found two
men talking amicably, without a gun in sight.

It should have been an omen of positive things to come, a
ray of sunshine breaking through treacherous clouds. She could finally ask the
questions she’d always wanted answers to and learn things about herself she’d
always wanted to know. She’d gotten a few snippets of knowledge, learning her
father was in fact a werewolf and that he’d abandoned her mother early in her
pregnancy. It had seemed like things were taking an upswing when she settled
into the chair in grandfather’s office, the men in her life getting along
famously, providing her their undivided attention.

Then, out of the blue,
Rachel
had shown up.

When she’d stormed inside the office and saw Chloe sitting
beside an enormous werewolf whose hand rested possessively on her thigh a look
of betrayal and hurt flashed across her face. Chloe knew how bad it looked.
She’d called Rachel in a panic, unable to tell her anything about the night
before, only to have her friend find her safe and unharmed at home. It was then
Chloe knew her questions would have to wait. If she wanted to salvage the one
friendship she’d relied on her entire life, it was time to start sucking up.

Too bad Rachel wasn’t in a forgiving mood.

As soon as they’d made it to Chloe’s room Rachel let it fly.
Chloe listened as her friend vented, knowing how it felt when a person needed
an outlet. When she learned Rachel had traveled to The Wolf’s Den looking for
her, she couldn’t mask a sympathetic wince.

Rachel didn’t like things she didn’t understand—especially
things that had the ability to shift forms and kill people. It was the primary
interest the friends
didn’t
have in common. Chloe didn’t say a word as
she finished packing her things, aware she wasn’t going to be able to avoid a
confrontation forever. At least all of her eggs were
finally
in one
basket. No more unexpected or unwelcome surprises.

“You should have called me or at least answered your phone,”
Rachel repeated, voice heated. “I went looking for you! I could have become a
Scooby snack.”

“I didn’t have a chance,” she finally said, zipping her bag
closed. “I planned on calling you as soon as I got home.”

“Your new boyfriend wouldn’t have anything to do with the
loss of brain cells, would he?” Rachel snapped. “You couldn’t pry yourself away
from him for five minutes to tell me you were okay? Don’t you think I deserved
that much? You said you were in deep shit, Chloe! I was scared to death.”

“Believe it or not I wasn’t thinking about you at the time.”
She knew it sounded cold but she and Rachel had always been honest with each
other. “I wanted you to tell Gram and Gramps I was okay so they wouldn’t worry.
In case it’s slipped your notice, I’m dealing with some crazy shit right now.”

“Believe me, I noticed. It’s kind of impossible not to when
you bring a werewolf home. What are you thinking? You know how dangerous they
are.” Rachel lowered her voice. Anger marred the beauty of her face. “He could
hurt you and your family. You’ve seen the news. You know what they’re capable
of.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the news.” She whipped around, facing
Rachel. “News that’s brought to the public by humans, with human interests, who
don’t trust the paranormal things they discriminate against. Jackson would
never hurt any of us. You don’t know him, Rach.”

“You don’t know him either,” Rachel shot back. “You just met
the guy.”

“You’re wrong.”

There was a part of her that knew Jackson better than she
knew anyone else. The connection between them was so strong she knew precisely
where he was in the house—exactly where she’d left him at the foot of the
stairs—as though she could
feel
him somehow. In fact, she was anxious to
leave the room and return to him, craving his scent and closeness. He replaced
anxiety with calm, eradicating the doubts that plagued her.

Rachel plopped her hands on her slim hips. “One night with a
werewolf and you’ve decided to go to bat for the other team? Is that it?”

I
am
the other team.

One thought provided clarity and a dizzying amount of
relief. What Jackson had told her was true. The mark on her wrist wasn’t a
coincidence. Her father had passed his genes—his
werewolf
genes—to her.
Like a key opening a lock to the unknown, her future and what it held seemed
limitless. There was no room for fear, only acceptance and a small spark of
excitement. There was so much she would be able to do, so many things she’d be
able to learn. And she’d learn them with a sexy-as-sin man who set her blood on
fire.

Holy wow.

The simple thought made her skin prickle with heat,
anticipation pumping through her system. The night before had been an
appetizer. She wanted to touch him, tease him and taste him. There were no
limits. Jackson wasn’t a blushing violet. He wanted her open, honest and raw.
There wouldn’t be any secrets. Only two people exploring everything together.

For a moment she imagined his fingers darting over her
throat, her flesh tingling at the remembrance of his caress. Tonight he’d touch
her again. He’d expose her to his gaze, eyes combing over her in lust, and
she’d let him.

Elation and desire turned to sadness when she met Rachel’s
gaze.

How did she explain that she’d always been different? She
just hadn’t known
how
different until now.

“What if I told you I was meant to find Jackson?” she asked
slowly, attempting to broach the topic in a way Rachel wouldn’t feel threatened
by. “What if I said our meeting wasn’t accidental?”

“I’d say you’ve been reading too many
Paranormal Junkies
magazines and romance novels.”

“I’m serious.”

Rachel drummed her fingers over her hipbones and tossed her
long, red-hued hair over her shoulder. “I’d want to know where you’re getting
your information from. FYI, a palm reader with a crystal ball doesn’t count.”

“My father,” Chloe blurted, knowing she had to be honest.
“It’s all because of him.”

“Whoa. Back up.” Rachel lowered her hands, confusion etched
on her face, no longer on the offensive. “How did the topic go from Jackson to
your father?”

“My father isn’t human.”

“Hello, I know that. We’ve had this discussion.” Rachel
rolled her eyes as though she could communicate her agitation to the good lord
above. “He’s an asshole you’re better off without.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what
do
you mean?”

There was no going back. Once Rachel knew the truth she
could take it or leave it. The walls seemed to close in as Chloe took a deep
breath, afraid of the ramifications of sharing the news, knowing she didn’t
have any other choice.

Stop delaying the inevitable.

Resigned, she exhaled softly and said, “My father isn’t
human. He’s a werewolf.”

“He’s a
what
?” Rachel hoped like hell her ears were
deceiving her. Chloe had to be making a funny. A really stupid fucking funny.
She didn’t appreciate the attempt at bad humor.

“You heard me.” Chloe tucked a couple of unruly curls behind
her ear, a nervous habit Rachel had become accustomed to. “Don’t parrot.”

Don’t parrot
. A regular phrase the two used that
seemed so out of place.

“Why are you only telling me this now?” Rachel grappled for
words. “How could you keep something like that from me?”

“I didn’t keep anything from you. I didn’t find out until
last night.”

“Last night? Was this before or after you visited The Wolf’s
Den?”

“A bit of both, actually.” Chloe blushed, the apples of her
cheeks turning red. “I always thought I was different but it wasn’t until I
went into The Wolf’s Den and met Jackson…” She exhaled slowly and shifted her
feet, clasping her hands together. After a moment she cleared her throat and
whispered, “That’s when I knew for sure.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine what her friend was thinking
about. Chloe was obviously smitten with Jackson, watching him from the corner
of her eye, allowing her fingers to linger on his arm as she told him she was
packing a few things and would hurry back.

An image of another man—one who’d tossed her inside a room
and left her breathless—flashed before Rachel’s eyes. All muscles, tattoos and
attitude. With eyes captivating and shiny as gold. A warm tingle erupted in her
stomach and goose bumps scattered over her skin. For a moment she’d considered
sticking around, if only to see what no-name-tattoo-artist would do. Then it
had hit her she was flirting with something dangerous enough to shatter her
bones and snuff out her lights.

Slamming back to the present, she brushed off the intrusive
sensations. The man—while good-looking and yummy as sin—had essentially
threatened her if she didn’t do as he said. Climbing out the window was
possibly the smartest decision she’d ever made. She depended on herself to get
shit done. Relying on someone else was just asking for trouble.

“You’re sure?”

Chloe nodded. “Gramps confirmed things this morning.”

“That would explain your attraction to all things kooky,”
Rachel said, glancing at her friend. Humor had always gotten them through rough
patches in the past. Hopefully playful teasing would overcome the tension in
the room.

“Jackson isn’t kooky.”

No, he wasn’t, but she wasn’t letting Chloe off that easy.

Time to break the ice.
“Says the woman sleeping with
him. I’m still on the fence.”

“You’re on the fence about everything.” Her friend’s eyes
warmed, amusement visible in the pools of green. “Maybe you should go out and
find a werewolf. It might change your life.”

Even though she knew the comment was meant as a joke, a
spike of panic made her heart skip a beat. For the second time she pictured the
man from the tattoo shop, shivering when she recalled how he’d looked at her.
His gaze alone had made her nipples ache and her pussy clench. He wasn’t one to
fool around. He’d take what he wanted, when he wanted it. And he wouldn’t ask.

Recovering before she roused her friend’s suspicion, she
returned her hands to her hips. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll stick to plastic
and batteries when it comes to my sexual needs.”

“So you’re not upset?”

Rachel froze caught off guard when reality reached out and
slapped her in the face.
Oh God.
Chloe actually thought she’d think
less
of her because of what her father was. That she might not view her in
the same way once she found out the truth. Why hadn’t she noticed? What in the
hell was wrong with her?

A six-foot-plus man with tattoos and an ego the size of
Everest. That’s what.

“Hell no,” she answered and took a step toward the one
friend she’d always counted on, the only person she truly trusted. “Friends forever,
remember?”

“Even if I’m not who you thought?” Chloe asked quietly. “I’m
not human, Rach. I might become one of the things that freak you out.”

Crap.

True, she’d never liked anything paranormal, but this was
Chloe
.

“Not possible.” Not in a million years. They’d been through
too much—had shared too much—to destroy the bond between them. “I don’t care
what you are. You’re still you. That much hasn’t changed.”

“I hope so,” she whispered, sounding lost. “Everything’s
happened so fast. Yesterday I thought I knew who I was. I’m so confused.”

Crossing the distance, Rachel took her friend into her arms.
Chloe sagged against her, holding her so tight it was hard to breathe. Rachel
didn’t complain. Over the years they’d taken turns being strong for each other.
It was obvious it was her turn to bear the weight, to offer a shoulder to lean
on.

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, stroking a hand over
her friend’s curly hair. “It’s like your grandma says. When one door closes
another one opens.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, she didn’t say
anything. Instead she played the role of the rock, anchoring the fragile young
woman to solid ground. Friends forever. Just as they’d vowed on the elementary
school playground when they were six years old and faced their first bully
together.

Chloe was home and she was safe. To hell with the rest. They
would deal with obstacles in their path as they came to them—just like they
always did. Nothing could come between them. Rachel wouldn’t allow it.

At the present moment, nothing else mattered.