Only Witness, The (17 page)

              Deacon pulled his phone out of his pocket, video called his sister without a word to Josiah. She answered after three rings, half asleep with a satisfied smile on her face. “Is everyone still whole?”

              “For the moment,” Josiah spoke up, “Deacon isn't entirely thrilled about letting me in the house.”

              “Yeah, that's not a surprise,” Adelaide let out a laugh, “but it's okay, it's all okay Deke. I promise, it's all actually really great.” She was smiling on the video, eyes half lidded as if she'd been sleeping. He wasn't sure that he'd ever seen her happier.

              “Are you high?” Deacon asked hopefully, maybe she'd just indulged. Hell, maybe this was a bender but he knew it wasn't.

              “No,” Adelaide stuck her tongue out at him. “I'm just happy, Deke, please understand that. I knew when I saw Josiah that he was the one I've been waiting for.”

              “Don't give me that shit, Adelaide!”

              “How can you not believe me, especially now?” Fury blazed in Adelaide's eyes. “You know that it's true! Fuck Deke, you found her and you still deny it.”

              “Shut your mouth Adelaide.” Deacon should have known that his sister would bring up Vera, of course she would. “Not another word.” If she were in front of him, he might have been tempted to strangle her.

              “Watch the way that you speak to my wife,” Josiah said in a cool tone. “Is what she's saying true, Deacon? Have you found your mate?”

              “I've found nothing,” the words came out in a growl and hurt Deacon to even say them. “You've got five minutes to get what you want and you talk to no one who is here, no one.”

              Josiah's expression was one of amusement and interest, and it made Deacon want to punch him in the face. Anger surged through him, every nerve in his body was on high alert simply waiting for the time to strike. Deacon inhaled a deep breath, tried to calm the beast rising inside of him but it wanted out. It wanted blood and he was close to just letting it happen, all that it would take was for him to issue a challenge.

              Deacon opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Vera came down first; she looked scared. Fuck. “Go back upstairs,” he ordered without letting his gaze linger on her. He wanted to give Josiah no hint that she meant anything to him. It was too bad he couldn't control the look that she gave him.

              “What's going on down here?” she planted her hands on her hips, obviously with no intention of moving until she got an answer. “Deke?”

              “I'm Josiah, Deacon's not to thrilled that I'm here or that I'm his brother-in-law. Despite that, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He moved forward, hand extended, and Deacon seriously considered biting that hand right off.

              “I said you don't talk to anyone here,” Deacon exploded, there was no containing his anger and no controlling himself. He tried, really tried, to hold back once he felt his knuckles popping but the beast burst through anyway. Vera screamed, long and loud which gave Josiah time to move out of the way of the claws. Deacon turned to face her but she couldn't see him, her hands were over her eyes. Her body was shaking and she wouldn't stop screaming.

              “I think it's best if I leave now,” Josiah cleared his throat. “Adelaide and I will come back later for what she needs.”

              “Get out,” Deacon clenched and unclenched his hand. Fuck. How had he slipped? Especially now with the memory of the attack so fresh in her mind. “Vera,” he moved forward, wrapped his hands around her wrists. “Baby, look at me.”

              “Don't touch me,” Vera jerked back from him so hard she stumbled back. “Don't touch me!”

              “Vera, calm down.” Susan spoke up. “Look, he's stepping back. See?” She glared at Deacon until he did just that.

              “I'm not going to touch you,” the words just about killed Deacon to say. He held his hands up in the air.  “I know that you must be scared but...”

              “No,” Vera's head shook rapidly. “No, you don't know shit. You don't know...”

              “I do know, Vera, I feel it.” Deacon kept his hands up but took half a step closer to her. “I can explain everything.”

              “Was it you? Was it you in my apartment? Was it you who attacked me?” Her voice was rising, bordering on hysterical and Deacon knew that there was no way this was going to end well.

              The question cut him to the core, even as scared as she must be, how could she think that he would ever scare her like that? Maybe because he'd scared her before, he flashed back to nearly ravaging her in the middle of her shop. It was all so fucked up. He didn't think that he could take it. “No, Vera, I would never hurt you. Ever.”

              “I want to go home, now. Susan, will you take me home? Please.”

              “I've got a better idea,” Susan told her. “Let's go upstairs and get dressed, I'm sure something of Adelaide's will fit you.”

              “Vera...” Deacon tried to speak to her again and she flinched at the sound of his voice. Susan gave him a look that said he needed to shut up and maybe she was right, but how could he just stand there and watch her be so terrified of him?

              In the end he just stood there, watched Susan walk Vera up the stairs as if she were an invalid or child, and knew that who he was just might have cost him the woman he was meant to spent the rest of his life with.

Chapter FOURTEEN

              Vera didn't remember getting dressed or leaving Deacon's house, but she knew that she had. Susan had been there. Susan had helped her. Now they were standing in front of New to You. “Not sure that this is the best idea, Vera.”

              “This is my shop and home. If I don't go in now, I might never. All I want is to take a shower in my bathroom.” She needed to shower, to wash the scent of Deacon off of her skin and then maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to think clearly.

              Her mind was a mass of confusion, several times on the drive she'd nearly told Susan to turn the truck around and take her back, because the farther that they got away the more nervous she became.

              “Alright,” Susan still looked skeptical.

              “I get why you're nervous but I've got to do this. Maybe we should get a weapon.” Vera frowned as Susan chuckled at that. “What? I can do some damage with a tire iron.”

              “We don't need a tire iron. Come on, if you're so set on going in. If there's anyone in there, stay behind me.”

              “Anything,” Vera corrected. “That was a thing, not a man.” Just like Deacon was apparently a thing and not a man. The thought made her head ache. “When did you turn all badass by the way? Aren't you scared?”

              “Of course I'm scared,” Susan replied; there was the first hint of annoyance in her voice. “That doesn't mean that I can't handle it if a situation arises.”

              “What's that supposed to mean? How?” Vera demanded. “And why haven't you said anything about what we saw? His hand wasn't a hand. It was a claw, a fucking claw. Wait a minute, you knew! You knew that he was... a thing.” She hated thinking of Deacon in terms like that, but what else was she supposed to call him? Was there even a word?

              “Not a thing,” Susan spoke sharply, “he's still Deke, he bleeds just like anyone else. He has feelings, hopes and dreams. He is not an animal, thing, or it.”

              “He had a claw for his hand.” Vera repeated, the image was seared into her mind. Never again would she be able to shut her eyes and not see the claw just like the one that the thing that had broken into her house had used to touch her. “A claw!”

              “Lower your voice, people are going to think that you're crazy.” Susan hissed the words. “If you want to have this conversation, we should go inside.”

              “Fine by me,” Vera snapped. “And quite honestly, I'm feeling like I really don't even know you at all.”

              “Maybe you don't,” Susan replied, “but rest assured, you're about to.”

              Vera wondered what that meant but didn't ask as they stepped inside. She turned off the alarm and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place but the general vibe of the room was wrong. It would never be the same again. She'd always see it through the fear that she'd felt that night. For the first time in a long time the idea of leaving Center City crossed her mind. She could leave the attack and everything else behind, start fresh somewhere that no one knew her, somewhere far away from Deacon Hawke.

              Pain shot through her chest as the idea developed more in her mind. It was suddenly seriously hard to breathe. She gasped in a deep breath and got Susan's attention. “Okay. Easy. Vera, focus. Focus on me. On my voice. Vera!”

              Vera heard fear in her friend’s voice. She turned, desperate to sit. She collapsed in the nearest chair—it made her think of the chair she'd sold Deacon. Every thought turned back to him. The mere suggestion in her mind that she leave him caused her physical pain. Her chest had never been so tight, this was beyond anything that she'd ever felt. In that moment Vera realized that she was more likely than not dying.

              The edges of her vision began to darken, images became blurry and all there was in the world was the rapid thump of her heart. A sharp slap to her face roused her before she could slide beneath the surface. “Wake up, Vera, now. Breathe in deep and slow through your nose and out your mouth.”

              It was Susan's doctor voice, Vera recognized the tone, but underneath there was also panic. It took several moments before she trusted herself to try to speak. “I'm good. I'm...” Vera gripped her hands into the arms of the chair. “I just... I just need... I can't need him! I can't want him this badly!”

              “I'm going to try to help you understand, but I need you to give me your word that no matter what, you keep it to yourself or there will be repercussions for me.”

              The serious expression on Susan's face made Vera's stomach clench tightly. “Alright, I give my word that no matter what you say I'll keep it to myself.” She could keep a secret, always had been able to.

              “You got any liquor? I need a drink before I start.”

              “Upstairs,” Vera swallowed hard. “It's more private up there, too.” The staircase was right there in front of her, but she didn't step forward, not yet. She was pretty sure that she'd never walk up those stairs without remembering what happened next. The thing that had attacked her had ruined it, it would never feel safe.

              “Are you going to be okay going up there?”

              “There's only one way to find out for sure.” Vera rose to her feet, with every step towards the stairs she relived a moment of the attack; all of the attack, things that she knew she'd forgotten sprang to mind as she moved up the stairs. By the time that she pushed the apartment door open she'd remembered one thing for sure. The thing had remarkable blue eyes. They weren't Deacon's eyes.

              “Keep breathing,” Susan advised from behind her, and then they were fully in the apartment.

              “It wasn't Deke,” Vera felt a sense of relief was over her like rain washing away a brutally hot day. “He didn't attack me. The thing had blue eyes. He doesn't have blue eyes.”

              “Of course he didn't,” Susan shut the door behind her and turned the lock. “He's madly in love with you, Vera. The two of you share what is known as empathy, you're so connected you each can feel the other.”

              “What? That's impossible, Susan.”

              “I can see why you would say that, but I assure you, it's possible. I'm going to have to ask you to take me at my word, believe what I say and it will all make sense if you just trust me.”

              “I trust you,” Vera rubbed her hands over her arms; she couldn't even look at the bed. One of the first things she needed to do was get a new mattress and box spring if she was going to stay here. Finally she settled down on the chaise lounge she had against one wall. “Tell me more.”

              “The empathy exists because you're his life mate and he is yours. It's true there's more to him than you knew, but it doesn't make him bad. He's one of the best people I've ever met.” Susan sat down near the foot of the bed. “He's also a werewolf, or Lycan, either term is appropriate, and he's been like that since the day that he was born.”

              “That's not...” Vera bit back on saying possible. It wasn't possible, none of it was, except that deep down there was a part of her that realized it made perfect sense. For the past few days she'd been overrun with emotions, emotions which didn't match her mood, but they had perfectly matched what Deacon was feeling. Why was it so hard to believe that there were people with secrets she could have never imagined? “How can that be true and no one knows? How can there be another world right under the nose of the one I live in?”

              “The secret is kept, carried down generation by generation with the help of trusted friends. It is not like in the movies, it is a way of life.” Susan removed her shoes. “How long have we been friends for, Vera?”

              “A little over two years, why?” The change of subject threw her off balance. She wanted to ask more about how such a secret was kept. How was it that no one had ever blabbed? Questions piled up in her mind; this was supposed to make her less confused, not more.

              “Am I a threat to you? Are you scared of me in any way?”

“A little nervous at the questions but no, not scared.” If anything, Vera felt a sudden sort of anticipation running through her. She watched Susan stretch her legs out, get comfortable. What the hell was going on?

              “Good, hold on to that feeling.” Susan advised. The air around her suddenly began to shimmer, it was a warm soft glow that rolled over and around her legs. Vera blinked several times as she watched Susan's feet begin to blur, there was a glimpse of fur and then with an audible pop her lower legs were gone.