Parallel Desire (30 page)

For several long moments he worked his jaws, struggling to speak. "I—I was … so … lost," he finally managed to stammer. And then he reached for her, pulling her tight within his arms. "You … saved me, sweet love. Your love … found me."

"I'm right here, right here." She buried her face against his neck, drinking in his scent. Wrapping her arms tightly about his torso, she felt the sticky dampness of his fresh blood and cringed. What they'd been forced to do to save him made her shudder; the price had been almost too much to bear. But not when she imagined having lost him forever.

Jared reached a shaky hand to her hair, stroking, then pulled back suddenly. "Erica?" He gaped down at her glowing belly. "Our baby is safe?"

Kelsey couldn't help laughing, a tinkling, joyous sound that welled up from deep inside her soul. "She missed her daddy, that's all. She's perfectly fine."

Jared dropped his head, bending low … and planted a sweet kiss against her belly. She held his head against her bare stomach, stroking his thick, gleaming hair, and prayed silently, thanking the gods for his return.

"Where's Marco?" Jared jerked upright, his black gaze sweeping the room. For the first time in many moments Kelsey remembered their observers.

She glanced around and discovered that Marco was propped against the far wall, his face flushed and covered in a sheen of perspiration. Thea squatted beside him, pressing a bottle of water to his lips. Jake stood on the far side of the room, eyes shut, looking utterly exhausted.

Jared lifted his hand, gesturing toward Marco. "Come closer." His voice was thick and hoarse. "Come to me, Madjin, if you're able."

Marco had been in the whirlwind with them, Kelsey remembered suddenly. He had helped Jared. And he had been pure D'Aravni himself.

"My lord," was all the man whispered, slumping against the wall, a look of utter shame on his face.

Jared coughed, a whole spasm racking his brutalized body. "
My brother
," he said at last, "we must talk."

Marco glanced uncertainly at Thea, who stood, helping him to his feet. "Go on," she prompted, her voice gentle and filled with love. "It's time, Marco. Way past time that you told him the truth."

"I already know the truth." Jared wrapped both arms about his torso protectively, leveling Marco with his stare. "But I need to hear it from
you,
brother."

Marco gazed up at Thea, thousands of words seeming to pass between them, and then at last took her offered hand. He stumbled to his feet unsteadily, then crossed the small distance to Jared's side, dropping into a crouch. He kept Thea's uniform jacket around his waist, covering himself, and dipped into a low, reverent bow right against the floor.

Marco said nothing, waited. Kelsey watched the two men, the struggle evident on Jared's face. As confused as she was, she had no doubt that this moment would be etched within her mind for the rest of her life.

At last Jared reached a shaking hand, cupping the back of Marco's head with a tender gesture. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Marco's hands flattened against the floor of the chamber, his bow becoming more pronounced—but he said nothing.

"How long have you known?" Jared whispered, never moving his hand from atop Marco's bowed head.

"My lord, I beg of you …" Marco's voice broke.

"Tell me, Madjin. Are you truly my brother?"

Marco sighed. "Yes."

"Yet you kept this fact from me?"

Marco pressed his forehead against the floor, hesitating, then, "Yes."

Jared removed his hand from Marco's head, his voice assuming an angry timbre. "Why, in All's name, would you not have told me the truth?"

Marco didn't answer, and Kelsey sought out Thea across the room. Her friend's eyes were so deeply troubled, so melancholy, that she knew she had to intervene. "Jared, give him time. Okay? Just give him time. This has been a very big day for all of us."

"I don't want to give my brother time!" he roared, rearing back on his haunches. "My Madjin is a D'Aravni. … He just saved my life. I felt his love and respect for me, yet he chose to keep the truth from me? He chose not to tell me that he's my own brother?" Jared began to tremble. "You will answer me, Madjin.
Why
did you not
tell
me?"

Marco jolted upright, out of the bow, and clasped Jared by the shoulder. "Because of this! Because I knew you would cast me away. That you'd never trust me again."

"Because of this?" Jared repeated quietly. "I do not understand."

Marco buried his head in both hands. "I never knew, Jared. All my life I have been your bonded servant. I've trained as part of your Madjin circle … but no one ever told me who I truly was. I lived in ignorance until …" Marco shook his head, still averting his eyes.

Jared crawled closer to him, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Until when?" he prompted in a gentle voice. "Tell me how you found out."

"I'm so ashamed," was all Marco whispered. "Please, my lord, forgive me for my lowly station, for being your servant, for being. … Gods, just forgive me for being your brother."

"Why would I forgive you when I'm so deeply grateful?" Jared asked, his eyes never leaving Marco. "You saved my life. You saved Kelsey and Erica. And you"—Jared squeezed Marco's shoulder significantly—"you are the family I've always yearned for. I seek only to know why you've kept this fact from me."

Marco dropped both hands away from his face. "Because I feared you would not let me serve you. All I know is what I am." Marco extended his wrist, unfurling his protector's brand so that it glowed in the air just above his hand. "This is all that I've ever been. If I cannot serve my king … my brother, well, then I am nothing at all."

Jared reached out, skimming his hand across the undulating tattoo that hovered in the air between them. "Surely you trust me better than that, Marco."

"It isn't trust." He retracted the glowing emblem so that it disappeared again, and pulled his wrist against his chest. "It's who I am, what I am. I am not a D'Aravni, not in my heart."

"You certainly looked like one a few moments ago." Jared smiled thoughtfully, glancing toward Thea. "And you, dear cousin, you've kept this secret as well?"

Thea snorted gracelessly. "Please, Jared, don't blame me on that count. I've been begging him to tell you for months."

Jared rocked back on his heels. "So how long have you known—truly, Marco? When did you learn the truth?"

"From Sabrina. When I was ready to mate with Thea, she told me everything. …"

"We share the same parents?"

Marco's dark face blanched. "The same father. My mother was a Madjin in the palace. It's … a bit ugly, I'm afraid."

Jared stared at the floor. "I was never under any illusions about my parents' marriage, about it being a happy one."

Kelsey honestly thought that Marco might faint dead on the spot. "Truly?" was all he blurted out.

"Were you afraid the facts would hurt me?" Jared's voice was still deeply hoarse.

Marco nodded his head. "They were your parents. All you have are your memories of them."

"Not true." Jared rose slowly to his feet. "Not true at all … because now I have a beautiful miracle: I have a brother." Jared extended his large hand toward Kelsey. "And I have a family … a full, perfect family. All around me in this chamber are the ones I love most of all."

Kelsey burrowed against Jared's bare chest, still amazed that he had returned to her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn't blink them away. All she had ever dreamed or hoped for was right within her arms and belly. "If you hadn't come back to me," she whispered against him. "If you hadn't …"

Jared stroked her hair, winding his fingers through it in long, lingering waves. "I will always find my way back to you, sweet Kelsha."

"I just couldn't let you go." She felt the dampness of her tears touch his skin. "I'm sorry it had to be so harsh, getting you home."

"You're brave, sweetheart. So very brave." Jared shifted her in his embrace, calling out, "Jakob? It's your turn next."

"I'm here, J." Jake had held his distance for the past moments, obviously quiet inside his own head. He stood on the far side of the chamber, hands shoved deep in both pockets, staring at the floor.

"You are my other brother," Jared pronounced softly. "And I want to know why you're here and not with Medic Tyler."

"She's gone, J. That's all. Besides, where else would I be? Not when we were saving your sorry Refarian ass."

With that, they all began to laugh. The heady release was so palpable, the reality that they'd dodged a poison bullet from eternity so intense, what could they do but laugh?

They were together; that was the only thing that mattered. Their strange, ragtag little family was back together at last.

S
helby huddled on the bench
, waiting for the bus that would take her from the square in downtown Jackson to … where? Gods only knew. The line just went in a fat circular arc, trekking from hotel to motel, resort to resort. She was in an idiotic loop that led to absolutely nowhere. The thing was, she could have practically been to Cheyenne by now, but she just couldn't summon up the nerve to really leave Jake.

His eyes haunted her, those electric green depths that forever seemed to sift right through her soul, to dive into the marrow of her very being.

You have to stand still for a while. Stand still with me.

That's what he'd said, and his urgent, loving words had only driven her farther away. Had only made her want to run, just like he'd accused her of doing. So if she really was a runner, why was she still riding circles around Jackson, just ten miles away from the one man who terrified her more than anyone else in the universe?

Because you can't leave him. And you can't stop loving him, either. … Running won't ever fix that one. You're a liar, but those lies can't keep you away from him.

She pulled her denim jacket tightly about her body, cursing Wyoming for being so godsdamned cold, even now in May. Whatever happened to global warming? Obviously someone in this part of the human realm hadn't gotten that memo, not with the light snow flurries currently falling from the sky. The snow itself seemed like nothing so much as one big, gargantuan lie. June was right around the corner, yet they had snow sifting down on them, as soft as a summer rain.

I'll call him. That's what I'll do! Just give him a little ring on his cell and make sure that he's all right.
She felt within her jacket pocket but with sinking awareness remembered that she'd dropped the phone on her bed back at base. It had been meant as a gesture, one of those big, dramatic statements that indicated she was cutting all ties between the two of them. So much for melodrama, always better in theory than actual practice. What she wouldn't do just to have that little slim-line right back in her cozy pocket.

Gods, what she wouldn't do to hear Jake's throaty, deep voice just one more time.

You won't leave me. Not this time.

Clearly he hadn't thought her actually capable of it, hadn't believed the very worst of her nature. Tears burned her eyes, blurring her view of the square, of the bars and tourist shops lined all about her. Of the newly fallen snow dusting the elk-horn arch across the street.

From nowhere the urge to time walk overcame her.
I could just delve in, reach out … a little bit. I could know whether Jake and I are actually meant to have a future
. She bucked against the compulsion, knowing that whatever she might see, it would only doom her to fulfilling her vision's prophecy. Still, the impulse was there, that need to see what life might offer them if only she
could
stop running.

From around the corner, a bus lurched forward, hissing as it came to a stop in front of her. The door cranked open, the bus driver staring down at her expectantly. "Where you headed?" Shelby asked, stalling. The sign on the front said
green line.

"This is the In-Town, honey. That's what you've got."

"But your sign says it's the—"

"Doesn't matter what the sign says," the driver told her impatiently. "This is the In-Town line."

Lies and more godsdamned lies
. Signs that claimed what wasn't the truth; snow when it should have been practically summer; men who went by names that didn't belong to them.
Lies and more lies
, she thought again, feeling suddenly furious.

Cars passed by, their headlights arcing through the nighttime that enfolded her. The driver continued to wait, her impatience so concrete she could almost smell the woman's irritation. "You gonna keep sitting there, or you gonna do something?"

Hell, yeah, she was going to do something. She rose slowly to her feet, tugging her denim jacket close about her body. The bus released another hissing sigh as if it were calling out to her, but she walked past its open door … and kept on walking. Then began running. Running and running and running; for her very life she ran, never planning to stop.

Because finally, at long last, she knew how she was going to fix the madness.

S
helby's feet slapped against
the hardwood of the main lodge as she tore up the two flights of stairs that would take her to Jake's quarters. At the first landing, she nearly bowled over her queen, who was carrying several blankets in her arms.

"Whoa! Shelby, I thought you were …"

Breathlessly, she lowered into a half bow. "I'm back, my lady."

"And with a vengeance, I see." Kelsey gave her an insightful smile. "He went upstairs a while ago, so you should be in luck."

Shelby nodded, murmured a thank-you, and hit the next flight of stairs.

Arriving at Jake's door, she didn't wait to knock, didn't bother with any kind of formality—she just turned the knob and catapulted right through. Jake sat sprawled on the leather sofa in nothing but a pair of thin boxer shorts, a leather-bound novel in his hand. As she stumbled into the room, he jumped to his feet with a surprised shout.

"What
the
… Shell?" He looked past her at the open door as she kicked it shut without a backward glance. "I thought you'd left." His green eyes were bloodshot tired, with dark smudges beneath them that betrayed his deep emotion and exhaustion.

"I did leave, but then …"

"You came back," he finished quietly.

She gave him a hesitant smile and took a few slow steps forward. "I hope that's all right."

He gave a vigorous nod. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, totally okay, of course. Do you want to … sit down or something?" He indicated the sofa, turning slightly so that the muscles of his bare chest rippled magnificently.

You are so very gorgeous. A true thing of beauty.

"You're not going commando," she observed flirtatiously.

Color rose to his face, and he gave the band of his boxers a little pop. "I—I, uh, I picked these up at the commissary. They're comfortable."

"Calvin Klein?" She took another step closer, struggling to breathe.

He stared down at the boxers as if he'd never noticed them before. "I dunno … I guess so? One of our purchasing agents has gotten way into the human realm, and I just thought … I dunno," he repeated, popping the waistband again. "I thought they were a good idea."

She bobbed her head, gasping, and staggered toward the sofa. "I … ran the … whole way here."

He planted one of his bearlike hands on her shoulder, pushing her onto the leather couch. "Sit down." Her body obeyed easily, folding downward. "Ran … from where?"

She pressed a trembling hand to her temple. "I think from town."

"Gods, Shell." He rummaged around on the sofa and then thrust a thick sweatshirt into her hands. "Put this on; you're shaking all over."

She did as he ordered, drinking in the heady scent of him that suffused the cotton pullover. If he hadn't been with her, she'd have curled up with the thing, holding it close against her body and sniffing it until the sun cracked the dawn.

As she settled back onto the sofa, finally catching her breath, he kept his hands self-consciously in front of his hips, and then after several awkward moments crossed the room, yanking a white T-shirt off the floor and over his head. As if that flimsy layer of clothing could hide the pure god that he was—could possibly contain his bulky muscles and his large, developed body.

"Do you need some water?" He gestured toward what she realized was a small kitchenette. "Or … food? I have a whole fridge full. I could make you a sandwich. Or soup … or not." He dipped his head, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly. "Whatever. I can take care of you."

"I know you can, Scott."

His bright eyes met hers in a flash. "Don't call me that. I've told you before," he said in a sharp tone.

She sank back into the sofa, barely able to lift her head. "I'm sick of all the dishonesty. In this war. And between us."

"There's no lies with you and me, Shell."

"Of course there are. Big, bad lies, the kind that can kill a relationship." She worked to lift her eyes to his, afraid of what she'd see. The white-hot pain in his gaze ripped at her very soul. "Every day I spend with you is a lie. Because you're Scott Dillon, and until you admit that fact—really admit it—then we got no future, you and me. You're still running, Scott. Your maneuver just looks a little bit different than mine. I had to accept who and what you are as an Antousian; now you need to do the same thing and stop running from the truth of who you are."

He staggered backward. "I'm not the one running here; that's you."

She rose to her feet, feeling unsteady, but closing the distance between them easily. "So you've said, boy. So you've said. But I'm not the one hiding behind a name that's not my own.
Scott
."

"Why does it matter?" he asked in a shockingly small voice. "Huh, Shelby? It shouldn't matter, not really."

"Because Jake still mourns Hope, still lives in the past, and he always will. That's why." She slapped her chest significantly. "But Scott? Well, Scott lives for me."

He shook his head, wincing as if she'd just shot him. "Please don't. Please just … really, just … don't."

"Why not, Scott? Does it hurt you for me to call you by name, Scott? Scott Dillon.
S'Skautsa
. Beautiful name, lovely Refarian name, plopped right down on an Antousian boy."

He lifted both hands against her, shielding himself. "Don't do this," he said, his voice almost pleading.

"Tell me why I shouldn't … S'Skautsa?"

"Because it is a Refarian name!"
He screamed loud enough to rouse the entire compound. "I was given a Refarian name. …"

"Yes, that's right," she whispered, closing in on him, but still he stumbled backward. "You're Refarian."

"
Antousian
," he cried out in a plaintive voice. "A fucking hybrid freak. Everything you hate and despise. No wonder you run from me."

"I'm here, Scott," she whispered, reaching to touch his cheek. "And I'm not going anywhere. I don't despise what you are."

"I am a
vlksai
!"
he spit out, clenching both her shoulders within his hands.

"Yet your parents gave you the name of a great Refarian king from the very beginning. I wonder why that was."

He lifted his arm over his face, still backing up until he hit the solid wall of his room. "Stop, Shell. I beg of you."

She placed her hands squarely against his strong, muscular chest. "They gave you a Refarian name, Scott, for one reason and one reason only. Are you going to tell me why?"

He shook his head, clearly unwilling to lower his arm.

"Then I'm going to say it," she continued. "Because they knew your heart. They knew what and who you were going to be, right down to the marrow of your being, long before you even existed. You aren't a killer, and you're not a monster. … You're the gentlest, kindest man I've ever known. Of any species.
Any species.
"

Slowly, he lowered his arm, tears gleaming in his exotic eyes. "I can't accept that I'm Refarian."

"Scott does. I know him pretty well, you know, and he doesn't even consider himself Antousian at all."

He slumped heavily. "His life's been different than mine so far. Charmed."

"But you
are
Scott. Say it. Agree with me."

"No," he argued, shaking his head vigorously. "This is about you and your need to run."

"I won't confront that inside myself until you—you, Scott Dillon—stop running from me and the rest of the world. Tell me now. What is your name?
Tell me
!"

From the look on his dark face, she might as well have stabbed him with a dagger. "I don't mourn her anymore," he practically breathed.

"No, you're right. You don't. You only mourn the man you were before she died. So say it with me; tell me your name."

He heaved at the air between them, sucking in dry, desperate gasps of it—eyeing her so angrily, she almost decided to back down from this plan of hers. But the thing was, she knew it was the only way. Every instinct inside of her said that he had to come clean with her, that they could have a future only if he would truly
be
himself.

One last time, she encouraged him; she pushed forward, wrapping her arms upward about his neck. Burrowing into him, planting her forehead against his thick, powerful chest, she nearly whimpered, "Tell me your name, soldier."

A long, long silence met her entreaty, and then he crumpled into her arms with a whisper. "I am S'Skautsa."

T
he need to claim her
came roaring to life within his blood. He was so desperate to have that feminine, delicate body of hers pushed up beneath his that he began to tremble right down to his bare feet. With a bellowing growl, he spun her around until her back was up against the wall. Planting his palms on each side of her face, he framed her much smaller body with his own. His cock stiffened inside his boxers, lengthening until it pushed right out of the opening in front. Pressing his hips against her, he let her feel just how turned on he was.