Phoenix Broken (17 page)

"It's not the same, though. As remembering myself."

"No, it's not, but guess what?"

He looked at her, those big brown eyes making her ache inside. "What?"

"Your dreams won't ever forget. You'll always get to see her perfectly when you dream, Toby."

His eyes widened, then a wondering smile lit his face. "You're right! I do remember her when I'm dreaming. I
do."
His smile grew, then faded with his voice, a wistfulness in his eyes that tore at her. "She was
so
pretty, Miss Des. I wish you could've seen her."

She straightened, and poked his nose to distract them both as Mags' voice sounded on the other side of the door. "I may not have known her, but I know your mom was beautiful.”

“How could you?”

“Because you and your sister are.”

He made a face. “Boys aren’t beautiful, Miss Des.”

Ha! Have you seen your dad?

She only shook her head. “Anyone can be beautiful, silly. Now are you going to finish your hot dog or not?”

"You know what's in these things?" He shook his head as she took a big bite, finishing off hers as Mags and Tish emerged from the restroom.

"I don't think I care." She licked her fingers again.

"Yeah, me either." Toby shoved half of his dog in his mouth, his big eyes laughing at her.

An hour later, they took the kids home, singing Monster Mash at the top of their lungs. Des eyed the sprawling bungalow outlined in the glow of streetlights as Mags pulled up. Bikes on the overgrown lawn, leaves falling in the twilight. It looked so normal, so suburbia.

Like an alien planet, in other words. One she'd been dying to visit for years. Des shook her head, she'd never have that life. Didn’t really want it, not anymore, not like when she'd been a kid, anyway.

Still, something inside her ached as she studied Scott's pretty little house.

Toby jumped out of the backseat as soon as they stopped. Going straight to her door and opening it. Drat the little gentleman.

Obviously, her wish to avoid seeing Scott a second time that day was not going to be granted. She stepped out just in time to see him come to the open front door. Mags and Tish had already gone inside. Scott saw Des at the same moment she saw him. He looked thunderstruck as she came up the sidewalk, Toby tugging at her hand as they reached the front step.

“Bye, Miss Des! You’re still not that pretty," he teased, "but you
are
weird and….”

Distracted from Scott's glower, she looked down at the boy's words. "And?"

"Weird is…good. It's nice."

“That works. I'd rather be nice than pretty anyway.” She wanted to give him a hug, but poked his nose again instead.

Toby laughed at her. Scott's eyes widened as his son darted past him into the house, a look in them she couldn't begin to identify. He reached out to shut the door quietly. Folding his arms, Scott leaned against it. His expression was unreadable, and the emotions whirling from him were in such flux they gave her a headache.

Her Johnny was all business now; the tank and sweats from earlier were gone. A pin-striped grey and white button-up shirt and a dark grey jacket covered that powerful chest and shoulders. Somehow that only heightened his sex appeal.

He was sporting a tie, too; loosened and slack as if he'd tugged it free in irritation as soon as he'd stepped through the door of his home. There was something about that mussed look that'd always made Des' knees a little weak. Add Scott into the equation and she was damn near swooning.

In loosening the tie, he'd left two buttons undone. Leaving the tanned line of his throat exposed, dark against his shirt collar. Des’ tongue touched her lips. Scott cursed under his breath, making her glance at him and then away. The ever-present desire hung between them, making it a little hard to breathe.

Silence reigned for one long moment. Birds sang. Inside the house, laughter could be heard.

Scott spoke. “Mags reported that you’d be out with Calimente for the evening or I wouldn't have called her to get the twins. I can't have you around my kids, Des."

It took a second for his words to sink in. When they did, they sliced deep and hard
.
She lifted a hand to her throat, nodding as she tried to swallow the lump there.

"Right. The whole demon whore thing again. Got it."

She dimly noted the tic in his jaw pulse again, before she spun blindly for the car.

What in omno had she been thinking?

There was simply
no
possibility
this hard, broken man who looked at her with a mixture of rage and lust could be her
mate.

There was some other
reason for her weird pull toward him. There had to be. A latent masochism, maybe. Her breath came short. Des walked faster.

She'd been so
proud
of her interaction with those sweet kids, like,
Hey, I can
do
this.
There are actually little people in the world who won't sneer when I walk past as if they just noticed something smelly on their shoes, or throw rocks at my back, or laugh…

Already brought close by her earlier conversation with Toby, images from her last time in the Saandon crashed down on Desdemona as she stumbled along the sidewalk.

Her mother's funeral.

Those evil, fucking children. Their high-pitched laughter ringing out as they danced around the pyre her father had lit and then abandoned, taking a perplexed Guido with him, leaving Des to face the small crowd of demons by herself.

''The human's dead, the half breed's next…'

The adults had not remarked on the children's rhyme, they'd just stared at her with cold, knowing eyes.

'…human's dead, the half breed's next…'

Des was reaching to cover her ears when she caught herself.

Omno
, she couldn't get any air. Her hand reached out to touch the cooling metal of Mags' car. She looked around blinking, not sure how she had gotten there. Or why Scott stood next to her, his green eyes wide with some emotion she didn't…
couldn't…
give a damn about. Not now.

The attack was rising. She'd had so many in the last year, she knew how to deal with them.
Don't fight the panic.
Accept it, then let it go.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're white as a sheet. What is it?"

She swayed, but batted his hand away when he tried to reach for her.

"Nothing. Go away, Johnny."

"Yeah, screw that." Giving her no choice, Scott yanked her into his arms. Despite herself, Des sagged in his embrace, her shoulders hitching as she choked back the tears.

"Breathe," he ordered.

She closed her eyes and obeyed, trying to calm her racing heart. The anxiety didn't strike so often as it had the first weeks after her mother's death, but when it made an appearance it was as awful as ever. Des buried her face in Scott's throat, the scent of him soothing; hints of pine and grass.  Her heart slowed as he held her, one hand cupping the back of her neck, his strong fingers caressing her nape. For an instant, she actually allowed herself to feel safe, protected. She pretended that he cared.

His breath was soft against her ear. "What's wrong? Tell me, angel."

She forced a laugh as his words registered.
You, Johnny. You are
everything
that is fucking wrong.

It took all that she had, but Des shoved away from the false promise of that warm strength. Yanking open the door, she fell into the seat, her legs shaking. "Nothing's wrong."

"I hurt you again. Fuck, Des, I didn't—"

"You didn't hurt me, never fear." The lie slid past her lips, and she tried very hard to believe it. "I reserve that for people I can trust."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lips press together in recognition of the words he'd once thrown at her.

"By the way," she said, "Guido did mention that he's pissed about his tree. But he's fine with you coming back to the club as long as you promise to behave."

Well, for the duration of our little farce anyway. After, maybe you might want to give Centaries a really wide berth. Possibly move. Like to Greenland.

Instead of being distracted from her emotional state—as she'd intended—Scott ignored this tidbit, putting his hands on the edge of her open window. His gaze never left hers as he leaned over. "Look, what I said. About the kids. I think you misunderstood what I actually—"

Mags opened her door with a laugh. Neither of them had noticed her approaching. “Those monsters are on a candy high! My ears are still ringing. Sorry, Davidson. Hopefully they’ll crash and burn real soon." She started the car, then looked from Scott’s intent expression to Des’ strained one.

“Ahh…you ready to go, Des?"

Her throat so tight she could barely speak, Des nodded. "Yes, please."

The telepath hit the gas. With a curse, Scott lifted his hands, stepping back just as they pulled away with a squeal.

"Are you okay?" Mags asked quietly several blocks later.

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

Des
wanted to say,
"Yeah sure, everything's just peachy, Mags."
She wanted even more to believe it.

But as Guido had said, she sucked at lies. Even when they were to nobody but her own stupid self.

No matter what Desdemona said, Scott knew he'd hurt her alright. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't done it before, but this time…

The look on her face. The way those grey eyes had seemed to shatter inward and collapse.

Scott's stomach twisted as he watched the Charger disappear around the corner.

He had zero concerns that Des was a danger to his
children.
Even knowing what she was, the thought struck him as ludicrous. The problem was, being around her put Toby and Tish in danger. More danger than the twins were already in because of Cross. Desdemona had her own target on her back. Even with Mags present and the team that perpetually shadowed his children, it wasn't enough. If they were all together, he'd want more than a team, more like a fucking arsenal. By which he meant himself.

She hadn't taken his words that way.

Obviously.
He was an idiot.

Scott wandered up the walk and into the house, unable to stop thinking about Des as he wound his way through the hall and into the bathroom, where the kids were supposed to be getting ready for bed.

His words had been poorly thought out. Part of it was being so damn keyed up from the impromptu meeting with Senator Raines Jules had insisted he attend out of left field. Scott still didn't understand where that'd come from. Politics were not his strong suit. He thought he'd held his own, but still… there was no denying he'd been out of sorts when he got home.

Seeing Des walk up to his door, looking so beautiful it hurt, laughing with Toby. Toby smiling. Laughing
.

God, the way the kid had looked at her.
Like she hung the moon and lit the stars. Toby didn't look at anyone like that, not even Rissa, whom he adored. Not since Fan—

Scott hadn’t been prepared mentally for that shit. So, he'd spoke without thinking.

It was pretty clear that Des had taken his statement personally.
And why the fuck shouldn't she?
Guilt pressed in at him from all sides. Scott rubbed his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. The truth was, he'd been a total shit.

She'd looked like someone seconds from a full-blown panic attack, if not worse. Scott had good reason to know what PTSD looked like and—

"I liked Miss Des. Do you really work with her?" Toby was in front of the sink, brushing his teeth dutifully. "Is she a
para?"

For a second, Scott just blinked. Toby wasn't in the habit of starting conversations with him. Not anymore.

"Yeah. I do," he said slowly. "And no she's not, she's, well …she's different." For some reason, he didn't want to give her the label
demon.

"Yeah, she is. She's weird." Toby laughed. "Do you like her?" The words were muffled around the mouthful of toothpaste foaming from the corners of his son's mouth.

Where the hell was this coming from?

Unable to answer honestly, he chose not to answer at all. Scott just shrugged and handled Toby a washcloth.

"About three guys asked Miss Des for her number when we were at the park." His son rinsed and wiped his mouth, hopping down from the stool.

"Five," Tish corrected, walking through the open door in her Hello Kitty pajamas, obviously wondering what was keeping them. "I counted."

A burst of irrational jealousy tightened Scott's shoulders but he ignored it to ask somewhat evenly, "No guys asked Miss Mags out?"

“Nope," Tish twirled a curl as she considered his words. "Miss Mags is crazy beautiful, but kinda scary. I think most boys are scared of her.”