The C Word (Just a Word Book 1) (9 page)

“But you said
you’d take me home.”

“And I will.”

“It’s like
two miles.”

“So?”

“In the
opposite direction to the station.”

He shrugs

“You’re going
to walk me home?”

“Yeah.” He
grins, a lovely dimple forming on his left cheek.

“That’ll take
forever.”

“Got
somewhere you need to be City Boy?”

I start to
smile,
he did this on purpose to spend time with me. “Nope.”

He steps
aside and holds out his hand for me to go first. “Well then, lead the way.”

9

PURE BLOOD

“So how old
were you when you were adopted?” T asks after we have walked a few hundred
yards in silence.

“It was the
day I was born.” I tell him, immediately tense that he just dives right in, but
strangely not afraid to tell him all there is to know.

He nods; I
don’t think he knows what to say. I don’t want pity. Pity isn’t something I
usually have to deal with.

“I don’t
think of myself as adopted. I was rescued from a bad life by a family that
loves me.”

“Isn’t that
what adoption is?”

I shrug. “I
guess, I never really thought of it that way. My parents were meant to have a
child that was taken from them that day. My birth mother knew she couldn’t
protect me, so she gave me away to a family that could. A family that needed me
as much as I needed them. I have always been theirs.”

“What couldn’t
she protect you from?”

I swallow.
Looking at him as he walks along, with his eyes trained on the ground ahead of
him, I wonder how I’m going to have this conversation with someone I barely
know. But I trust him, it’s insane, but I do, so I just need to get over it.

He looks up
and sees me hesitating. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, it’s just—”

I stop and
take his hand. He looks down as I slip my fingers between his and then he looks
up and smiles.

“It’s okay.”
I assure him silently. It feels easier to talk
about this way somehow. Shit, what is happening to me?

He squeezes
my hand.
“I like this.”

“Me too. I think.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”
I frown, staring at our entwined fingers.
“This isn’t something I ever thought I’d
have, but weirdly, it’s not bad.”

“What? A bond?”

“Yeah.”

T chuckles.
“Uh oh! You’re a comittmentphobe aren’t you?”

“Not by choice exactly. I’ve just accepted my lot.”

T’s
expression changes to confusion.
“Your
lot?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s not like I can have a mate, so I never
thought I could have a bond with someone either. Actually, that’s not strictly
true, I have a bond with my father so he can help me keep control, but I keep
it closed, he doesn’t need my darkness in his head...”
I
trail off when I notice T has stopped and is looking at me like I’m speaking in
tongues.
“What?”

He runs his
fingers through his hair and opens his mouth to speak out loud. “Okay you’re
going to have to explain. You ‘can’t’ have a mate? Why exactly is that?”

“Well, you
know...” I start. Clearly he doesn’t know, from the look on his face, it’s like
he has no clue at all what I’m talking about. “Because of what I am.”
Because of what WE are
, I think to
myself. God I wish this was easier to talk about. When you keep something
locked down your entire life, it’s a big step opening up about it and to a
stranger no less. But this bond makes it different. I feel connected to him on
a level I can’t explain.

“Because you’re
gay?” He seems unable to fathom what the problem could be.

“No, not
because I’m gay and actually, I’m bi.”

“Good to
know.” He smirks. “But, go back a bit, why can’t you have a mate? What
darkness? And what does your dad have to help you control?”

“He doesn’t
really; I can control it by myself, mostly. Well, until you came along.” I find
myself rambling and look up to see T’s confusion only seems to have
intensified.

“You need to
slow down Max. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking
about what I am.”

“Pure blood,
so?”

I blow out a
long breath, relieved he said it, not me. “So, I need to keep it under control.”

“Because?”

“Because I
don’t want it to be who I am. I don’t want it to consume me.”

“Okay,” he
says slowly. He thinks for a long moment. “What was your mother protecting you
from?”

“My father.”

He waits,
expecting more.

I sigh. “You
really want to know?”

“Yes.” He
smiles.

The warmth of
his smile gives me courage and I feel ready for the first time to talk to
someone other than Valentina about my past. “How much do you want to know?”

He stops
walking for a moment. Squeezing my hand and looking straight into my eyes. “I
want to know all of you.”

I squeeze his
hand back. “Ok, but you’ll have to bear with me; I don’t usually talk about
this.”

His thumb
strokes the back of my hand for comfort and he waits patiently.

“I guess I’ll
just tell it like it was told to me. I hope you’ve got all night.”

“I have at
least two miles, City Boy.”

Okay.” I take
a deep breath. “A woman came to the bank one day. She had wanted to open a safe
deposit box, she was human as far as the clerk could tell, but had asked for my
father by name. He was intrigued as to why a human was asking for him.

“Anyway, Dad
agreed to speak to the woman and left his office
to
 
find
her. She was waiting for him
in the lobby and as he always tells me, when he came down the stairs, she took
his breath away.” I smile. I know he always makes a point of how beautiful she
was to enforce her good spirit in my mind’s eye. I love him for that because it
works. When I try to imagine her, he has almost turned her into a deity in my
mind.

“She was
pretty?”

“Beautiful,
so he says. He knew right away why the young, inexperienced clerk had read her
wrong. A shifter of her calibre can appear as whatever they see fit, so he had
no way of knowing. But she revealed the truth of what she was to my father as
their eyes met and then she immediately closed it down again.”

“Mali?”

I nod,
regretfully and receive another encouraging hand squeeze. “I hate that word,” I
whisper.

“It’s just a
word.”

Nodding, I
continue. “She was afraid, he could feel the fear before his foot even hit the
lobby floor. He was cautious, but she had come to him for a reason and he
intended to help her if he could, that’s just his way.”

“He is a kind
man.”

I look at T,
puzzled. “You know him?”

“I know of
him. Your bank and your family name are well known. It’s not only your
financial services that you are known for. The bank is something of a safe
haven for our kind and not just our kind, many kinds. The ‘others’ of this
world.”

I smile,
feeling proud of what he and his father before him have achieved. “That’s what
we strive for.”

“It’s an
incredible thing, when so many of the packs are in conflict, to establish such
neutral trust. It’s important to have trusted institutions like McQueen’s.”

 
“My father doesn’t discriminate, everyone
needs a place of refuge some time. He helps anyone in need.”

“My parents
put money in trust there for my future, because of your Bank’s reputation.”

Our
reputation is everything. We keep treasures and secrets safe, but it’s my
father’s leadership that people respect. My chest tightens at the thought of
that responsibility one day falling on my shoulders. I have lived every day of
my life preparing for the opportunity; I only hope I can live up to the trust
placed in me. Because that oppressively hot day my mother came, was not the
first time that we were called upon as a last hope of safety, nor will it be
the last.

“So what
happened?” T asks, urging me on.

“He invited
her into a conference room to hear what she had to say. Not only was she a pure
blood, but she was also heavily pregnant. Even closed off as she was, he knew
that she was a not typical pure blood.” Few pure blood packs remained by then
and those that he knew of were not good news. Violence and destruction seemed
to be the key traits of theses shady creatures. Enmity, malevolence, call it
what you like, they are hostile beings and they live in an underworld far from
the normality of this life. She was not like them. He felt only warmth from her,
and while she could easily destroy his beautiful bank or maim his employees,
she chose not to.

“And what is
a typical pure blood?” T asks, the challenge is clear. He is one after all and
is obviously all about challenging the misconceptions of his people.

“You know
what I mean. Centuries of feuding has transformed the packs. They’re breeding
for power and aggression; it’s in their blood and in their nature. Their
strength is overwhelming and their instinct is to fight.”

“All of them?”

“No I guess
not all.” I blow out a breath, trying to stick to the story, rather than
analysing my prejudices. “This woman had kindness in her soul; my father felt
it and it interested him. His dealings with pure bloods had been swift and few;
they generally did not need his protection. He wanted to hear this woman out.”

“She
challenged his idea of pure bloods and he wanted to know more?”

 
“Yes.” I know he is pushing for me to
admit that not all of us are like I imagine, but I can’t, so I continue. “She
thanked him for seeing her and acknowledged that he was showing a great deal of
trust in not turning her away. She wanted to keep safe some bonds and one or
two trinkets for her unborn child, but she needed to be certain that the box
would be kept safe from anyone who might wish to know its secrets. She
apologised for bringing this fight to his door, but she knew he was the only
one she could hope would be able to help her.

“She wanted
his reassurance that when her child came of age, this box would be opened to
him or her, and that they would be sought out if necessary to ensure they
receive it. She knew she was asking him to invite, or seek out a potentially
threatening force in the future and she would understand if he refused, but she
was desperate. She felt sure no other alpha could hope to take on this
responsibility and that she couldn’t turn to her own kind.”

T stays
silent waiting for me to carry on.

“She had a
strength that was unusual, even for a pure blood. Dad could feel it.”

“Because she
was good,” T says quietly.

I nod. “That’s
what I’ve heard.”

“It’s true.
Those of us who are not consumed with hostility are the ones with the greatest
strength. That rage and urge to fight, dilutes the potency of abilities and
those who can overcome it can channel immense power.”

“She was one
of the rare few. The special ones.”

T shakes his
head. “Not rare, Max. Just less vocal.”

I frown at
him.

“I know you
think you have it all worked out City Boy, but you’ve been raised by wolves,
you don’t know the half of it.”

“Raised by
wolves!” I laugh. “You make it sound like I’ve been dragged up by a primitive
species.”

“Haven’t you?”

“Holy shit!
You actually think that?”

T laughs. “No
worse than you thinking all of us are evil, is it?”

“Touche.”

“But honestly
though, shifters who can assume one animal form, wolves for example, aren’t in
the same league as us. Pure bloods can shift to a number of different things
and the ‘special few’ as you see them have almost no limits to what their power
can do.”

“Like you?” I
ask nervously.

He shrugs,
not divulging more.

“Do they have powers like this? The special few?”
I
ask him through the strange bond we share, shocking myself again that I’m
growing more comfortable with using it.

“Let’s lift up one rock at a time shall we, City Boy? This one is for
another day.”
He offers a tight smile and I know I shouldn’t
press. “So carry on, she came to your dad for help, what was her story?”

“She had
fallen prey to a strong alpha in a moment of weakness, who had claimed her as
his mate. He wanted her to give him her strength in his heirs.”

“That never
works.” T shakes his head.

“That’s what
I was told too. She explained to my father that her alpha did not understand
that it could only be possible to give them her strength if they were raised
and nurtured in good. She had hoped to be able to provide that for her child
despite her mate’s propensity for the opposite, but it now seemed impossible to
imagine. He wanted warriors, not family. So she had escaped and hoped to hide
from her mate long enough to instil some good in the child before he was lost
to his father’s nature.”

T nods, in
understanding.

“Dad took
pity on her and agreed that no matter what, he would find her child and see to
it that they received what was theirs, when the time came. He also insisted
that she come with him back to the estate as she had nowhere to go and was due
any day. She did try to decline, but fatigued from the stifling heat, she found
it difficult to refuse his kindness. She warned him that once labour started,
she would be unable to conceal her powers and she could be more easily tracked
by her mate. But he argued that alone she stood no chance of staying hidden and
keeping her baby from it’s fate, but in the protection of his pack, perhaps she
had a hope. Eventually she relented and was brought to the estate and welcomed
by my mother, who was also due to give birth any time.”