Vaewolf: Damn the Darkness: The Prophecy's Promise (Hearts of Darkness Book 3) (18 page)

“Maybe not completely. Not yet, anyway. She wasn’t around me long enough to imprint fully or realize what was happening to her.” Jackson was all for sticking his head in the sand, thinking to settle this argument with Dylan, at least, temporarily.

“It doesn’t matter. I saw her face, felt her damn need for you. Geezus, she’s a psychic, Jackson. You don’t think she’s getting this? We’ve exchanged blood twice already. I have to leave here. We can’t risk a third time under the circumstances.”

Alternative solutions streamed through Jackson’s mind. He paced to burn off the wolf’s energy rising within him. “There has to be another way to make this right. Lycans share their females even if they’re bonded to one in particular. And you and I are as close as brothers. “

“Are you suggesting we share her? Don’t go there.” Dylan spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t you have enough of your father’s blood running through your veins to realize vamps don’t share life mates?”

“Even us?” It was a stretch—a desperate hope. “Maybe we could.”

Part of Jackson was okay with the idea of sharing Caitlin with Dylan—she’d been his first. Another part grew fiercely possessive at the thought of anyone else being with her. The vampire in him thought like Dylan—no sharing a life mate. Except, when he thought about Dylan.

A rumble of anger rolled off his chest. Rage welled up inside him thinking about giving her up. Sharing her was the only solution, yet his vampire and Dylan’s would never come to terms with the concept.

“So what’s your solution, Dylan?”

“I could kill you.” Dylan’s voice and expression were flat.

The deadpan comment made Jackson stop pacing and turn. He stared at the vampire who’d cared for him since he was fifteen. Dylan’s eyes flashed red, his fangs lengthened. He just might be capable of killing him in spite of the consequences. And there were too many to contemplate.

Disappointment wedged in his heart, surprised to see how serious Dylan was. In his gut, he suspected Dylan was right. He could kill him. But would he?

Maybe.

If either of them completed the bond with Caitlin, they’d kill each other rather than share her.

Jackson held on to hope, unwilling to let Dylan’s anger break his control, and in a low calm voice, he said, “Or I you.”

Ah, but the possibility was one he didn’t want to contemplate, now or ever. Fighting Dylan
.
The idea made his chest tight. They’d meet as men to face each other down, then instinct would take over rational thought, and either, he’d have to kill Dylan, or die trying. A fight between them would be like two loving brothers fighting one another to the death.

“Forget I said that.” The red vampire light in his eyes dimmed as he turned to face Jackson and shook off the menacing attitude.

“Done. I couldn’t hurt you, either, not on purpose.” Jackson glanced quickly away then back, shaking his head and running his hand across his chin.

“No? Perhaps not. Not on purpose.” Dylan’s gaze softened. “I’d never intentionally harm you, either. But when our bond lust takes over, we won’t be coherent enough to make those decisions.”

“Although our separate societal worlds may not see the relationship between our genetic or biological connection, at least we do. I feel a greater bond with you Dylan than with anyone else.”

“And I haven’t helped raise you this long, nor have we been this close, not to have established a code of conduct between us. So, although our code made this dual bond harder on us, in a way, our honor will make it easier. Neither of us will
claim
Caitlin and hurt the other until we fully understand how to make this work.”

“We have to make this work, Dylan.”

“Don’t bet your life on it. When vampire mates bond, it usually means exclusivity for eternity. We’re as different from the Lycans as our hierarchy customs are from the pack council’s.”

“Werewolves get it, the idea of sharing. Even if they don’t approve, it’s sometimes necessary. They’ve had to adjust in order to procreate.”

“You’re half vamp, and vamps don’t get it. You willing to bet our lives on your wolf? I don’t want to take a chance. We can’t risk you.”

To the pack he was alpha, the future leader of the Lycan society. To the vampires, he was the one who had to survive. “Right. How could I forget?” Jackson spit out his words. “I’m the hope and salvation of the vampire nation.”

“You are. Take it seriously, Jackson. I do. And not because of the vow I made to your father.”

“My father’s not here.” Almost fifteen years ago, Dylan became his mother and his father—his family when his mother died in childbirth.

“That’s of no consequence. You’re the reason I live, so to speak.”

“Dylan, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a big boy, now. You’ve fulfilled your obligation. Consider us even.”

“No, pup. The obligation will be fulfilled when Niccolai deems it so.” Dylan’s fangs hadn’t retracted. His anger and turmoil were still close to the surface because his eyes flashed red again.

“This thing between Caitlin and me... Does it have something to do with the prophecy?”

“Bright lad, good guess.” Dylan said. “But what exactly? I wish I knew.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his face as was his habit when he was concerned, but shorter pieces escaped.

Jackson dug in his pocket and when he handed him a leather tie for his hair, Dylan looked surprised. The vampire took it with a short nod. After he twisted his hair out of his face and into a tight knot at the base of his neck, he looked less intimidating. With his hair wild and his shirt askew, he looked too much like the ancient berserker he’d once been. Three hundred years may have civilized the man, but the wildness within him was ready to emerge at the least provocation.

Dylan’s eyes dimmed, and he unclenched his jaw. “You’re the first natural born vampire in over a thousand years. Everyone is counting on you. You’re the hope for the future survival of the species. Made vampires need born vampire blood to keep from aging. Our strength also depends on the blood from born vampires. You’re aware of what happens to those of us who were made if we don’t have access to ancient blood every hundred years or so.”

“Right.” They aged and eventually turned rogue. He’d heard all the reasons everyone treated him like the vampire messiah. “I’m a damned miracle, the holy grail of the vampire world. Yeah? Well, try telling yourself that while I’m fucking your life mate.”

The hurtful words spilled out of his mouth before the thought took hold. Knowing damn well, the image would shake Dylan from his reasonable attitude, Jackson shifted and ran. The change took place in the blink of an eye, an ability only the oldest Lycans had mastered, leaving Dylan behind, sucking in air.

“Fuck! Jackson...I’m not ready to give up on you.”

...or us and the promise of Caitlin.

~~~~

“It is true then? Your life mate is his wolf’s mate?” Garr stood still in the dark, his pale eyes flashing gold when Dylan turned to him.

“Aye.”

Garr stepped in front of Dylan and tilted his head. “For you it is a big problem,
non, mon ami
?”

“Yes, a very big problem.”

“What game does Fate play with you, vampire?”

“The worst sort, Wulfgar.” Dylan’s sarcastic chuckle rang flat because, deep in his heart, he suspected Fate wasn’t at fault. “Go my friend. Take care of him until I call for you.”

“He has a powerful mad on. But his wolf, he’ll be back to watch over his mate when the time comes.”

“Good, she’ll need help adjusting while I’m gone. Isobel’s been teaching her more about our world, but Jackson will have to feed and protect her while I’m gone. Besides the demons, other species who need mates are beginning to search for psychics. Someone killed her once, and being who she is, if she finds out about the search for her kind, she’ll want to help the mortal psychics in danger.”

“Don’t worry yourself. The pack wolves will guard the bayou from the demons. Isobel, she knows how to reach me if she has a need.” A quick flash of pain entered Garr’s eyes. There was no mistaking the regret in his voice.

“Can you deal with your feelings for her during this?”

“We have an understanding...between us.” The man’s face went dark and Dylan felt him close off his mind. Any chance of finding out how he felt about being rejected by Isobel because she couldn’t bear him pups was a dead end. He turned and stared Dylan down. “Make no mistake, Isobel will guard your woman when the wolves cannot.”

“Watch over her, Garr. Watch over all of them. And make sure Jackson comes back to feed and...care for her when I leave. Caitlin will be in need soon.”

“You want Isobel to explain? Better coming from a woman I think.”

“Aye, better. Shelby can help, too.” There was no way Dylan wanted to get into the details of the
calling
and the female
needing
with Caitlin. Garr was right. That information was better discussed between females.

“When the time comes, send Jackson to her, but make sure he waits until after I’m gone.”

Surely after, because this was hard enough for Dylan to do knowing the inevitable outcome. It would be impossible—deadly—for him to consider being anywhere within a thousand miles once Jackson started
claiming
her. And
claim
her he would. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

“You make your plans,
mon ami
. Find your answers. I will keep them both safe until your return.”

Dylan rested a hand on the big Lycan’s muscular shoulder. Garr hadn’t aged in all the years he’d known him. He looked like a fit male shy of forty over twenty-five years ago, and he still did—a handsome, rugged human still in his prime, but nevertheless, he was a wolf shifter heading into some of his most prolific years.

“Thank you, old friend. When I go, I’ll go with an easy mind.”

Chapter Twenty Four

Dylan Explains

Caitlin stared into the forest from the porch after Dylan forced up mental barriers and kept her blocked from his mind. Every agonizing minute waiting for his return seemed like an hour, and what seemed like eons later couldn’t have been more than twenty or thirty minutes in reality, before a hard flicker from his thoughts intruded on her own.

She sensed him long before she saw him returning along the same path where he’d disappeared. With the opportunity presented to her, she was afraid to ask those questions burning in her mind. Why? Too afraid of the answers.

Suddenly speechless, she didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Talking about what happened seemed way too personal. Awkward. Her own embarrassment and pain was enough. She dreaded seeing the utter disappointment and hurt in Dylan’s eyes, knowing she put it there.

Without acknowledging him, she stared out at the lighted water garden while she played with her moonstone. Finally, she dredged up the courage to speak. “What happened?”

“He ran.” Dylan’s voice sounded as rough as broken glass.

“I saw
that.
” With a quick glance in his direction, she tried to meet his eyes then turned away.

He paused at the bottom of the steps in silence, coldly patient. Self-righteous indignation flared within her. She had a right to be irritated at this whole situation. It seemed as if everyone except her knew what was going on.

“You left me to follow him. I mean, what happened when you went after him? Did you find him?” Caitlin impatiently rocked, waiting for answers, her anxiety beating at her.

“He ran again.”

From her sideways glance, she noticed Dylan responded with a familiar Gaelic shrug. He’d been around the bayou so long he’d assumed some of the local mannerisms.

She released a sigh and stood up before meeting him eye to eye.

“Is he all right?” She hoped he’d answer her simple question honestly, or at least allow his expression to reveal more than his words had so far. When he provided neither after a brief pause, she added, “Are you?”

Dylan’s worried gray eyes said what he didn’t, and his pain had her aching for both men.

“No.” He finally said and seemed surprised with his answer, but she sensed the honesty he wouldn’t have wanted to divulge if he’d had time to think it through.

“Just
no
?” The simple frank answer said more than she expected, more than she got from the light feathery touch of his thoughts.

She felt him search her emotions but bristled when he only allowed the mental contact to be one sided. If he wouldn’t open his mind to her, she wasn’t giving him anything either. His arrogance annoyed her.

“Dylan, don’t shut me out. For a psychic, it’s like being deaf and blind.”

Had she ever felt this isolated before? Years of dependence on her gift, made her wonder if she could function in this sort of void. Having to depend on what he was willing to tell her would mean she’d get little or nothing from him. How much of what he was willing to say was in fact truth, or were there things he would hide from her?