I pulled my lip between my teeth. Was this about the baby? I’d
told him…well, evil-psycho-bitch Ella had told him.
“Isn’t there a rule that says you can’t propose like that?”
“Fuck the rules. I want you to be my wife.”
“Wife.” I marveled at the word, its meaning. A different
kind of bond between people, one forged by love—by choice and sometimes out of
obligation. I needed to know which. “Does this have anything to do with the
baby I’m carrying?”
Micah went absolutely still and his skin paled. The rhythm
of his heart quadrupled. Several long seconds passed before he managed to form
words.
“Baby?”
His fingers twitched against me before he trailed his palm
to my stomach, to where our child grew. As if it sensed his touch, the tiny
life flared, the faint echo of his crazy-fast heartbeat increasing.
He looked up from where his hand, large enough to span my
entire stomach, rested to my eyes. Awe replaced the shock. “I didn’t believe
her. I thought she was just fucking with me, saying the absolute worst thing
she could to win.”
She. He’d separated me into two people.
“I’m terrified, Micah,” I admitted.
What if I fuck up
this kid’s life?
The prophecy was vague. The Demon Son would bring mayhem
and destruction. But did that have to be bad? Evil Ella seemed to think so. Me,
I was a bit more hopeful. Perhaps a part of me was still naïve.
Micah swept his thumb over my lower lip. “I’d be lying if I
told you I wasn’t scared shitless too. But I’m also excited. It won’t be easy
and we’ll make mistakes, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure.”
I curled into him and rested my head on his chest. He
scratched his fingers up and down my back, drawing a purr from my throat.
“I’ve got a great example of how not to be a father. I
refuse to fuck up this kid’s life, and that—I think it’s enough.”
“I don’t think we should tell anyone,” I said.
“We’ll wait, see a doctor or some shit.” Micah kissed the
top of my head and rolled over me, reaching for something on the floor.
“Ugh,” I protested, slapping his finely crafted ass. “You’re
squishing me.”
“Get over it,” he grumbled.
Micah reversed his direction, rolling off me, and I sucked
in a breath now that I could breathe.
“Here.” He set a small, dark wooden box between my breasts.
I stared at it, my eyes crossing when I tried to focus on
it.
“What is it?” I alternated my gaze between my present and
Micah, my curiosity mounting by the second.
“The reason I wasn’t here when you woke up. Hours, I sat by your
bedside, held your hand—nothing. I even pissed in a bottle because I didn’t
want to leave you.”
Now that was romantic. I stroked the smooth, satin-like top
of the box reverently, as if it held all the secrets of the universe in it. He’d
never given me a present before. “What’s in it?”
“Just open the damn thing.”
I sat up and caught the box as it tumbled down my stomach. I
lifted the lid, the creaking hinges sending a tingle down my spine. I stared,
completely dumbfounded at the ring within.
I didn’t know much—okay, anything—about jewelry, but
this…this was something special. The band was brimstone, the squared gems
artfully arranged to stagger onyx and diamond.
I lifted my gaze to Micah’s. “Where did you get this?”
“Derrik, my father, wanted to give it to my mother. Castro’s
been holding on to it. When he went to retrieve the files, he got it for me.
Thought I might want it. He gave me this long speech about how to propose—while
I was inside you was the number one way I shouldn’t do it, by the way.”
Heat surged through me and as if someone—aka the baby—tugged
on my emotions, tears filled my eyes. I didn’t know if I could last however
many months chicks pregnant with demons stayed knocked up if I was destined to
cry at the drop of a hat. This crap could get annoying real fast.
“I can’t take this.” I snapped the box closed, felt a pang
of regret in my chest and handed it back to him.
“Bullshit.” Micah removed the ring from its case and tossed
the box.
He grabbed my hand and slid it on my finger. The jewelry was
heavier than I would have guessed, something I’d have to get used to. I stared
at the sparkling diamond, forced myself to stop looking at it like an idiot.
“You like it?” he asked cautiously.
“Like?” I shook my head and threw my arms around his neck. I
crushed our bodies together in a rare, totally uncharacteristic show of pure
girlish delight I’d spend the rest of my life denying and most likely taking
crap from Micah about. “I love it and if you try to take it from me, I’ll cut
off your hand.”
Micah’s low, rumbling laugh lifted the corner of my mouth in
a smile. “There’s my girl. For a moment I was worried you’d start squealing and
jumping up and down.”
No need to tell him I might have done that in my head.
A wariness that pissed me off filled the limo and made the
roomy interior feel like a coffin with too many corpses packed in. I glared at
Eli, then Dante, where they sandwiched Hannah between them as if Ella was going
to reach across the seat and snap her neck. Their rigid posture and pinched
faces made me think they’d all shoved sticks up their asses before leaving
Julian’s mansion.
Ella’s sister, who hadn’t earned a free pass from my
annoyance, chewed on her thumbnail. She’d been staring out the side window for
the better part of an hour so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone—specifically
Ella. She bounced her leg up and down in quick jerky movements. I was seconds
from slapping a hand on her thigh and yelling at her to stop.
Shame the fuck on them. They should know better—realize and
accept that Ella wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Oh, we’d gone through the heartfelt apologies back at Julian’s
mansion. We’d had the tears and the pansy-ass hugging that Ella took like a
champ, but it hadn’t been enough. Not for Hannah, who would never forget every
single word Ella had said to her. Not for my brother, who’d gotten a thorough
mind fuck. Not for Dante, whose balls had been handed to him on a silver
platter, leaving the pussycat emasculated. I half expected him to whip out his
dick, just to show everyone it was still there and no doubt massive.
The only person who didn’t treat Ella any different was Roy.
He travelled in the limo behind us with my mother. If I could have stomached
the thought of being away from Ella, I would have forced her in the car with
him so she didn’t have to deal with this shit.
Wasn’t stress bad for babies or some crap? She’d
acknowledged her actions, accepted they were forever a part of her, and
realized she would have to deal with the struggle. My brother had better get
his shit together and stop looking at my girl as if he was about to pull a gun
on her.
My feral side surged to the surface with violent intent, the
demon even more volatile where our girl was concerned. She carried our child.
Anything that affected Ella, touched her, made her sad or hurt her was
unacceptable.
Beside me, Ella might have appeared unaffected by the silent
judgment and fear radiating by our family, but I knew better. She sat straight
with her chin tilted up. There was a stiffness to her body that shouldn’t have
been there considering I stroked my hand up and down her back in the way I knew
she liked. Under my touch she was supposed to preen and melt, go all soft sex
kitten. Wasn’t happening, not even close.
So I sat and I stewed, affected by the emotions around me.
Trapped under the oppressive fabric of the black three-piece suit I’d been
talked into wearing, the heat radiating from me quadrupled. Sweat beaded on my
flesh and the fire brimming under the surface boiled it into steam that crawled
over my skin. I now understood why smoke curled from beneath Castro’s tailored
clothing, and I wondered if that was my fate.
The miles of highway stretched on in silence. I hooked an
arm around Ella’s shoulders and pulled her into me. Head on my chest, she
rolled her gaze to mine. I thumbed her lower lip, remembered tasting her,
kissing her, making her cry out.
“You okay?” I asked.
She shrugged and nestled in closer, allowing the small
comfort. I bent and trailed my lips over the shell of her ear. I pitched my
voice low, for her ears only—if such a thing existed in a car with two shape shifters.
“Maybe you should place an order of ‘I’m sorry I was such an evil blood-sucking
bitch’ coffee mugs?”
A small laugh left her throat, the sound easing my anger. “I
don’t think that’s going to cut it. Not this time. They just need time to get
over it. I’m okay with that.”
For some reason, I didn’t believe her.
We pulled to a stop in front of an unmarked warehouse in the
middle of nowhere. Unless you were intent on vandalism, a normal person would
keep driving. I kissed the top of Ella’s head and stared out the darkly tinted
windows. There was dirt, more dirt and some more dirt on top of that. Without
the city lights, stars twinkled against the black backdrop. I’d grown up here,
played tag with Eli on these grounds, set up cans to use as target practice
when I hadn’t been able to stand being trapped in the confines of the Agency Headquarters
any longer.
Cameras winked at me, the glint of their lenses barely
visible where they were camouflaged as well-placed rocks. If I didn’t know
exactly where to look, I might not have spotted them. I got out of the limo and
scanned the barren desert, looking for any type of a threat before I tugged on
Ella’s hand and helped her out of the backseat.
This was it—do or die. By die, I meant anyone who would fuck
with me or mine.
The cold night air swept over me, a frigid caress across my
overheated skin. Anticipation filled me, a sense of justice about to come to
fruition. Richard was going down. Death would have been too quick when I could
systematically remove what mattered most to him—power. Humiliation was a much
greater punishment.
At our approach, a dented metal door rolled open, revealing
an empty warehouse with clean, dull concrete. With each step, Ella’s high heels
sank into the layer of finely pulverized copper sand. She’d bitched about the
shoes and her outfit, but I didn’t know why. She looked kickass and sexy.
Sophisticated. Every inch the Vampire Queen she’d accepted about herself. Sure,
shit still needed settling—the Fenrir primarily. We’d decided to tackle one
problem at a time and Eiven, with his blood fetish, would have to wait.
Ella’s black knee-length skirt and matching heels gave her
height and made me think about her legs wrapped around my waist while I pounded
into her. As we crossed the open area to the agency’s entrance, she smoothed a
hand down the wrinkle-free black blazer that hung open, revealing a simple
blouse the same shade as the jacket. The shirt was partially unbuttoned and
showed a hint of cleavage I really wanted to bury my face in. I’d gotten a
glimpse of the lacy bra she’d shoved her tits into and was looking forward to
running my tongue across the scalloped trim.
The brief taste of her I’d gotten earlier wasn’t nearly
enough to sate me. I could make love to her five times a day and it still
wouldn’t be enough. Without the bond between us, every touch, every kiss, every
fucking stroke had a deeper meaning. Instincts demanded I claim her, but I wasn’t
going to force Ella into that again. The demon part of me—still smug and
satisfied at the thought of implanting its seed—wasn’t pressing the issue. Yet.
Ella looked up at me and narrowed her eyes. Whoops. Maybe I’d
projected that last thought a little too clearly. I gave her a wicked grin and
flicked my tongue across my bottom lip, recalling the taste of her skin. “You
know,” I said softly, “all you need are some glasses, your hair twisted into a
bun and we can play out the librarian fantasy I’ve had since Miss Scott in the
seventh grade. I think you dropped something on the ground, Miss Grey, why don’t
you bend over and pick it up for me.”
She rolled her eyes and flipped me her middle finger,
showing me exactly what she thought of my proposition to role-play. With a
chuckle, I pulled our clasped hands to my lips, kissing her knuckles as we
walked inside and into the simple, unmarked elevator at the back of the
warehouse. The doors dinged open before I’d even pressed the button. Inside the
cab was sleek and silver, a direct contrast to its exterior surroundings. There
was no music, no sound except the whirring of the motor as the elevator
descended.
When we stopped, the doors opened to a pure-white room.
People dressed in white robes—a symbol of their so-called ‘purity’, fucking
hypocrites—roamed the halls, looking up from their conversations to stare at
Ella and me.
I glared until they looked away. A tiny woman who had to be
a good three inches shorter than Ella in her bare feet moved out from behind a
horseshoe-shaped desk and met us in the hall. She swept a judgmental glare over
first Ella, then me.
In a sea of white, we stuck out like black sheep. If I hadn’t
known better, I would have said we were going to a funeral—not this sham of a
trial. If things went badly, I’d make damn sure it wasn’t our memorial service.
“Ms. Grey, we’ve been expecting you.” The receptionist,
whose name I didn’t know, spoke to us in clear disapproval. “You were to arrive
with your guardian, Roy Grey.”
A small grin touched Ella’s lips and she leaned forward,
into the other’s face, forcing her to back up a step. “He’s coming.”
Knowing the way, I pulled on Ella’s hand and went to the
left, passed the desk where the hallway curved in the shape of a crescent. The
receptionist scuttled behind us, her shoes a rapid click, click, click over
white and gold-flecked granite.
“You can’t just go wherever you want! You’re supposed to
wait for a member of the council to come get you. There is protocol,” she
called after us.
I glanced over my shoulder. “The council and its protocol
can go fuck themselves. We’re here and we’re doing this now.”
The woman stopped following after us, the act of her mouth
fishing open and closed using up all her strength.
We left her standing in the middle of the hall while I
steered Ella to the agency’s version of a courtroom. The same place I’d gotten
my first blowjob. Richard had ruined that experience when he’d walked in. He’d
beaten the shit out of me when we’d gotten home for my “utter lack of respect”
but it had so been worth it.
I pushed on the tall black door and entered the round room.
The five men seated at the U-shaped table looked up at my approach. I knew them
each by name, one was even my great-uncle, not that I’d ever called him
anything other than Cornelius.
Richard sat in the center, on a raised chair to set him
apart from his peers. Like the others, he was dressed in a set of white
robes—the black and gold sash dangling down his chest marked him as the leader.
The sight of it rubbed me the absolute wrong way. What a hypocritical asshole.
I wanted to take his special cord and strangle him with it. The subtle way Ella
balled her fists at her side told me she was thinking something similar.
Richard locked his beady eyes on me and curled his lip in a
condescending sneer before shifting his gaze to Ella. He looked her up and
down, the animosity written plainly on his face much better than the sexual
look that would have earned him a punch in the face.
Even though the bond no longer connected Ella and me, we had
something stronger. Less pansy than love, more real than a soul-deep
connection. I was attuned to her. When she reached out with her power, it swept
over my skin and I followed its path, curious.
She touched Richard’s mind, a very deliberate, controlled
attack. Her voice drifted through my head even though her words were meant for
him.
Boo.
His nostrils flared in response, a physical reaction that
had me suppressing my amusement. Fuck, I loved her. Richard’s fear and hatred
scented the air with a sharp, foul odor that had my predator inching closer to
the surface. I don’t think he’d expected us to show up. The asshole was in for
a world of hurt.
“Let the record show,” Richard’s voice echoed off the shiny
black walls, “Ms. Grey has disregarded proper protocol and,” he glared at me as
if I was worse than the shit on the bottom of his shoe, “brought an
unauthorized guest. You will both need to wait outside until we’re ready to
begin.”
Ella squared her shoulders. “No.”
My distant uncle, Cornelius Reynard the Fourth, blinked at
her. His full face and long white beard made him look a little like Santa
Claus. “What do you mean, no?”
“You heard me. I’ve got things to do tonight.” She glanced
at Richard and grinned, exposing her fangs—a silent threat.
The four old men whose ancestors had helped found the agency
blustered. I knew for a fact they’d never stepped foot outside of their
politics to get their hands dirty. These men who would try to decide Ella’s or
anyone else’s fate disgusted me. They had no idea what it was like outside of
their protected walls.
Ella pulled a rolled scroll from the back of her skirt and
threw it to the ground, showing them exactly how she felt about this
charade—all of this was a waste of time she didn’t really give a crap about.
The parchment unrolled, showing golden glints of ink.
She clasped her hands in front of her and looked each one of
them in the eye as we’d rehearsed. We wanted to make sure everyone was damn
clear on what the stakes were. “I’m being charged with biting a human. A direct
violation of the oath I swore in this room seven years ago.”
The man next to Richard, Leon, flipped open a folder and
looked up at me as if he’d just read my name. “That is correct.” He cleared his
throat. “Mr. McGregor, who you’ve brought with you, was admitted to the
hospital for blood loss. We’ve got the records here, including pictures.”
“Right,” I said deciding to intervene. “I’m not human. I’m a
demon.” Straightforward, no bullshit. I shoved my conviction into my words,
letting them taste the truth behind them.
The men—sans Richard—sputtered, dropping their guards enough
to forget I’d been excommunicated and therefore removed from existence in their
eyes. It was Cornelius who spoke first, “Micah—”
“Save it,” I growled, never removing my gaze from Richard’s
hostile one.
As if Ella commanded it, which I’ll admit would have been
really badass, the door opened, spilling light into the dim chamber.
Roy walked in, Hannah on one side, Eli on the other,
assuring he wouldn’t fall. Our hospital break hadn’t done much to speed his
recovery time. Behind them trailed four of the more lucid women we’d rescued.
Finally, taking up the rear was Dante, his untamed mane of hair making him look
every inch the animal he was. On his arm was my mother, a tiny slip of a thing
compared to his mass.