“I don’t want you to lose the seed, my love. I worked too hard to plant it,” he said, his voice shaking with laughter.
She bit him on the cheek of his ass.
“Mmm,” he purred, his voice more shaky than before. “Now the other side.”
She popped his ass instead. “The blood’s rushing to my head! I’ll have an aneurism!”
He was laughing when he dragged her back over his shoulder and bent down to set her on the ground. She swayed dizzily, lifting a hand to her head and he swept her into his arms again. “You’re dripping come, my love. I’ll have to find something to plug the hole.”
“Oh, you’re so very humorous!”
“But, it’s golden seed, sweetheart! The seed of a Raja. It can’t be squandered!”
“I’m surprised you were willing to share it,” Bronwyn said dryly.
“Oh, I don’t mind sharing it with you. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to re-seed it once we get back to the room.”
She hadn’t thought he could possibly be serious, but he proved her wrong. As soon as they entered the room, he strode to the bed, tossed her onto it and proceeded to
‘fill her up again’. She was so wobbly kneed by the time he’d finished, she had to brace her legs to hold herself up while she bathed.
“Shall I massage you, my little butterfly?” Caleb murmured in a rumbling growl.
“Sustenance!” Bronwyn begged weakly.
He sighed regretfully, but he allowed her to dry off and dress and joined her for breakfast—which was hot since Yancy had undoubtedly been in to replace the cold food while Caleb was ‘helping’ her bathe. He kissed the top of her head cheerfully when they’d finished and strode from the room. She didn’t see him again for the rest of the day or even that night. She’d begun to think he’d completely forgotten she was there. She suspected he had. The following morning when she decided to make another bid for freedom, however, he abruptly appeared in lion form once more and chased her all over creation, tumbling her to the ground when she’d exhausted herself and nearly fucking her unconscious—after licking her until she was screaming.
“Ahh! Isn’t this fun?” he murmured lazily when he’d curled around her and settled to rest in the dappled sun.
“Oh! The best!” Bronwyn agreed weakly, too tired to muster the energy for sarcasm.
“If I’d known I could have this much enjoyment of a mate I might have considered it before,” he said thoughtfully.
She looked at him surprise. “You haven’t mated before?”
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He frowned thoughtfully. “Oh yes! I’d forgotten. Once or twice, I’m sure.”
She sent him a sour look. “I thought you said you hadn’t done it before.”
He grunted, bending his arm to prop his head in his hand. “It’s a bit different with the Raja, dearest. We’re somewhat … territorial in nature.”
“No!” Bronwyn exclaimed sarcastically. “Really?”
He sent her a glittering look. “Yes, actually,” he murmured. “We tend to be solitary creatures and I must say I prefer it, but then I haven’t had any … uh … one to play with in a while.”
And he needed to tell her that he was playing with her? She’d felt like a mouse caught in a trap with a cat almost from the moment she’d arrived.
Not
that it hadn’t had its highlights! It scared the pure piss out of her when he decided to play chase, though. She couldn’t help it. Even knowing, now, that it was him in lion form, seeing anything that big and ferocious bounding after her made her instincts for self-preservation kick in. Fortunately, he seemed to enjoy it so hugely, he didn’t take it badly that she actually
was
trying to escape.
Or maybe he just didn’t realize she was?
She discarded that. He was too intelligent not to realize it and, contrary to what she’d first thought, he wasn’t crazy either.
He just had a cat-like sense of humor, which meant he thoroughly enjoyed toying with her whatever the situation.
“So … usually you mate and move on?”
“Actually, the females mate and move on. When they’re ready, they look for a male, stay long enough to make certain the seed has taken, and then return to their own territory.”
Bronwyn frowned. “So you don’t know if you have children?”
“I’m quite certain I must. As I said, I’ve bred once or twice—mayhap three or four times. I forget.”
“You don’t … ever get lonely?”
He looked surprised, but he thought it over. “I don’t think so.”
Bronwyn nodded and sat up, brushing at the grass and leaves clinging to her.
“So,” she muttered, digging in the dirt with her toes, “when you’re sure that you’ve bred me, I’ll be free to go?”
He sighed heavily. “It slips my mind that you aren’t Raja.”
She glanced around at him. “It does?”
“Actually, no, but it slips my mind that humans are so different—mostly because I’ve never paid a great deal of attention to them. You came to breed, did you not?”
Bronwyn sent him a startled look and felt her face reddening. “I suppose.” She considered elaborating and finally took the plunge. “I’m sure it wasn’t meant to be you, though. Nanna said I’d find a man to love me. And it would be
his
children I’d bear.”
Caleb sat up. “The prophesy of the Raja states that a woman will come who will bear fruit of the Raja and bring into the world a Raja more powerful than any before.”
Bronwyn frowned. “It’s says ‘woman’? Not another Raja?”
“Rajaeem—no,” he corrected her. “It clearly says a woman—a man-child, as you are, who will bear this mark, the sun and moon, symbolizing the joining of the sun-child, you, and the child of the night, me. At least, it doesn’t say me, precisely. Only that she will come to a Raja and he will sire the cub.”
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Her chest felt strangely tight and an odd sort sadness had descended on her. “It’s odd how similar it is to the destiny Nanna foretold for me, and yet so different.”
Caleb cupped her face in his hand and tilted it up so that he could study her.
“What is this I see in your eyes, sweeting? Troubled thoughts?”
Bronwyn lifted her face from his grasp and turned away. “Must be my time of the month,” she mumbled.
He looked puzzled for a moment before enlightenment dawned. He smiled faintly. “It wouldn’t be much of a prophesy if it wasn’t that time, dear heart! Of course it is. I could smell the sweet perfume of it above even the foul scent of that lycan when you arrived. Why else do you think I’ve bred you so assiduously?”
Bronwyn made an effort to smile. “I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right, why else? Do you suppose it’s ‘taken’ yet?”
He looked surprised. “You don’t know? I assumed you would.”
“Humans don’t,” she said dryly. “If you could get me a pregnancy test kit, I can check.”
He shrugged. “I have a far better idea,” he murmured, amusement threading his voice. “Let us pretend we haven’t a notion and just keep working at it. Sooner or later, it’s bound to take.”
The problem with that, Bronwyn reflected, was that she was looking at heartbreak if she stayed with him very long. It was crazy, of course, but then she’d long since realized that her freaky physiology made her just plain weird. She’d already fallen for two completely inappropriate men—or males, at least. She shouldn’t be in any danger at all of falling for Caleb, especially when he was weirder than she was, but there was no getting around the fact that she felt horribly depressed that he really didn’t have any interest in her beyond breeding her.
Truthfully, she couldn’t see that she’d fared any better at all by sampling the
‘other’ side. Their objective might be different than the assholes back in Greenville, but the results were the same—except it came with a higher price tag and more baggage if they’d been successful—any of them.
If she wasn’t pregnant, she’d sure as hell missed her chance! It didn’t particularly bother her that, if that was the case, she was going to have a hell of a time figuring out which one of them had been successful since she’d slept with all three in such quick succession. It would be hers. That was all that mattered, and, moreover, she couldn’t be in any doubt that she cared for the father when she was crazy about all three.
It wasn’t possible to fail in that objective unless she just couldn’t get pregnant at all, which would be the ultimate irony!
She hadn’t found even
one
who loved her, though!
All she’d managed to do was to find three who were perfectly willing to fight each other to the death to be the one to get her pregnant! She’d actually considered that to be two until Constantine and Luke decided to rain on Caleb’s parade and brought out all of
his
territorialism.
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It looked like an army advancing on Caleb’s ‘castle’ from the rear—because it was an army even if it was a small one. A half dozen of Constantine’s followers were trailing him as he rounded from the front of the manor. At least twice that many lycans emerged from the darkened forest the manor backed up to.
Standing on the balcony, Bronwyn watched their advance in trepidation. There was no relief that Constantine and Luke didn’t seem to have any interest in each other at the moment. She knew if they succeeded in defeating Caleb, they would turn on each other.
She hadn’t understood why Caleb had decided to dine on the balcony since they hadn’t done so before. Now she knew why. He’d known they were coming and he’d wanted to be certain that they saw her dining with him when they did.
She sent him a reproachful look. “I don’t understand you, Caleb. Why would you want to provoke them when you don’t care anything about me?”
He studied her from beneath hooded lids. “Don’t be absurd. Of course I do, my love. You’re my mate.”
“You bred me,” she said tightly. “Most species at least mate long enough to rear their young!” She stopped abruptly when she saw his lips tighten with anger.
“I am Raja.”
She sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I know. You explained it and I understand. I even understand the urge to guard your territory until you’re sure you’ve succeeded, but you have … if it was at all possible. I’m sure I’m beyond my fertile period, or pregnant already. You don’t need to do this … whatever it is you have in mind. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
He shrugged. “They’ve trespassed into my territory,” he said flatly. “I forgave it once and allowed them to leave unharmed—for you.”
She moved toward him on impulse. “I know you don’t understand, but I care about them. Just let me leave and there won’t be any need for any sort of fight.”
His expression, if possible, grew harder. “If you wanted me to spare them, my love, you would’ve been far better off to convince me you didn’t care about them.”
She looked up at him distress. “I don’t want anyone to be hurt, and I especially don’t want the father of my child hurt.”
Something flickered in his eyes that time and, for a moment, she thought he’d see reason. “You should go inside, then, my love. In fact, I insist. The cub will be fragile now. You must protect it by protecting yourself.”
The urge to weep assailed her abruptly. It was so easy for him to throw out love words that didn’t mean anything at all—not to him. Ordinarily, she forgave him for it, knowing it was just his flamboyant personality, and perhaps a bit of wry humor that prompted it. “Don’t! Don’t call me your love when you don’t care anything about me!”
she said stabbing a finger at her chest.
She whirled to look at Constantine and Luke. “I’m a person, damn it!
No one
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seems to see me as a person! I’m nothing but the prophesy to all of you! The vessel you’re supposed to deposit your seed in! Well! You’ve done that! Go away and leave me alone!” she shouted at them.
She dashed inside then, slamming the French doors so hard the windows shattered. Guilt slashed at her briefly, but she didn’t stop. She rushed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, sliding down with her back against the door.
For several moments, there was dead silence and then the world seemed to explode. Beyond the stained glass window she could see light—balls of fire. Thunder ripped through the sky and the window shattered and then, as abruptly as it had begun, the energy released through magic ceased and snarls and growls and meaty thuds of physical battle took the place of the magic.
Bronwyn covered her ears. She couldn’t bear to think what might be happening outside and yet her imagination was her worst enemy. Blood filled her mind’s eye when she closed her eyes to try to shut herself away from the violence. The battle between the lycans the night Luke had taken her had never left her mind and the horrors she’d seen as they tore and slashed at each other rose instantly to fill her mind.
The urge to leap up and rush outside to try to stop them clashed with an equal need to get as far away from it as she possibly could.
“Oh Nanna!” she sobbed. “Why did you send me here? Why?”
She dropped her arms into her lap, staring at the marking that had set it all in motion and wished for perhaps the hundredth time that she’d cut it away. She’d always hated it. She’d tried to pretend she was more content to have it when her grandmother had ‘prettied’ it up with the tattoo, but she hadn’t been. She just hadn’t wanted to make Nanna feel unappreciated.
Sobbing now, she covered it with her left hand, wishing Nanna had just made it go away like she’d begged her to. “I found love, Nanna,” she said, a hitch in her voice,
“and now they’re trying to kill each other. Tell me what to do. Please?”
A strange prickling sensation washed over her. Almost the moment it passed, an image of her grandmother’s face formed in her mind. She looked sad, so sad.
I misled you, honey. I hope, in time, you’ll forgive me for it, but it was the only
way. You’d been hurt so badly by the bastards around here that pass for men, I knew
you’d never do what you had to do unless you believed your little girl’s dreams would
come true. You couldn’t attain your gifts, though, unless you chose this path and you
have too much potential to throw that away. These men who were your destiny—these
beings of the paranormal world—they aren’t the sort to settle down with a woman and
raise children. It isn’t in them to be chained that way, but you may be certain that only
he who cares for you will have begotten a child on you. I made sure of that—that the
child would be conceived in love—or not at all. That was necessary for him to achieve
his destiny. It’s time to go home—where you belong. You may be hurt, but you know in
your heart that you weren’t meant for those girlish fantasies. You’re a loner, just as I
was, just as the men you’ve come to love are.
She smiled.
That doesn’t mean you must always be alone. Trust me, they may
roam, but you have their love just as you do the child. They’ll always come back to you.
I couldn’t have wished for better lovers for you!
Go home, honey. As the babes grow, so will your powers. The time has come for
you to come into them. You’ll find my book of spells in the garden. You know where to
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look.
I just wish I’d lived long enough to see the day.
Bronwyn squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to hold on to the fading memory.
“Don’t go, Nanna! Not yet. There’s so much you never told me. So much I don’t understand.”
She wept harder when she couldn’t summon the image or the words back to her, realizing finally that her grandmother hadn’t visited her at all. She’d placed all of it in the spell she’d woven so long ago.
Sniffing, Bronwyn got up and washed her face and blew her nose.
It was quiet outside when she left the bedroom—deadly quiet. She paused in the middle of the room. She didn’t want to know, she decided, and yet she couldn’t prevent herself from crossing the room to the balcony and looking out at the hell the men she loved had wrought.
Her heart leapt with gladness that she had. They’d beaten one another to a bloody mess—and stopped to rest—no doubt with the intention of starting over as soon as they caught their second wind. She released an irritated breath. “I have what I came for!” she announced loudly enough to make certain they heard. “Fight if you want to, but I’m going home.”
All three of them tipped their heads back and stared up at her as if she’d grown another head. Turning her back on them, she marched across the balcony and left the room.
The car she’d stolen had vanished, but she discovered more cars at the gate.
When she’d climbed the fence, she checked them until she found one with keys and took it. She was almost surprised that no one tried to stop her, but she was too relieved to worry about it.
She’d fulfilled her destiny, she realized when she’d finally found her way back to her apartment, feeling almost dizzy with excitement when that finally occurred to her.
She didn’t have to check to see if she was pregnant. Nanna’s last words had clearly been intended to come to her when the time was right.
And she’d said babies—not baby!
That did make her feel faint, but deliriously happy at the same time. Babies!
Conceived in love!
She only packed the important things. Truthfully, there was very little that needed to be packed at all. She’d never really unpacked and it didn’t take long to load everything into her car. Unfortunately, she was in such a rush to escape before the guys recovered enough to come after her, she left the one she’d ‘borrowed’ at the curb in front of the apartment building.
Three dark sedans had surrounded her car and the one she’d ‘borrowed’ by the time she made it downstairs with the last of her treasures. Men in dark suits piled out of them as she reached the sidewalk and converged on her.
They had FBI written all over them—not literally but in every other sense—but her first thought/fear was that she’d stumbled on yet another group of paranormals that had the idea that she was their ‘promised one’. She was almost relieved to discover they weren’t, that they actually
were
FBI.
Until they took her to jail—well, downtown.
She’d chewed all of her fingernails down to the quick by the time integrators
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joined her in the small room they deposited her in upon her arrival.
“Am I under arrest?” she asked weakly as soon as the four stony faced men settled in chairs around table in the center of the room.
“Why do you ask? Have you done something?” one of the men asked sharply.
Bronwyn blinked at him, trying to remember his name—Reilly! Detective Reilly and the guy in the crumpled suit with a mustard stain on the lapel of his jacket was his partner, Brown. The two in the expensive suits were FBI, but she couldn’t remember their names. “I’m guessing you must at least think you have some reason to bring me here. If you don’t know, I certainly don’t, and I’d just as soon not stay.”
One of the FBI agents spoke. “We’re investigating a gang.”
Bronwyn stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
“More specifically, we’re investigating murders we think might be gang related,”
the other FBI agent said.
As luck would have it, Bronwyn’s mind instantly leapt to the poor man that had lost his head. She could feel her face turn white and she didn’t hold out much hope that they hadn’t noticed. “Murder?” she gasped weakly. “Somebody was murdered?”
Brown consulted a file—as if he couldn’t remember the poor guy’s name without looking it up. How was that for caring?
“Bill Duncan. His decapitated body was found near the cemetery. There was another male, unidentified, whose body was stolen from the morgue that was killed in the same gang … uh … killing.”
The first man who’d spoken glared at him but Bronwyn was only vaguely aware of the exchange. Her imagination had gone wild the moment they’d brought up the battle near, and in, the cemetery the night Luke had snatched her.
There’d been a body in the cemetery? Whose, she wondered?
It occurred to her after a few moments that they
might
be talking about Marco.
She hadn’t seen what happened after she’d left them preparing for battle, but she had seen Marco with Constantine later. He was the only possibility that came to mind, though. Luke certainly hadn’t been the body and since the fight seemed to have been between him and Marco, that only left Marco. Besides, he was the only one she knew who’d been there who might be mistaken for a corpse who would’ve been able to get up and leave.
She didn’t believe any of them had stolen an
actual
corpse from the morgue.
What would be the point of that?
Well, she could see the point since they were paranormal, but she was still sure it must have been Marco. Luke’s ‘gang’ had been with him. If any of them had been killed they would’ve taken the body with them and she was sure she would’ve overheard them talking about it anyway.
Poor man! It must have traumatic to wake up in the morgue.
“What do you know about it?” one of the FBI agents asked.
“Why would I know about it?” she hedged.
“You don’t read the papers?”
“It was in the
newspaper
?” she gasped, horrified.
“We have reason to suspect that you may have gang ties.”
She blinked at the FBI agent several times, trying to change tracks. “Why?”
“The car parked in front of your apartment building belongs to one of the
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members of the gang we’re investigating.”
“Which car?”
The four men looked at one another. “Do you or do you not know Luke Gray Wolf?”
Bronwyn felt her color fluctuate several times in quick succession. “That sounds like an Indian name—I mean Native American.”