Phoenix Broken (6 page)

Linking his fingers and raising his arms, Scott brought his joined hands down a blow that would've damn near snapped any normal man's spine. The werewolf merely grunted. Dark spots danced in front of Scott's eyes, but he managed to repeat the hit. His upper body strength was legendary for a reason.

The suffocating grip eased a fraction, allowing Scott to twist hard and get in a solid punch to the ear. Then another. Blood flew.

With a curse, Alcide released him, shaking his head, snarling. The werewolf circled him, his eyes narrowed.

Scott was no empath, but he could read the young man's face easily enough. Alcide had figured out Scott was no lightweight human, but the wolf also knew the edge was his; in power, in speed, in everything that should count.

Alcide was young, and he didn't know everything.

Old man, huh?

Fuck, let the kid see the advantages of age.

Scott channeled his fury with cold calculation, executing it with clockwork precision; another vicious kick to the knee he already weakened, a powerful slap to that bleeding ear again as the werewolf dipped to the side instinctively.

Spinning behind him, two hard, brutal hits to the kidney. Alcide staggered.

Coming around to the kid's offside, Scott spun out a kick that caught him on the chin, threw him back two feet and almost dropped him.

The werewolf was game and kept his feet as Scott closed, if barely. His ear was starting to resemble a bloody cauliflower. Even in full-on fight mode, Alcide kept his human form intact. Not a hint of fang showed as he shot Scott a grim smile. The kid had more control than he'd figured.

Maybe he should go easier on him…

Then Alcide opened his mouth. "That all you got? Christ, dude, my mom tanned my ass better than this when I was eight years old."

"You stupid sonofabitch," Gordy's words were clear, along with the trace of respect. Scott glanced up to see Nolan also shaking his head in grudging admiration.

It finally dawned why the kid had pushed for a fight in a room full of
paras.
This was his way of introducing himself. Pick the baddest guy in the room and have a go. Whether he got an ass-kicking or handed one out didn't really matter. Alcide was looking to establish himself—and he succeeded.

Fucking werewolves.

"Alright, you made your point. Let's end this."

Alcide grinned and clasped the hand Scott had stuck out. "Had enough, have you, sweetie?"

Rolling his eyes, Scott tightened his grip and yanked forward. With a sweep kick, he knocked the werewolf's feet out from under him.

Alcide landed hard on his ass to general laughter.

"Watch the mouth, wolf, and you just might survive around here," Scott smiled. "Maybe."

"Got it. Help a brother up, would you? I think you bruised my ass cheeks, you fucker."

Chuckling, Scott hauled him to his feet.

"Well, we can't have that. They're pretty sweet cheeks after all."

Alcide froze, looking Scott up and down with a hint of alarm. "Hey, about earlier, the winking and kissing and all…I was just playin', you know."

"Were you?" Scott gave him a slow smile and a wink of his own.

Brown eyes narrowed as Alcide studied him. "You're fucking with me, right?"

Scott only shrugged, leaving the wolf hanging as he headed to the locker rooms.

He wanted a shower, and then home and bed. The fight with Alcide had taken the edge off his mood, making Scott realize how tired he was.

The gym door opened before he could leave.

Dustin entered first, a slim man with Asian heritage and pink-streaked black hair, Phoenix's main IT guy. Behind him, Sabrina Watts entered the room to general stares, appreciative looks and one welcoming whistle from Nolan. She promptly gave him the finger, albeit with a smile.

Bri put the C in curvy. More like the D, actually. It was her sweet temperament, though, that made the
para
a favorite with everyone at Phoenix. It also didn't hurt that her gift was healing energy. More than one man here had had his aches and pains soothed by the lovely young woman. Scott was no exception.

He gave her a rare smile, "What's up, Bri?"

She took in his bloody knuckles, her eyes tracking unerringly to Alcide's mangled face.

"You idiots. I suppose you'll be expecting me to patch your asses up. By the way, did you all know Miles was coming in tonight? This shit won't impress him."

Scott shook his head. The others were quiet, most still intimidated by the scary French vamp, even though Kelsey had been married to him for nearly two years now. Scott wasn't, not much anyway.

Rousseau was alright.

"Don't fuss, Bri. He may be a Marquis, but Rousseau's no stranger to a good fight. He can get down and dirty with the best of us."

Behind him, he heard Alcide give a snort of agreement. How well did the young werewolf know Miles anyway? And what'd the vamp had him doing for the last eighteen months or so?

Scott pushed the curiosity aside. If it had to do with Cross, he would know. And if it didn't, who the fuck cared?

"Why don't you go fix up the wolf? I think he bit off more than he could chew with me."

Bri eyed Alcide, who brightened and gave her a big grin.

"Alright. But keep your hands to yourself, wolf boy. I've met some of your kind before and I won't tolerate being pawed, you got that?"

"Don't worry, Bri. He doesn't swing that way." Scott spoke before Alcide could open his mouth. The kid choked, shooting him a pained look.

"Hey, man, that shit is
not
cool."

"Oh my, fickle, aren't you?" Scott said innocently, batting his eyes. "I thought you had the hots for me."

More sputtering. "I was joking, you demented son of a bitch! I'm not gay. And if I was, I wouldn't do you!"

"Okay, sweet cheeks." Scott couldn't resist slapping the kid on the ass. Alcide jumped a foot in the air while Bri and the rest of the guys laughed.

Alcide's face was as red as his hair as he looked from her to Scott.

Sabrina pointed at the stool Dustin had hauled over.

"Sit, wolf boy. And let me assess the damage. What kind of idiot picks a fight with
Davidson
his first night in the gym?" Scott heard her ask as he moved to the locker rooms.

"I survived. And he's
not
gay, right?"

"No, but I
am,”
Dustin chimed in. “And I do so adore a hottie with a beard. Wanna go out some time, furry man?"

Scott turned in time to catch the wolf throwing his hands into the air. "Fine, but you're buying. And fair warning, I never put out on the first date."

"That's okay," Dustin winked at him. "I do."

Alcide groaned. With a smile, Scott let the door close behind him.

Ten minutes later, when Scott emerged from the shower, the gym was empty save for Nolan, Alcide, Bri and Dustin. All of whom were laughing.

The red-headed wolf seemed to make friends easily. Hell, even Scott was starting to like him and he didn't take to anyone these days. Excepting the last 24 hours, apparently.

"Miles show yet?" He asked roughly, trying to keep his mind from going
there
yet again.

Bri shrugged, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. Scott watched Alcide track the movement and resisted the urge to smile.

The werewolf wouldn't be the first or last to fall for the sexy healer, but he wouldn't get anywhere. Bri refused to date anyone from Phoenix. With the company gossip mill the way it was, Scott couldn't blame her.

"Probably." Bri answered. "He was on his way from O'Hare when we came in. Dustin said his code was keyed in from the airport." Bri was referring to the special security code that all three vampires tied to Phoenix Inc. used to secure their quarters on the grounds against sunlight.

"Well, since I haven’t been summoned, I'm calling it a day. He'll ring if he needs me. Night, you guys." He hugged Bri, bumped fists with Nolan and Dustin before giving Alcide a nod as he headed out.

Halfway down the hallway, just past his office, he heard voices. One of them was obviously Miles. That tinge of France was unmistakable. With a shrug, Scott headed that way, figuring he might as well say hello since the opportunity had presented itself.

When Scott stepped into the small training room, Miles looked up in surprise. Scott didn’t know anyone else in the room, which meant these were likely Miles' own people. Just two, a man and a woman. Kelsey was not present. Neither was Jules.

Curious.

"Davidson. I didn't think we'd run into anyone down here." The rooms were used solely for training classes. It didn't surprise him Miles thought it would be deserted, but the vampire was still learning the ins and outs of Phoenix's huge multi-structure complex.

Scott laughed. "You’d be right if you hadn't picked a room in the same wing as the goddamn gym."

"Merde."
Miles smiled, but there was a tightness there.

Hmmm. More and
more
curious.

They shook hands, the vampire not being the fist-bumping type. Scott took in the suit and tie Miles was sporting and frowned a little, his internal alarms buzzing faintly. Miles was French, and titled, with shitloads of money and even more class. He could pull off the Hugo Boss thing like, well, a boss. However, he seldom chose to, especially when he visited Phoenix. Jeans and button-ups were the vamps' preferred wardrobe. It was one of the things Scott liked about him.

So why the fancy-pants shit tonight?

He was dying to ask, but refrained. Obviously, Miles wasn't looking to advertise this meeting, and Scott was interrupting.

"I just popped in to say 'hey'. I'll go—"

His voice cut off when the woman entered the room.

Scott took a step backwards. It couldn't be her.

But it was.

His naughty, nameless beauty from the night before.

She looked different. Wearing purple velvet; a demure dress that on her looked anything but. Those curves that'd haunted him all night and day just didn't do unassuming.

"I'm back," she said, looking down at her hands. Hands that still sported violet nail polish, making Scott’s gut tighten as he watched them twist nervously in the folds of her dress, remembering the feel of those hands wrapped around him.

"Let's finish this." She lifted her face, her eyes widening when she saw Scott. "Oh.
Well.
This is …interesting."

Her thick wavy hair was pulled into a heavy knot on her head, golden-brown tendrils escaping here and there to curl against that dusky skin. Skin that didn't hold a hint of a flush as she took him in. Her eyes were red, though. Like she’d been crying.

Scott frowned.
What the hell was going on here?

"Hey, Johnny," she said calmly.

He stepped forward without thinking, his fingers circling her upper arm.

"What are
you
doing here?" His voice was louder than he'd intended. Conversation around the room halted.

She raised her eyebrows, and then looked down at his hand on her arm. Scott had no intention of releasing her, a fact she seemed to pick up on quickly. She let out a breathy sigh, sending the curls at her temples dancing.

"I was invited. The Marquis let me in, of course. He's an old …family friend."

Her tone gave a lilt to the words Scott didn't understand. Or like.

His eyes flew to Miles. The vampire was giving the woman a sharp look, but he didn't correct her.

She was a friend of Miles?
Oh, this shit was a laugh riot. It wasn't bad enough he'd been inside out about last night's escapade in Centaries. Now he had to figure out a way to explain to Miles how he 'knew' this woman. Without
really
explaining it.

His grip on her arm slackened as the image of her on her knees flashed in front of him again. And made his balls tighten.

The rage that had been beaten back by his fight with Alcide rose its head again. Made all the bigger and uglier by the pain, guilt and desire swirling inside him. Face to face, it wasn't possible to equivocate. He'd had sex with this woman— at least a form of it—and he couldn’t deal with how that shit made him feel.

The question wouldn't stop ringing in his head.
What had he done?

"Do you think you held me down and forced your cock down my throat? Stop beating yourself up, Johnny. You didn't do anything.
I
did."

She looked alarmed at his distress. Her hand had gone to his forearm, caressing him, apparently unconsciously. Her touch, no matter how soothing she meant it to be, only confused him more.

Was she a goddamn
empath?
It seemed likely considering she'd tuned in so precisely to the guilt he hadn't voiced. Then the absolute quiet registered and Scott realized that she'd far from whispered those words.

"Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with you?" He pulled her into the hall, away from the others who were looking their way curiously. Except Miles. The vampire didn't look curious.

He looked thunderstruck.

Oh,
great.

The woman's jaw tightened as she dug in her heels. "Nothing is wrong with me. I just opt out of the guilt trip I sense you packing for, alright? I'm sorry you've got…whatever issues it is that you have. And I'm sorry I chose you last night. Well, no, that's not true, but if it bothers you so much, I can pretend to be. I get that you're messed up pretty bad, Johnny…only by the time I realized how much, it was too late." Her voice was both matter of fact and earnest. "It won't happen again, promise."

"You're damn right it won't," he snapped.

Shit. His cock had twitched at the very thought of
again
. Scott caught himself staring at her mouth, then shook himself angrily.

Her bluntness had him thinking she did this sort of thing a lot. The question that rose in his head made him both sad and pissed off.
Exactly what kind of woman was she?

Her chin lifted as if he'd whispered those very words in her ear.

"Don't go there. Why do humans always
do
that? I've never gotten you people's attitude about sex," she said, stomping her foot as she glared at him. "But that's definitely your issue, not mine. I was only trying to help you, damnit."

Wait,
what?

"Humans? What do you mean 'humans always do that'?
You're
human."

"No, Scott. She's not." Miles had followed them while Scott had been distracted. The vampire was frowning at him in a decidedly stern manner.

"Or at least not entirely. Desdemona is half human. Her father is...
was
a demon. A very powerful one." Miles shot the woman a look that puzzled Scott. It was almost like a warning.

Demon?
Scott released her arm at last. He stared as she pulled away, her chin going up. Desdemona. The name fit her. Strangely beautiful. He liked the sound of it, far too much.

"What kind of demon?"

"Her father was one of the incubi. She's a succubus."

Desdemona folded her arms over her luscious chest and rolled her eyes. "And here's where the proverbial lightbulb flashes over his head. I'll skip this part, if you two don't mind."

With a sigh and a swirl of purple velvet, she turned and walked down the hall. Scott watched her yank at the first door she came to—which happened to be the gym—and close it behind her.

He turned to Miles at once. “Why are you meeting a half-demon this late in a section of Phoenix you thought was deserted?”

Miles smiled tightly. “It's not late for me. And you don’t really expect me to answer that question, Davidson.”

“Where do you know her family from?”

Shaking his head, Miles' smile thinned. “Or that one.”

“Come on, you bloodsucking French son of a bitch, give me something.”

Miles raised his eyebrows, making Scott acutely aware of who he'd just insulted.
Screw it.
Scott didn't even blink as they locked eyes.

The vampire finally sighed. “I have… had a long history, shall we say, with her father.”

“Who is her father?”

“Who
was
. He's dead now,” Miles hesitated, then said, “Augustine Chaput.”

Scott could only stare. “Well, fuck me.”

Chaput.
The hooded one.
Scott was far from an expert on demons, but he had heard of that one.

Chaput was the stuff nightmares were made of. Whispers in the dark mostly, because demons were way too smart to parade their true natures about, unlike some shades nowadays. Scott wouldn’t have recognized the demon's real name, except he’d come across it in Phoenix’s files during a case last year.

Augustine Chaput was one sadistic bastard. The hooded one had terrorized Europe for centuries before disappearing off the map a couple decades ago. His specialty had been stealing the most virtuous and 'pure' women from their families. Men, too. He was an equal opportunity sex demon, one who’d apparently relished destroying lives.

He was even rumored to have masqueraded as a saint centuries ago. Just for kicks. God knew how many lives that creature had destroyed.

That was whose blood flowed in the woman who’d had her mouth on him. Scott closed his eyes.

The worst of it was he’d
liked
her. He'd felt so easy and almost…happy for those couple hours. Scott hadn't felt happy in fucking forever.

He'd dealt badly with his response to her, but knowing this made it all worse.

Had his response been his own?
Had any of it even been real?

Had he been mind-fucked by a succubae simply for kicks?

“I want to talk to her.” Scott's voice was unnerving to his own ears, rough as a match dragging over strike paper. Apt, as his fuse was fucking short and burning down fast.

“Not a good idea, Scott.”

“I wasn’t asking your goddamn permission, Rousseau.”

He turned his back on the vampire, hearing a soft string of curses in French that Scott vaguely registered as insulting both his nationality and the size of his cock before he opened the door to the gym.

Desdemona was leaning back against a wall. Nolan, who looked as if he'd just emerged from a shower of his own, was talking to her. She was smiling at something the big man was saying. Nolan, being his usual charismatic self, was emphasizing everything with wide gestures that showed off his not unimpressive, heavily tattooed physique.

Scott’s jaw tightened as he stalked forward.

Nolan glanced over and caught Scott’s expression. The big
para
did a double take before looking at the woman in front of him, then back at Scott again. With a bewildered smile and a shrug, he backed away to where Bri, Alcide and Dustin were still chatting.

Desdemona turned at Nolan’s departure. Those gorgeous spun sugar lips tightened at the sight of Scott, but she gave him a level stare out of calm grey eyes.

Maybe that look should’ve given him pause, but Scott wasn’t in the mood to check himself.

“Do you get off on screwing with people like me?”

“Actually, yes. It’s kind of my nature,” she said, tilting her head. "But I’m curious what you mean by 'like you'? As opposed to people like
me
, I suppose.”

“You’re not entirely 'people', are you, Desdemona?" Her lips parted at his use of her name, then those slight shoulders squared.

“Neither is your boss, genius.” She waved a hand at Miles.

Scott didn’t feel the need to correct her about Miles being his boss. Jules
was
his boss, after all, along with Kelsey; and they were
both
vampires. Moot point. They weren't demons, though.

They weren't like her.

“I'm not talking about shades in general. This is different. You used me.”

She looked at him, her expression startled. Something flitted through her eyes; several emotions, one right after the other, flicking past so fast he couldn't read them all. Was guilt one of them? Possibly. But he'd also seen disappointment. Sadness. Something that might've been fear. Then she blinked it all away into smooth, unassailable grey.

“Did I? Did you feel used when I made you come?”

Silence fell over the gym.

Scott sucked in a breath, before spitting out his next words, “Goddamn it! You manipulated me with what you are! You pushed me into responding to you.”

Taking a step toward him, her gaze softened.

“Oh Johnny, is that what you think?" Her eyes searched his face. Slowly, she shook her head. "No. I don't think so. But a part of you really wants to, doesn't it? You're confused and hurting, and that would make things so much easier for you to deal with. You want to think of me as some demon whore who took advantage of your pain, instead of someone who brought you pleasure purely as a gift.”

Scott ignored the ring of truth in her words. Fuck that shit.

This was why he'd been so messed up the last twenty four hours. It hadn't been
real.
It couldn't be.

He wouldn't let it be.

Fact. She was a succubus, sex was her power.

Fact. Demons
always
abused power, they were incapable of anything else.

Simple logic said she’d fucked with him more ways than one.

"Whore is too kind a word for what you are." The words came out of his mouth, but for a second, Scott couldn't believe he'd said them.

That mouth that’d haunted him all night trembled once. Then her face went mask-like; taut and utterly expressionless. It didn’t steal her beauty, but it took away its heart. The stab of guilt took him by surprise, but Scott ignored that, too.

“Believe what you will. I didn't push you to anything. I didn't ask you for anything. I only gave, and we both know you enjoyed what I offered. If I had really wanted to fuck with you the way you are meaning, Johnny—to drain you of everything that makes you a man—we’d be locked in a room somewhere still.
And you'd be the one on your knees.
" She took a step forward, poking one violet-tipped finger into his chest, stealing his breath with a look.

"I could show you things that would make those sexy green eyes pop right out of your head. In one night, I can make any man my slave for damn near eternity.
Any
man, Johnny. If I'd used my powers on you the way you think, everyone here would know it. With one snap of my fingers you would crawl to me."

She snapped her fingers for emphasis, but her smile was sad when he flinched.

"Oops," she said softly, "guess I forgot to do the evil sex demon thing. My bad."

Desdemona whirled away from him, only to freeze at the sound of Miles clearing his throat. Her shoulders slumped, the vulnerable gesture sending another pang through Scott's chest. She looked over at the vamp in wordless resignation.