The Willing (2 page)

Luka watched the gurgling baby in my
hands carefully. Micah threw his hands up in the air to reach for
my face. I couldn’t help it. I loved him so much that right there
in front of Luka, I spoke in the silly high tones reserved for
children under two and small animals.

“Hello Micah. Did you miss me? Of
course you did, you precious thing.”

Yes, similar sentiments followed. It’s
hard not to love someone who is so happy to see you every single
time you reappear.

I hugged the baby close and turned to
Luka. “This is Micah.”

Luka’s gaze softened. I had once asked
Luka what he wanted more than anything else in the world, and he
had responded “to be a father.” He knew that the odds that Micah
was his child were very good. He reached for Micah and I
relinquished my hold on him. I felt the overwhelming need to
protect my son, but Luka would not hurt a child. He might be a
Slayer, but he only kills those who offend the Lycanti—like myself,
not my innocent child.

Seeing Micah in Luka’s arms made my
mind return to the present issues at hand instead of daydreaming in
mommy-land.

“Are you willing to get a paternity
test?”

Luka’s sharp gaze cut into me. “Are you
a fool? Do you know what would happen if our DNA got out into
public?”

I frowned. “They took blood from Micah
in the hospital; there’s nothing wrong with him.”

“There’s a difference between blood
test and DNA tests. A DNA test uses phosphorescent lights to
distinguish between different stands. The Lycanthrope gene stands
out like a bad Monet painting.”

“Oh.” We sat in silence a moment, the
only sound Micah’s baby-soft breathing as he studied Luka’s face
with an intensity that was almost funny.

“So you would rather just not know?” I
asked.

Luka sighed and hugged Micah close. “It
makes no difference. Even if he were Will’s child, I would take
care of him like he was my own. Brooke would not have to know that
you are his mother.”

The hot words rushed out before I could
stop them. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“About what?”

“You honestly think I’m going to let
you take my child home to that psychotic whore?”

Micah obviously did not like my tone,
because he added to the stress of the situation by starting to
bawl.

“Give me my son,” I said roughly over
the crying, but reaching gently to take Micah.

I found that Luka would not let him
go.

“Luka, don’t do this.”

“He needs to go with me to the Clan,
Emily. He’ll be safe there. Far safer than you can keep
him.”

My heart dropped what seemed like ten
feet. I had known that would be the course of action all along, but
I had not wanted to accept it. The hope that Luka would support my
decision to keep Micah here had buoyed me, allowing me to hang onto
the fragility of life here in Southern California. After all, my
parents are here. And although they think me to be dead, I’m sure
they would like to see their grandchild and know that their
daughter is alive. But Luka voiced my own fears.

“The Clan will hunt you now that you
have reappeared. He is not safe.”

“
Then I’ll take him away,”
I said sadly, looking at my baby as if he could disappear right
before my eyes. The little sparks of hope died.

He leaned in and I could smell that
spicy aroma that was distinctly Luka.

“Let me keep him safe, Emily,” he
cooed. “Even if it means allowing another Clan member to raise him.
He will grow up loved, rest assured.”

My mind started to fall into that
luxurious softness I had felt with Will most of the time, phantom
fingers stroking the core of me. And then I got angry about
it.

“You’re trying to dope me!”

He drew back. “I didn’t realize I was
doing it.”

But he did. I knew he did. A
Lycanthrope or Lycanti male can choose when to release sex
pheromones to subdue or attract a mate. Luka knew, much better than
I did at any rate.

“Give me my baby,” I demanded.
“Now.”

He looked at Micah again, and I could
tell he was thinking about just leaving with my son. Thankfully, he
handed the child over to me. Micah calmed in my arms, grabbing for
my necklace and my hair.

“There are other alternatives to keep
him safe,” I said resolutely. I had planned this conversation out a
hundred times in my head for the last year, but the words still
stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“Like what? Moving to a different
country? Where do you expect to get the money for that? Your friend
may rent you an apartment, but I doubt she’ll pay for you to live
in a different country. And you can’t hold a job. Gods know when
you would Change.” He paused and looked sour. “Do you realize what
kind of life that would be for your son? He could never be around
other normal children, not because of himself, but because of you.
He won’t start to Change until sometime after puberty, not that you
know anything about how we develop.”

Once again, I felt emotional about his
contempt for my humanity. He had never treated me like this before
Will’s death, before the baby, before I was Lycanti. When I had
been human, he had not hated me so much. Now that I am Lycanti, he
likes to remind me how very human I am.

“I want you to leave, Luka,” I said,
choking on the sob that threatened to escape. I never thought I
would say those words to him.

“And I want sons who know who their
father is,” he snapped.

Our gazes clinched together; I
struggled with the quick uprising of shame that came with that
statement. He followed me to the next room as I laid Micah down for
the night.

“I want more than that for my boy,
Luka,” I said evenly as we returned to the den. “I want my son to
be human.”

His eyes narrowed. “You have no right
to make that choice.”

“I’m his mother. I have every
right.”

Luka towered over me, moving so close
to my face that I thought he’d kiss me.

“You will give him the choice at his
first Change. That is tradition.”

The anger bubbled up inside me again,
hot and fast. I fought it back down so I would not Change in the
midst of our argument.

“I don’t care about your goddamn
traditions. Micah doesn’t deserve this life.”

“The life of a Lycanti is different
than that of a pure blood,” Luka sneered. “Surely you know that
much from your time in the north.”

I gasped. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. It’s my business to
know. I tracked you until Oregon then came home.” He paused,
weighing his own words. “I thought Josh would kill you and save me
the trouble.”

I swallowed the hurt and looked away.
“You almost got your wish several times.”

He cupped my chin in his enormous
hands. I involuntarily looked up at him; the pain in his eyes
surprised me.

“I was hurt, Emily,” he said softly.
“You used me that night. You knew I could not say no to you and now
I live every day with the knowledge that I betrayed
Brooke.”

I threw his hands off me. “Don’t say
her name here,” I spat.

He shook his head. “She is a part of my
life whether you like it or not. Just as you are part of mine
whether or not she desires it.”

I sighed. Suddenly, I wanted the old
Luka back, the one who would smile and shrug off any tension
between us; the one whose smug grin and impetuosity warmed me
inside. This new, solemn Luka unnerved me. I wanted him playful
again, not bitter.

“There’s no way out of this, is there?”
I asked.

He ran a calloused thumb from my temple
to my chin along my jaw line. “No,” he admitted. “But I will not
punish you for Will’s death—if you tell me what happened. The
truth, Emily. I will know if you lie this time.”

I wanted to Change then, to run away
from this confrontation, but Micah slept in the next room,
defenseless and probably dreaming of me holding him, loving him.
And as much as I trusted Luka, I did not trust him that much. But
if he wanted to know about Will, perhaps it was truly time to tell
him.

“You will not like it,” I
warned.

“I have to know,” he replied
stoically.

So I told him of how I had returned
after fighting with him that night, high strung and ready for sex;
how I straddled Will in a chair and tied him up, teasing him until
he had no reason to tell me no for anything; how I had taken the
sharp iron arrow and sliced him open, sucking at his blood and
tearing at his flesh as he came, devouring him alive as he screamed
and hissed in agony and pleasure but never telling me to stop. Not
even I, as cynical as I am, could stop the tears at the
end.

“I guess he thought he could live
through anything,” I concluded lamely.

“Or was willing to die rather than deny
you,” Luka said darkly.

“God, I hope not,” I said
passionately.

Luka reached for me, and I felt no
reservations about falling into his arms as he held me tightly with
the knowledge that we had loved the same man. I was suddenly
painfully aware of my thighs pressed against his, the pulse
snapping back and forth between us. My nipples hardened. Luka knew
the power he held over me. His broad hand stroked my back gently.
After all, my seduction of him had cost him something greater than
his life—his honor—and he would not forget it so easily or dismiss
my reaction to him. I was only human—well, sort of—and my bloodlust
had taken over. Had I been able to control myself, Will would not
be dead and Luka and I would not be so miserably snappish at each
other. The heat between us in this one embrace would burst into the
flames of passion instead of the ash of regret that it was sure to
become.

Luka spoke into my hair. “Thank you,
Emily. I’ve been wondering for so long.”

So caught up in the feel of him against
me, I had temporarily forgotten what he spoke of. Then it hit me.
His gratitude seemed too good of a thing for the likes of me, and I
felt cheap knowing what I’d have to say next. The bulge in his
pants nudged against my hips insistently. I wiggled uncomfortably
in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” he asked pulling away,
sensing my change in mood.

I fidgeted, suddenly bashful. “I need a
favor.”

His demeanor turned suspicious. My, how
he had changed in a year!

“I should have known that is why you
returned. Always wanting something. Why come back for anything
else?” he snarled. His arms still hung around me loosely but his
yearning for me had vanished.

The pain in his tone was evident. And
then I knew the truth: he still entertained the hope that we would
be together—that I had come back for him—even though he would not
leave Brooke. That’s why he held me even though he was angry, why
his crotch argued with his brain at this very moment. It angered me
and saddened me simultaneously. Poor, idealistic, honor-bound Luka
who loved me too much and not enough…the cry of women down the
ages, damn him. And poor me, who wanted it so badly, too. I held to
that. I did not let the anger or the sadness color my
tone.

“I want you to take me to the
Lycanthrope.”

“My father will kill you,” he said
immediately.

“Not your clan—Will’s.”

“They will kill you, too. You are not
exactly in favor, Emily. Maria knows you killed Will. A mother
always seeks revenge. She will not allow you to live.”

“She will if I have her
grandchild.”

“Which you do not even know for
sure!”

“They don’t know that.”

“You conniving bitch,” Luka
growled while pulling himself away from me forcefully. “You have no
right to take Micah away, especially if it means I have to give up
my claim to him. What could you possibly want from the Clan? If you
think that they will make Micah human, you are mistaken. He has a
right to his own
opção
. They will honor
the tradition.”

I shook my head violently. “It’s not
just that. They need to know about Josh’s pack.”

“We know everything. There aren’t
enough of them to worry about right now. And Oregon is outside my
hunting range until I take care of the last two Lycanti here. Then
I can move away from all the bullshit here.” He glared pointedly at
me.

“This has nothing to do with Oregon,” I
stated evenly.

Luka’s eyes widened. “And what,
exactly, does it concern?”

“Alaska,” I answered simply.

His tone was a bit surprised.
“Alaska?”

“Yes, Alaska.” I took a deep breath and
hoped my memories would not overwhelm me. “Josh’s pack is
moving—and they’re taking their property with them.”

I saw the thousand questions that
formed behind his brow through the clear swirl of his eyes.
Finally, he spoke gravely, “You think to invoke the Clan’s wrath on
Josh’s pack? Revenge?”