by Nancy Gideon
He tensed, his movements quickening with purpose as he growled, “You love this. You don’t love me.”
“What? Colin, that’s not—”
His mouth took hers roughly to silence the rest of her objection. Lips grinding, his teeth drew blood as she squirmed and pushed at his shoulders, making soft, increasingly agitated sounds. He was different somehow, not just in actions. His scent had altered into something almost unrecognizable. Something hot and dangerous.
Abruptly, he tore away from her, rolling off the far side of the bed to hit the floor on hands and knees. As she panted wildly, trying to recover from her shock, his words rumbled up with a dark, vicious promise.
“Get out! Get the hell out!”
Was that even his voice? Mia hesitated. “Colin?”
“Go! Just go. Please,” he panted then shouted, “Go! Now!”
She didn’t question. She grabbed up her clothes, tugged them on in the living room, and she ran from whatever Colin Terriot had become.
Relieved by the sound of her frantic scrambling and the slamming of his door, Colin gave in to the hard, fitful shivers, letting the dam he’d shored up in the club crack wide open again. He stayed low to the floor, afraid if he moved those dark, fierce urges would grab control again.
He loved Mia! Loved her more than his life! But moments ago, he’d nearly succumbed to horrible suggestions. That she was lying, betraying him. That he needed to hurt her. Punish her. Violently.
The deep, animal sound rumbling up from the wildness of his clan’s past startled him, but not as much as the sensations and images flashing hot and visceral through his brain. The thick taste of blood he’d sampled in passion, he now craved with an uncontrolled fury. Imagining her screams, and high, thin pleas excited the viciousness ripping through him, just as he pictured tearing through her with claws and teeth. Until she was silent.
What’s happening to me?
"Hey, can I come in?"
Silas regarded the ragged Terriot through the crack of his open door. No good could come of eyes swimming in red. "I don't think that's a good idea, Colin. Just tell me what you want."
"I need to talk to you. I'm in trouble, and I need somebody I can trust."
"Why the hell am I always that somebody?" Silas grumbled to himself. "What kind of trouble? Why are you bleeding?"
Colin put an unsteady hand to his mouth, glancing down at clothes splotched with the blood, hesitating before he answered in what sounded like a lie. "I was in a fight at the club."
"Did you start it?"
"I don't know. Can I come in. Please. I don't want to drop out here in the hall."
A quiet voice came from behind the hesitant father-to-be. "He's not our problem, Si."
But looking at the Terriot prince as he wove and panted on the edge of collapse, Silas knew that wasn't true. "Are you dangerous?"
"Not at the moment."
Not exactly the reassurance he was looking for. "I let you in and you stir up shit, I'll take you out without a blink to protect my family."
"I wouldn't respect you if you didn't."
"I wasn't aware you respected me to begin with."
That earned a very small, very wan smile. The door swung wide, and Silas caught his visitor as he crashed inward like a felled oak.
"What the hell do you guys eat, small cars? Nica, give me a hand with him. If he snaps at you, kill him."
"Without a blink," she agreed, slipping under one arm so they could drag Colin into their living room and deposit him on the couch.
While Silas went to the kitchen to wet a towel, Nica cautiously lifted an eyelid and his top lip. She frowned as her husband bent down to wipe the gore away. The cool feel of the cloth brought their uninvited guest around again. Silas put out an arm to move the pregnant female back as Colin took the towel from him, blotting his neck and pressing it to his brow.
"Why are you transforming?" Nica demanded.
"I don't know. I didn't bring it on, and I can't pull all the way out of it."
"You're lying," she replied. A Shifter drowning in Chosen poison was never a good thing. "You do know. Tell the truth, or we're done."
Colin steadied his breathing and blurted it all out, everything he'd learned from Susanna LaRoche and had been trying to outrun since. Right up to whatever small, unfortunate night creature he’d fallen upon in an alley just minutes before, ripping into it, devouring it with an insatiable hunger. The horror of that being Mia’s fate had brought him to MacCreedy’s door.
"Why didn't you do the smart thing and stay at the clinic?" Nica's tone was its own answer. When had Terriots ever done the smart thing?
"I don't know her. I didn't know what to do. We've never had any dealings with these folks in the North until lately. But you have. That's why I came here. If I’d hurt Mia . . . if I’d harmed that boy . . ." He broke off, unable to finish the sentence or the thought.
"What exactly do you expect us to do?" Nica asked tightly.
"I don't know. Save my ass?"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As the couple looked at one another, brows raised, Colin rushed on. "I saw what you did with Cale out at Savoie's. You put him in some kind of trance and worked some of that creepy Hoodoo crap on him. Could you do that with me? To see what they put inside me?
"Maybe," Silas allowed, but he still hung back, adding, "but you'd be better off at the clinic where they can monitor you."
Contain him. Control him. Drug him into compliance. Colin got that. "If it was just me, it wouldn't matter. I'd let 'em strap me down, cut me open, do what they had to."
"Let me take a shot," Silas began, "and ask if a certain Guedry is involved."
"I bonded with Mia."
Silas's quick inhalation was his only reaction. Nica was more aggressive, demanding, "When?"
"Before Dr. LaRoche called me in to tell me something more was going on." His features darkened. "You think I'd have done that if I thought she might be in any danger?" Fear, pure and terrible, overwhelmed his insult. "Is she in any danger? Son of a bitch. If anything happens to her because of me-" He broke off, swallowing hard, eyes swimming before he fiercely blinked them clear again. “Tonight, when she came over, I started hearing things, awful things, telling me to . . .”
“To what? Was it a voice?” Nica insisted. “Whispering things to you? Telling you to do things, things to Mia?”
“I would never hurt her! But this voice, it . . . I can’t let anything happen to her!”
And just like that, Nica melted. Her hands covered his for a firm press. "We'll make sure nothing does."
His broad shoulders dropped as his breath gusted out in a heartfelt, "Thank you."
"Let's see what's rattling around in there."
"Nica, you think that's a good idea, considering?"
She regarded her mate impatiently. "I know what to look for. You sit tight in case I need backup. I mean, he's a Terriot. How complex can it be?" Her smile teased as she said that. Colin relaxed at the touch of fingertips to his damp brow.
"Mia Guedry," Silas mused. "That can't be common knowledge."
"Keep it that way," Colin warned, closing his eyes. "And don't go peeking into anything you're not supposed to!"
"What could be in your head that I'd want to see?"
Was she ever surprised.
There was no way to time where one would land in the middle of a mental fog. Nica felt her way along carefully, so no one, not subject or intruder, would feel her presence. She immediately knew she'd jumped too far back. "I think I've stumbled upon the Up All Night porn channel. You are in great shape, by the way."
"Moving on," Silas grumbled.
"There's a lot a angsty stuff in here and . . . my, my, a few surprises." Then, her amusement fled. "Ahh, here we go."
Colin froze, body tense. The heat where her fingertips pressed to his skin intensified until those burning points seemed to drill right through bone and matter. Pressure increased as if her hands were curling, trying to pull his
skull apart. Then she was gone. He opened his eyes to find Nica staring at him, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"What did you find out?" Silas was first to ask, curious and a bit annoyed by her interaction with Colin.
"Something interesting. Someone I didn't expect to see."
"Who?" Silas demanded.
Colin took a breath and prepared to be eviscerated. But she didn't drag up his past. Instead, she provided a tidbit that meant nothing to him at all.
"Hawthorne."
MacCreedy's calm went nuclear without him moving a muscle. Fury pushed from him like an atomic blast, sending shock waves promising total destruction.
"Him, again?" was all he said in a deadly quiet voice. Colin shied back when Silas reached toward him and was reassured with a terse, "Just need an address."
His hand fit over Colin's face, fingers touching brow and temples with a light pressure for no more than a few seconds before he moved back. "Got it. I'm going to go make a call." He bent to brush a reassuring kiss across Nica's cheek then opened an arched stained-glass window over a built-in bench and climbed through it out onto the roof.
"Who's this Hawthorne?" Colin asked.
But Nica wasn't interested in that question when she had one of her own. "You and Silas's sister? Are you kidding me? Does he know?"
"Am I still breathing?"
"You and Brigit?"
"What? She was hot, and I was a horny kid. The moment got the best of us." His flippant tone seemed forced.
"You. And Brigit. She never, EVER, let on that anything had ever gone on between the two of you when you were staying out at Savoie's."
"What can I say? The night knew no last names." Then smugness fell away. "Don't say anything. It was something really nice in the middle of a whole lot of ugly. Just ships passing. Nothing she needs to be called out on now. I promised her I'd never breathe a word. And I haven't."
Nica shook her head, amazed. "A Terriot and a Guedry. She never ceases to surprise me."
"Guedry?" But Nica drew back behind her secrets until he was recalled to one she kept from him. "Who’s this Hawthorne?"
She brought him a tall glass of ice water and sat on the adjacent love seat while he gulped it thirstily. Then she began.
"When Silas met me, I was an assassin for the Chosen in the North sent to New Orleans to eliminate a problem."
"Silas?"
"No, but we did tangle." She smiled as if that was a particularly pleasant memory. "My controller was Hawthorne, a nasty worm who held my mental joy stick to keep me following their program. Have you been having strange urges? Heard an unfamiliar voice pushing you to do things?"
Colin’s pallor was her answer. "But you were able to break free of him?"
"Thanks to Silas, who convinced him to let me go. He's been a reluctant help to us several times since then."
"He's the one pressing my buttons? Can Silas stop him?"
"If anyone can, he's the one."
Hawthorne sat back in his recliner, hoping a nice Merlot would rinse away the gamey taste of Terriot. Nasty business, so far beneath what he was capable of. But, under the circumstances, any work was better than the alternative. That of being dead. As he was reminded by a voice from the past.
"Still at it, I see."
His shriek endangered his collection of fine crystal.
MacCreedy! In his living room!
No, not really there. But that didn't lessen the danger. He touched trembling fingertips to his horrifically scarred face as a reminder. "I've stayed away, as promised." His voice quivered like that delicate glass. "I haven't come near you or yours."
The tall Shifter stood in the same spot he'd occupied when materializing the first time. Then, Hawthorne had mistakenly believed himself in no danger. Now, he knew better.
"Colin Terriot."
Hawthorne was genuinely shocked. "Why would one of them be of any interest to you? Isn't that like fretting over the fate of fleas on a dog?"
"He's one of my fleas. Leave him alone."
No hesitation. "Done."
He'd been too quick to acquiesce. MacCreedy's steely stare narrowed. "What's your interest there? I thought you'd learned your lesson with their leader."
"Yes. Quite. Nothing redeemable about that lot. Dangerous, treacherous, and totally unreliable. Not worth the effort to try to civilize them."
"Then why are you wasting your valuable time? Why on this one?" When greeted with silence, his request grew less civilized. "Why this particular Terriot? I want specifics. Don't make me work up a sweat to get them."
Hating dampness in any form, Hawthorne told him everything.
"Hey."
Nica and Colin glanced up from their annoyingly comfortable discussion. Silas nodded to their guest.
"We're good. I'll take you home."
Nica knew him too well. As the Terriot prince headed for the door, her gaze went to her husband in worried question. Silas couldn't respond without spilling everything, so he just smiled thinly and herded Colin out the door. His friend . . . Was he actually thinking of a Terriot as a friend? . . . moved easier now but with a dragging fatigue. He got into Silas's car without comment, leaned back, eyes closed, but wasn't resting.
"You and Mia," Silas ventured. "So, Cale has no problem with the two of you in bonded bliss." A long pause. "You haven't told him."
"You and the missus know. That's as far as it's gotten."
"Are you going to tell her what's going on with you?"
"I don't know what's going on with me.” His eyes opened and pinned MacCreedy with a look. "What's going on with me?"
"We're going in to see Susanna in the morning. I'd drop you off tonight if it wasn't so late. You'll let her do whatever the hell she needs to do and do whatever she tells you."
"I'm not all right, am I?"
"You're a Terriot. You can't get more wrong than that. Be ready at seven. I've got an actual job to go to. Stay put, you understand? I’m not cleaning up after you." Nothing more was said until he pulled up in front of Colin's quaint little house.
Colin shoved open the door then turned to him with a twist of a smile. "Thanks for the help and the ride, and the fatherly advice, but you're not my daddy. Or my brother." His large frame lifted from the vehicle, and the door shut behind him.
Silas waited until he opened his courtyard gate and shut it behind him before reaching for his phone. His call was answered with a brisk, "Hey, baby. What's up?"
"Cale, I need a face to face. How soon can you and as much of your family as you can round-up be here?"
"Daylight, unless you need us sooner. Is this a dance party or a war party, so we'll know how to dress?"
He couldn't help smiling at the cocky tone and hated like hell what he was about to do.
"It's about Colin, and it's not good."
“Where have you been? I’ve been leaving messages?” Mia’s tone roughened. “What did you do?”
“Could you be more specific?” Thorne drawled, unconcerned by Mia’s fury as she leaned in close where they sat at the hotel bar. Her fingers dug into his forearm.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He, who? Your Terriot lover? Oh, I guess I should ask which one first.”
“The one valuable to our negotiations. When did you decide to change the plan without telling me? Maiming him was disastrous enough. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” She waited, terrified of the truth she had to hear.
“Plans change. A unique opportunity arose, and I took it.”
His tone quickened more icy fear. “Opportunity for what?”
“Study. I piggybacked a very lucrative deal on top of your Terriot volunteer’s availability. A disposable guinea pig was required for a test subject, and he was handy. You were able to gain his trust, and we’ll gain immeasurable information for the defense of our people.”
On that strange internal wave-length she shared with Colin, she’d felt her mate’s distress, a mental anguish stretching far
beyond just the physical. She’d recognized the difference in him even before she’d gotten to the bar, before he’d gone from passionate lover to a dangerous, unknown threat. She’d been afraid of him, scared to stay long enough to find out what was wrong. Fearing what he might have done if she had. What snarled and writhed within Colin Terriot was not her mate. She’d run, leaving him to fight it alone. If anything happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. But if he’d done anything to harm her while under the control of whatever darkness Thorne had planted, her mate would never have survived the guilt. She couldn’t help him if he’d killed her. And she couldn’t risk being with him until she knew what was wrong. Thorne had the answers she needed.
“Gaining his trust means nothing if he’s dead!”
Thorne shrugged. “Get what you need from the other one. That pump’s already well primed.”
“He doesn’t have the same connections.” Mia gulped down her purely emotional objections and started to think with cold, necessary logic. If Thorne didn’t need her agenda, whose was he following? Her eyes narrowed. “Did Rueben approve this?”
“He can’t approve or decline that of which he is unaware. I believe that’s what we were counting on.”
“When were you planning to clue me in?”
“I believe that’s what I just did.” He sipped his drink, studying her through those pale, soulless eyes. A viper’s stare.
“Stop it. Stop it now.”
He never blinked at her low growl. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. That’s the beauty of this new product. There’s no going back once it’s found its way inside. He’ll spin out of control and yet be in our control. A rabid Terriot in the heart of the New Orleans clan. Think of the disastrous PR.”
“I was handling things!”
“He was handling you, my dear. There is a difference. Now things can get back on track. Enjoy him while you can and report back on his decline. I think we may have gone a little overboard with this first test, so I wouldn’t waste any time if I were you. He won’t have much.”
“You bastard.”
That slow, reptilian smile crept out as he watched her dash toward the door. Because there was nothing she could do to stop what was already in motion. Her succession to the Guedry hierarchy, whether she still wanted it or not.