by Dana Archer
“Uri is my eyes. I can’t function without him.” Ezra rests his forehead to mine. “Yet. I’m determined to learn to live without him, but I’m not there yet.”
Strong hands at my waist pull me from Ezra’s embrace. I glance over my shoulder at Uri’s stony features, but he’s not looking at me. His gaze is locked with his twin’s. “And until you can, I will fulfill my promise to you. No one will sway me from my vow. It doesn’t matter who or what they are to me. This I swear to you.”
Ezra’s long-drawn-out sigh slumps his shoulders. He focuses on me, no fingertips dancing across my face this time, and the sadness radiating from him spreads an ache in my chest. I swallow against the lump in my throat and look at Uri. He’s watching me too, but instead of solemnness, a hard glint of determination greets me. The butterflies that had danced in my belly moments ago drop like a rock.
Uri’s going to dismiss me and ignore this thing between us—the thing I allowed and he didn’t stop.
Had Ezra not said I belong to Uri, I might’ve accepted Uri’s brush-off. It wouldn’t have been the first time a guy hasn’t felt the same way I do. Pity for him. Hurting me won’t send me slinking away. Not this time. Not without exploring this thing between me and Uri. It doesn’t matter how much Uri messes with my head. I’ve been screwed over so many times in my life, nothing Uri can do will bother me. Except maybe leaving me. That might push me to the edge. And that is not an outcome I will accept without a fight.
Eight
Uri
Ezra’s look of regret stirs all my dark thoughts, and with my soul merged with his so I can act as his eyes, there’s no hiding them.
Even if you could hide your emotions, I’d be able to figure out the truth on my own. It’s as clear as day even to a blind man. Ezra pointedly glances at Lyla before meeting my gaze. Lyla is your true mate. I can feel her aura reaching for yours as if her soul recognizes yours. Needs it. Needs you.
Ezra’s statement rips a low growl from my throat. I slam a metaphysical wall between our souls and step away instead of asking how he can feel Lyla’s aura reaching for mine when I can’t. I don’t want to deal with any of this tonight. It’d be too easy to forego actuality and believe the phenomenon Ezra described. In reality, it’s my own foolish actions that’s left Lyla craving me.
I never should’ve shared air with the woman. I’ve led her on. Screwed with her head and her soul.
My twin snatches my arm and jerks me back. “Don’t you leave me in the dark, you selfish asshole. You’re the one who demanded I come out here with you.”
Lyla takes my hand, twining her fingers with mine and tugging until I focus on her. “Did you find the guy who hurt me?”
At the reminder of the injuries Lyla sustained, saliva fills my mouth, and the urge demanding I lick the wounds I smell but can’t see grows into an irresistible compulsion. Obviously, she’s not too badly hurt. She’s standing here, appearing unharmed for everyone in the bar. She couldn’t pull that off if she was injured severely. Still, she’s bleeding. That’s unacceptable.
I pull Lyla against me, her softness to my hardness, and lower my head to hers. “Where are you hurt?”
“It’s just a few scratches. I’m fine. The man? You didn’t find him, did you?”
“No. There was nobody back there, and the only scents Uri picked up on belonged to women, one similar to us and one like you. Uri debated exploring the alley, but my twin didn’t want to leave us alone in here.” Ezra answers Lyla’s question for me, proving just how close of a bond we share when our souls are merged and how quickly and effortlessly Ezra can rifle through my thoughts.
Lyla pulls back. “Then we should go looking for him together. I think he might be one of the newcomers to the city. He talked about Bryon too.”
The incessant nudging against my soul since I slammed the wall between us turns into a deliberate attack. Bringing my twin was a mistake. I couldn’t lie to him, though. It wasn’t work that sent me chasing Lyla down. Jealousy, maybe? I’m not sure. All I know is that if she would’ve answered my text, I wouldn’t have been here to save Lyla. Again.
“Stop ignoring me.”
The growl to Ezra’s words hints at more than him not being used to speaking as a human. He’s pissed. So am I. At myself. At the world. And at Lyla. My twin doesn’t deserve it, though. I’m the one who dragged him out here. He didn’t want to come, and I didn’t want to leave him in his jaguar form all night. “What, Ezra?”
“Sit me over in the corner with a few bottles of beer and go take care of Lyla. I can taste her pain on my tongue. She needs you.” Ezra fists my shirt and yanks me closer, his familiar features inches from mine. “Besides I need to practice functioning in this world by myself. Right, brother? That’s been the goal all along. No better time than the present.”
The urge to glance at Lyla to see what she thinks of Ezra’s words is strong, but I won’t break my twin’s gaze. He’ll feel the slight disturbance in the air currents if I turn my head. “Remember my vow to you. I won’t break it. You take as long as you need to function on your own. I’ll be here for you.”
“Good. Then let’s look at Lyla. Together. Right now.”
The moment I merge with Ezra, letting him view the world through my eyes, he’ll feel everything I do. My innermost thoughts will be open to him. So will my regret. And I’m not sure if being unable to explore this connection with Lyla is the reason for it or if it’s wishing I could end my obligation to my twin tonight and let him deal with his issues on his own that’s the source of my guilt.
“Lager or ale?” The defeat in my voice makes me sound weak, but I have no other option. I can’t allow Ezra to share my vision with my thoughts being as conflicted as they are.
Ezra laughs. “A few bottles of both. Throw in a couple of IPAs too. I have a feeling I’ll be waiting awhile for you to return.”
“Not long. Lyla and I are just going to talk about what happened and—”
“Lyla?” Ezra holds his hand out. “Will you walk with me over to that table you wanted us to sit at earlier?”
“Of course.” Lyla takes Ezra’s hand, leaving me standing there alone, and leads my twin to the very far corner of the bar.
She pulls a chair out for Ezra and laughs at something he says to her. If I wanted, I could listen in on what they’re saying. I’d rather this night be over, but that’s not going to happen. Lyla needs a chaperone to get her safely home, and I…
I need to permanently lay claim to this woman before she gets herself killed.
Nine
Lyla
With the key to the pool room in my hand and the slip of paper with Abby’s cell number in my pocket, I stride forward. Uri will follow. If I give him the chance, he’ll likely lecture me on coming out here and putting myself in a position where I could get hurt.
I don’t plan on giving him the opportunity to reprimand me.
A sharp twist of my wrist turns the key, but Uri’s large hand engulfs mine and stops me from opening the door. He pulls my fingers back, pries the key free, and stashes it in his pocket. “Never open a door when you don’t know what might be on the other side.”
Yep. I’m in for a long lecture…if I allow it.
On a slow pivot, I put the door at my back and tip my head to look into Uri’s face. Haughtiness has him scowling and looking down his nose at me.
No way. If Uri thinks I’ll cower and accept his chastisement, he hasn’t been around enough strong women. “What? Would you rather I stay home where I’m completely safe while people die in the streets?”
Uri pulls back slightly. “That’s an exaggerated statement, but yes, actually. I’d rather you stay at home. At least there, you’re with two fully trained Sh—Specialized Affairs agents.”
“I’m an agent too, don’t forget.” I step forward, closing the small distance Uri put between us. “I have the badge to prove it.”
“Agent in training, maybe.”
Another laugh escapes me. “There i
s no such thing. Once you sign on, you’re treated the same as everyone else.”
Uri bends his head to mine, proving just how flexible he is and unintentionally sparking ideas of how I can take advantage of his shifter genetics. And his stamina.
“Yeah?” His voice takes on a conceited quality. “Is that why your gun didn’t have any bullets in it last night?”
Pain radiates along my jaw. I ease the clenching and leer at him. “Maybe if my mentor hadn’t slacked in his duties, I’d have finished the training exercise required to get bullets issued to me. Unfortunately, the agent assigned to me doesn’t even want to mentor me, let alone make sure I have the proper skills and tools necessary to do my job. If he”—I air quote the word in Uri’s face—“had taken his assignment seriously, I wouldn’t have needed to be saved.”
“Is talking about me in third person supposed to have some special meaning or effect?” Uri raises a brow. “Because I’m not sure what your intention is supposed to be other than making you sound like a silly girl.”
A sharp inhale fills my lungs with Uri’s scent. It doesn’t soothe me this time. It pisses me off. Or maybe that’s the reaction his snotty statement has on me. I can’t tell, but I know what it’s done. I would call this:
Game. On.
I grab a fistful of Uri’s shirt, twisting the fabric and yanking him close. “And if you think calling me a silly girl will prove your superiority, you’ll—”
“I am superior to you.” Uri shrugs. “That’s not up for debate.”
He couldn’t have given a more perfect response. I sneer at him, letting my own brand of superiority show through. Uri’s brows pinch.
“You are superior, aren’t you? Stronger, healthier, better able to adjust to certain situations. It’s almost as if you’re the epitome of perfection, and being the superior person, you deserve to be treated as such.” Blinking wide, hopefully innocent eyes at him, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop a grin from widening. “Right, Uriel?”
“I told you to call me Uri.”
Without releasing my fisted grip on Uri’s shirt, I curl my free hand around the back of his neck and bring my lips to his. I draw in a breath, but nothing magical happens. There’s no sensation of sharing my soul with Uri. I don’t feel a second heartbeat echoing within me. And the only voices in my head are my own.
No matter how much Uri wants to deny or blame it on me, he’s the one responsible for opening the connection between us and showing me what true strength looks like. After going through my life feeling like someone’s prey, I don’t want to give up that sense of utter power. Or completeness. Now that I’ve experienced how perfectly perfect Uri’s soul meshes with mine, I don’t like the bleakness without him.
Or the weakness.
“Why is that, Uriel? Why should I call you by a name you reserve for important people when I’m obviously not special? Actually, I’m lesser. That’s what happens when one person is superior, then everyone around them is lesser. Not as worthy.”
The grinding of teeth warns me to ease away from the predator in my grasp before he strikes. I curl my fingers at the back of Uri’s neck instead, pressing my blunt nails into his skin and holding him in place.
“Enough, Lyla. You will call me Uri, and you won’t question me as to why.”
“Do all the women in your life bow their heads when you speak and immediately do your bidding? Or is that response only expected from those you consider less worthy?”
“I never said you weren’t worthy. Do not put words in my mouth.”
Uri’s warm exhale heats my body, but it doesn’t leave me lightheaded. It doesn’t give me the intimate peek into Uri’s soul. It just makes me ache to feel this special bond we share. “But you did. You said—”
“I. Did. Not.” Uri settles his hands at my waist, lifts me, and sets me as far away from him as the closed door at my back allows. Then he steps back, my grip on his shirt the only thing joining us. “Insinuating I made such a claim is a pathetic attempt to rile me, and it won’t work.”
Caught. Eh…no matter. Even a setback can be used to bring a goal closer, if it’s played right.
“Uri is the name you reserve for those important to you. That’s what you told Eddie last night.” I search Uri’s expression, looking for some indication my statement hit its mark. Uri’s unwavering arrogant features could’ve been carved from stone. “If you’re superior to me, I’m not—”
“Like me. That’s it. You don’t have the same ancestry I do. Nor do you have the same abilities.” Uri pulls his shirt free and takes another step back, letting my hand fall. “And considering we’re feet from a nearly full bar, that’s the best way I can describe our differences. You know that’s why I chose that particular word. Don’t pretend like you don’t understand the need to censor things. I watched you do so effortlessly last night. As if keeping secrets was second nature.”
“It has to be.” That’s been drilled into me enough. It might even be a psychological compulsion, maybe some form of mind-altering that’s reinforced every time I see the agency shrink. I don’t even think about censoring my words. When I’m in public, I just do.
Uri gives a sharp nod. “Exactly what I thought. So this is just another game of yours. You’re trying to play with my instincts like you did back in your cubicle. I told you then, and I’ll warn you again, I am not a man who will react the way you expect to manipulation.”
And that makes Uri all the more intriguing.
“That sounds more like a challenge than a warning.”
Uri shrugs. “Take it how you will, but be very careful with how you proceed or you might not like the consequences of your actions.”
I let my gaze roam over him, feet to face and every inch in between. Unlike during the encounter in my cube, however, Uri’s not aroused.
My shoulders droop, and the desire to slink away is strong. That’s what Uri wants, though. He all but told me his intentions in the odd exchange he had with his blind twin. That wasn’t the only thing I learned from the exchange with Ezra, however.
I belong to Uri.
With my hands linked in front of me, pressing into my burning stomach, I prop my body against the wooden door. “If you don’t like my game, then why are we back here? We could talk on the walk back to my car or in the office tomorrow. Obviously, tonight’s a dud. The guy who chased me is long gone, and the woman I came to see isn’t here either. There’s no point of staying out longer.”
“Because I want—”
“If you want to lecture me, you can save your breath.” I cut him off as he’s done to me tonight, giving him a little tit for tat. “I don’t want to hear it. If and only if you decide to act as my mentor, will I listen to your words of advice. Until then, I’ll trust in my ability to keep myself alive. I’ve been doing just fine on my own for over three decades.”
“No, it wasn’t your ability to keep yourself alive that allowed you to reach your thirties. It was fear.”
Out of all the things Uri has said to me, this statement has to be the strangest. “What?”
Uri skims a finger over my tight shoulders, then along my downturned brows. “You want to back away, don’t you? Run, maybe? Or at least distance yourself from my statement because it’s one you don’t understand.”
Yes, yes, and yes. I’m supposed to be the one controlling this conversation. I should be leaving Uri unsettled and confused so he acts on his instincts, not the other way around.
One corner of Uri’s mouth rises. It’s not a smile. It’s not a smirk either. I’m not sure what to call it other than a sign Uri thinks he’s winning. He dips his chin, looking down his nose at me. “Don’t feel bad, Lyla. It’s a prey animal’s response. You can’t help it.”
“I do not walk through life afraid of everything.” Just when I feel threatened or unsure. But that’s not all the time. “Your theory is full of holes.”
“I was merely commenting on your response to my words. They confused you, so your first instinc
t was a prey’s response, to put distance between you and the threat, whatever that threat might be.” Uri shakes his head, but it’s that haughty glint in his eyes that narrows mine. “And it’s that same response from those around you that has kept you safe.”
Hands balled, I fight the urge to scream at Uri. “You are not making sense.”
“Those who might’ve hurt you didn’t because they were too afraid of what might happen to them if they did.”
“Afraid to hurt me?” I can’t hide the confusion. I hear it in my voice. No doubt it’s painted on my face too. “But criminals don’t care about breaking the law. That’s what makes them criminals.”
“Exactly.” Uri opens the door.
I stumble backward. Uri’s firm shove against my chest pushes me farther into the darkened room. The door closes, cutting off the light from the hallway. Unlike in the poker room, however, neon bar signs stave off the utter darkness. I almost wish it was pitch black. With the strip of red light highlighting Uri’s features, I can’t stop my heart from racing.
I’m in the presence of a predator. A true predator, not the pathetic shifter who hurt me earlier tonight. Uri’s primitive nature defines him, transforming the stoic agent into a hunter.
Lust settles low, even as my palms dampen. I rub them against my thighs and back up with each step Uri takes toward me until my back end hits the edge of a pool table. “Exactly? What is that supposed to mean? You’re not making sense. If you have a point to make, do so. In plain English.”
“There are hunters on these streets.” Uri rounds the pool table instead of crowding me against it. He stops on the opposite end and splays his hands on the bumper. “Males like me. Males who can kill without an ounce of guilt. You know some of them, don’t you?”
I glance over my shoulder. The door leading to the hallway isn’t blocked. I might be able to fling it open before Uri stops me. And if I run, I prove him right.