by Dana Archer
Silence stretches with an anticipation that echoes in my bones. This version of our beginnings is one I’ve never heard. Granted, I’ve lived in isolation with my twin for centuries, and we rarely saw anyone. Even if we did, I can’t imagine this topic would ever come up in conversation.
Finally, Kade cracks his jaw. “I’ve never heard such a tale. Likely, Bryon’s made up the story or possibly confused his facts. He is known to be unstable.”
Izzy shakes her head. “He’s not unstable. He’s just dangerous, and he knows it.”
“Unstable people are dangerous.” Which is why I have to be careful to keep my rage in check. The blood I spilled once I learned my twin’s eyesight was permanently lost stained the village of those who damned him to the darkness red. And silent. The only difference between me and Bryon is that I allowed the women and children to run.
Izzy focuses on me. “I’ve slept with Bryon. Many times. I’ve felt the darkness he holds, a dangerous well of power I can’t begin to comprehend. It simmers just below the surface, angry and waiting.”
The rumors about Bryon dabbling in dark magic have followed him for centuries. Those villagers I slaughtered caught him in the act, or so they said. They condemned him to die for it. He would’ve too, had I not saved him, and if he’d died, Ezra would be able to see today.
But I did save Bryon.
“Things happen for a reason. That includes failure. Sometimes we have to learn from our mistakes.”
Lyla’s words from earlier tonight flit through my mind, offering me a lifeline from the debilitating guilt. Part of me wants to turn my back on Lyla’s salvation. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her.
But I do have Lyla.
And…I don’t want to lose her. Ever.
The thought settles over me and coaxes forth that part of me driven by my most primitive instincts. I shift my gaze to my true mate. That’s what Lyla is to me. She’s my heaven. I don’t deserve her. I know it. Deep down, I know it.
Lyla meets my stare. Her lips part on an exhale that strengthens her, adding a force to her willful stare, even as her posture relaxes.
Something clicks. Something I can’t name. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, though. This thing between us will only end one way.
Lyla will share my soul.
“Rumor has it Bryon’s bonded to the demon he conjured ages ago.” Kade delivers the gossip our kind has only shared in whispered confessions for fear of bringing death to their doorstep. It’s also the gossip Kade admitted to not believing. “And they say those he’s touched are damned.”
“Do they now? Maybe that’s why my life’s been so flipping pleasant. Guess that’s what happens when you’ve been tossed out like somebody’s garbage and forced to fend for yourself.”
Izzy’s mocking, sarcastic voice is the kind that’d normally result in Kade’s glare directed at them. Kade doesn’t react as expected, though. He studies some spot on the floorboards. “What term do you use to describe yourself, Izzy Gomez Alexander? Tell me, and I will use it.”
Kade’s question comes out of the blue, striking a heavy silence in the car. Finally, Izzy clears her throat. “And you promise to guard my secret as a pride mate would?”
“I promise to protect and guide you as I would any pride mate. That’s the best I can offer. The Alexanders don’t harbor criminals.”
“Fine. Call me”—Izzy leans forward and tosses the unlocked handcuffs onto my lap—“Agent Alexander, Shifter Affairs Special Ops.”
Lyla’s sharp inhale matches my surprise, but honestly, I’m not all that shocked. Izzy is an Alexander. “Agent Isadora Alexander or Agent Isadora or Agent Izzy. I’ve already claimed Agent Alexander.”
Kade’s chuckle smacks my words back at me. “As your alpha, I’m the only one who should go by the term Agent Alexander.”
“I’ve already established myself.”
“And I’m the first enrolled with Shifter Affairs. Seriously, we can play this game all night, but while we’re screwing off, someone’s dying,” Izzy shoots back. “I shouldn’t have tried to keep my role secret, but that is part of the job—undercover and assimilated into my identity. And I’m so close to cracking this case.”
“Now your cover’s blown. At least to us. So tell us what you know, and together, let’s save someone from dying tonight.” Rick jerks the wheel, sending the car across the grass barrier running between the two sides of the highway before pulling out onto the road leading back into the city, then steps on the gas, pushing the needle well past the speed limit.
I turn my study to the backseat instead of reminding Rick speeding is a crime. Lyla’s gaze snatches mine. The rightness is still there in her golden depths. So is the lure to crawl inside her—body and soul—and luxuriate in heaven.
No more fighting it. No more denying it.
Lyla will share my soul. Permanently.
And nothing will stop me from claiming her. Not my obligations to Ezra. Not my pledge to Shifter Affairs. Not my past. Nothing. I’ll find a way to meet all my commitments without losing Lyla.
I’m an Alexander. And Alexanders don’t walk away from a fight. Or a chance at heaven on earth. Sometimes we just take the long way home.
Fifteen
Uri
The atmosphere of the streets changes once people slink off to wherever they’re spending the night. It’s more than the quiet that descends. It’s as if something else wakes and moves among those sleeping and hunkered down until morning. And it’s hungry.
“The devil’s hour.” My thought is on my lips without me realizing I’ve spoken out loud.
“When evil walks among the living, and humans feel the kiss of death.”
Izzy’s voice comes quietly, almost respectfully, from where she’s standing next to me. With Lyla on my other side, both females I’ve been entrusted with are in the best positions for me to act as protector. It’s not ideal, but neither is this situation. We’ve been prowling the streets for hours—Kade and Rick in another section of the city—and haven’t found the older single shifter Izzy says has been dealing this blood-tainted version of Elixir to the residents of this city.
“And sometimes humans don’t wake from their brush with death.” At least that’s the tale the long-gone villagers who were willing to hang Bryon believed. “They become payment.”
“To who?” Lyla turns her head to look at me with a curious expression of disbelief. “And for what?”
“Evil, and for whatever it’s been summoned for.” The slight distance she puts between us, leaning backward, speaks of her confusion without her having to voice it. The urge to counter her fear is powerful. It’s also what true mates do for each other. They comfort. They love. They support. Lyla will get all those things from me.
In this case, I know exactly what will ease Lyla—facts. Or at least the details those who believe in such things hold as facts. Since I’m living proof of the supernatural, I do believe. “Witches and warlocks call evil forth when the moon is highest for whatever ceremony or spell they’re doing, and if they can’t contain what they’ve summoned, it escapes and takes as many of the living back with it before the sun rises and forces it to recede.”
Lyla edges closer to me, eliminating the space she put between us, and brushes her hand against mine, not taking it or linking our fingers, but touching me as if she needs the reassurance of my presence. “But if they can contain it? Does it go back empty-handed?”
“They never go back empty-handed.” Izzy responds before I can. “If the one calling it forth is strong, their offerings are enough.”
“You learned that from Bryon?” And if the rumors about his past are correct, he’d know better than anyone what’s needed to appease evil.
“Anything I didn’t learn from Shif—” Izzy scowls, likely at the slip she almost made, and steps away from the section of the wall where we’ve been waiting for the late-night bus. “I mean, anything I didn’t learn from Specialized Affairs, I learned from Bryo
n. And, honestly, most of what’s kept me alive in these streets came from Bryon, not Specialized Affairs. They declared me trained after I spent time with my mentor and assigned me a case. I’ve been undercover ever since.”
Lyla moves behind Izzy and lowers her voice. “What’s your case?”
“My case isn’t blown. Only my identity in this town is compromised. I’ll move elsewhere and start over. As you pointed out in the car, I do have unlimited time to devote to this case. I only came here because…” She shrugs. “Because here’s as good a place as any to sell my body. I have family nearby.”
“Understood.” Lyla rests her hand on Izzy’s arm, then waits until Izzy glances at her. “But I have a cell number. Anytime you need a friend, I’m just a call away.”
Izzy smiles. She taps a balled fist to her chest. “The part of me that makes me like Uri is what drew me to you back then. You felt different from the other kids. Like family.”
“We were practically sisters.” Lyla laughs. “Only I’m short and blonde, and you’re tall and exotic. I think I remember introducing you as my sister too.”
“You did.” Izzy squeezes Lyla’s hand. “I loved that you claimed me as someone important to you. It made me feel not as lonely, even in our crowd of friends.”
“Speaking of friends…” Lyla’s eyebrows rise. “Do you remember Abby?”
Izzy nods slowly. “The sad girl? Yeah, I remember her.”
A frown pulls at Lyla’s mouth. “I never thought of Abby that way, but it fits. Anyway, she’s back in the city. I ran into her the other day. Says she’s moved home. We should meet up with her before you head out to wherever you’re going next.”
After a moment, Izzy shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good—”
A sense of danger washes over me at the same time Izzy grabs Lyla’s arm and tugs Lyla behind her. I reach back, linking my fingers with Lyla’s, and let the details my felines’ senses picked up filter through me. A Royal feline is close. Its scent drifts on the air with a touch of twisted power. I don’t know how else to describe the taint.
The pitiful sounds of a woman crying reach me next.
My gaze zeroes in on the small alley where Lyla and I came together yesterday. A flash of light illuminates the darkness at the mouth of the alley, giving me a glimpse of a woman on her knees with a lighter in her hands. She resembles the older woman who stared at Lyla earlier in the night. Only this time, lines of makeup streak her cheeks running from her eyes to her jaw.
On a sob, she flicks the lighter while the light illuminating her cuts. A whooping sound only my shifter genetics allows me to pick out comes next, followed by dozens of sparks, and finally, a whoosh as flames engulf the entrance of the alley.
A horrid, gut-wrenching scream cuts through the night a moment later.
“She’s on fire,” Izzy whispers before she bolts toward the burning woman.
With my fingers laced with Lyla’s, I tug her forward. No way will I repeat the mistake I made yesterday. I won’t ever leave Lyla alone to greet danger. We face it together.
“Oh God, oh God,” Lyla mumbles under her breath as the scent of gasoline and burning flesh chokes the air.
Izzy reaches the alley just as the burning woman stumbles out of the opening. Screaming, she holds her stomach as flames crawl up her arms. Izzy scoots around her, not even trying to help, and takes off down the alley.
“No, no, no!” Lyla shakes off my hold and runs full out. “Drop, Mom! Drop and roll, dammit!”
Mom.
The meaning registers. This is Lyla’s mother, the woman who was willing to trade her daughter for drugs. The primitive surge of emotions choking me isn’t appropriate. The human side of me knows that. I can’t let this woman burn to death, no matter what crimes she’s committed in the past. Darn if it isn’t tempting, though.
“Get back.” I push Lyla away before she reaches for the shrieking woman, and shove Lyla’s mother to the ground.
Lyla tosses her jacket on the woman, and I roll her, smacking at her burning clothes and hair. Her screams stop as the flames are snuffed out. Her movement does too. I know why before I even unwrap the woman from Lyla’s jacket. My cats felt her life fade with the last beat of her heart.
With my palm on the woman’s back, right between her shoulder blades, I hang my head and say a prayer for this human who sold her own flesh and blood into sexual slavery. Let her god decide her eternal fate now, because if my goddess gets ahold of her soul, this woman will learn the meaning of eternal suffering. I don’t doubt that for a second.
Lyla pushes at my arm just as sirens cut through the night. “Move, Uri.”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s too late. Her heart stopped.”
Lyla throws her shoulder into mine, catching me off guard and knocking me back. She rolls her mother’s body, exposing the deep burns. The sight of the damage doesn’t deter Lyla. She presses the heel of her hand to the center of the woman’s chest. With the weight of her upper body, Lyla uses her other hand to compress the dead woman’s chest. “Then I’ll restart it.”
It won’t do any good. The female’s soul is gone, her light snuffed out along with her aura. Only a husk remains. There’s no saving her. Yet I hesitate. There’s no sadness, no pain, and no frustration on Lyla’s face. Determination burns through.
“Lyla, stop.” Izzy hunkers down next to her and grabs Lyla’s arm, but doesn’t pull her away from the dead body. “Your mom is gone. Truly gone. You can’t bring her back.”
“Izzy’s right, baby.” I turn Lyla toward me. “Your mom’s no longer on this realm. She’s moved on.”
Lyla stares at me. She opens her mouth. No words come out. A rough sound does. It’s the kind born of soul-deep pain no one should ever experience but everyone does at some point in their life.
Death is always harder on those left behind.
Any immortal who’s watched friends and strangers meet their ends will say the same thing. The dead move on, whether it’s to a new life or an eternal place in heaven, and everyone else has to deal with what’s left behind.
Her tears well. She studies me for a moment as if waiting for something. Maybe for me to tell her I’m only kidding? I’m not sure.
Lyla’s upper lip trembles as the silence stretches. Her tears spill over. She turns toward Izzy, who opens her arms. Lyla throws herself against my young pride mate. Sobs shake Lyla’s body. She clings tighter to Izzy as she rubs Lyla’s back and whispers a calming promise that everything is going to be okay.
Comfort. That’s what my true mate wanted from me. That’s what she waited for me to offer. I didn’t give it to her just as I didn’t give it to her back in the car when she told me about her childhood. I focused on me and my self-hate.
I step back as my anger stirs the self-loathing that’s clouded my life since Ezra lost his sight.
I should’ve done this, not that… I didn’t think about the consequences… It should’ve been me who faced eternity in the dark… The thoughts I’ve fed for years dance across my mind. On an exhale, I let them fade. Truth is, I was a fool. It’s never been about what I did or should’ve done. It’s been about what I do now to deal with the consequences of life.
Flashing lights dance over me, casting Lyla and Izzy in a bright wash of color as if they were angels, fallen but not broken. They hold each other up.
I step forward just as Rick demands to know what happened. I wave him off. Izzy can tell him.
“Lyla, baby, come here.” I lift my true mate from Izzy’s arms. A hint of confusion shows before she latches on to me, burying her face in my chest and crying harder.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” I hold her close, resting my cheek on her head, the silky strands of her hair catching in the stubble of my beard. Then I breathe. Just breathe. Lyla’s scent fills my lungs, offering me a strength no other woman can offer me.
Kade steps next to us. “Why don’t you get Lyla home? Take the car. It’s closer. Rick’ll drive y
our truck back, and I’ve called for another car and the cleanup crew. The scent lingering here is unmistakable. One of us.”
A Royal feline. I don’t need Kade to point that out. The unique scent mix of lion, tiger, and jaguar is unmistakable. While I can’t picture this shifter who killed Lyla’s mother, this scent is one my cats will remember. When they latch on to it again, they’ll hunt.
Easing the shield around my mind, I open the same pathway Ezra uses when he’s borrowing my vision, and I reach out to Kade. There’s nothing left to hide from my alpha. My twin, on the other hand, I have to block at every opportunity. “We need to find him and whoever’s working with the Royal. This wasn’t a random kill. He waited until Lyla was watching to deliver his message. It’s not one I want repeated.”
“You’re thinking they’ll come after Sam next?”
“Yes. And it’ll kill Lyla to lose her sister.”
“Understood.” Kade hits the automatic start button for the car, then replaces the car’s key with my truck’s key in my pocket. “We’ll collect what evidence there is to be found here and also back at Lyla’s mother’s place, then we’ll meet up later.”
“Arrange for another coroner to conduct this autopsy. Lyla shouldn’t have to do it. Not on her mother.”
“Done. I’ll get Ella involved. We’ll take care of it.”
Kade cuts the intimate path between us as a couple of black vans turn the corner. The cleanup crew has arrived. Now only my task awaits me, and it’s doubly challenging.
Both my true mate and her sister need comfort I’m not sure how to give. No matter. I’ll figure it out.
Sixteen
Lyla
The range of emotions I’ve experienced since realizing it was my mom burning isn’t something I want to acknowledge out loud. Thankfully, the quiet shifter driving me home hasn’t asked for them. Likely, Uri won’t. He didn’t seem too interested in my emotions back when I explained about my shitty past. He came to his conclusion about what happened to Sam hurting me and that was it. No sympathy, no comfort. I shouldn’t expect any now. And, honestly, I’m okay with that. If I didn’t have to deal with these emotions, I wouldn’t. Why should anyone else? Especially Uri. He’s got his own issues to deal with.