Nevermore: Crossbreed series book 6

by Dannika Dark

“Crush is a one of a kind.”

  “Yeah, he’s a favorite among the packs. The guys really like him. He sticks up for his friends, and if you ever need anything, Crush is the first one there. He got into a fight with my dad once, and they stopped talking for a few months. When word got out that my dad lost all his money gambling, Crush was the first one who showed up at his doorstep. Not to shame him, but to pay the Packmaster what my father owed so he wouldn’t get kicked out of the pack. I guess Crush could relate to my dad on some level, so he helped him find counseling for his addiction.”

  I lowered my eyes, realizing how little I knew about the man who’d raised me. Crush had saved money for my future, sacrificing his own needs. When he thought I was gone, he used that money to help his friends. And here he was, living in a beat-up trailer with the same old furniture. The only new thing was the red pickup truck he’d bought after selling me his blue one. And even that truck wasn’t entirely new. It had a few years on it.

  “Do, um… do any of the packs ever help out my dad?”

  Switch took a seat and rested his arm on the table. “They try, but Crush won’t take handouts. He’s close with two packs in the territory: my old pack and Ren’s. Crush built that garage himself. Every few years, they try to talk him into letting them pave his driveway. My old Packmaster even offered to upgrade his trailer, but Crush wouldn’t have it. He’s a proud man.”

  “Stubborn.”

  “Runs in the family.”

  We met eyes, and just then a vehicle pulled into the driveway.

  Moments later, the door kicked open as loud as a shotgun, and Switch shielded his face with one arm when Crush reached around and grabbed him by the collar.

  “Get outta my house, boy!”

  “Wait, Daddy. That’s Switch.”

  “I know who the hell it is, but did I invite him in here?”

  He yanked Switch out of his chair, and even though Switch stood taller, Crush wasn’t intimidated. That was how he earned the nickname Bulldog. “You don’t enter a man’s house without his permission, especially when his little girl is home alone.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Suddenly I felt sixteen again, and the situation struck me as comical. “Let him go,” I insisted. “He knows everything.”

  “Good.” Crush shoved Switch in front of the open door and kicked him outside with his boot. “See you at the party tonight.” Then he slammed the door and nonchalantly took off his jacket.

  I strode over to the table and began folding my clothes. “You don’t think that was a little harsh?”

  “If he knew I was wrong, he’d be knocking on that door. A man who comes sniffing around another man’s house when he’s not home is after only one thing.”

  I chortled. “It’s not like that. Besides, it’s not like I can get pregnant. Those days are long gone.”

  When I looked up, I saw tears shining in Crush’s blue eyes. He reached out and pulled me into his arms. Crush kissed the top of my head at the sound of Switch’s motorcycle speeding away at full throttle.

  I’d never really wanted kids. When I chose to become immortal, I knew I’d be giving up that chance, and I was fine with it. Even now, I didn’t have any regrets until my father pulled me into his arms. It was only then that I realized there was another side to that story.

  I’d never give my father grandchildren.

  I choked back tears. Not for me but for him. I couldn’t imagine the depth of sorrow he must have felt knowing that his family line ended with me. No sons to carry on his name, no grandchildren to continue the line. I was the last Graves. Suddenly crippled with emotion, I buried my face in his chest, unable to look him in the eye.

  “They took that away from you,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He forced me to let go and held me at arm’s length. “What the hell do you have to be sorry about?”

  “That I can’t make you a grandpa.”

  Just saying the words out loud made me look away. The blows just kept coming with all the new ways I could hurt my father.

  “This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s about you too.”

  He gave me an incredulous look. “A woman doesn’t have babies for her father. If she chooses to have kids, it’s because she wants them.”

  “And I’m a bad person because I never wanted them.” I stepped back and collapsed in the chair, too emotionally spent to stand. “Even if I’d stayed human, I don’t think I would have ever had children unless it was by accident. But I never once considered how it would hurt you.”

  When Crush squatted in front of me, one of his knees popped. He put his hands over my legs and looked me square in the eye. “Do you really think I’m grandpa material? I could barely raise one kid without screwing her up. Every bad thing that’s ever happened to you, I blame myself for. I could have done better.”

  I essayed a smile and shook my head. “When did we become so sappy? I think we’ve had more crying sessions than a daytime soap opera.”

  Crush lowered his head before he looked up at me again. “Don’t regret your decisions because of me. If you ever want kids, you can adopt. Breed orphanages have plenty of beds that are filled up. But if kids aren’t your thing, don’t sweat it. Do you think I’m missing out on some kid looking at me like a crazy old man who just embarrasses him all the time? I don’t need to be a failure in anyone else’s eyes.”

  “Is that how you think I look at you?”

  “That’s the look you gave me when I showed up for your play in seventh grade. I was clean and sober by then but still managed to fuck it up royally.”

  I put my hands on top of his. “You were the only one who stood up and cheered when his kid walked onstage. Maybe I was embarrassed back then, but those moments are how I know you love me. I didn’t appreciate you enough, but I think we’ve covered that ground.”

  “Like a steamroller,” he agreed. “You up for a party tonight?”

  “Funny you should mention it, because I went shopping and we’re all stocked up on food.”

  “We’re gonna need a lot more than a few cans of beans. Come help me unload the truck. I bought enough meat to feed an army.”

  “Don’t you mean a pack?”

  He patted my knee and stood up. “Hope you’re ready to kick it Shifter style. We don’t party the same as we did in the old days.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I twirled my hair around my finger and summoned a smile. “You strip naked and dance around a bonfire?”

  He winked. “Something like that.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Just after sunset, I was hunkered down in the trailer, sitting in the shadows by the front door while listening to the party kick into gear.

  Crush was supervising two barbecue grills while simultaneously keeping everyone away from the trailer. “If you gotta piss, the woods are right there,” he said on more than one occasion.

  We didn’t have a plan. He wanted to wait until all the main people arrived, so I sat in darkness, listening to motorcycles pulling onto the property and raucous laughter. Bottles clinked together as they fished them out of an ice chest. Sometimes they just brought hard liquor and spiked their drinks, afraid that waving beer bottles around might be rubbing it in Crush’s face. At least that’s how it had been growing up. I’d been away for a long, long time. Over ten years now. What did I really know about his life?

  I thumped my head against the wall when another headlight beamed across the ceiling. “Hurry up,” I muttered quietly. “I’m getting hungry.”

  I jumped when the door swung open and Crush shuffled in. He cut straight to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers.

  “Have you seen my lighter stick?” he asked. “I need to light the firepit.”

  “Fun party?”

  “Ah, here it is.” He turned around with the long plastic lighter in his hand and wandered over, staring down at my spot on t
he floor. “What the hell are you doing down there?”

  “I was afraid if I walked by a window, someone might think I was a ghost. Can we get this over with? If anyone’s late, they don’t deserve to be at your party in the first place.”

  “You got that right,” he said, wagging his finger. Then he took a nervous breath and ran his hand down the front of his sweatshirt. “Do you want to put on a jacket? It’s getting nippy out there.”

  Crush had been working the grill, evident from the thick smell of mesquite wood wafting off his clothes. But he looked pretty dapper as far as bikers go. The black bandana tied over his head and knotted in the back kept his hair away from the food he was cooking, but what especially caught my eye was his shirt.

  “Turn around,” I said.

  He furrowed his brow. “Why?”

  When he turned, I couldn’t contain my laugh. Crush was wearing an old sweatshirt I’d given him that said BIKER DAD on the back.

  “I can’t believe you still have that old thing. I thought the moths would have eaten it up by now.”

  He grinned proudly, his silver tooth flashing when outside headlights briefly beamed in the room. “Best damn present I ever got. People are giving me funny looks about it.”

  “Why?”

  “I haven’t worn it in years. Not since… Well, you know.”

  “Have you lost weight since I last saw you? It used to look like you were hiding a baby in that thing.”

  He rubbed his hand over his stomach and squared his shoulders. “Gotta keep fit for the ladies.”

  “Help me up.” I held out my hand, and he pulled me to my feet. “Do you want to walk out together, or should I wait for an introduction? If I have to sit in here another minute, I’m going to eat all your ice cream and call it a night.”

  Crush chuckled. “Nice try, Cookie. But you don’t like pistachio.” He peered through the sheer curtain. “Give me a minute to round them up.”

  “Get moving, old man.” I tugged on his ponytail as he opened the door and went outside.

  It wasn’t until that moment that my heart quickened and I found it difficult to catch my breath. I was looking forward to seeing the gang again, but would they feel the same? If they didn’t resent me for skipping out on my father all those years ago, they might because I was a Mage. I didn’t plan on telling them about the Vampire part, especially without knowing how they felt about them. The last thing I wanted was for Crush to be shunned for something he couldn’t help. His friends were a big part of who he was, so I had to make a good impression and win them over again.

  “Can I have your attention,” he boomed just outside the door. “Turn the music off; I need you to come around.”

  The crowd murmured, and I heard wild speculation and flurries of laughter.

  “My hot dog’s getting cold,” someone complained.

  Crush replied in his usual no-nonsense way. “I’m all out of fucks to give. I have an announcement to make, and I need your undivided attention.”

  I swallowed hard, my ear pressed to the door.

  “Get on with it!” someone exclaimed.

  “Did you finally pick yourself out a wife?” a woman razzed, generating a few riotous laughs.

  “Bitch,” I muttered.

  “That would be one desperate woman,” a man tacked on.

  Crush cleared his throat. “Some of you asked what my old truck is doing back in the driveway. Yeah, I sold it. It’s not mine anymore, and no, I didn’t steal it back. There’s, uh… The owner is here and… she means the world to me, um… It’s a long story that, uh…”

  I couldn’t stand hearing him stumbling over his words in front of an audience, so I swung the door open to rescue him. “I’m not dead.”

  One guy’s beer bottle slipped right from his hand.

  The crowd of bearded men and dolled-up women stared at me, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

  I stood next to my tongue-tied father and rested my hands on the wood railing, with forty or so of his friends assembled below. “Crush didn’t know I was alive until recently, so he didn’t pull a fast one on anyone here. At the time I faked my death, I didn’t think I had any choice in the matter.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” someone spat out. That someone was Tank. Ladies described him as big, black, and beautiful. But he got that nickname because he was badass. Tank used to take care of me a lot when my father was drunk, so I saw him as an uncle. “You broke your old man’s heart, and you want us to believe it wasn’t a choice?”

  As the crowd turned on me, I knew why Crush had hesitated. His closest friends must have witnessed him go through hell and back after my supposed death.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” someone asked in rapid fire, questions rising to a clamor as the crowd lambasted me.

  I’d lost control of their attention, and as I scanned the leather-clad group—some holding beers and others red plastic cups—I realized how little they’d changed. How long did Crush believe he could have kept the Breed world a secret from me? It wouldn’t have been long before I noticed the only one aging was my father.

  The crowd parted and simmered down when Ren approached from the back. Ren was Crush’s best friend, and I remembered him as an older guy. But now looking at him, he didn’t seem so old. He had a face that was difficult to pin an age on. Lines etched his forehead, a few light hairs peppered his short beard, and tattoos cloaked his arms like sleeves. Ren was the epitome of badass and biker all blended into one. In Shifter years, there was no telling how old he was, but he looked forty.

  When he reached the front, he cast a critical eye at me. “What reason trumps putting your father through a funeral?”

  I gripped the rail and kept my voice steady. “Extenuating circumstances not up for discussion in front of the group. Or should I call this… a pack?”

  Everyone looked among one another.

  Crush put his arm around me and pulled me so close to him that the air squeezed right out of my lungs. “Most of you have known Raven all her life. You’re the only family she’s ever had. I shielded her from your world for as long as I could, but she found her own way in.” He took a deep breath. “Raven’s Breed now.”

  I could feel everyone’s eyes on me even though I kept staring at the lighter in Crush’s other hand.

  “Some bad shit happened,” he went on. “And I’m looking each of you dead in the eye and telling you that I don’t want anyone here asking her about it. If she wants to talk, she’ll talk. I’ve kept a lot of secrets from her, but she had the balls to come back and tell it straight. What’s done is done, and she’s not to blame. Raven cut ties with me because she didn’t have a choice. You all know the policy. Had I been honest with her from the beginning, she would’ve been home a long time ago.”

  That last part he sounded a little unsure of, so I gave him a squeeze and a look of reassurance.

  “So she knows about us?” someone asked. “What we are?”

  “Jackasses?” I answered. “I knew that all along.”

  Laughter broke up the tension.

  “I’m guessing most of you are wolves,” I continued. “It makes sense now, but I don’t know how you went all this time without letting it slip.”

  One guy who went by the name Tire set his bottle on the ground. “Finally! I don’t have to wear these damn clothes.” In a swift movement, he shifted into a wolf.

  Crush let go of me and leaned over the railing, pointing at Tire’s wolf with his lighter. “Someone tie his ass up in the garage. Nobody shifts around Raven unless Ren supervises the introduction, and I don’t know if that’s gonna happen.”

  Ren folded his arms. “Why’s that? Is your little girl too good to hang out with my boys?”

  “Hell yeah,” Crush said, descending the steps.

  Both men confronted each other and laughed, pulling into a tight hug. Ren clapped him on the back and squeezed hard, whispering something in his ear.

  When I followed behind Crush, Ren approached me and grip
ped my shoulders.

  “Girl, you look like a mess. Isn’t he feeding you?” Ren gave me a hug, but his was considerably gentler. His voice softened, meant only for me. “We missed you, Raven. I’m sure you’ve got a long story to tell, and if you ever want to talk, I’m here. And if my packmates give you a hard time, let me know.”

  The hair on my arms stood on end. I looked closely in his brown eyes. “You’re an alpha, aren’t you?”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile. The way everyone instantly accepted me was answer enough. Ren held authority over this group that had more to do with rank than friendship.

  As he moved away, the crowd swarmed me. Some gave me pats on the shoulder and others a welcoming hug.

  I turned in a semicircle, looking among the sea of beards and bad fashion choices. I had something else to settle regarding the people who had heckled my father. I could have ignored it, but I knew these guys. They would have talked about it later, and I didn’t want my father to be the butt of anyone’s jokes. “Who was the bitch making the jokes about my daddy when he was giving his speech?”

  A few men regarded me, eyebrows arched high.

  “That’d be me,” a blonde said, strutting into view.

  I’d never met this one before, so I stepped up and matched her height. “What’s your name?”

  “Lilah.”

  “Is there something amusing about his marital status?”

  She pursed her hot-pink lips and jutted her hip out. “Everyone knows Crush is a wallflower.”

  I tightened my gaze. “That’s my daddy you’re talking about. If he’s not married, it’s because there isn’t a woman out there good enough for him. And if you think anyone’s going to consider you a catch after mocking a good man like Crush, then you picked the wrong day to put on those red pumps. Don’t ever mock my father again. Are we clear?”

  She sighed, and her small mouth turned up in a smile. “You’re just like your old man. Good to finally meet you, Raven. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I looked around. “Who’s the guy that made the wisecrack right after Lilah?”

  A husky man stepped forward, a bandana secured around his head and his square jaw full of whiskers. “That would be me.”