by D. C. Stone
Bari sat back and tried to take it all in. One question sat on the tip of his tongue and was the most extreme of them all. Extreme, because Bari figured this was what his father was. There was no other explanation for what he saw. “If that’s the case, then how do Justice Demons turn evil? Did you know my father?”
Tyler was quiet for so long Bari didn’t think he was going to answer. The houses became familiar, streets recognizable. “I did and do, Bari. What you must remember is what I said. No two are ever alike. You choose your own destiny; it isn’t mapped out for you. You’ll understand soon enough. And soon I’ll explain how some turn evil.”
They turned on to the last street, and Bari pushed the topic from his mind. “What are we doing here?” The house rose up in front of them, faster than Bari would have liked. A familiar three-story colonial sat at the end of the road, its wooden beams holding up a white house, highlighting it. Inside he knew it held eight rooms and more than enough space for grand parties. The back of the house faced off to the ocean, a dock leading the way down the rocky shore. It held memories cherished and ones he longed to forget.
“I know what you fear, bro.” Tyler pulled into the driveway and parked. The sound of the engine shutting off boomed in Bari’s ears. “We need shelter and protection. This house is warded from many types of magic that could be used against us. Things that are stirring up behind the scenes and a threat you need to be made aware of. It’s secluded, and it’s what is needed. You choose your own path, Bari. You must remember that.” Tyler got out of the car and headed to the house. Bari did not move and instead sat studying the old house, which held more regrets than Bari would ever admit. He sat there for only God knew how long, trying like hell to get strength. This place held some great memories while at the same time, his worst fears. He pictured his parents sitting on the porch, waving at him as he came home from school. The times had been so great, so happy, before it all crumbled away.
Pushing open the door, he stepped out into the breeze, taking in a deep gulp of the sea air. Fresh and clean, so unlike what he felt inside. He scanned the yard, seeing a tree swing, the cracked wood speaking to the years he had been away. He pictured Mackenzie laughing, smiling, lighting his world up.
Bari was trying to stay away from her, trying to protect her from too many things going on inside of him. Lust gripped him every time he thought of her—the least of his worries. He admitted what scared the shit out of him was the dark monster residing inside, who seemed to have a craving for Mackenzie as well. His childhood, his past all pushed him to stay away from her, to keep her safe.
He shut the car door and headed up the old steps. Surprised it still bore furniture, some new and old, but more so he was surprised that in the short time they had been in Nantucket, the rest of his team made the place look lived in. Without saying a word, he walked up the stairs and to the master bedroom. He shut the door with a kick and sat on the bed. Christ, when had everything changed? Tyler had made a mention of mapping out his own destiny but at this moment, it felt like anything but. He was being told who he was, what he had to do, and where he had to live. In a place full of his worst nightmares, the idea of becoming what he feared drove him to his knees. He fell back on the bed and held his head, trying to get a grip on the panic spreading through his veins like wild fire. He tried to get the peace he wanted.
He lay there wearing a pair of sweats and a muscle tank top, the sounds of the house pouring in, his arms resting behind his head. Bari thought about what had been going on with Mackenzie the last time he saw her. He had seen the pain in her eyes. While he gave her his friendship, he would need to ensure he maintained his distance, keep his desire wrapped up. Her calls went unanswered, her texts ignored. He wanted to keep the images he had of her intact. The ones from their past, the ones where he held her for hours … the comfort and peace.
A slam of a door, a shout of alarm, the stomping of shoes and a sweet, soft, very identifiable voice all pulled him from his thoughts. He frowned as his door opened and Mackenzie stood there, looking pissed.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Christ, she’s beautiful.
“No. You’ve been ignoring me.”
“Damn it, Mac, I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just got back in town. I’m trying to make sense of why I’m here.” I don’t want to hurt you again. “You need to leave, Mac.”
Mackenzie stood her ground, her cute chin held in defiance. He resisted the urge to grin while at the same time wondering if it would be okay to toss her out of his house.
“No, Bari. It’s time we address this. I have questions, and we have chapters that we need to close up. I know you just got here, but we do need to work this out.”
Rising from the bed, he didn’t take his eyes from hers. His senses heightened. He didn’t understand it, but he knew there were people walking outside the door, down the hallway. He felt their presence, recognized the signature as Mike. He heard the footfalls on the carpet, listened to the smooth voice talking on the phone somewhere downstairs. Beneath his room Tony munched on chips, the sound clear as if he were next to Bari. It was all so vivid in his mind, so clear. Mac’s heart rate jumped as he moved to tower over her.
“You can’t push me, Angel. I can’t let it happen. Leave the past in the past, Mac. Please … I’m not good enough, Mac.” His words came out a harsh whisper, his eyes capturing, holding hers. There were too many memories, regrets and threats he brought to her in order to let this go on. He understood what she wanted; hell, he wanted the same thing. But he wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t pure enough, and he didn’t understand what he would become. He wouldn’t risk Mac’s life trying to find out. He couldn’t risk her ending up like his mother had.
“I don’t want you to, Bari. Nine years. Nine years and this is what you’ve offered? Nine years without a word. Don’t you lie to me, don’t tell me to go. We’re worth more than that. I’m worth more. I won’t leave until I get some answers, Bari.” She looked so damn determined and so damn beautiful his patience started to give. His heart slammed against his chest. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to fight the urge to reach out to her. He couldn’t do this, knew he shouldn’t, but had no control over the ignited, raging hunger.
He reached out, faster than he thought he could move. The speed surprised him for only a heartbeat of time. Wrapping his large palm around her tiny wrist, he spun her. Mackenzie’s eyes flew wide in shock. He stepped forward and moved her body with his, pushing her into the wall. One hand gripped her wrists, tossing them over her head. He wouldn’t hurt her, would give his life for her, but he felt out of his element and needed to prove a point. His body stepped up behind hers. He tried not to groan as her lush backside nestled against his hips. He ground his teeth together and moved his head down to her ear.
“Stay still, Angel.”
What a homecoming, Bari. What are you going to do next? Show her your baseball card collection? Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t understand why in the hell he acted this way. Some primal source inside of him pushed, enticed him to warn her or draw her to him, he didn’t know which, as if the two halves of himself, the man and the beast, both raged for control. His mind opened and sought hers, entering just as he had felt Tyler enter his. He only acted on instinct, the need to connect them on a deeper level, something beyond physical comfort.
Mackenzie gasped and as if she spoke her thoughts, pictures garnered in his head, rippled with intensity. He felt her fear at his invasion, lust at his touch.
He moaned, couldn’t help it. Bari had tried to scare her, tried to tell her without words he was different, a threat, but what he saw in her mind, what she had been thinking involving the two of them, shattered the angry moment. Images poured from her, linked to him, and he saw it all. Their night together so long ago had been so damn sweet, and he could see now that the memories Mackenzie held of the moment made it even sweeter. He groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder. Her hair acted as a pillow for him
and turning his face, he drank in the scent of her. Apples and vanilla. Mac moved against him, the delicious curve of her pressing against him in an erotic rhythm. His need hardened, his control wavered. He pressed his face deeper in her curls, his breath on her neck. “Mac … you need to go.” Neither of them moved. He didn’t have the strength to push her away.
“Wh-what’s going on, Bari?” Her voice shook.
One hand moved from her wrists above her head and trailed in a slow path down her arms. Her muscles jumped under his touch. His palm roamed lower, his fingertips brushing the side of her breast. She inhaled sharply. He couldn’t stop. As his hand reached her waist, he wrapped his palm around the curve and pulled back, his own hips pushing forward with the action. He stilled, opened his eyes and looked around, then jumped back with a curse. “Fuck!” He turned, started pacing, trying like hell to bring his boiling blood down a level. He was heated, on fire for her, and needed to get away. He couldn’t be that guy. He wished like hell he could, but right now, with everything going on, he couldn’t. “I need you to leave, Mac.” He swallowed hard. “Please, just go.”
His entire body shook, the words he tossed at her sounding more like those of a caged animal. He would have gone so much further, pushed her, but he realized his emotions also came from the dark monster inside of him. He could hurt her, had seen his kind hurt before. He wouldn’t do it. He would kill himself before he hurt Mackenzie in any way. She turned toward him, her eyes wide with curiosity. She opened her mouth to speak and took a step closer. He held up a hand, closed his eyes, turning his head from the temptation of her. “Mac, I mean it. You need to go. Now…” She sighed, the sound so full of pain. He hated that he put it there. It proved he wasn’t worthy of her.
His fists clenched at his sides as she left. He reached up to scrub a hand down his face. He had no clue what the fuck he was doing, nor did he even know if he wanted to find out. Shit had gone to hell in a handbasket, and he could not make heads or tails of it.
He scanned the door, studied it as if it were calling to him. Mackenzie had walked out with an air of rejection, a harsh reminder that he tasted the moods and emotions of others now, that he wasn’t exactly human. He couldn’t go back now, couldn’t return to his old life. For some reason he felt like he belonged here, like this had been missing from his life for so long. Well, it was at least one of the things he had been missing. A certain female crossed his mind; an image of Mackenzie’s body rose up and strangled the breath from him. He shook his head. It couldn’t happen, especially if he was to do what Tyler told him: protect them, the human race. From what he knew, what he had seen as a child, he understood that protecting people meant protecting them from himself. Opening the door, he stepped out into the hall.
Tyler and Mike stood at the end of the hallway, both of their eyes flashing in color before they glanced in the direction Mackenzie had gone. He went to step back into his room and right there, in a beat of time, he saw both of them, only they weren’t the males he knew. Instead, in their place stood two menacing demons, almost exact replicas of what he had seen as a child. The colors were different though, the patterns distinguished between the two.
Tyler’s stood as a menacing figure in deep red, his markings, raised and green, stood out in the same color as his eyes. Mike had been a lighter green, almost hazel, his markings brown. The second passed and then they both stood in their human forms once again, staring back at him as he stood shell-shocked to the spot. Yeah, Toto definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore…
Chapter Nine
“Mom?”
Mac turned at the sound of Byron’s voice and saw him peaking up from his homework. “Yeah, babe?”
“Do I have a dad?”
Mac’s hands stilled on the plate she was drying, and she fought to keep hold of the porcelain. This was a question she tried to avoid and yet feared would come up. On one hand, she thought she could do a good enough job of playing the role of both parents. But on the other hand, she understood that sometimes she fell short. This past weekend was a perfect example. With Byron being in little league baseball, there was a prime opportunity for her shortcomings as a mother and not as a father to show. All the coaches on the team were fathers. When the coach made mention of the players needing more practice with pitching and hitting, Byron had looked to her for guidance. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t throw a ball, but more so about the longing in Byron’s face as he watched his friends play with their dads. It was the shadows in his eyes as she tried, and failed, to teach him a basic sport. “Yes. You do, By. It’s just your daddy … he’s not in our lives.”
“Why?”
God, wasn’t that the question of the hour.
She set the plate down and used the towel to wipe off her hands, turning to lean against the counter. “Well, that’s a good question, sweetie. See, sometimes two adults go their separate ways.” She struggled for the right words, her mind coming up a complete blank. “Your daddy just isn’t here, By. I know what this is about, babe. Tell you what, let’s give Grandpa a call. Perhaps he can help out with baseball. How does that sound?” How could she explain to her son who his father was, when it was something that terrified her?
“You know what? Forget it, Mom.” Byron rose from the table and pushed his chair back, grabbing his book and pencil. Just before he turned away, anger and impatience flashed across his face. “I’m going to finish my homework in my room.”
Her heart plummeted. “By, wait, don’t go.”
But he was already shaking his head before his little body disappeared into his room, the snap of a door closing her out. “Shit…” Glancing over to her phone, she thought of a different male in her life, one who seemed to be avoiding the hell out of her. She and Bari went back so many years; their friendship had begun at such a young age. She really wished she could get into his head, try to make him understand how happy she had been to see him. After he left, there hadn’t been anything from him until a few weeks ago.
Did he think he could come back to Nantucket and settle in as if they weren’t anything to one another? As if he didn’t owe her some sort of damn explanation? One damn night, only one, and her entire world changed. One touch and their friendship crumbled.
With a snort of disgust, she pushed off the counter as the front door bell rang. “What now?”
Walking down the hall, she cut through the living room and up to the door, looking through the peephole before she opened it. Her brows drew down as she looked around and didn’t see anyone. Maybe the lack of sleep was throwing her mind off.
She turned to go back into the house when her gaze drew down to a long white box sitting on her porch. Surprised, she leaned down and picked up the box, walked back into her house and set it down on the table. Opening it up, a gasp of delight came out of her mouth as she saw that two dozen long stemmed white roses—her favorite—filled the box. She searched around the box looking for any kind of note, something that would give her an indicator of who they were from. Nothing.
Letting out a soft sigh, she pulled the roses from the box before walking over to grab a vase and fill it with water. She had a hint, though. A certain male in her life had pushed her away earlier and perhaps this was his apology. Bari had always been a man of a few words, but Bari also knew when he was wrong. Her lips curved into a smile as she set the vase of roses in the middle of her kitchen island and thought on the phone call she had been wondering about earlier. Perhaps, perhaps she would try.
****
Her sweet mouth was going to undo him, outright, flat out, kill him. Bari glanced down and saw her lips peel back as her blunt teeth bit down on his nipple.
“Fucking hell … Christ, Mackenzie.”
His back arched off the mattress, following Mackenzie’s retreating mouth before she soothed away the pain with a soft rasp of her tongue. His cock pulsed in time with his heart as if it were its own person.
Having Mac above him, dedicating her attentions to his body in her own teasing way,
was heaven. Her legs sat on the outside of his hips, held off from touching him. Each time he reached up to grab her, to pull her down, she drew back with laughter dancing in her eyes.
Mackenzie’s silken mouth moved lower, and she made a sweet sound, a cross between a wanton moan and a low growl that had his blood heating, his length jumping in anticipation, and his body growing impatient. He lifted his hand to comb his fingers through her hair as she sucked an opened mouth kiss on his hip, making a subtle ‘pop’ in the air. He couldn’t wait to have her gorgeous lips surrounding him. Patience was something he understood but right now, it was something he fought to maintain. He watched her, her focus dedicated on his body, soaking it all in. Mackenzie’s head moved lower, and he groaned, arching into her touch. He took his other hand and brushed her hair away from her face to get a better view. His erection pulsed, the head of it hitting just above his belly button and the thick length lying in full view for her perusal. Mackenzie chuckled low as she watched it, and her eyes flicked up to his and back down. Her head dipped down slowly … so fucking slow he thought he’d die from the way his heart stopped. In agony Bari watched her lips part, her tongue darting out, and as Mackenzie hovered delicious inches from the head, his eyes snapped open.
He was alone in his room.
“Christ!” His hips rolled forward, and he felt the rasp of the sheets against his painfully hard erection. “Fucking hell!” He tossed the covers off and sat up, sliding his legs off the bed and dropping his head between his shoulders. His cock demanded attention, the dream having felt so real. He would have put money on it, risked his own life, and swore that Mackenzie had been there in the flesh. With a groan, he pushed off the bed and walked over to grab his nylon pants, shoving each of his legs in them before snapping them low on his hips. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a black A-line tank before yanking it over his head.