by A. C. Arthur
She came around to the other side of him, standing so close Eli had no choice but to stare up at her. She wore pants that looked like the ones she did her training in and a white T-shirt that was long enough to cover the majority of her curves but just sheer enough to give a good indication that there was much more to see. His teeth clenched so hard they ached.
“Don’t do what, exactly? Call you out on how ridiculous you’re acting?”
“No,” he replied slowly. “Don’t make a scene. There’s a good reason I do not want to go for a walk right now and if you’d just relax and move on I can continue trying to figure out how I plan on dealing with it.”
“What happened?” she asked immediately. “Is it the rogues? Did you find him?”
Eli’s eyes narrowed.
“Did I find who?”
Nivea didn’t reply. In fact, her lips had clamped closed so tightly they thinned and Eli was instantly concerned.
“Who do you think I should be looking for, Nivea?”
She shook her head. “Nobody. I mean, I know that Rome questioned my father today and I thought maybe he’d given you a name of someone to look out for.”
She wasn’t being completely truthful with him, Eli could tell by the way her shoulders tensed, her scent wavering between that of a lie and that of anxiety.
“Do you know who your father was working with? Is there someone else we should have in custody?”
She’d been shaking her head before his question could be completed.
“No. I was just wondering.”
It was more likely she was just lying, but Eli truly did not think he could deal with her tonight. He couldn’t take her somewhere private where he could ask the questions he wanted and possibly get the answers, or get a lot of pleasure from being alone with her instead.
“Well, stop wondering. And in answer to your question, you do not have to come to my room tonight.” Eli stood and walked away from her, feeling her angry glare against his back in sharp painful pricks. He’d hurt her and he hadn’t meant to. Yet, he’d known he eventually would.
Damn his dysfunctional makeup and all the bullshit he’d allowed into his life that made him more fucked up. With purposeful strides he walked out of the dining hall, intent on locking himself in his room until he could figure out what the hell was going on and how to stop it before everyone he cared about ended up a victim.
Before he’d even realized it, Eli had slammed into Baxter. The older man moved throughout Havenway with such quiet accuracy it was never really a surprise to see where he’d turn up. Except Eli hadn’t been expecting to see him, or rather, bump into him right at this moment. His intention had been to get far away from people for a while, but it seemed as if that was not going to happen.
Baxter’s weathered hands reached up to Eli’s shoulders, just as Eli mumbled, “Pardon me.”
“No pardon necessary,” Baxter said, his voice slow, steady, and wise.
Baxter had been with Rome’s family since before he was born. Just a few months ago they’d all learned that the butler’s service to the Shadow Shifters went well beyond cleaning up their houses and washing their dirty clothes. Baxter was an Overseer. His job, as a human, was to watch, to teach, to preserve the legacy of the Shadow Shifters. He was the only human Overseer and had worked very closely with Elder Alamar as the Stateside Assembly had been constructed.
For that reason, and because Eli had been brought up to do nothing less, he’d always afforded Baxter a great amount of respect.
“I was actually looking for you,” Baxter continued.
Eli took a step back, not only feeling leery at Baxter’s words, but also uncomfortable by the way the man was looking at him.
“Is this about Rome? Is something wrong?” Eli asked, his muscles already tensing.
“Relax, shifter. I know that we are all a bit on edge these days. But what I have to say I think will bring some relief to you.”
To the contrary, his cryptic words had Eli’s jaw clenching so hard he could have cracked a tooth. “What is it?” he asked without further preamble.
“I know what happened to you and your brother in Sierra Leone,” Baxter began.
Eli sighed, truly sick of thinking and hearing about this subject. “Look, I don’t have time for this,” he said. “I’m busy right now. Please excuse me.” Eli turned to walk away before Baxter could reply, only to be stopped by the man’s hand on his arm.
“You need to listen to what I have to tell you, son.”
Eli looked down at Baxter’s hand, then back up at the older man. “I’m not your son.”
Baxter released his hold on Eli, giving a slight nod of his head as he pushed his wire-framed glasses up higher on his nose.
“In some ways that is exactly what you are now,” Baxter replied.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It starts in your temples,” Baxter began. “The pain from seeing so much in so short an amount of time. It bothers you, I know because I’ve watched you in the meetings. You don’t want to believe it, cannot think that you have changed. But at the same time you cannot deny what you are experiencing.”
Eli shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But as if on command, his temples had begun to throb the moment Baxter spoke of them. At his sides his hands clenched as if that action could dispute the pain somehow.
“Your brother’s reaction to the damiana-laced shaman’s treatment has been different from yours. His mate’s DNA contributed to his healing from the poison. Once he completely embraced her, he was able to fully take hold of the powerful shifter that he had become.”
“I’m. Not. Ezra,” Eli told him through gritted teeth.
He was angry with Baxter, but didn’t actually know why. Sure, the man had halted his search for solitude but there was something else, something that had Eli’s heart beating rapidly.
“Your reaction to the smoke has only started the inevitable.”
Eli did not respond this time. He was almost afraid to. Not wanting to hear what the man was going to say next, while at the same time, on some distant level, already knowing exactly what his words would be.
“They’ve already begun, Eli,” Baxter continued, clasping his hands in front of him.
The man spoke with an air of old wisdom so much that sometimes Eli thought he should be wearing a long belted robe, like most of the Elders did, instead of regular everyday clothes like the rest of them.
“With all due respect, Baxter,” Eli began, then stopped as the man only nodded at him.
“You have seen the visions. They’ve come while you are awake as well as when you are asleep. They are of the past and of the future, sometimes of the right now. You wonder how or why, but think if you do not speak of it, they will cease to exist.” The older man shook his head.
“You are wrong. The visions will get stronger, clearer. They will come more frequently and eventually at your command. Your senses will return to one hundred percent, possibly even stronger. That is how it is for Seers.”
Eli listened to his every word, felt something warm spreading throughout his body, a familiar sense of knowing and still replied, “I am not a Seer. I am too young to be one and there is no lineage throughout my family.”
“You are correct,” Baxter told him. “You are very young to come into your power. It usually does not present itself until forty or forty-five years into a shifter’s life. You can thank the damiana in that shaman’s smoke for bringing it to the surface so soon. As for the family lineage, the bloodlines have been so diluted after the tribes began to migrate from the Gungi, there is no perfect familial trace on the Seer power now.”
“No,” Eli said, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Lifting his hands he cupped them to his ears. It was foolish he knew, but what else could he do? He couldn’t take anymore. Not one more goddamned thing. From Acacia and all the drama and death that followed, to Leanne and her tragic end, and now Nivea and the problems the shif
ters as a whole were facing. Eli felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster and about to explode with anger at any moment.
Then Baxter touched Eli’s right hand with his left, placing his full palm over the guard’s with a touch that was both warm and light. The pain vibrating from Eli’s temples down to his shoulders and resting in the pit of his stomach ceased, a shiver moving down his spine.
“You know this to be true. It is the answer that you have both sought and struggled with. Your time in Sierra Leone changed you. How you decide to embrace your destiny is the only thing in your control. You are a Seer; that will not go away. To fight against it or continue to deny it is futile. It is who you are.”
“Stop it,” Eli whispered, his legs going weak beneath him. “Just stop it.”
Baxter removed his hand from Eli’s. He took a step back and walked away. Eli watched him go, wishing he had never come and spoken to him. He saw the older man walking slowly down the hall until he turned the corner, leaving only the scent of knowledge and despair in his wake. Eli inhaled the scent deeply, the man’s words replaying in his mind, just as he realized he’d watched Baxter’s departure through closed eyes.
Chapter 15
More than a week had passed since Eli had been to the hospital room where Rimas died, and less time than that since he’d visited his barbershop and received the gift that was left for him. Today was finally the day.
He braced his hands on the bathroom sink, letting his head fall as he tried to center his thoughts. Nivea was sleeping in his bed, an even bigger part of her stretching alongside his cat, living and breathing inside of him. After a couple days of her going to her own room at night and keeping her distance throughout the day, he’d had enough. Last night he’d gone to her.
She’d been in the training center practicing with Caprise, or at least he’d thought the two females were practicing. Thinking back on it now they’d appeared to be doing more talking than actual training. But he hadn’t paid much attention to that at the time. All he could think about was how badly he’d wanted her in his bed, his arms, beneath him, on top of him. Damn, he just needed her.
“Well, if it isn’t the long-lost twin,” Caprise greeted him as he’d approached.
She’d taken to calling both him and Ezra twin, only distinguishing by which one she was looking at during that time. Eli mostly let it slide because he’d never had a younger sister before, and especially not one who liked to believe she could take him on the training field.
“Does your mate know you’re in here at this time of night?” had been his sarcastic comeback.
Caprise hadn’t batted an eye, but delivered her immediate retort. “That depends if yours knows how moody an asshole you can be. Oh, wait, let me ask Nivea since she’s right here.”
Eli’s lips clenched as he moved between the two females, his back facing Caprise. He looked at Nivea just as she was adjusting the band holding her hair back from her face.
“We need to talk,” he said. “Now.”
She arched a brow and let her hands fall to the bare skin of her hips. Those damned training pants were riding so low he could see the tip of her hip bone, the sweet indentation of her navel, and the diamond dangling from the ring she had there.
“I’m training,” she replied.
“Take a break,” he answered, knowing that what he wanted to do to her would take much longer than a break.
“She can’t, unless her trainer says so,” Caprise chimed in from behind. “Or her mate. I don’t know, which one are you, Eli?”
“Please,” he’d said through clenched teeth, wanting to throttle Caprise and then pick Nivea up and toss her over his shoulder. He’d carry her into his room and have his way with her and this burning need that had been growing steadily in the pit of his stomach would go away once and for all.
She looked like she was going to deny him until he stepped closer. Eli could feel it, like a blanket covering him, the reach of her cat calling out to his. Nivea opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut because she knew, just as he did, that refusing would be futile.
Turning quickly, she walked away from him and after exhaling the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Eli followed behind her.
“Be careful, twin,” he heard Caprise calling from behind him. “That’s not a cat you want to toy with.”
Eli didn’t even turn to acknowledge her warning, but wondered if the females in Havenway had some type of loyalty pact.
Once in the hallway, he realized that Nivea had continued walking. Eli picked up her scent, following it dutifully, his mind focused on only her, the cat and the human. There was something in that combination that had been calling to him for far too long. He’d tried to ignore it, felt he had no other choice but to do so. Here he was, the great alpha that he’d always assumed he was meant to be, following behind a sexy and headstrong female destined to reel him in and keep him tightly within her grasp.
He was shaking his head even as he approached the door to his room where Nivea now stood, arms folded over her chest, shoulder leaning on the doorjamb.
“This doesn’t mean you’ve won, Eli,” she said to him, her cat’s eyes flashing fiercely.
“I should have never entered this competition,” he told her as he reached around, touching his fingers to the new print-scan security device Nick had installed on all the higher level shifter’s doors.
When he heard the click of the locks, he pushed against her until they both fell into the room. With his foot he pushed the door closed behind him and knew it would automatically lock again. His arm was immediately around her waist, pulling her close to him and lifting her feet off the floor. She didn’t gasp or act shocked in any way at his quick motion, but instead wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips in anticipation of his. He did not keep her waiting but latched onto her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and moaning at how good she tasted. When his tongue slipped inside her mouth and was stroked by hers, everything everywhere stopped.
Walking across the floor until his bed was right behind her, Eli laid Nivea down, falling on top of her as they went. He grabbed her leg, lifting it up so high it finally rested on his shoulder. His hand was sliding down again, cupping her ass, fingers stroking between her legs, feeling the heat through the spandex she wore. Their kiss was hungry and fevered, her teeth scraping along the line of his jaw and down his neck. When her tongue delved into his ear, Eli roared. His sharp teeth latched onto the collar of her shirt, ripping the material straight down the center.
She did exhale quickly then, her back arching so that he could peel the rest of the shirt away. Grabbing the center of the sports bra she wore, that too came off with a ripping sound. Unbound breasts with darkened nipples, taut and begging to be kissed were appeased, his tongue lathing over each turgid bud. He cupped both breasts in his palms, squeezing and rotating from one to the other, licking, sucking, kneading.
Her palms smacked against the back of his head, her fingers slipping forward to pull the sunglasses from his eyes. She tossed them across the bed and in the distance Eli heard them hit the floor. She cradled his face then, forcing him to look up at her.
“We’re in this together,” she whispered. “Like it or not.”
He didn’t like it. Or rather he didn’t like the word together.
As for the way her tongue slipped past her lips in offering and his mouth closed over it, sucking so deep he felt as if he were actually inhaling a part of her into himself, Eli was too far gone to complain. As their bodies tangled together in the here and now, his thoughts wandered to their cats running, stretching, scents mingling, hearts molding, and their eventual joining … dammit, another vision.
Eli tore himself away from that thought, released his mouth’s hold on her, and ripped away her pants and the tiny wisp of lace that served as her underwear. She was naked and ready, the scent of her essence and the sight of it dampening her plump folds was all Eli needed to know, all his mind needed to fixate o
n at this moment.
With a trembling finger, he parted her tender folds, loving the suctioning sound of her opening to him. His mouth watered at the sight of her clit, so taut and eager to be pleased and her center dripping with sweet nectar. In one quick motion his mouth was on her, devouring all that she had to offer, all that she was. Her hips lifted from the bed, her hands now gripping the back of his head, holding him steady as she pumped into his mouth.
It came with a rush and Eli’s shoulders shook with the intensity of it. Emotion, that’s what it was, and the moment he realized it, he pulled back, ripping the snap from his pants and freeing his erection. She said something, whispered his name, told him what she wanted, something. Eli didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. And he didn’t want to see, not her face, not her gorgeous breasts or the glistening goodness of all the desire she had for him. He did not want to see anything, anymore.
He just wanted to feel.
He thrust into her fast and furious, leveraging himself on his knees, fingers gripping her thighs as he held her legs up. She gasped and her hands moved to cup her breasts. Eli closed his eyes, pulled out, and thrust in once more. Out and then in, deeper and deeper until his cat stood on its haunches and roared so loud Eli’s ears rang. The cat was fierce and hungry, the man horny and conflicted. Together they worked, moving in and out of her, loving the feel of her slickness against his rigid length, the clap of her soft thighs against his, the sound of her voice echoing his name.
No. He shook his head. Just feel the pleasure and let that be all.
But it was useless.
“Eli.”
He could hear her loud and clear, each and every time.
“My companheiro,” she whispered. “My companheiro.”
Shaking his head did nothing. Her voice was too loud, too soft, her cat too persistent rubbing alongside his.
“All for you, my companheiro.”
Eli gritted his teeth as she shivered beneath him, wanting, no desperately needing, to see now. He looked down at her, saw her eyes half closed, her back arched, nipples hard. She was in the midst of her release, her body trembling, lower lip clenched between her teeth, fists gripping the sheets. She looked so sweet, so deserving of something better, someone with more sanity, more normalcy. She deserved the best, and yet this was all he could give her, all he had.