Chaos Theory

by Susan Harris

  I must have been staring longer than I realized, because both Atticus and Nickolai were looking at me—one with a worried smile, the other with curious eyes—when I came to.

  Needing to alleviate any tension Atticus might’ve felt, I pursed my lips and ran my eyes over him critically. “I mean, I get it. If I were interested in males, I’d say yes. I can totally see why Jack would be interested in a JT-lookalike boy toy.”

  Atticus burst out laughing and strode across the room to engulf me in a hug. I could tell from his body language he’d relaxed enough to be himself again, and it surprised me that my opinion mattered to him.

  Releasing me, I heard Nickolai clear his throat, and I stepped away from Atticus.

  “So, you don’t like males?” Nickolai asked, his tone unreadable.

  I smiled at him, slowly and deliberately. “Oh,” I said with a shrug, “I like men. I’m just not interested in a relationship. Although if Tom Hardy or Jeremy Renner came calling, I’d not say no. Then again, Brie Larson is all kinds of hot, too. Options open and all that.”

  Atticus was laughing hard now, doubled over at the perplexed look on Nickolai’s face. Having strapped on my sai, I grabbed my jacket and strode toward the elevator, stopping briefly to pat Nickolai on the cheek.

  “Don’t think about it too hard or you’ll hurt yourself.”

  Nickolai snarled, snapping his teeth at me, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring the look on his face.

  “What time will you be home?” he asked brusquely.

  Home… as if he and I lived here together rather than I was babysitting his ass.

  Peering over my shoulder, I asked Atticus if he’d mind staying with our liege until I returned as I was meeting a friend after coffee with Jack.

  Nickolai’s eyes clashed with mine as a jumble of words fell from his lips, asking who the friend was, where I was going, and was the friend male or female.

  Ignoring Nickolai, I hurried to the elevator and pressed the button to call it, tapping my foot impatiently as I waited. A growl rumbled through the apartment, and Nickolai hissed my name in a tone that had me wanting to tremble. All my vampire urges wanted me to bend and break at My Liege’s tone, yet I was Ryan Callan and I did not bend or break.

  As the doors opened, I slipped inside, setting my foot in the entrance to stop the doors from closing. Lifting my eyes, I held Nickolai’s gaze and smirked. “This is what you wanted, right? For me to make friends? And now you’re acting like all the other males who want to put me in a nice box that makes sense to them. Shove that box up your ass, My Liege, and make up your goddamn mind.”

  Pulling my foot away, I gave him a perfect curtsy as the doors closed just in time to save me. They did not, however, save me from the very impressive sound and sight of Nickolai’s fist crunching the metal of the doors. Apparently, I’d hit a sore point.

  When the elevator doors opened, I stepped into the foyer and made my way to the small residence bar. Thick oak doors with the word “Private” embossed in gold barred the way, but I could sense Jack already inside, his heartbeat a steady but slightly faster thrum of energy than usual, as if he were nervous about seeing me.

  I eased the door open, and Jack looked up from his phone as I approached, getting to his feet and slipping his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. I studied him as I neared, watching as he inhaled a breath, a brief flash of fear in his eyes.

  But this was Jack; he was the closest thing I had to family. How could he think I cared who he was in love with?

  Because everyone around you judges you for everything you stand for. He’s judged for everything he is just like you.

  I closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his chest as he let go of a shuddering breath. We stood like that for an age before Jack released me and motioned for me to sit down.

  We didn’t start talking until we’d ordered and received our coffees. Once the waiter disappeared, we had the room to ourselves.

  Jack sighed. “I’m sorry if you feel we lied to you, kiddo. Our species aren’t known for their tolerance of those who aren’t up to code. You know better than I do.”

  I gave Jack a small smile. “I don’t care. I just want you to be happy, Jack. My dad wouldn’t have cared, either.”

  The grin tugging at Jack’s lips made me smile even more so. “He knew… Dad knew you were gay.”

  “Course he did. Not much ever got past Tristan Callan.”

  No, there wasn’t.

  “I was afraid, kiddo. Afraid you’d hate me. I mean, Atticus is a good bit younger than I am.”

  With a shrug, I replied, “Does that even matter? Vampires don’t age once we hit maturity. You both look the same age. I don’t see what the problem is, but I’m different from the rest of the court. I understand why you felt the need to hide it, but please, never feel you have to hide from me, Jack.”

  Jack scrubbed a hand down his face. “You are exactly how they would have wanted you to be, kiddo. Tristan and Imogen would be so proud of you.”

  Emotion thickened in my throat, and I blinked back some rebel tears threatening to slip free when Jack’s phone pinged and a smile awakened his features. How everyone couldn’t see Jack was in love with Atticus is something I’d never understand, but, then again, I’d been oblivious, too, so who was I to comment?

  “Tell your boy toy he can come join us if he leaves his royal pain in the ass upstairs.”

  Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “You should give Nickolai a break. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

  I lifted my coffee, taking a sip before retorting with a snort, “He’s going to be king—it’s kinda his job.”

  Jack typed a response to Atticus and set down his phone, turning his attention back to me. “Just ease up on him, Ryan. All he wants is what’s best for his people, and that includes you. You’re walking a dangerous line with the rogue, and he thinks you have a death wish. We all do.”

  Setting my mug down on the table, I rested my elbows on my knees. “Like I told you all, I made a promise to my dad I’d keep going, and I am. I never promised to live—I promised to stay alive, and I’m keeping that promise. Do not judge me on how I choose to live my life, Jack. Extend me the same courtesy and respect I have given you.”

  Jack opened his mouth to speak, obviously surprised by the seriousness in my tone, but clamped his mouth shut as Atticus came inside with Nickolai hot on his heels. I drained my coffee, standing as Jack and Atticus embraced, giving each other a quick peck on the lips before they turned sheepishly in my direction.

  “I mean, that’s all kinds of hot—if Jack wasn’t the closest thing to an uncle.”

  The couple chuckled as Nickolai rolled his eyes, stepping into my field of view to try and get my attention. I sidestepped him, yanking my phone from my pocket and responding to the text from Krista that said she was outside.

  I texted her to come inside, explaining I was just saying goodbye to my uncle. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I made to leave, but Nickolai blocked my way.

  I snarled at him. “In the wise words of the great Ludacris, ‘Move, bitch. Get out the way.’”

  Jack gasped at my complete lack of respect, but Nickolai let a slow smile tug at his lips, calm and collected now after his growl and punch mode about half an hour ago.

  He made to respond when the door creaked open and Krista strode in, halting with a sharp intake of breath as she was mesmerized by the men in the room. I rolled my eyes so hard they almost rolled right out of my head.

  Jack and Atticus immediately dropped their hands and widened the distance between themselves; however, I was having none of it.

  “Hey Krista, this is my uncle Jack and his partner Atticus. Unfortunately, you already know Nicky.”

  Shocked, Krista stepped forward, shaking hands with both Jack and Atticus, then nodding to Nickolai as I edged toward the door behind her.

  “So, ladies. What are the plans
for this evening?” Jack asked with a smile and that Irish lilt of his, which had no doubt melted many a heart.

  “Oh, I’m hoping to take Ryan shopping for an outfit for the party on Sunday night. If I can talk her into going, that is.”

  “She’s going.”

  I glared at Nickolai. “She can speak, and she is not going.”

  “Afraid you might have some fun and ruin that ice-queen persona of yours, Frosty?”

  Jack took an aggressive step toward Nickolai, but I held up my hand to halt him. I was surprised to feel hurt by his words, by the nickname I hated, but instead of showing my feelings, I let a slow, dangerous smile creep onto my lips.

  “I’m not afraid to have a little fun, Nicky. But the last time you promised me some fun, well… let’s just say Missy Elliot was right; nobody wants a one-minute man.”

  Grabbing Krista by the arm, I all but dragged her out the door and into the night air as I gave Jack and Atticus a wave and blew Nickolai a kiss over my shoulder.

  From the murderous glance he threw at me, I was beginning to wonder if I really did have a death wish.

  13

  Krista made it outside the door before she whirled on me with the biggest grin on her face. “Holy hotness, Batman!”

  I could only shrug when she asked if I knew any not-so-perfectly gorgeous men, and she laughed like I was teasing her, like we are already the best of friends and she found me hilarious.

  Linking her arm through mine, I let her lead the way as she rambled on about her life, filling me in on her boyfriend back home, her parents, and how she wanted all the trappings of the stereotypical American life: the career, the husband, the white picket fence, and the two kids. I listened intently, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times. Suddenly, I felt so nervous; Krista was like a little ray of sunshine in a petite package, and I wanted her to like me.

  And I hated myself a little for it.

  We crossed the quad, walking across the bridge I’d stood on a few nights ago with the rogue. I glanced around, waiting for him to spring out of the shadows and grab me or Krista. My entire body tensed, and Krista sensed the change in me.

  “Oh my,” she said, peering up at me. “I’ve been rambling on and on about myself, but I want to know all about you, Ryan Callan.”

  Again, I shrugged, which seemed to be my default action nowadays. “There’s really not much to tell.”

  “I very much doubt that. You are this gorgeous woman who appeared on campus with a hunky I-don’t-know-what-the-hell-you-guys-are. No one knows a thing about you. You’re a mystery, Ryan, and I love a good old-fashioned mystery.”

  Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, I shook my head. “I’m just an old friend of Nicky’s who decided to hang around and see what college is like. We grew up… different. Our families used to be close, and all of us diplomat kids lived and were schooled with one another. That’s it. No big mystery.”

  “Are your families still close? I mean, what happened there?”

  “My parents were murdered.”

  Krista jerked to a halt, and I had to do the same to stop from colliding with her. The tears in her eyes made me want to bolt, but I just stood there, rooted to the spot.

  “Oh Ryan, I’m so sorry that happened to you. How old were you?”

  “Seven… I was seven.”

  Krista tilted her head, ready to listen, and I was surprised to find myself wanting to burden her with the sad, sad tale that was my life. I wanted to tell someone who could only know half the truth, who didn’t know my parents, who didn’t really know me and could never really know me. I wanted a friend. I wanted… I just wanted.

  “It was… there was a terror attack on the embassy we were staying at in Russia. They came in and killed a few of the staff and guards. My parents were attachés to Nickolai’s parents and died protecting them.”

  “That is terrible, Ryan. Did they ever catch the people responsible?”

  I shook my head, because it was the truth. Some of the perpetrators had been killed that day, but no matter how many investigations had been done, the members of the rebel faction had never been found. To this day, they still posed a threat to the crown. But one day, I would spill their blood and have my revenge.

  “Did your uncle raise you then? Or did Nickolai’s family take you in?”

  “I raised myself.” My words came out harsh, but my life had been harsh. And brutal.

  “Did you at least have friends to support you?”

  I couldn’t rake over the past anymore; I wanted Krista to be my friend because she liked me, not because she felt sorry for me. I couldn’t handle one more goddamn person feeling sorry for me.

  “Look Krista, I don’t wanna be rude, but my childhood wasn’t great. I was bullied and singled out for the most part, so I isolated myself… which is why I’m not good with people. I didn’t have friends growing up, so I don’t know how to do this. The Heathers made my life a living hell even though I was already living through my worst nightmare.

  “If you feel obligated to be my friend because you feel sorry for me, please don’t. I’d rather not waste each other’s time. I may sound like a Grade A bitch, but one thing you can always expect from me is to be straightforward.”

  Krista stared for a few heartbeats before she spoke.

  “The Heathers?”

  “That’s what the mean girls call their version of a girl gang.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Are they all named Heather?”

  “Not a single one.”

  Krista frowned as she rubbed her forehead. “Well, that’s all kinds of stupid.”

  I chuckled. It was, as Krista so elegantly put it, all kinds of stupid. I expected her to walk away from me, but Krista linked her arm though mine and continued forward. We said nothing to each other for a while as we made our way through the city streets, the town bustling at this time of evening as the work week let out and humans let their hair down.

  Walking through the crowds, I could scent the smell of alcohol, sweat, and other bodily fluids on all these bodies, wrinkling my nose at the overwhelming stench. Krista steered me away from the popular nightspots and into a more upmarket, cobbled-street area. She came to a stop outside a shop that looked closed and knocked three times on the door.

  A few seconds later, the door opened and a woman ushered Krista inside with me following after her and closing the door behind us. The lights were dim, a red glare from some lamps casting shadows against the black-painted walls. Krista and the woman did that air-kiss thing women tended to do before Krista introduced me.

  I studied the strange woman as if she were prey. When she held her hand out and met my steely gaze, I caught a glimpse of a red apple tattooed on her wrist. That made me pay real close attention to the woman who was grinning with a knowing smile.

  With hair the color of coal hanging down the front of her dark dress, someone with less-keen eyesight would not have been able to tell where the woman ended and the dress began. It was a long and flowing garment, and I noted her feet were bare but her neck was covered up to the chin, presumably hiding signs of having been fed from at the neck.

  This woman realized I’d recognized the tattoo, knew I understood her to be a Child of Eve, and clearly knew what I was even if she did not know who I was. She inclined her head in acknowledgement even as my heart began to hammer a steady beat in my chest. I wondered whether I’d be able to kill Krista if this woman told her what I was.

  “Hello, I’m Rose. It’s nice to meet you. Krista tells me you need a dress for a party. Come, let me show you some dresses that would look devastating on you.”

  Rose pulled aside a curtain and slipped into the back as I glanced at Krista with a brow raised.

  “I know Rose can be a bit… extra, but she has the best clothes in Cork if you want to make an impression.”

  “I’m not looking to make an impression. I don’t want to go to this stupid party. And what do you mean by extra?”

  Krista grinne
d, pushing some of her California sunshine-blonde hair from her face and lifting her eyes to the sky as she did. “I mean, Rose thinks she’s connected to the supernatural. She’s part of a group that worships vampires. I mean, she might be batshit crazy, but damn—her clothes are worth it. Come on, let’s go shopping.”

  I’d rather have been stabbing something than trying to navigate this awkward situation as Krista disappeared behind the curtain, leaving me no choice but to follow her.

  Slipping through, I was amazed to see the shop seemed to stretch on for days, with rows and rows of dresses and other items filling what looked like miles of clothes racks. I browsed through the racks, lifting out a cropped, military-style jacket with patches sewn onto it. It was totally something I’d wear, and I imagined Nattie’s face as I walked into Murphy’s wearing it. With a grin, I threw the jacket over my arm as Krista called me forward.

  Rose had handed Krista a fuchsia skirt and white, strappy top and was ushering my companion into the dressing room to try the outfit on. The fitting rooms were far off down the rows of clothing, and once Krista was out of earshot, Rose turned and smiled like I was a deity. I frowned, but she simply continued to smile at me. Taking the jacket, I held and nodding in approval, she pointed to a rail full of dresses for me to choose from.

  “Your secret is safe with me. It is my pleasure to serve you.”

  If I could have groaned aloud, I would have, but these humans were vital to the survival of our race. As I’d never seen Rose before, I assumed she was one of the Children of Eve who fed off-campus vampires like Jack.

  Rose handed me a lilac dress that had me scowling even as she told me how it matched the lavender of my eyes. said eyes scanned the clothes and found a ripped pair of black jeans, faded as if they’d been well-worn. Rose shook her head and pointed at another dress on the rail. It was a sleeved bodycon dress that would have hugged my curves but done little to conceal a weapon or give me freedom of movement.

  When I said nothing, she held the dress in front of me and grinned. “What about this green one? It really does amazing things for your eyes.”