Cold Hard Secret (Secret McQueen)

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Cold Hard Secret (Secret McQueen) Page 16

by Sierra Dean


  “I brought him home alive.”

  “And what about the time he took a bullet for you?”

  Dominick meant well, and he was just trying to protect Desmond, but the reminder of Des’s near death at my wedding brought up a violent and particularly visceral memory of blood. Blood all over my hands, my dress, blood everywhere.

  And with it came a flash of other blood and spilled innards, with Holden’s vampire brother Maxime stretched out, gutted like a fish. I got lightheaded and braced myself against the foyer wall. Taking several deep breaths through my nose, I closed my eyes to count, but in the darkness of my mind the visuals were much worse. The halo from the hallway lights was a ghost of the overhead surgery lights where I could still smell the antiseptic.

  I could still feel the incision.

  Dominick caught me as my knees buckled, and helped me back to my feet. He kept both his hands on my waist, clearly not trusting me to stand on my own. I was grateful, because if he’d let me go, I would have probably collapsed onto the floor.

  “Are you okay?” All his former hardness was gone, and he was looking at me like a friend again. His worry was so apparent it almost made me feel worse than his guilt glare had.

  “I’m so far from okay I would need a travel visa to get back to okay.”

  Dom snorted and pulled me in close, wrapping me up in a tight hug. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to be held with no expectations. I didn’t need to feel bad for not sleeping with Dominick like I did with Holden and Desmond, and that made the hug easy. I buried my face against his warm chest and breathed in deep. He had an earthy, wild smell to him that was something I recognized on most werewolves, but he also smelled like family.

  “What are you running from?” he asked.

  “I need to finish something I started a long, long time ago. And then I need to put an end to all the rest of the garbage that keeps making my life insane.” As soon as I’d spoken the words I knew I meant it. I wanted to be done with everything, all the madness and danger and all the crazy nonsense that had followed me over the years.

  I was ready to try my hand at a normal life.

  Or as close to normal as I could get.

  Another pair of arms wrapped around my middle, and I jerked before Penny’s scent found me. “Why are we hugging?” Her question was delayed, given she was already snuggled up to us, but I liked it, so I didn’t complain.

  “Secret needed a hug,” Dominick answered. “Pen, do me a favor and go wake up Desmond.”

  “But you said I shouldn’t—”

  “I know what I told you before. But I need you to do this for me, okay?”

  “’Kay.” Penny withdrew from the hug and clomped up the nearby stairs. For such a skinny girl, she sure managed to make a hell of a racket. Grace stood in the doorway nearby, keeping an eye on us.

  “You keep my boy safe,” she said finally, coming to stand near us. Though she didn’t join in the hug, she gave me a soft pat on the back.

  “I won’t let anything happen to him.” I meant it, but the problem was it wasn’t a promise I was in control of keeping.

  Footsteps creaked upstairs, and I stepped away from Dominick, my gaze following the direction of the sound. Desmond—fully human Desmond—appeared with Penny at the top of the stairs. He looked groggy and was sporting more facial hair than he ought to after only a day without shaving, but otherwise he appeared to be in good condition.

  He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and seemed to realize we were all watching him.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Still dressed in black sweatpants and a light gray long-sleeved shirt, there was something very innocent in his appearance that made me feel bad for rousing him.

  “Something has come up,” I explained. “We need to go.”

  “I was supposed to rest.” He wasn’t really complaining. It was much like hearing a child ask for five more minutes in bed.

  “You can sleep on the plane.” We’d all be sleeping on the plane once daylight broke. “But we have to get going.”

  “The plane?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to meet my grandmere, remember?” I hoped his brain wasn’t too fried after his forced stay in wolf form. He didn’t seem more out of it than I was upon waking up, though. “You think you’re up for another trip?”

  He stared at me, and for a minute I didn’t think he realized who I was. Then the proverbial light switch went on, and he came to his senses within seconds. “Secret? Is everything okay?”

  “No, but is it ever?” I gave Dominick a knowing look, and he barely managed to hide his grin. “It’s Aubrey.”

  Not knowing how much he’d shared about our little jaunt into the fae realm with his family, I couldn’t tell if the name would carry any weight with them. Mama Alvarez’s expression didn’t change, but Dominick’s jaw muscle twitched.

  “What about Aubrey?” Desmond asked carefully.

  “He told Calliope he wants what I owe him. And I’m not quite ready to pay yet.”

  “We have to go,” he announced, as if I hadn’t been saying the exact same thing this entire time.

  “Yes.”

  “Let me grab a couple things. Mom, can I see you upstairs for a minute?” He paused and ruffled Penny’s hair, pulling her in for a long hug. “Looks like I have to put a rain check on breakfast, kiddo.”

  “But I was going to make pancakes.” She gave an exaggerated pout.

  “Next time, I swear.”

  “Can Secret come?”

  I shared an uneasy look with the two werewolves before speaking to their sister. “I’m not a big eater in the mornings. Think maybe we could do pancakes for dinner one night?”

  This idea had apparently never occurred to Penny, who was suddenly a thousand watts brighter thanks to her excitement. “Yeah, like dessert, only breakfast. Mom, can we have whipped cream?”

  “Sure, baby. Just as soon as Secret and your brother get home.” She stared at me as she moved towards the stairs, and I heard the unspoken words loud and clear. You better bring him back.

  I hoped to God I would.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sig seemed all too delighted to offer me the use of a council plane. I doubted he knew about the impending fae threat, but there were enough cases of looming danger he could choose another reason to be glad I was running away. Things were going to hell in a handbasket, and lately every time I tried to fix one problem, ten more came up to replace it.

  Of course, hoping we could get to New Jersey and out of the States before running into trouble was too much to ask.

  Three men stood on the tarmac when I pulled my BMW towards the plane. One wore a tailored sharkskin suit, something I didn’t think people wore anymore, and the other two were dressed like they’d fallen straight out of a game of World of Warcraft.

  Fairies.

  I recognized the one in the suit as Brokk, the fairy Kellen had fallen in love with. He was the main reason we’d ended up on our disastrous quest to the fae realm. But she loved him, so I had to assume he had some redeemable qualities.

  He wasn’t really earning any love from me by standing in the way of my exit, though.

  I put the car into park and killed the engine. “Stay here,” I instructed the boys, not totally sure they would listen. I debated grabbing my sword from the back, but it didn’t seem like a great idea to charge in swinging. I had my guns if things got nasty.

  Brokk met me halfway between the plane and my car.

  “Brokk.” I gave him a nod of greeting.

  “Queen McQueen.” He smirked at the title while I grimaced inwardly. Being called Princess was bad enough. Queen McQueen was just awful.

  “Secret is fine.”

  “Very well. I gather the Oracle called you to relay His Majesty’s message?”

  “She did.” Funny how Calliope was still considered the Oracle even by the fae. She was the sister to their king, yet they treated her like a mysterious, otherworldly creature.

  P
erhaps it was the half-god in her that made them uneasy.

  I know it freaked me out if I thought about it too long.

  “Yet you appear to be leaving us.”

  “Yeah, funny how you knew exactly where to find me.”

  “Are you really surprised we were able to? We always know where to look. Aubrey has had his eye on you ever since you left us. He’s become quite intrigued by you.”

  “I bet he has.”

  “But he has begun to fear your horrible end may be nigh. He would like to see he gets what you owe him before you die.”

  Wasn’t that charming?

  “My horrible end?”

  “Yes.”

  Gee, I sure hoped Aubrey didn’t have his sister’s gift of foresight.

  “Here’s the deal, Brokk. You and your knights can go back to Aubrey and tell him I still plan to follow through on our arrangement. But I have something else I need to do first. Once that’s out of the way, I will come back here and he can name his price. Deal?”

  “Ah.” He smiled at me like I was a child, which given how old he must be, I probably was by comparison. “Promises to keep and miles to go before you sleep, yes?”

  “If you want to phrase it like a drunk Irishman, sure.”

  “Why should I believe you have any intention of returning? Would not your life be easier if you never came back?”

  “My life won’t be easy anywhere. Running away won’t change anything.”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and regarded me thoughtfully. “I believe you. Which is the strangest thing.”

  “Thanks? I think.”

  “But I’ve been sent with instructions from the King, you understand. I cannot possibly just let you go.”

  “Dude, I don’t want this to get bloody, but if I’m being honest, I will blow your head off and step over your corpse if you try to get between me and my plane.”

  “And leave my beautiful wife a widow?” He clucked his tongue, clearly unimpressed by my threat.

  I didn’t want to leave Kellen a widow. I hadn’t wanted to return her to the fairies either, though. “Kellen made her choice and married you. That’s fine. But she abandoned everyone in this realm who loved her. I might feel bad for killing you, but I don’t tend to let little things like a conscience get in the way of my violent outbursts these days.”

  That got his attention, because suddenly he wasn’t smug and chuckling anymore. Good boy, Brokk. Play this one smart.

  I straightened my posture and stared him dead in the eye. “I give you my word. My most solemn motherfucking promise, I will come back here. And I will go to Aubrey. And he can make his damned request. But I have stuff I need to do. So get out of my way and let me do it.”

  Brokk snapped his fingers, and the two armored guards drew near. He said something to them in a speedy, beautiful language that brought a sweet taste to my tongue just to listen to it. One man began to say something in return, but Brokk raised a hand and dismissed them.

  I wasn’t sure if they’d arrived here by magic or by car, but either way the fairy guards were no longer my problem as they wandered off the tarmac and out of sight.

  “Hit me.” He tipped his head to the side, presenting his perfectly chiseled jawbone to me.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Hit me,” he repeated.

  “Oh, I heard you the first time. I just have no idea why you’re asking me to do it.”

  “I can’t simply let you go, as I’ve already explained.”

  “So you want me to hit you.”

  “Yes. And I need you to make it look good.”

  I felt like an idiot for not catching on sooner to what his request meant. It was so difficult for me to believe a supposed enemy might do something nice for me that I couldn’t actually process the gesture for what it was.

  Brokk was letting me go.

  “Sorry if this hurts,” I muttered.

  “I think you’ll find it’s awfully difficult to hurt m—”

  My hard right hook smashed into his face, sending him reeling backwards a few feet. He staggered before regaining his balance, and rubbed his jaw with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Not bad, Secret. But I think you can do better.” He lunged at me with a quickness I hadn’t expected, and my mouth must have fallen open in surprise, because when his uppercut punch made contact with my face, my teeth clacked together.

  I stayed standing where I’d been and shook off the force of the blow. Behind me a car door opened, and though I couldn’t tell if it was Holden or Desmond trying to come to my rescue, I waved my hand over my head. “It’s fine. Stay there.”

  Brokk chuckled. “You think you can manage all by yourself?”

  “I think I could have managed you and the two knights together without needing backup,” I lied.

  Since this wasn’t a real fight, or at least not my typical fight to the death, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. A thrill of enjoyment. This was fun. I hadn’t sparred with anyone in quite a while, and I longed for the old days when Nolan, Shane and I would break into school gyms so I could teach them survival skills.

  Brokk, too, appeared to be enjoying himself, as his grin got broader with each passing minute.

  “Come on then. Strike at me. And not like a girl this time.”

  Like a girl? “Bitch, it’s on.”

  I ran towards him, and when I was only a few feet away, I leapt into the air, driving my feet into his chest with a powerful kick that sent us both sprawling to the tarmac on our backs. He let out a wheeze, and I kicked my feet up, landing back in a crouch.

  I thought perhaps I’d bested him, but a moment later he was behind me, pinning one of my arms behind me and using the other to drive me face first into the asphalt. I hit the tarmac hard. “Son of a bi—”

  “Language,” he warned, straightening my other arm to the point of breaking.

  I’d had my arm broken recently. Too recently. Brokk couldn’t have known he had grabbed the same limb The Doctor had mangled, but all the same, the memories came pouring back.

  “Twenty-one hours,” I choked out. “It takes twenty-one hours.” I fought against the sob building in my throat, and this time I won, swallowing it down like a lump.

  “What?”

  Though I hadn’t intended to use my own breakdown against Brokk, his grip loosened nonetheless. Returning to a state of battle-hardened clarity, I blinked away my tears and jerked my arm free from his grasp. Rolling onto my back with him straddling my sides, I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down, careful to use an angle that wouldn’t break his bones. This was a tussle, after all, not a war. I flipped him backwards and used the pull of his weight to take me with him, so I landed in a sitting position on his chest with his arms pinned beneath my knees.

  “Yield,” I told him.

  “Make it look good.”

  I punched him one last time, a hard shot across the cheek that barely avoided his pretty aquiline nose. Didn’t want to send him home to Kellen too deformed. Brokk groaned. “Okay. Yes. Yield.”

  Climbing to my feet, I considered leaving him lying on the tarmac, but thought better of it and offered him a hand up.

  “Good fight. Sorry if I ruined your suit.” I smiled at him, and he rubbed his tender cheek before smiling back, though it seemed to hurt him.

  “You’re better than most give you credit for, Your Majesty. You are, indeed, something special. It’s no wonder he’s so interested.”

  I nodded and brushed gravel from my palms onto my jeans. “Well, he’s immortal. He can wait a few more days.”

  “Indeed, I believe he can. Take heed, though, this journey of yours is likely to be filled with perils.”

  “It’s a good thing I wasn’t hoping for a nice, relaxing vacation then, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Canadian stereotypes tended to really bother me.

  I didn’t grow up in an igloo, or say aboot. I certainly wasn’t all that polit
e—though I think that might have been more of a personal failing on my part. I barely watched hockey. Basically, I often sneered at the jokes people told when they discovered I was raised in the Great White North.

  But one of them was true.

  Canada was cold.

  Like, really cold.

  And it wasn’t winter yet.

  After spending the day on the plane parked at a small rural airport outside Steinbach, we emerged into the Manitoba night and were greeted by a blast of chilly air. Summers were humid and stifling, but the transition from summer to winter seemed to bypass autumn entirely some years, giving the air a frosty, unpleasant quality.

  I was grateful for my strange body temperature, because even though I could feel the cold it didn’t bother me too much. Desmond ran so hot I doubted he would notice, and Holden didn’t get cold either. We were the perfect travelers for the climate.

  The rental car I’d ordered before leaving New Jersey was parked near the plane with the keys in the glove box as I’d requested. It was only an hour drive from Steinbach to Elmwood, which meant we’d arrive right around dinnertime.

  Before leaving the airport, I called Grandmere’s house. After a half-dozen rings it went to voicemail.

  Don’t panic, I reminded myself. She has Callum’s wolves with her.

  Since I didn’t have Ben’s or Fairfax’s numbers, all I could do was take deep, soothing breaths and tell myself everything would be fine. Handing my phone off to Holden, I said, “Can you please keep trying her? I just want to know she’s okay.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  In the backseat Desmond shuffled restlessly. I half-expected him to ask, Are we there yet? I could understand his unease. Werewolves didn’t like to be cooped up, and I’d taken him from a plane to a car in quick succession. I assumed he had spent most of his time on the jet sleeping since he’d been conked out when my nightmares woke me at sundown.

  “How you doing back there?” I was momentarily distracted from my worry over Grandmere, which was something of a relief. If I had to spend a full hour in the car mulling over everything that could possibly have gone wrong, I would lose my mind. More than I already had. Plus we would hit a cellular dead zone in a few miles, and Holden wouldn’t be able to keep trying the home phone.

 

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