Retribution of Sins

by J. L. McCoy

  “I’ve never seen her so angry, Archer. She will never forgive me for what they did to her house.”

  “Time heals all wounds,” he said, tilting my face up so our eyes met. “She will forgive you, my love. It’s just going to take some time to get over all the things that have happened to her. Nikki will see that none of this was really your doing. She will understand one day.”

  “No, she won’t.” I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering with emotion. “You don’t know her like I do. Losing her house... this... she won’t forgive.”

  “We will replace her house, Skye, and yours. I’ll put a call into my builder tonight.”

  “I don’t have the money to hire a builder, Archer,” I said, hanging my head. “I just cleared out my bank account and gave it all to Dean so he could give it to Nikki. How the hell am I going to afford to fix this? I don’t even know where to start. How do I fix this for her?”

  “Baby.” H grabbed my chin between this thumb and index finger and lifted my head once more. “I have more money than I can spend in ten immortal lifetimes. And I’ve told you before, my money is your money for you to spend any way you want. You are my life partner, Skye. What’s mine is yours. I’d give you the world if only you asked, Cion. Always.”

  “Why are you so good to me?” I asked, searching his eyes, trying to understand. I’d never had a man act so selfless or treat me as well as Archer did. He was such an amazing man, and I felt I didn’t deserve him.

  “Because I love you,” he said gently, his eyes falling to my lips before rising again to stare deeply into mine. “You’re my everything, Skye. You deserve the world. Why won’t you see that?”

  “Reading my mind again?” I questioned, cringing a bit. Sometimes I just wanted to have my thoughts to myself, especially when they were of the self-deprecating variety.

  You know how this works, love. It’s a two-way street, he answered silently.

  “Touché.”

  “Let me help you,” he whispered as he leaned his head down to rest his forehead against mine, “please. There is very little I can do to erase what Stanus, Weston, and Lucian did to you, but I can at least do this. I’ll call the builder tonight, and we can meet with him tomorrow to discuss specifics and get the ball rolling on clean up.”

  “I can’t believe you would do this for me... for us. It means so much to me, Archer, more than I could ever convey.”

  “The look of absolute adoration you have in your eyes right now is all the thanks I need,” he said tenderly before gently kissing my lips.

  “I always look at you this way.” I chuckled, pulling back a bit.

  “I know.” He smiled widely before lowering his head to kiss me again.

  “Och! Get’ta room ye’ two!” Lochlan complained as he got up from the kitchen table to put his now empty glass of blood in the sink.

  “Envy is an ugly shade of green, sugar.” Trey swatted Lochlan’s arm as he passed him. “You’ll find your mate one day and be just like these two, just you wait and see.”

  “That would require a woman actually being able to stomach his presence,” Aoife said sassily as she stepped into the kitchen, fully dressed for tonight’s shift at The Mausoleum. “And we know that’s never going to happen.”

  “I’mma stud, woman,” Lochlan scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “You wish you had a man like me in your bed.”

  “I’d prefer the final death,” she bit back, straight-faced and serious.

  A snicker escaped my lips as the entire room went silent. All eyes turned toward me, and I couldn’t help but get in my own jab. “Maybe it’s you two who should be getting the room.”

  Lochlan and Aoife’s eyes met quickly, and for a brief second, I thought I saw sheer panic in their shared gaze, but the look was fleeting as Jameson walked into the room.

  “I’m starving,” he called out as he headed toward us. “Someone throw me a bag of blood.”

  “You look a little better,” I commented, fully turning to him. “Your cheeks have more color.”

  “Well, they should. I’ve downed about twelve pints today. Can’t seem to get enough. The healing I did last night really took it out of me.” He stopped in front of me, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized my face. “You don’t look so good, Skye. Have you eaten?”

  “Of course.”c I frowned, turning my head slightly away. I didn’t want him worrying about me. “I just need a nap, that’s all.”

  “Why don’t you stay home tonight,” Archer suggested, laying one hand on my shoulder. “We can cover you.”

  The thought of staying in and sleeping was amazing, but I just couldn’t allow myself to do it. Archer was going to pay to have my home rebuilt, and I needed to work for the money. As much as I sincerely appreciated his generosity, I didn’t want it to seem like I was taking advantage of him.

  “I’m good, sweetheart.” I smiled, hoping against all hope it looked as genuine and energetic as I’d intended it to. “Let me just go change and I’ll be ready to go.”

  “So stubborn,” Hagan commented lightheartedly under his breath from his spot on the couch.

  “I heard that, sir,” I said, briefly leaning down to whisper in his ear as I passed him on my way to Archer’s room.

  Chapter Five

  Two weeks had passed with no word from Atticus or Dean, and I was starting to get a little antsy. I wanted more than anything to know how Nikki was doing, but took Dean’s silence as a sign that she was doing okay. If she wasn’t, Dean would have called. Same with Atticus’s situation. I assumed everything must have been kosher at the New York compound and took his radio silence as a blessing. I still wanted to find and gut that bastard Stanus Octavius one day, but it would have to wait. I had too much on my plate at the moment to handle anything extra.

  A sharp pain in my side ripped me from my inner thoughts and my eyes refocused on Hagan. “Dammit! Will you stop stabbing me!” I barked as I looked down at the rapidly healing remains of the wound between two ribs.

  “If you had your head in the game, Morrison, you wouldn’t keep getting stabbed!” he growled right back as he attacked me again.

  I quickly flitted out of the way, narrowly avoiding another collision with his dagger, and slashed out at him. “This is the third shirt you’ve ruined this week. Getting a little tired of your shit, sir.” I frowned, emphasizing the moniker sarcastically.

  “Been tired of yours,” he scoffed, effortlessly flipping his eight-inch dagger in his hand as we circled each other. “You’ve been mopey and moody ever since the battle with the Dark. So your best friend doesn’t want you to do each other’s nails anymore, get over it. There are bigger things in this life you need to be worrying about.”

  “Like what?” I demanded, my brow furrowing. “There are few things in this life more important to me than Nikki. She’s my fucking heart, and she hates me, Hagan. Do you have any idea what this is doing to me?”

  “Yes, I do, but she’s not important to your survival and, thus, is not important to me. Your powers have gotten out, and everyone knows what you’re capable of now. There’s no telling who will come after you, whether to use you for your gifts or try and get rid of you. You need to be prepared for the possibility of that happening. It’s my job to make sure you’re ready for anything, and I can’t very well do my job if you are pouting about pointless shit, Morrison. I’m trying to turn you into a warrior, but I can’t do that if you keep acting like a girl!”

  “Ugh!” I scoffed indignantly, before narrowing my eyes at him. “Fine. You want a fight? I’ll give you a fight, old man.” With that, I launched into my next attack, catching Hagan on guard and ready for the fight. He knew he could get results when he pushed my buttons, and I wished I could see what he was doing at the time instead of after the fact; it would have saved me a lot of needless anger.

  “Good!” Hagan praised gruffly as I broke through his defense, cutting a deep, diagonal gash into his bare chest. “Finally you decide to show
up today!”

  “Can the crap!” I bit out, before dropping down and sweeping his legs out from under him with mine. As he started to topple, I rose quickly and dove on top of him, throwing my dagger aside in favor of my fists.

  Hagan recovered fast and flipped us both over, me on my back with him regaining the upper hand and elevation advantage. We grappled for a few minutes, him trying to lock my body down and me fighting like a wet, pissed-off cat to get away.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, gazing down at me in satisfaction as he finally pinned me. “No wonder Stanus was able to get away on that plane. You’ve allowed yourself to become slow and distracted. If this is how it’s going to be, I’m not going to waste my time training you any longer. You’ve given up, haven’t you?”

  “The fuck I have!” I growled angrily between clenched teeth, bucking wildly beneath him. I managed to free an arm and immediately sent it upward to his face. The loud crack that followed was momentarily satisfying as I paid him back for the punch he gave me a few minutes before.

  Using every ounce of strength I had in me, I used the brief distraction to wretch my other arm free and throw him off me. Hagan’s body shot across the room, faster and farther than I had intended, and crashed heavily into the glass weapons case in the corner. Glass exploded outward, throwing its sharp shards all the way over to where my now sitting body resided. Small glass bullets embedded themselves in my bare skin as I turned my face away and shielded my eyes with my forearm.

  When all the glass had finally settled, I heard Hagan groan and I uncovered my eyes to inspect the damage to him and the room. Glass was everywhere and the weapons case was in pieces. I watched as Hagan slowly sat up and assessed himself.

  “Shit.” I grimaced, noticing the large pieces of glass sticking out of him. I rushed over and helped him stand. “I’m sorry. I don’t realize my strength sometimes.”

  Extracting a particularly large wedge of glass out of his face, he winced. “At least you finally gave it everything you had. I’ve been waiting for you to get your head out of your ass for two bloody weeks.”

  Tsking, I grabbed at another shard and quickly slid it out. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” He winced again. “Just pull.” Obeying, I grabbed another piece and carefully pulled it out of his flesh.

  Just then I heard the door at the top of the basement open, and Padraig call down. “Skye. Telephone.”

  Who the hell would be calling me this early in the morning? “I’m a little busy at the moment,” I answered back, holding still as Hagan plucked a piece of glass out of my arm. “Can you take a message?”

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew my attention, and I watched Jameson descend.

  “You guys broke another one?” he asked, surprised as he surveyed the damage. “That’s the fourth case in two months.”

  “It was an accident,” I replied defensively, removing the last shard from Hagan’s scalp. “If Hagan wasn’t so antagonistic all the time, I wouldn’t get so pissed off and accidents like this could be avoided.”

  “Bollox,” Hagan scoffed, roughly yanking out the last piece of glass from my forearm. “You’re always pissed off.”

  “Okay, so maybe I’ve been a little moody these past few weeks,” I conceded begrudgingly, knowing he was sort of right, “but you could have been a little more understanding and patient with me. Instead, you push and poke the bear.”

  “I do it for your own good,” he growled, grabbing my arm and jerking me closer to him. “I’m not here to coddle you. You think I like talking down to you, belittling you? Fuck no! I do it because it gets me results, makes you fight back; it makes you more focused and a better warrior. Sometimes it’s the only way I can get your full attention. I don’t enjoy pushing you that hard, but I will if it’ll keep you alive and safe. Our training sessions will save your life one day, mark my words. I hope my theory is never tested, but chances are it will be. You are a lethal weapon, Morrison, and as such, you have a responsibility to be your best self, in all areas of your life, at all times. Get pissed at me, dislike my tactics, I don’t give a fuck. At least your ass will be alive!”

  “Nothing can kill me.” I frowned, witnessing barely masked worry on his face. “You know this.”

  “There’s always a way to die,” he grumbled, lowering his voice as his brow furrowed deeply. “I pray the sword of Saint Patrick is never allowed in the wrong hands. That for sure will end your life.”

  “Archer has it somewhere safe, guarded around the clock,” Jameson provided, jumping back into the conversation.

  “For now,” Hagan replied ominously, seriousness straining the lines of his handsome, rugged face.

  “Skye,” Archer called down from the first floor, his voice solemn. “Can you come up here, please? I need to see you for a moment.”

  “I’ll get the broom.” Jameson shook his head with a small smile.

  “I’ll help,” Hagan offered, and I reluctantly left the men to the cleanup.

  The tone in Archer’s voice had me worried, and I hurriedly shook the rest of the glass from my clothes before flashing up the stairs.

  When I reached the top, he laid a hand on my shoulder and held out my cell phone. “It’s been ringing nonstop for the past thirty minutes. Trey thought it might have been an emergency, so he answered it.”

  “Who is it?” I asked as I stared down at the muted phone.

  “Atticus Frost.”

  What? Swallowing thickly, I hesitantly accepted the phone, looking down at the screen. If Atticus was calling me personally, it couldn’t have been good news. Last I spoke with him, we’d been a little less than friendly toward each other.

  Taking a deep breath, I nodded to Archer, thanking him, and hit the unmute button. “This is Skye.”

  “Miss Morrison,” Atticus greeted in his no-nonsense way.

  “Mr. Frost.”

  “I thought you’d like to know that we’ve found your father.”

  The air whooshed out of my lungs as he delivered the news. I was stunned, surprised, and curious. “Where was he?” My voice came out unusually timid.

  “Costa Rica. He was hiding out with a well-known militant faction. Not the paramount location to choose for one wishing to hide from me, though. It was the first place I sent my men.”

  My mouth went dry as my nerves took over. Is my father still alive? Did they execute him for his betrayal? I tried as best I could to steady my nerves before asking the question I most wanted to know. “Is he alive?”

  “Of course he’s alive.” Atticus seemed surprised by my question. “Your father must stand trial for his crimes. I wouldn’t deny myself the pleasure of such an event. Speaking of trial,” he continued quickly, “that’s the reason I’m calling you today. I would like to invite you to the proceedings, seeing as how you are his only living relative... and the fact that you helped save my throne. I wouldn’t normally invite Day back into my compound, but for you, and only you, I will make an exception... as a one-time courtesy.”

  I was speechless for a moment. Part of me wanted to jump at the chance to confront my scheming, lying, betraying sperm donor, but the other didn’t want to go anywhere near him. I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought it over.

  “I don’t have all day, Miss Morrison,” he said impatiently.

  “I’ll come,” I answered automatically, half surprised by my answer. “When is the trial?”

  “Tomorrow night. Once you arrive in New York City, contact Corvus and he will arrange your transportation. Only you will be allowed to enter our compound, so I suggest you come alone. And please wear something... appropriately fetching,” he added thoughtfully, “as it will be a black-tie event.”

  He’s treating my father’s trial like it’s a fucking party? That did not bode well for Lucian’s future, but I couldn’t think of that at the moment; I had other, more pressing concerns. “Do I have your word that I’ll be safe?” I asked, remembering how they’d kidnapped and dru
gged me the last time I’d seen them.

  “You will be my guest,” Atticus answered sternly, seemingly pissed that I’d insult him with such a suggestion. “I don’t know how you Day do it, but we Dark do not harm our guests.”

  “Don’t give me that self-righteous crap, Frost,” I barked, finding my backbone. “It was a valid question and you know it.”

  “Touché, Miss Morrison. Touché.” With that, he hung up the phone and left me reeling in his absence.

  “I’m going with you,” Archer said softly, breaking me out of my trance.

  “No, you can’t,” I replied, putting my hand on his chest. “You have the meeting with the builders tomorrow.”

  “I’ll reschedule.” He lifted my hand from his chest and placed a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist.

  “You know how important rebuilding the house is to me, Archer.”

  “And you know how important you are to me,’ he replied patiently.

  “The best thing you can do right now to help me is to get Nikki her house back. I don’t even care about mine at this point. I just want to make this right for her. You didn’t see her face, babe; she was hella angry and will not be forgiving me anytime in this lifetime. Our friendship is over. Finished. I can deal with that, because I have no choice. After all, she’s human and I’m vampire. My life is too dangerous now that I’ve been reborn to allow her in it. It’s been proven she’ll only get hurt. But, if I can make this right for her, at least I’ll rest easy knowing I did everything in my power I could to right the wrongs done to her.”

  “I don’t want you going alone, Skye, and that’s final,” he said gently, but forcefully. “I don’t trust them.”

  “I don’t either, but I have no choice,” I whispered as I shook my head, looking up into his crystal clear blue eyes, begging him to understand. “I have to take Atticus at his word. This is something I need to do, Archer. This may be my only chance to talk to my father, and I must take it; I have to ask him why he did this to me. I need to hear it direct from him... in person.”