Half-Blood Secrets: A Paranormal Series (Half-Bloods Book 2)

by Natasha Brown

  “What?” Verity’s blue eyes widened. “What happened?”

  Deane shrugged and answered honestly, “I don’t know. Ye’ll have to ask yer brother about that.”

  “Thank you, I will,” she said and went for the stairs. “If you would excuse me.”

  He watched her follow her brother to the second floor and crossed the foyer, resting his hand on the knob. He opened and shut the door loudly before creeping closer to the stairs to listen to their muffled voices.

  “Julian?” Verity peered into the lounge and found him lying on the settee.

  Her brother’s hand was draped across his forehead, and his chest was rising and falling in quick rhythm. His eyes looked her way, and he shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell just happened.”

  She squatted by his side, noticing the red marks on his neck. Her blood pressure rose as she stared at the handprints. “Do you need anything? Ice? Water?”

  He shook his head. “I just need to recover. If it hadn’t been for Deane, I might not have survived that psycho.”

  “What do you mean?” Verity placed her hand on Julian’s chest, sensing his rapid heartrate.

  Julian took a few long, slow breaths and recounted what had happened.

  Verity tried to control her anger while she brushed Julian’s hair from his eyes. “Afterward, did Deane ask what the fight was about?”

  “No, he just walked me to the house and suggested I lie down.”

  Verity pinched her lips together while she thought about the possibilities. “Do you think Piers could have been one of those changelings Dolan mentioned?”

  “Yeah, could have been. I wouldn’t know, would I?” he frowned. “It’s not like I hang out with changelings every day.”

  She stood up and paced to the far end of the room and looked out the window to the bay. “Dolan said they were dangerous. Do you think Piers will come back?”

  “Anything’s possible, I’d say.”

  Verity turned around to lean against the sill. “What was all that about Father? Why would they want to know where he came from?”

  Julian stared at her from the settee cushion. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  She had never met any other vampires besides her brothers and sister and their offspring. They were the only ones of their kind, as far as she knew. The topic of her father’s ancestry was something that never came up and was avoided at all costs.

  “I’ve always wondered…” Julian mused. He was resting his palm on his forehead with his fingers curling into his hair. “Where did Lycos come from?”

  Verity shared in her brother’s curiosity and nodded. “Me too.”

  The room went silent except for the soft sound from the ceiling fan. They blinked at each other.

  “I guess Dolan wasn’t lying.” Verity shrugged. “So much for thinking Father had ulterior motives for calling us home.”

  She studied her brother as he lay on the settee. She couldn’t let anything happen to him. If they were in danger from the changelings, it was imperative that they wrap things up quickly to return home. It wasn’t her veterinary business that she worried about—it was Julian’s gator park. He cared so much for his “girls,” she hesitated to suggest they leave immediately. As much as he seemed to like the handsome Irishman, she knew Julian didn’t want to abandon the gators to someone he’d barely trained.

  “You’re worried.” He sat upright.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Julian tilted his head against the back cushion and exhaled. “You have on your worried face.”

  She couldn’t keep anything from him—he knew her too well. “Changelings, Father, leaving the life we chose for ourselves. What’s to stress about?”

  “Sounds like it’s time for jazz therapy.” He tried to grin at her, but discomfort creased his eyes.

  Verity shook her head. “No. Not today. We can’t just pretend it’s a normal day. A few chords can’t take away what just happened to you. I could have lost you.”

  Just when she’d been satisfied with their quiet existence, convinced that their beachside life would be enough, the rug was pulled out beneath her. She should have known better. Life had never been easy for them. Why should that change?

  Deane stood on the steps, listening in to their conversation. His mind moved rapidly, trying to parse the new information.

  Their father was Lycos, the man Ramsay had wanted to take Aerilyn to as some sort of gift so he could taste her blood for himself. That wasn’t the sort of thing a benevolent being did. It seemed clear that Verity and Julian were unhappy at the thought of going home. Maybe they didn’t participate in the same kind of lifestyle as Ramsay. It was a possibility. After all, Riley wasn’t malicious like his father.

  Clearly not all blood-suckers were interested in harming others. Just like shifters. His job existed to ensure the shifters who lived by the rules weren’t affected by those who didn’t. He had yet to observe Verity or Julian drinking human blood. They certainly didn’t strike him as dangerous. Maybe these siblings could be trusted, he pondered.

  From his shorts pocket, a chime sounded. Deane’s eyes widened, and he hurried down the steps as quietly as possible. When he reached the entry, another chime dinged. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it.

  “Did you hear that?” a voice asked from upstairs.

  He hurried into the exam room and closed the door just short of latching it and making noise. Floorboards creaked upstairs, and footsteps moved toward the stairs. He had no time. He had to hide and quick. Deane couldn’t get caught in Verity’s clinic. They would know something wasn’t right. So he did what seemed obvious to him. Beside her desk, he peeled off his shirt, unbuttoned his shorts and closed his eyes, calling to the power sparking at his core.

  Energy coursed through his pores. Feathers pulled at his skin, and he shrank down. The desk loomed over him like a monolith. His eyes blinked as he searched for a place to hide. Deane’s talons climbed over his mound of clothing and clattered on the floorboards as he scurried under Verity’s workspace and realized it was too open. They’d see him in an instant. He rotated his neck and looked up at the wall-mounted cupboards above her desk. Perfect.

  Deane moved into the center of the room and flapped his wings. He flew up to the top of the cabinets and tucked in his wings just as the exam room door swung open. He held stock still, eyes wide as he watched Verity peer into the space.

  “It was digital, like a phone chiming.” She walked up to the metal exam table and turned for the doorway. “You heard it, right?”

  Julian’s voice answered, “No, I didn’t.”

  Verity sighed and shook her head. “Maybe I’m going crazy. Too much stress.”

  “Let me make you a drink,” Julian said from somewhere outside of the room.

  She took a few steps toward the door. “But it isn’t five yet.”

  “C’mon. I’m calling it. It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

  Deane took a deep breath, relieved, as he watched her reach the threshold. Then Verity turned, and her eyes went to her desk and lifted to the cupboards. She stopped in place, her eyes locking with Deane’s.

  “What?” she muttered.

  Julian’s head popped around the corner of the door and adjusted to look in the direction she was raptly staring. He stood beside her and folded his arms with a quizzical frown. “Did it fly in through a window?”

  “The windows are latched.” Verity reached for the door and swung it shut. Then she took a step closer to her desk while her gaze held on Deane.

  If they didn’t notice his clothing pile, there was still a possibility he could get out of the situation. They could free him outside. One could hope. He made a soft hooting sound to play the part.

  “Do you have a net or something?” Julian asked.

  Verity continued to stare at the owl on her cupboards. Her blue eyes bore into him with intensity as she muttered, “What if it’s one of them? A changeling—the one who attacked yo
u?”

  She reached for a heavy wooden apothecary cabinet, withdrawing a pair of scissors from a drawer, and pointed them at Deane.

  The possibility of getting out of this without a hitch was fading away with every beat of his heart. Deane stood still as her eyes settled on the pile of clothing on the floor. Damn.

  She pointed at them with her free hand. “Whose clothes are those?”

  Julian craned to look around her at the floor.

  Verity inhaled and said with a shaky voice, “Okay, changeling. I know you’re not really an owl, so stop pretending. Show yourself.”

  Seven

  Deane held still as he studied them both. Things hadn’t worked out to plan. He weighed his options. If he revealed himself to them, he’d be breaking one of the Society’s most important laws. Although, he debated with himself, the blood-suckers were already aware of their existence. Things had started off badly with Ramsay, and a war between breeds was the last thing he wanted. If Deane did or said the wrong thing, he could be responsible for setting off a chain of events that would affect his kind forever.

  He parted his beak and ruffled his feathers. He’d been doing this a long time—enforcing the Society’s laws. He might not have had any experience with blood-suckers, but he knew how to read people. Julian and Verity hadn’t given him any reason to distrust them. He decided to risk it.

  Deane flew down to Verity’s chair and perched on its back. She continued to extend the scissor point and backed up until she stood beside her brother. “Don’t give me reason to hurt you. I will protect myself.”

  Deane hopped down to the floor and called to his power, altering him back to his human form. Standing naked behind Verity’s exam table, he cupped his groin and looked at the siblings.

  Their expressions summed up their clear surprise. Julian’s mouth gaped open, and Verity’s eyes bulged as she stared at him. “Horsefeathers!”

  “You?” Julian questioned in awe. “You’re a changeling? But you were so nice.”

  Verity’s eyes combed over Deane’s bare flesh and scoffed at her brother. “He was pulling your leg the whole time, Julian. Just trying to get us to like him, to trust him. He’s a liar.”

  Deane cleared his throat, feeling more than a little exposed. “That isn’t fair, now. I wasn’t lying any more than ye do, living yer life here, pretending to be mundanes.”

  “Mundanes?” Verity scowled.

  “Aye, the normal people living around us. Those without special abilities.” Deane tried to ignore both of their stares, but it was hard to when he didn’t have on a stitch of clothing. It made for an uncomfortable interrogation.

  Julian folded his arms. “So tell me, why did your friend attack me?”

  “Friend?” Deane’s agitation roiled beneath the surface, and his accent thickened. “That effin’ eejit was no friend of mine. Never seen him before. I pulled him off of ye because I couldn’t stand by and let ye get crushed like a can. That’s a right good way to say thanks.”

  “How can we trust anything he says?” Verity’s eyes narrowed.

  Julian gave a half grin and raised his hands. “Look at the guy. He’s literally naked, and he seems like he’s telling the truth.”

  “You must be on giggle juice.” She did a double take at her brother and his softened expression. “Just because there’s a rugged man dripping with sex appeal standing naked in our house isn’t reason enough to trust him.”

  It didn’t pass by Deane’s notice that she’d basically called him sexy. He cleared his throat and bent to reach for his clothing. Verity stiffened and stepped closer with her scissors. He paused and grit his teeth. “Do ye mind if I put my drawers on? I don’t have a weapon or anything.”

  She lowered her hand and nodded, so he grabbed his briefs and turned around to put them on. He didn’t care he was giving them a full view of his backside, he was just relieved to have some fabric covering himself so he could have a serious conversation without feeling objectified. Deane put on his shorts and faced them with his shirt in his hands. “Listen, I think ye need to hear where we’re coming from before ye get yerselves all worked up.”

  “We won’t stop you from talking.” Verity backed up once again. “Though it doesn’t mean we’ll believe anything you say.”

  “Fair enough.” Deane shrugged. “This all started with a man named Ramsay.”

  He noticed Verity and Julian exchange wary glances.

  “I take it ye know him?” he asked.

  Julian nodded. “He’s our brother.”

  Deane hoped he wasn’t making a mistake divulging the events that had led him to Florida. “Well, yer brother came through Denver. He attacked, abducted and fed on our own. As ye can imagine, that wasn’t a very good introduction to yer kind. We can’t have blood-suck… beings feeding on and attacking us. It will be taken as an act of aggression.”

  Another telling look passed between the two siblings. Julian sighed. “Sounds like Ramsay.”

  Verity’s face contorted into disbelief and anger. “He said you were dangerous.”

  “What’s that?” Deane wasn’t following.

  She pressed her hand to her temple. “Our eldest brother, Dolan, said your kind were dangerous. That you killed Ramsay, Quinn and one of Ramsay’s offspring. That you kidnapped our nephew.”

  Maybe telling the truth had been a mistake. Deane kept his eyes on the scissors in Verity’s lowered hand. The best way forward was through. He rubbed his jaw and leveled a serious expression her way. “Not everything he told ye was a lie, just a little twisted. Ramsay murdered his own son’s mother, kidnapped the boy along with one of our own. We couldn’t stand by and let that happen, so we rescued them. There was… collateral damage.”

  Julian stepped close enough to Verity to touch her arm and said under his breath, “You know Ramsay as well as anyone. He went and got himself killed. It was inevitable the way he lived. Be honest with yourself—you know it’s true.”

  Verity focused on Deane. “So why are you here?”

  Deane shrugged. “We want to know if the rest of yer kind are a threat, if we have warrant for concern. The way Ramsay carried on, he seemed to think our blood was pretty special to yer kind.”

  “Just great.” Verity swore and pinched her eyes shut. “And what about our nephew? Is he your prisoner?”

  Deane puffed out his chest. “Prisoner? We’re caring for the lad better than Ramsay was. He’s like one of our own. What kind of people do ye think we are?”

  Verity’s lids flipped open. “Do you really think changelings know how to rear a vampire?”

  Deane stepped forward and pointed at her. “I think I’ll do a might better than that sociopath he had for a father! The boy’s got to live with the fact he killed his da.”

  Verity’s hand went to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned to Julian, who hugged her. Deane thought he heard her whisper, “I hate our family.”

  “So where’s this leave us?” Julian asked over Verity’s shoulder. “Are your kind coming to kill us all?”

  “I cannot speak for the Grand Consul, but it all depends on ye.” Deane cleared his throat. “I only came here to find out if all of ye are dangerous and organized for a fight.”

  Verity straightened and looked her brother in the eye. They had a silent exchange until Verity finally turned to him. “I can’t speak for the rest of my family, but Julian and I will have no part in any fight.”

  Deane was relieved to hear the two weren’t itching to throw gasoline on the fire. He felt the vibration of his phone ringing in silence and reached to pull it out of his back pocket. It was Emery.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Verity demanded.

  He looked at them and spoke earnestly, “Listen, I need to take this. It’s my partner, she’ll be worried I’m not answering and could send the cavalry. Ye don’t want that now.”

  Verity seemed uncomfortable with him holding his phone to his ear, but unless she was going to rip it from his grasp
, he was taking it. He touched the screen to accept the call.

  “I’m kind of in the middle of something…” Deane went silent. Emery’s stream of words filled his ear, and he rocked his head back in disbelief. “What do ye mean he’s gone?”

  Verity knew what bad news looked like. An unsettled feeling sank into the pit of her stomach.

  It was a lot to take in all at once. The idea that they’d been spied on without their knowledge for the past week or more. She was still unsure whether their lives were currently at risk. Verity knew her father well enough to understand he wasn’t to be trusted implicitly, and what Deane had said about Ramsay sounded believable. Her brother had been reckless and dangerous. Even though she knew her family was despicable in many ways, she knew what to expect from them. The only wild card in all of this was the Irishman. She wanted to trust him, but trust didn’t come easy.

  The changeling turned away to conclude a muttered phone conversation. “Hold tight, I’ll leave right away and pick ye up, and we’ll join the search. Aye, and I’ll give him a call.”

  Deane touched his phone’s screen and pocketed the device. He sighed deeply and raked his fingers through his hair. When he faced them again, his eyes were troubled and filled with worry.

  Beside her, Julian cocked his head. “Problem?”

  “Somethin’ like that.” Deane pulled on his TailGator shirt, and Verity tried not to notice his muscles flex and move as he did. He looked at them both and said, “I have to go take care of a… situation.”

  Verity blocked him from the open door. “That is, if we let you go.”

  Deane looked her up and down. A faint grin played at his lips. “Trust me, ye want to let me go. It’ll make far less trouble for all of us if ye let me leave. I know ye want to avoid conflict like I do. I can see it in yer eyes, despite the fact ye always seem ready to get into a good row.” He strode up to her, his brown eyes fixed on her. “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I’ve dealt with my emergency. The three of us can hash everythin’ out. I get the feeling we can come to an understanding without violence or prejudice.”