Wait. That meant…
Son of a…
Derrick looked from Corbin to Scott. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Sorry.” Corbin shrugged.
Scott glanced nervously at Megan.
Logan reached for her.
“Logan, back off,” she commanded, her voice calm and strong. “Scott, Corbin, and Julian, step away from Derrick slowly, making no sudden movements.”
Everyone did as she commanded, looking at one another with worry in their eyes.
“Everyone out back. Now!”
Every guy in the room scrambled for the door, tripping over one another as they all tried to squeeze out the small opening at once.
Megan slowly followed them outside, not bothering to shut the door behind her. Julian, Scott, Corbin, and Logan shared a knowing look as they all moved to the opposite end of the yard from Derrick.
“What’s, um, going on guys?” he asked hesitantly. He really didn’t like that look in her eyes.
A bright white orb appeared in her hand.
What the holy…
Oh, shit!
Derrick ducked as the energy ball sailed over his head. When nothing exploded, he glanced over his shoulder to see that Scott had caught the glowing orb and snuffed it out. “Jesus Christ, Megan! What the hell was that?”
“You lied to me,” she said simply.
Derrick winced as she called up another white ball of destructive, angry energy.
He stood his ground, though. He pointed at her. “Pot.” He pointed to himself. “Kettle.”
Her eyes narrowed and she released the ball. It was quickly followed in succession by two more.
Son of a bitch.
He then did the only thing left to do.
He defended himself.
Derrick held his hand up, flinching as the burning, rarely used energy stretched its legs and began coursing red hot through his veins.
The heat coursing through his veins could only be properly compared to lava traveling through volcanic tubes hot.
He released the energy.
The first fiery ball shot out of his hand at record speed, slamming into her energy ball, effectively neutralizing it. The next red ball he released took out her other two balls of pure matter on its own. The third and final ball of fire shot out of his palm, making a beeline directly for her head.
Yes, that’s right folks. Derrick was what folklore called a Firestarter. He didn’t need an open flame to control fire. His body was the physical flame needed.
Megan’s eyes widened. To her credit, though, she stood her ground. She didn’t move a single muscle.
The fireball hit an invisible wall about an inch from her face. The invisible wall shimmered in the afternoon sun, but it held steady. His flaming ball of fire dropped to the ground, extinguished before it hit the dirt.
Well played, Megs. Well played.
There was silence in the yard as his steely gray eyes met her hard emerald green ones.
“Turning the ball to ice was cheating, Logan.” Her eyes didn’t leave Derrick’s.
“Well, Megan, I wasn’t about to take any chances with our resident pyro here igniting a forest fire,” Logan responded calmly. “And, for the record, I turned it to ice after it bounced off your energy shield.”
“Since when does Lavi have abilities?” Julian demanded.
“Jealous you weren’t the first to know?” Corbin returned.
“My life would be a little bit easier if he was human,” Scott muttered.
A loud whistle cut through the air.
They all turned towards the offensive sound. A man dressed similar to Logan was standing just outside of the barn.
Actually, he looked a lot like Logan.”
“Now that show and tell is over,” the man called, his tone and look condescending, “maybe we can move on to more important adult like matters children.”
Megan looked heavenward. “Really? One break. Seriously. That’s all I’m asking for here.”
“Who are you?” Derrick demanded, the annoyance in his voice crystal clear.
Since no one had bothered to introduce him to Logan, and he knew the same thing was about to happen here, he took matters into his own hands.
He was done being left in the dark.
“His name is Charles David Yves. He’s General Yves first born,” Megan replied.
Now she felt like putting full disclosure into effect. That figured.
“Which, unfortunately, makes him my brother,” Logan admitted grudgedly. “Hard to believe we’re twins, isn’t it? My real name is Darren Logan Yves, by the way. Like Scott I adapted my alias.”
“Don’t look so happy to see me, Darren. I’m sorry, Logan. Didn’t you miss me?”
“Like the clap,” Logan mumbled.
“And how about you, sis? Did you miss me?” Charlie turned to look a Megan.
“I shot you the last time I saw you. I think that speaks for itself Charlie.”
Derrick stared at Megan, his mouth hanging open.
And the hits just kept on coming.
“Hold on a minute, here,” he said, slowly. “General Yves is your father?”
Megan backed up a few steps, looking away from his incredulously angry stare. She suddenly became very interested in the dirt at her feet.
She nodded.
Derrick glared at Scott and Corbin. “I thought you said she was friends with Annelise Yves,” he accused.
“That you all attended school together. You never said she was her sister!”
“Now, Rick, she did attend Roosevelt Academy with us,” Scott placated. “That much is true.”
Corbin hesitantly raised his hand. “I may have exaggerated the whole them being friends thing a bit,” he admitted. “They aren’t exactly sisters either, though.”
Derrick stared at them both, utterly confused once again. “And how exactly does that work?”
Scott and Corbin looked at one another, at a complete loss for words.
Charlie rolled his eyes. He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. “Seriously? Does this really need to be explained to you?” He looked at Derrick, his eyes going wide. “Wow. Okay, then. Apparently it does. Derrick, the Megan Nox you know is Annelise Megan Yves. Megan Nox is an alias. You know, as in not real. Kind of like Reece Whitfield here going by Scott Raleigh.”
CHAPTER 34
November 2000
Shanna couldn’t believe it. After everything that had happened over the last ten months, she and D were still together. Everything was going well.
There had been no more late night run-ins with her sneaking back into the house, no more mentioning the phantom male friend, and she was slowly getting over everything that had happened back in April.
The nightmares—yes paranormal beings had nightmares—the cold sweats, and the disgusted feeling when members of the opposite sex came around her with intentions other than friendly comfort were starting to fade.
At the moment, she was curled up on the beat up couch in the downstairs common room with D watching some action movie on TV. They were the only ones home. So it was quiet and they didn’t have to worry about any interruptions. Not that there was really anything to interrupt, but if it went beyond the current PG rating, they still wouldn’t be interrupted.
D was still walking on egg shells around her. The blue elephant in the room never really fading. This particular colored two ton beast was the fact that the people who had attacked her had yet to be caught and she wasn’t talking about them.
All of the secrets and lies, on top of normal hormonal teenage emotions and drama, coupled with her magical side’s more primal instincts, was really starting to take a mental toll on her. She was strong and it took a lot to break her, but even she had a breaking point.
And she was rapidly reaching it.
Therapy was helping—Sandi had her seeing a therapist that also happened to be a reptilian like demon—but not as well as it could. She was st
ill only allowed to talk about certain things with the supernatural therapist. So not even her therapist had the full story.
She felt guilty for all the half-truths being tossed around, but she hadn’t survived as long as she had without doing what needed to be done, no matter how hard it was. It really sucked that the victim had to protect her attacker because it was a matter of life and death—literally.
Her life and someone else’s death.
Pushing those thoughts out of her head, she snuggled up to D. His arms tightened around her stomach as he kissed the top of her head.
“Getting tired?”
Shanna shook her head. “No. It just feels good to be back in your arms without any dark clouds hanging over my head.”
He smiled. “Does that mean I get a kiss?”
She touched her lips to his. To her surprise, she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, allowing it to explore freely. She pushed down the memory of Lucian’s mouth on hers, his tongue invading her mouth, diving so deep she felt like she was choking on it.
She ignored the warning elevation in her heart rate as she felt Kai’s hands bruising her wrists as he held them above her head. She tried to ignore the phantom bite of his knife. She blocked out the echo of Kai’s maniacal laughter and the sound of Lucien and one of his dogs were making as she attempted to lose herself in the present kiss with D.
This was the first time, since she had told him about that night that she had kissed him. He had been so understanding and patient. He deserved to enjoy this and to have some fun.
Hell, she deserved it.
She was not going to let memories of that night ruin this moment for her.
Unfortunately, her body had other ideas. Her mind betrayed her. Her heart started beating rapidly against her ribcage like a drum as D’s hands slid up and down her back.
They were safely over her shirt, but her pulse still sped up, threatening to beat its way out of her throat.
She flashed back to Kai holding her wrists and the shady shifter, Rocky, holding her ankles so that she was spread eagle on the grass.
Lucian was kissing her like a dead fish, pawing at her tank top like an overeager puppy. He eventually managed to get it over her head and off with Kai’s help. He grunted at the fact that she was wearing a white sports bra and, before she knew it, it was on the grass beside her shirt.
His hands started roaming roughly, bruising her skin. She closed her eyes, silently screaming as she tried to fight back. It was no use. Rocky and Kai had her in death grips. His hands were now at the waist band of her jogging shorts…
Shanna pushed back from D, tears sliding down her face. She fought to catch her breath, closing her eyes when she felt them change color. She felt like a ten ton brick was sitting on her chest and fire was coursing through her veins.
She jumped off the couch, running into her room, slamming the door behind her as she dove for the bathroom. She made it to the toilet in time to get violently ill.
Once her stomach was empty of its contents, she slowly dragged herself up off the cool floor. A cold sweat broke out all over her body as she stumbled to her bedroom door and locked it. Her stomach lurched again as she leaned back against the cool door.
She shifted into the beast she fought day and night to keep chained up in a cage, somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of her being.
As the memories assailed her, her beast broke free and took over, its way of protecting her. She paced the length of the room on all fours, her glowing yellow eyes finding the mirror on the back of the closet door.
As she looked at her reflection, the long spikes along the course fur running the length of her massive spine shot up, her beast’s version of a cat’s hackles being raised.
She was a massive, now spiked, black dog from the bowels of hell.
Hyde had nothing on her.
Resigning herself to the fact that the Hellhound portion of her DNA had officially taken over her witchy humanoid side, she let the memories come freely.
Her shorts were suddenly off, along with her white cotton underwear. She was officially naked as the day she was born, all those centuries ago, splayed out in front of her brother and his friends like a hybrid sacrifice.
Lucian’s hands were once again all over her…
Shanna managed to shift back into human form, running into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, quickly shucking her clothes. She climbed underneath the steaming hot spray, her eyes still glowing yellow as she fought to stay in human form.
She grabbed the white bar of soap and began scrubbing herself raw, attempting to clean the residue of the memory off. Under the shower spray, while she still fought for control against the anxious beast, the nightmare didn’t follow her.
Tired of fighting with her inner demon, she reached for the pink plastic razor sitting in the soap dish. Studying her left forearm, she tried to find a way to achieve her goal without damaging the magical tattoo. If she damaged it, the cloaking spell wouldn’t work and any damage would have to heal naturally, the tattoo present for all to see.
This was the way she had been keeping the demon inside her at bay. It’s what made this whole sick and twisted situation tolerable. When she cut herself, though the cuts weren’t all that deep, just enough to bleed and quell the beasts bloodlust, she could cancel out the emotional and mental pain while controlling the demon within her. The physical pain replaced the pain no one else could see and allowed her to forget for a while.
Not long, but it helped save her human side from being completely overrun by her animalistic side.
Not finding a spot that she liked, Shanna turned down the cold water, making the shower even hotter. She then switched the razor to her left hand, studying her right forearm. She chose the area just below her elbow, well clear of the infinity tattoo on her inner wrist.
Taking a deep breath, she slid the blade over her flesh, making a small lateral incision that wasn’t that deep. She bit the inside of her cheek at the slight pinching sensation, enjoying the slight pain it brought as a small line of blood slid out.
The beast demanded more blood.
She lost count of how many incisions she made on that forearm. All she knew was that she had to switch to her left arm before the beast would agree to go back in its cage.
She turned off the shower, stepping out onto the shower mat in front of the tub. She dried off, careful not to get blood on the white cotton towel. Wrapping the towel around her body, she walked over to the medicine cabinet.
She pulled out some Band-Aids and placed them over the cuts. She winced as she lifted her arm to replace the box. It would sting for a few days—the beast inside wouldn’t allow her to instantly heal as part of the deal to keep it caged—but it was worth it to keep the psychotic killer demon inside her a bay.
Stepping into her room, she quickly donned a gray long sleeved Lee’s Academy shirt, a pair of plain gray sweat pants and slid her bare feet into her orange fluffy Garfield slippers.
Yes, the gigantic mutant, mostly homicidal, demonic dog—the part of her that made her the perfect hunter of the supernatural—owned fluffy slippers of a cartoon cat that happened to also be a comic in the newspaper.
She’d witnessed stranger things.
Blowing out a breath, she braced herself to go out into the common room to face D.
D pushed his hair off his forehead, burying his face in his hands. Even though she was that one that claimed she was ready and had initiated the kiss, he still felt unbelievably guilty.
He felt like he had forced her into it. Like he had pushed her before she was truly ready. Even though it had been completely her choice, he still felt like an ass.
Shit!
Things shouldn’t be this way. She shouldn’t be forced to relive a horrific ordeal just to have some quality time with him.
He honestly didn’t care if he kissed her, held her, or had sex with her again.
He just wanted to be there for her. He wanted to support her and spend time wi
th her. Even if that meant he had to sit on the other side of the room just to talk to her.
He just wanted her to get better.
You need to clamp down on this anger before it gets you into trouble.
D was pissed off, but not at her. He really wanted to murder Lucian. In that one act, Lucian and his buddies had taken any and all self-respect that Shanna had. He wanted Lucian to die a slow, painful death by his hands.
He was mad at himself for making her think, even if it was unconsciously, that she needed to be close to him in that way before she was completely ready.
He was upset with her for thinking she needed to test herself by kissing him and causing herself to relapse, no matter how small of one it was.
I love her. That has to be enough.
He knew he could love her until the day he died. That wouldn’t help her one iota if she wasn’t willing to help herself. If she wasn’t healed, love didn’t mean a thing. As long as she blamed herself, it was an endless cycle of self-loathing.
She didn’t cause this and it sure as hell wasn’t her fault.
Until she could convince herself of these things, there was nothing he could do for her.
He slowly pushed himself up off the couch, taking a long look at the bedroom door as he sighed.
With his heart bleeding and broken in two, D headed up the stairs.
“OOMPH!”
Shanna grunted as she was tossed to the mat, the wind knocked out of her. She flipped to her feet, ducking just in time to dodge a foot to the jaw.
Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed the foot in midair, twisting it.
Patrick let out an “oomph!” of his own as she successfully flipped him and he landed hard on his back.
She straddled his chest and unceremoniously plopped down on his chest.
“While I’d normally be all over this position, you’re not exactly light.”
Shanna pulled off her blindfold, scooting higher on his chest. She dug her knees into his ribs, squeezing hard.
He wheezed out a few breaths, managing a shaky laugh. “Point taken! Uncle! I take it back. Please don’t kill me!”
Shanna scooted back, relieving some of the pressure as she relaxed her knees. “I wish I could kill you.”
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