by Leeah Taylor
“Damien, you’re in the middle of the street.”
“Why do you have to make everything a thing? Like last night when all I wanted was for you to stay at the house. Safe. That’s all. I just asked how you were feeling, and you’re making that into a thing.”
Oh my god, no!
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Yeah? Well, too bad because we’re doing it.”
Crossing her arms and refusing to look at him, Juliette fell back into the seat. Cars started to back up behind them, horns blaring and screaming obscenities. She rolled her eyes.
“Move your truck.”
“No.”
Stubborn, impossible son of a bitch. “Just move the truck!”
He switched on the hazard lights and cut the engine. “They can go around. We will sit here all night. Not like you’re going anywhere.”
She turned to meet his steely glare. “So first it’s get out of my city and don’t come back—”
He motioned toward her. “Yet here you are.”
“Fuck you.”
He growled towards the sky. “Somebody just tried killing you, Jules.”
“And? You tried to kill me too,” she spat out.
He jerked back. “But I didn’t.”
She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and shook her head. “No, but you might as well have.”
It would have made life so much easier.
A darkness flickered in his eyes. “Jules—”
“Can we please just go to the house? I want to get Riley and go back to the loft and get a shower.”
“You’re not leaving that house. Not after this.”
Juliette glared at him. “I will not stay in that house with you, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. Now either start the truck, or I’ll get out and walk.”
His eyes wanted to say more. She didn’t have it in her to see the fight through or to walk the few blocks to the house. Her body and head hurt with a two-ton weight on her chest. She just wanted to go back to the loft, fall into the bed he’d made for her, and sleep the rest of the day.
After a shower.
After a minute of silently pleading with him to just drive, Damien started the truck and drove in silence the rest of the way to the house. He parked at the curb, and she bolted out of the truck to get away from him. Her feet hit the ground, and the world spun, forcing her to hold to the side of the truck to stay upright.
Damien came around the front of the truck and offered his arm to her. “If you fed properly, it wouldn’t be this bad.”
She shoved his arm away. “Screw off.”
“Jules, come on, just stop, okay? Sort this bullshit out with Ramsey and everything, and then we can go back to hating each other.”
“I don’t hate you.” She stumbled past him, holding her head. “And I feed fine.”
“No,” he huffed, “you clearly fucking don’t.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I want Ann Marie’s book.”
Damien sighed. “Can’t you just take five minutes to breathe? Take a moment to let it sink in that someone tried to kill you. Maybe drink some blood. Hell, your room is upstairs, untouched. Get some sleep.”
Untouched? Another shrine?
She didn’t want to drink or sleep. Not in that house. And she sure as hell didn’t care that a Night had just tried to kill her. What’s new? She wanted the grimoire.
“No, Damien, I want it now. It’s in your room, right? Take me up there. I want it.” She went for the stairs, ready to take the first step, when Damien appeared in front of her. “I’m not playing games.”
“I give you that book, and you’re going to bolt.”
“Damn right I am. I’m not sticking around to let some maniac nut job try to off me again. I’ll run. I’m good at it.”
She glared up at him.
“You’re not leaving until we’ve—”
“Damien, give her the damn book. I told you we aren’t doing this,” Lucien demanded from the kitchen entrance. “It’s hers. Give it to her.”
He turned to his brother. “And if she leaves?”
Juliette locked onto Lucien.
He sighed. “Then she leaves. She is not our prisoner. She is not your prisoner. We’ve been over this. Give it to her.”
“Fine.” Damien scowled.
She followed him up the stairs, taking in the space that hadn’t changed in twenty years. The walls were still a dark mahogany. Hardwood floors creaked under her feet in all the places she remembered.
Damien pushed the door open, and she readied herself for the onslaught of emotions waiting for her inside. She stood outside the door, looking in. Nothing had changed. The bed on the other side of the room was unmade because Damien never saw the point.
The easel across the room was still next to the window. He used to sit in the window, waiting for her to wake up. Her on the balcony in her bedroom. Him lounging across the window seat. They’d talk until the smell of coffee filled the house.
She scanned the painting on the easel, half-finished, with splashes of blues and purples across the canvas. Knowing him, he’s painting a galaxy. My galaxy.
“You going to stand there all day, Luv?”
She shook the nostalgia and longing before walking in. “Stop calling me that.”
“Please,” Damien retorted, going over to the bookshelves, “you love it, and you know it.”
She did but wasn’t looking for a reminder. “My mother’s book.”
He paused and met her stare, heart pounding in her chest as his expression softened for her. No, we aren’t doing this. So many words hung thick in the air between them. Say it, Damien, and maybe we can finally try to make sense of us. He was never going to say it.
Damien took out a stack of books without a word and set them aside. “I wish you’d reconsider staying.” He punched in a code to the safe in the wall and stopped with his hand on the handle. “At least until we’ve taken care of this. No need for you to run. Leave after, fine, but wait until we’ve dealt with it.”
She shook her head, blinking away the burn in her eyes. “You mean until you’re the only threat left?”
“No, Jules,” he sighed. “That’s not what I mean, and I’m not a threat.”
“Yeah.” She crossed her arms. “Right up until you are. The book, Damien.”
Defeat crept up in his expression, and he opened the safe. He didn’t get to care anymore. He’d lost the right. A sick feeling began to pool in the pit of her stomach when Damien’s brow pulled together as he stared into the safe. He looked over at her, confusion clouding his eyes, and back into the safe.
“Oh my god,” he muttered. “Fuck…”
She stormed across the room and shoved him out of the way to look in the safe. It was empty. Fury boiled in her veins. Anger exploded in her chest.
“Where is it?”
“I—”
“You said it was here. It should have been safe in this house,” she glared up at him. “What was her name?”
“Luv—”
“No! Do not call me that. Which whore did you bring into this room?” She laughed. “I’ll make it easy. Which same whore did you screw up in Juleps’ office? Does that help?”
“Juliette, listen…We’ll get it back. I’ll get it back for you. I promise.”
“Who has Ann Marie’s book?” she yelled.
Footsteps shuffled up the stairs and stopped just behind her.
“Fuck, Luv, I’m sorry—”
She slapped him, a sharp sting spreading over her palm, with hot tears blurring into her vision. Hushed gasps came from the door behind her. Juliette staggered back when his dark eyes landed on her. Like a predator preparing to strike, he came at her as a blur whooshed past and Lucien stood in front of her, blocking Damien’s path.
“Move,” Damien growled.
“Not on your life.”
There was gentle tug on Juliette’s arm. “Come on, Doll, let me take you back to the loft.”
“You aren’t leaving this house,” Damien said.
Juliette lunged forward, pulling out of Ollie’s grasp. “And I told you that I will not stay here with you.” Lucien caught her just before she reached him. “I will not stay in this house where you paraded every whore you could find in my face.”
“Oliver!” Lucien pleaded.
“In the same house you fucked my brother, Juliette,” Damien roared.
“Damien, stop talking.” Ollie took her by the waist and pulled her back. “Jules, just let it go.”
“And whose fault was that?” she screamed, wiggling out of Ollie’s arms and back into Damien’s face. Jabbing her finger in his chest. “I wasted decades of my life loving you, for what? Not a damn thing. At least Lucien could love me the way you refused.”
The room went quiet. Damien stopped fighting, pushing off from Lucien and putting distance between them. Lucien looked back at Juliette, and she regretted it the moment it left her mouth. It was a cruel thing to say.
Juliette sighed, wrecked and defeated. The only thing that would come of this was more hurt and pain. Not just for her but every person in the room. She swallowed her pain, already falling apart on the inside.
“I won’t do this with you anymore, Damien. We’ve been doing this for a hundred and fifty years, and I’m tired. I’m done.”
I love you. I just wish you’d love me back. But it’s just not enough anymore.
“That so?” he asked.
A galaxy and storm collided, and it sent her heart into her throat.
“Yes.” Juliette stormed to the bedroom door and eyed Riley. “We’re leaving.” She stopped when she saw Chelsea at the top of the stairs with an unreadable expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes.” Chelsea nodded. “You did.”
Tears slipped out. “You’re right. I did, and I’m sorry for that.”
She’d said the words to hurt Damien, and by the look he gave her, she did.
“Come on, Riles.” Juliette past Chelsea to go down the stairs.
Damien had screwed up royally this time. Losing her grimoire was one thing, but her mother’s, with the spell in it that made Juliette into the hybrid mutt, was reckless and irresponsible.
“Jules, this isn’t the way,” Chelsea pleaded.
She stopped at the front door but didn’t turn around.
“It’s the only way I know anymore,” she muttered.
16
Damien
Lucien never took his stare from Damien’s. “Ollie, go with the girls and stay with them. If there are any issues, call me.”
Ollie disappeared, obeying their brother without question. Like a son would their father. Which, Damien supposed, Lucien had become.
“Lucien?” Chelsea murmured from the door.
He glanced back at her. “We’ll talk, Gorgeous. I promise.”
She eyed Damien, lips pulled down, and nodded before disappearing. Juliette had hit below the belt, and it’d stung more than just Damien.
“Start talking now,” Lucien demanded. “Who had access to this room other than you?”
The moment he opened the safe and found it empty everything flooded back to him. God, it wasn’t her. I fucked up so big. His stomach churned in disgust. He’d kissed her. She…he didn’t even want to remember what he’d let her do.
He was sure he imagined it.
“Damien! What aren’t you telling me?”
“I came home and finished that second bottle.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I really thought it was Juliette. I swear.”
“Who?”
“She said all the right things in all the right ways. There’s only one person I could have believed it was in my blackout.”
She didn’t smell like Jules, and I should have known better.
“Damien,” Lucien growled. “Who?”
Guilt threatened to consume him. Of all the people it could have been, why did it have to be her?
Damien swallowed. “Rebecca Law.”
Lucien went red in the face with his fists at his sides. Fury burning in his eyes. “Are you a fucking idiot?” He threw his arms up. “On what planet could you ever believe she was Juliette?”
“Geez, I don’t know, Lucien. Two bottles in, feeling pretty shitty, and damn it, I fucking missed her. Not so hard to believe that, in a dark house, all I saw was Juliette because that’s who I wanted it to be.”
Lucien glared at him. “And all you ever had to do was find her and tell her you were sorry. I love you. That was it. She would have come home. You have no one to blame but yourself. Nobody.”
Damien nodded. “I’ll get the book back.”
“Damn right, you will, and you will not breathe a word of this to her. And you will go to that loft and apologize to her. For what? I don’t know, pick something. Shouldn’t be hard. And then, if you have to grovel at her feet, you will convince her to come stay here until we know it’s safe for her. I don’t care if you have to leave the house.”
Every muscle tensed. “Where do you get off?”
“When you run around thinking with nothing but your dick and dragging the rest of this family down with it, that’s where I get off.”
Damien hit him, his fist connecting with his jaw before he even knew he wanted to.
“Your dick didn’t help matters either!” he roared, shaking out the pulsing pain in his fingers. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“That was twenty years ago,” Lucien yelled, wiping away the blood from his lip. “It happened, and I’m done apologizing for it.”
Lucien was right, about all of it, and Damien hated it. Hated that he could look over at his brother and know that he had forgiven him a long time ago. Yet every time he saw Juliette, he relived the moment for the first time.
“You have balls, Damien Frost,” Rebecca purred.
He scanned the bar, looking for the reason he even had Rebecca Law on his arm. He needed to restore a wedge. Juliette was too comfortable. When he’d woken up in the office on the couch with her snuggled into his chest that morning, he knew it was too close. Passing out together after a night of partying with his brothers. Too tired to stagger home in a drunken stupor. If anyone had found them. Seen her innocently wrapped in his arms. But it felt so right. She smelled so good. Which was why it was so wrong.
Damien couldn’t risk anyone witnessing the affection. She was a weakness that might be used against him, and he wasn’t about to let her be his Achilles heel. It was better if he kept her as far away as possible. Make sure she didn’t get too comfortable.
Love was an enemy
“So I’ve been told.” He stopped at the bar. “Oliver.”
Ollie turned with a scowl. “Seriously?”
“You have a problem?” Damien asked.
“Yeah, I fucking do have a problem. That bitch doesn’t belong here.” He pointed at Rebecca. “Get her out.”
Damien leaned forward. “Make me.”
Ollie was around the bar just as Lucien wedged between them.
“We are not doing this in the middle of a packed bar,” Lucien said. “Damien, take her and leave if you know what’s good for you.”
“What’s wrong? Afraid little miss priss, Chelsea Greaves, will have a problem—”
Lucien turned, raising a finger in his brother’s face. “You know damn well what the problem is. I won’t let you do this to her again.”
“Do what? I’m not doing anything.”
Lucien clenched his jaw. “Her love is wasted on you.”
“You want it so badly, go take it,” Damien said.
“I’ve tried, and for some ungodly reason she doesn’t want mine.”
Damien shrugged with a smug smirk. “Maybe try fucking her—”
A splitting pain erupted in his jaw as Lucien sucker punched him. “You’ll show some goddamn respect for her.”
The crowd around the bar went quiet with only whispers and murmurs. Damien rubbed at his jaw, guilt building in his ch
est. His own words cutting him deep.
“You take that conniving, backstabbing bitch and leave before I remove you myself,” Lucien demanded.
Damien had stopped listening. Too consumed by the brokenness of Juliette’s stare locking on to him and refusing to let him look away. He’d crossed the line this time. Pushed her too far. The gorgeous galaxy darkened with a silent rage.
She scowled at the woman hanging off his arm with all the hatred Rebecca had earned. He couldn’t breathe, heart slamming so hard he wondered if it might rip right out of his chest and end his misery for him. He’d lost her.
Why did it feel like the biggest mistake of his existence? Why did it feel like he was going to be sick?
Maybe the shock wore off or maybe she just found the will to move, but Juliette came at him. Storming across the bar, he half-expected her to rip his heart out for him. He would if the roles were reversed. If only she understood, he was trying to protect her. From him. From anyone that might hurt her to get to him.
If Juliette was ever taken from him. If her life was snuffed out. He’d have no reason to go on. She was the only good thing in his life which was why he could not let her see how much destroying her wrecked him. Hurting her. Breaking her. Juliette was the only thing that kept his world whole, and he’d just shattered it.
She barely stopped before rearing back and slapping him. Tears slipped down her cheeks, breaking him that much more. He deserved it. Every ounce of angry rage that blazed in those eyes.
“I hate you.”
It was only three words, but they hit with the pain of a wolf bite.
“Luv…”
Juliette slapped him again. Harder than the last with more resigned resolve. Her bottom lip quivered so much he was sure she’d break right in front of him.
“No!”
A hushed silence fell over the rest of the bar. Every witch, human, and vampire looked on with nosy curiosity. It was exactly what he wanted but not so much so that he lost her. Lucien reached for her, and Damien clenched his fists at his side to keep from taking her in his arms.
“Come on, Darling, I’ll take you home,” Lucien insisted.
She looked undecided, like she might slap him again, until defeat blew out the fire in her eyes, and she walked away from him. Taking his heart and soul with her.