He dragged his gaze from her fingers and looked at her. He never gave anyone answers to anything they asked him, unless it served his purposes, but for some reason, he wanted to tell her. Not a lot. Just a little. Just enough that she would know something about him other than the fact he killed. She was so embracing and emotional, he felt like an empty wasteland in comparison. Something inside him needed her to see he was more. “My mother and my sister were murdered because of my father’s work.” He shrugged, keeping his tone casual, even though the words he spoke literally defined his entire existence. “Their deaths taught me that when you care about someone, it makes that person a target.”
Her face softened. “I’m sorry you had to learn that lesson.”
“I’m not.” He flipped his hand over and took her hand in his. He began tracing circles over her palm. He was trying to distance himself from her emotionally, but it wasn’t working. He needed to touch her, to feel her, to hold her. Somehow, he needed to reassure himself that she was real, not a ghost or a shadow like he’d always been. “It’s a critical lesson to grasp. Only a selfish bastard would let anyone into his life.”
She cocked her head. “Or a man who understood that sometimes love is worth the risk.”
“Love?” His fingers tightened instinctively around hers. He hadn’t thought of the word love in a long time, not since the day he saw his father crumble in grief at the death of the woman he loved. “Love makes a man weak. It makes him vulnerable. It makes him do stupid shit.”
She raised her brows. “Like what?”
He flattened his palm against hers, measuring her fingers against his. So small, so dainty, so fragile. “Like going on a rampage to kill your wife’s murderers and getting yourself killed in the process, leaving behind a nine-year-old kid who knows about nothing except loss and revenge.” His stupid father. After a lifetime of honing his skills to perfection, he’d lost his shit and gotten himself killed just because the woman he loved had died. When the old man had been murdered, Slade had also committed himself to revenge, but he’d learned from his father’s mistakes, and he’d been strategic and smart. He’d wiped out the bastards, gotten rich as sin in the process, and had established a career that made sure no one ever messed with him again.
Anya tightened her fingers around his. “I’m so sorry, Slade,” she said softly.
He stiffened, realizing he’d said more than he intended, and realizing he wanted to say even more. He wanted to grab his beer, sit down next to her, and tell her every sordid detail of his life…which was stupid and weak. She was too damned tempting. “It’s fine,” he said coolly, releasing her hand. “It’s long over.” He turned away to grab some plates from the cabinet for them to use for dinner.
She watched him, her eyes seeing more than he wanted her to see. “So, by having me stay here, you’re making me a target?”
“Yeah.” That much he wanted her to know.
She raised her brows. “You do realize that I’m already a target, right? Three assassins were hired to kill me before you added to my burden with your treacherous, relentless enemies.”
He grinned, unable to hide his amusement at her word choice. “I know. That’s the only reason I brought you here. You attract the bad sort, and this is the only place I really trust.”
She snorted. “I attract ‘the bad sort?’ Back at ya, big guy, right?”
“Yes, true.” He set the plates on the counter, then braced his palms on the granite, studying her. “But even so, my life is different,” he said, unable to keep the urgency out of his voice. He had to make her understand. “You’re a target for something having to do with shifters. We don’t know what. But I have enemies in a thousand different places. People want to hurt me, and they want me to do things for them. Not a single one would hesitate to use you if they thought it would hurt me, or control me. There isn’t a chance in hell I ever would have brought you into my life or my house if I’d had a choice, both for your sake and mine. But you have to stay alive, and this is the only place I truly trust.” But even as he said it, cold seeped through his gut as the enormity of what he’d done settled on him, as he recalled the shock of finding his bloodied mother and sister. “I shouldn’t have done it,” he said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.” If she were killed by one of his enemies, he would have no one to blame but himself.
Swearing, he turned away, lacing his hands on his head. Why the hell had he made this choice? Why? She was screwing with his mind, his perfectly ordered world, and everything that had kept him alive and sane for so long. What the hell? He couldn’t—
Her hands slid over his shoulders, and he froze. “Don’t touch me.”
“Turn around.”
“Get away from me.”
“Slade. Turn around.”
Slowly, gritting his jaw, he obeyed her. She’d apparently crawled across the island, and she was now sitting on the granite, her feet dangling, her face at eye level with his. She set her hands on his shoulders, studying him intently. “Listen to me, Slade. My whole life has been spent in fear of being hunted down. We had no home, no money, and no security, but it was okay, because we had each other. We had complete trust in each other, and that made us stronger. We never would have survived that long if we hadn’t had such a tight bond.”
He could feel the warmth of her words, the love entwined around each word she spoke about her makeshift family. For a split second, envy rushed through him, the cold, lonely green of jealousy. He could barely remember his childhood before all hell had broken loose, but he had vague flashes of feeling safe and loved, especially by his mother. The way Anya spoke of her family made him want to see what he’d forgotten, to remember what he’d lost, to be able to hold it the way she did. “Tell me about your mom,” he said. “Tell me something.”
She smiled softly, her eyes distant as she revisited a place in the past. “When I turned sixteen, I really wanted a sweet sixteen party with tons of friends. I hated the fact that I had no one except the three of them. So, my mom spent three days cutting out massive pieces of cardboard and decorating them to look like the teen celebrities I idolized. Julia took me out shopping for dinner, while Marjorie and my mom decorated the cabin with more balloons, streamers, and candy than I’d ever seen in my life.” She smiled. “They had a disco ball, speakers blaring music, and every celebrity I’d ever idolized was there, in full-scale size, for my party. It was amazing. She had so little, and was able to create exactly the party I’d dreamed of.”
Slade grinned, watching her eyes sparkle as she told the story. He’d never cared about celebrities, unless he’d had to kill one, and he’d never bothered with friends, but at the same time, the warmth and love in her eyes as she told the story touched him. “I’ve never created anything good,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t know how to. Your mom sounds like she was an incredible woman.”
Anya grinned at him. “She was the best,” she agreed. “But that’s not the point.” She held out her hand to him. “The point is that we’ll be stronger if we connect with each other. It might make me vulnerable to your enemies, but if I don’t find Julia, I have nothing to live for anyway, so it doesn’t matter to me.” She smiled. “Besides, I think you need to matter, Slade. You need to realize that someone cares whether you get home at night.”
To his surprise, something tightened in his throat, and he turned away for a moment to regain his focus. When he turned back, Anya was still holding out her hand. “Don’t keep pushing me away, Slade. Let me in. I need this, and so do you.”
He stared at her hand for a long moment. A part of him desperately wanted to accept her offer, to believe that he would be stronger if he were teamed up with her. Maybe he would, but that wasn’t enough of a reason to endanger her. “I won’t risk you like that.”
She searched his face. “Don’t you understand that if we fail, then I die? What does it matter if your enemies target me, if I’m already dead? Or if I’m locked up in that cell so I can be sold to some bastar
d who wants to knock me up and give him a shifter baby?”
He went cold, absolutely ice cold, and grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth! I don’t want to end up like that just because you’re too afraid to let me in! Don’t you understand? We don’t even know who is pulling the strings, why we both got chosen for this plucked-from-death miracle, or what’s coming next! We have no one to trust except each other. You can’t do this one alone, Slade, so just stop it, focus, and let’s make this work!”
“Dammit, Anya! Why are you so ready to make yourself vulnerable? You should be scared of me, of my life, of these bastards, of it all, not sitting here telling me that I need to get cozy with you!”
“I am scared!” she shouted at him. “I’m terrified! I have only three people in my life that matter. Two of them are dead, and the third is being held by horrible monsters. I live in a constant state of panic that I’m not running away like I’m supposed to, and absolutely terrified that all my mother’s sacrifices to keep me safe are going to be for naught because I’m still going to end up in the hands of the bastards that nearly broke her the first time! So I could use a little support from you, instead of you pushing me away like that!”
He stared at her, shocked by her outburst. She seemed to have her shit together so completely all the time. He’d had no idea of the depth of her fear. She was trembling now, tears of fury glittering in her eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He didn’t know how to fix it, how to make it right.
She shook her head. “It’s fine, Slade. I just…” She looked at him. “I’m just stressed and tired. I know how dangerous everything is, but it doesn’t do any good to dwell on it. I’m not used to being on my own, and I need to be able to count on you. Please, be on my team. Don’t push me away.”
He ground his jaw. His instincts demanded he keep his distance from her, but she kept dragging him back in. He’d managed separate himself from his brother all these years, no matter how strong his urge to connect, but for some reason, Anya was different. Maybe it was because she was so relentless, pushing at him to let her in. Maybe it was because she’d lived in darkness her whole life. She was no stranger to death, to fear, to hardship, but somehow, she’d kept her heart alive, and she’d managed to retain a view of life that had long since left him. He wanted to be a part of her world. He wanted to see and live through her eyes…and he couldn’t afford that.
But at the same time, he couldn’t let her go.
He’d made a promise to keep her safe, and both their lives depended on it. Silently, he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her palm. He didn’t know what, exactly, he was promising her. He knew it wasn’t to bond over love and connection, but at the same time, he was offering her something more than what he understood, trying to cross that chasm into her world.
Her face softened and she smiled, a smile so tender that part of the gritty steel around his heart seemed to crack. “I accept,” she said. “Thank you.”
He nodded, relieved that she understood without forcing him to articulate that which he couldn’t explain. He leaned on the counter, his hands flanking her hips, somehow needing to be close to her, close enough to breathe her scent and absorb her energy, to reassure himself that he was right to trust her. He caught the same delicate scent as before…but this time, he noticed another scent underlying it. Something earthier. Something he recognized.
He met her gaze, not pulling back. “Tell me about the white leopards.”
She paled. “Slade—”
“I’m here, Anya. I’m sticking with you. I brought you into my place. My fate is entwined with yours. It’s time to let me in.”
She lifted her chin. “You said you never make a promise you can’t keep. You wouldn’t promise not to kill me before.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want me to promise?”
“That if I tell you the truth, that you will never repeat it to anyone, that you will never betray me, and that you will never let anyone read the knowledge in your mind. You will do whatever it takes to make sure no one ever knows what I tell you. Ever. No matter what the cost to you.”
Ever? No matter what the cost? “That’s a tremendous promise,” he said, after a moment. “I have no idea what the future will bring. I can’t trap myself.”
“I know.” She didn’t back down. “But I can’t accept less.”
He stepped back, grabbed his beer, and paced the kitchen. The only thing that kept him alive was the ability to do whatever it took to survive no matter what the moment brought him. He had no loyalty to anyone, except his brother, and that made him agile. If he carried her secret, protecting it would be a burden that he’d have to shoulder his entire life. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was promising, since he didn’t even know her secret.
He took a long drink of his beer, aware of her watching him, and waiting.
“Is it so bad to have something to live for besides killing people?” she asked softly. “You have enough money. Maybe it’s time to let something else matter.”
“I already have something that matters,” he snapped.
Her eyes widened, and he swore. He hadn’t meant to reveal that.
“What is it?” She leaned forward, her fingers wrapped around her glass. “Who matters to you, Slade? I know there’s someone.”
He turned toward her, frustration roaring through him. “What if I have to choose? What if I have to make a choice between him and your secret? What then?”
She stared at him, not even reacting to his veiled admission that there was someone else in his life. “You find a way to do both,” she said simply.
“What if there’s not? What then?”
“You find a way to protect both.” She leaned forward. “Don’t you understand, Slade? There’s always room for more goodness in your life. It just makes you stronger.”
“It makes you vulnerable,” he snapped.
She sighed. “You just don’t understand, do you?”
“I understand fine. I—”
“When I was born, my mother had tattoos put on the bottom of my feet. They’re an ancient rune designed to keep shifters from shifting,” she said. “I’ve had them my whole life. I’ve never shifted, but I don’t know if it’s because of the runes, or because I’m not a shifter.”
He swore, realizing she was telling him her secret. He wasn’t ready to commit to her yet. “Don’t tell me—”
She stood up. “My mother was a white leopard. So was Marjorie. So is Julia. Am I one? I don’t know for sure, but if I had to say, I think I am. I think that if I took the tattoos off my feet, I would shift.” She walked over to him. “I’m a white leopard, Slade. The most prized, most endangered, and most hunted shifter alive. That’s my secret. You might not have given me your promise with your words, but I know I have it. I trust you.”
Slade stared down into her vibrant blue eyes, fear tearing through him at the enormity of what she’d shared with him. Not just that her family were white leopards, but how to expose hers. Her secret would make her a target of all the worst scum he’d ever met, collectors who had the money, power, and ruthlessness to get whatever they wanted. “Why did you tell me?”
“Because you need to know, and because you need to realize that you can make that promise to protect me.” She met his gaze. “And because I trust you.”
Something shifted inside him, something warm and real, something he’d never felt before. His heart thudded, once, then twice, as if it were beating for the first time in years. How could she have offered him this? Her secret, her identity, her truth was all she had. Her mother had died because of it. And she’d given it to him?
“Was I wrong?” she asked. “To tell you?”
Yes. He wanted to roar his denial, to berate her for being so naïve, to tear the knowledge out of his brain. He wasn’t in the business of protecting secrets, of preserving confidences, of making choices to benefit someone else. He didn’t even know how to do that. “All I know
is how to live by myself,” he said. “I only know how to protect myself.”
“What about ‘him?’ The one you mentioned earlier. Don’t you protect him?”
“Yes, but—”
“Slade.” She clasped his hands, her fingers warm and delicate in his roughened ones. “You’re so much more than you realize. You never would have been chosen as my guardian if you weren’t worthy. Accept it. Accept what I gave you. Let it make you stronger.”
He gripped her fingers, something surging inside him, something desperate, something that wanted to step into the role he’d been given. What if he was more? What if he could do something greater than what he’d accepted as his life and his fate? What if he could do something as simple and tremendous as preserving the spirit of this incredible woman standing before him? He touched her hair, running his fingers along the tangled strands that fell across her shoulders. But how could he make a promise like that?
But even as he asked it, he knew it was too late. The moment she’d shared her truth with him, he’d accepted responsibility for protecting it. It didn’t matter whether he officially promised her or not. He’d made it the moment she’d told him the truth.
She smiled, triumph gleaming in her eyes. “You don’t need to say it. I can read it in your eyes.”
He glared at her, sliding his fingers to the nape of her neck. He was pissed, but at the same time, there was a part of him that was deeply relieved, even excited. He never would have made that promise, but now that it had become a part of him, it felt right. It felt good. It felt powerful. “You manipulated me,” he said, scowling at her.
She nodded, unrepentant. “It appears to be the best way to manage you.”
“I don’t like it.” His fingers tightened along the back of her neck.
“I know.”
“But I admire it.”
Her face softened, and he felt the tension ease from her body. He realized then that despite her bravado, she’d been worried. “Thank you.”
Leopard's Kiss (Shadow Guardians) (Shadows Guardians Book 1) Page 13