by CY Jones
Without thinking, I drop my bag on the runway and run straight for him, launching myself into his arms.
“Hello, beautiful. Did you miss me?” he grins, picking me up and twirling me around like we’re in some cheesy chick flick. I’m more than happy to see him. I missed him in the little time we were apart.
“Well don’t you two look cozy?” Hunter says from behind us in a dry voice.
Putting me down, Silas gazes over my head at Hunter and Cody, giving them both a once-over. A look of possessiveness crosses his face, but one of utter shock soon replaces it.
“That’s right, asshole, she belongs to us too,” Hunter growls, shocking the hell out of me. Since when was Hunter all team Remy? I narrow my eyes at Hunter and promptly tell Silas to “ignore him,” which he does when he kisses me soundly on the lips.
Pulling back, I see lust reflected back at me in Silas’s eyes. The other night was no fluke. He’s real, and he wants me as much as I want him.
Clearing his throat, he says, “I missed you, little wolf.”
“We haven’t been apart that long,” I tell him punching his shoulder while inside I’m swooning.
“A second without you with me is too long,” Silas coos, making Hunter snort.
Cody just looks on, appearing amused by the scene in front of him, and his dimple comes out to play as he smiles widely at us. I’m glad to know he’s accepting Silas and isn’t the jealous type. I already know with all my heart that I could never choose between them, even the arsehole wolf.
“Come on, we need to get out of the open,” Silas says, grabbing my hand and leading us towards the parking lot. “You never know who’s watching.”
A serious look crosses his face, and reality quickly sets back in, dampening my mood. I’m such an idiot. I just ran out here with no care in the world, forgetting about the many dangers lurking in the shadows. This bond is truly making me stupid. As if reading my thoughts, Cody squeezes my other hand and gives me a sympathetic look. Hunter just scowls while walking a few steps behind us as he takes in our surroundings.
Everyone stays silent until we're inside Silas’s car and pulling away from the airport. Once we’re on our way, Hunter speaks.
“Silas. I know that name. Give me one good reason why we should trust O'Donnell's magical lojack?”
“Apparently you must have, mate, seeing as you’re currently sitting in my car,” Silas retorts, glancing back at Hunter from the rearview mirror.
“What’s he talking about?” I question, confused.
“What’s that, princess? He didn’t tell you?” Hunter mocks.
“Tell me what?” I ask, trying my best to keep from turning around in my seat and ringing Hunter’s neck.
“Your new boy toy works for O’Donnell,” Hunter answers smugly.
“What?” I shriek, shocked by the news.
“He’s the one O’Donnell sends out when he needs someone found quickly.” Hunter continues. “Silas is a powerful mage that can weave equally powerful spells and has the ability to find anyone anywhere.”
“Magical lojack,” I mumble to myself.
I look over Silas with a calculating assessment and immediately realise Hunter is telling the truth. His magic was the reason I didn’t want to get into the car back at the club, and why I ran away from Hunter. When we first met, I had no clue where that sense of urgency came from that drove me to that rooftop. Now I knew.
“You cast a spell on me, didn’t you?” I accuse.
“Yes,” Silas answers.
He doesn’t deny it or make excuses. A quality I might admire if I weren’t pissed at him for deceiving me. The car goes quiet. No one speaks. Not even the arsehole wolf sitting smugly in the back. Finally, after what seems like ages, Silas speaks.
“O’Donnell hired me to find you and your brother. He gave me a vial of both you and your brother’s blood that I used to do a tracking spell. Usually I just perform spells designed to lead me to my target, but with your blood I was able to do a stronger spell, which made you come to me. I did not know you were my mate until I literally had you in my arms. It's like a band snapped into place, and all I saw was you. I couldn’t kill you, even if I wanted to.”
“So what now?” I snap. “Are you taking us to O’Donnell for him finish the job?”
He could have told me he was working for O’Donnell on the rooftop. I’m super annoyed with all this supernatural crap. There's so much that I don’t know. I’m the type of girl that weighs my decisions by the variables in each situation and then choose the course with the highest survival rate. With supernaturals and all the impossible shite they can do makes that near impossible.
“No, love,” Silas answers.“You’re mine. I will never give you over to him.” I let out a relieved breath.
“Wait. You said you thought my brother was on the coast, but you didn’t know where. Why didn’t your spell lead you right to him, or him to you?” I ask.
“I lost track of your brother days ago. He must be working with someone stronger than me to be able to thwart a blood spell,” Silas explains as he turns down another street.
“Do you know who, mate?” Cody asks from the back.
“I have a hunch,” Silas replies.
“Would you have handed over my brother? If you were able to find him?” I ask softly as I try to take everything in. A part of me doesn’t want the answer, but another part, the assassin in me needs to know.
“No, love. I would never do anything to hurt you. Now that I found you, I’m yours.”
I feel the passion behind each of his words, and I believe him.
“Great, now we have two pussies to add to your little harem,” Hunter grumbles in the back.
“What’s your problem, wolf?” Silas snaps.
“Don’t pay him any attention,” I say to Silas, enfolding my hand in his. “He’s just pissy that he didn’t get a chance to blow any little piggies houses down today.”
“You do know you’re a wolf too, right?” Hunter huffs.
Ignoring Hunter, I ask Silas “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to the person I think is hiding your brother,” Silas tells me, making another turn into a parking garage. We get out the car and walk to the elevators. When I read the gold name plate on the wall, I turn to stare wide eyed at Silas.
“DelaCorte Industries. Please tell me we’re looking for someone who works for DelaCorte and not the man himself?” I ask.
“Can’t do that, love,” Silas answers as he presses the button to the 23rd floor.
“Lucas DelaCorte, the billionaire, is a supernatural,” I mumble, my shock evident in my tone.
“Yes. He’s a higher vamp,” Silas confirms, not at all bothered by my naiveté. Although he does give me a odd look. One that said I should already know this. Didn’t O’Donnell tell him I knew diddly squat about the supernatural world?
“What’s a higher vamp?” I ask.
“It means he’s a born vampire and not made,” Hunter explains in a bored tone. “A descendant from the old Gods. I believe DelaCorte is a descendent of Zeus.”
“What the fuck? How do you even know that?”
Rolling his eyes, he just shrugs and says, “Cody knows more than me. They have history.”
I look over at Cody and notice for the first time that he’s not his usual jolly self. In fact he looks a little hostile and more than a little uncomfortable. As if sensing my stare Cody looks towards me and says, “Don’t ask, sugar plum.”
I know that when he’s ready, he will tell me, so I don’t push him and just let it go for now. The elevator dings, and we step off into a posh waiting area. A older lady with slightly graying dark hair smiles at us from behind her desk in the receptionist area.
“May I help you?” she asks cheerfully.
“Yes, we're here to see Lucas DelaCorte,” I respond in a clear voice.
It seems the guys intend to make me the spokesperson of our merry little band of misfits, since no one
else cares to speak up.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, typing into her computer.
“No, but it’s very important that we see him,” I tell her, trying to convey my pleading with my eyes.
I don’t know what our next move will be if she sends us away. I suppose we could wait in the parking garage like a couple of stalkers until he leaves his office for the day and follow him home.
“What’s your name, dear? I’ll see if he’ll squeeze you in,” his secretary says, sounding more like someone's grandmother rather than the secretary to one of the most powerful men in the world.
I pause for just a second. It feels weird admitting my true name in public after remaining hidden in the shadows for so long.
“Remy. My name is Remy O-,” I’m about to say O’Donnell when I stop myself. I’m not an O’Donnell. That monster is not my father. “Daniels. Remy Daniels.”
“OK, dear. Have a seat, and I’ll see what I can do,” she says with a wink.
Giving her a small smile I take a seat in one of the expensive looking leather chairs closest to the window.
We sit there for about an hour before the receptionist walks over to us.“He’ll see you now.”
Standing up, I look towards the guys when Cody says, “I think it’ll be best if I wait out here.”
I’m about to ask why when Silas speaks up, “Me too. Lucas may not give you answers with me around,” he quickly explains.
That could be true, considering that Silas currently works for O’Donnell. Hell, he probably wouldn’t want to see me either if he knew who I really was.
“Well, I guess that just leaves me,” Hunter says, jumping up and taking my hand.
I don’t argue with him, but I do narrow my eyes at him and snatch my hand back. He seems awfully chipper to bear witness to this meeting. Does he know something I don’t?
We both follow the receptionist down the hall to an office located all the way in the back. Pulling open a rather large mahogany door, the receptionist leaves us once we step into DelaCorte’s office. If I thought the waiting area was posh, it had nothing on his actual office space. Beautiful, large floor to ceiling windows show off a beautiful Californian view, a bookcase full of expensive looking leather bound books line one wall, the carpet is plush and thick, and all the furniture smelled of expensive leather. By far the most impressive thing in DelaCorte’s office is the huge mahogany desk polished to perfection and the equally impressive man sitting behind it.
When he stands Lucas DelaCorte makes an imposing figure. Well over 6 feet tall, his dark hair is short, and he has piercing bright blue eyes that seem to cut right through you. He looks like a model with high cheekbones, a strong nose, and chiseled jaw. He has a lean swimmer’s build and looks like he’s packing some serious muscle under his expensive Armani suit. I should have guessed he was supernatural, because just like the others, he’s too beautiful to be human.
“Ms. Daniels. I wondered if you were ever going to show?” DelaCorte says by way of greeting, extending his hand to me.
His words confuse me, but I still take his hand and give it a firm shake. Letting go, he waves us over to the wingback chairs in front of his desk, and Hunter and I take a seat.
“I’m not going to lie. I don’t know what’s going on right now,” I admit.
“We might as well get everything out in the open. It’s never good to start a business relationship with lies.” What the hell is he talking about? What business relationship? He’s confusing the shite out of me, and I’m starting to wonder about the state of his sanity.
Taking in my bewildered expression, he says, “I know why you’re here, Ms. Daniels. I can give you what you want, but it won’t be for free.”
It appears DelaCorte isn’t one to pussyfoot around. A quality I could admire, but right now I’m more worried about what a man like him could possibly want from me?
“So you do know my brother’s location?” I ask him, as frank as he was to me.
“Yes,” he answers. “He’s hiding out in one of my homes. He came to me for shelter, and I gave it to him.”
“So what do you want from me? Why hide my brother at all if you wanted to deal with me?”
“I assume by now you know what I am, what you are?”
“Yes, I know we’re all supernaturals,” I say dryly.
“When your brother came to me, he told me your story. I personally would never get involved with a man like Patrick O'Donnell, so I found myself loathe to get in the middle of this. Hiding your brother not only puts me on O’Donnell’s radar, but it also puts my own family at risk,” he says, nodding his head toward a picture in an expensive gold frame sitting on his desk.
A beautiful girl with long, white-blonde hair and violet blue eyes smiles out at me from the picture. I’m guessing she’s his daughter.
“I know who you are, Shadow. I know what you’ve done for O’Donnell. Lucky for you, I also know that you are just as much of a victim as those you’ve hunted down. So yes, I will help you, just like I helped your brother, and your fathers before that, but only if you make a blood promise with me.”
“What’s that?” I ask at the same time as Hunter yells, “Hell no.”
He remained quiet this entire time, content to just listen, but the vehemence in his voice and the look of fury that crosses his face is enough to cause even my heart to skip a beat.
“Without the promise we have no deal, I’m afraid,” DelaCorte says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
“What the fuck is it?” I ask again, done with being polite.
“A blood promise pretty much binds you to owe a favor to the other person,” Hunter explains. “Any favor the person asks of you, you have to do it. You pretty much have no choice in the matter, and the bond will not let you deny the requester.”
“So whatever he asks me to do, I’ll have no choice but to comply,” I repeat just to clarify.
“Yes,” Hunter nods.
Well, hell. That’s no different than my life under O’Donnell’s thumb. Except he requested unlimited favors. I said I wanted to atone for my bad deeds, but do I really want to gain another master?
“Will it make you feel better if I tell you what I want from you before you make the pact?” DelaCorte asks as he stares at me shrewdly.
“Yes, that would be quite helpful,” I quip.
I cannot forget that DelaCorte is a businessman and has much more experience than me in the supernatural world.
Sighing, he says, “A war is coming. Far different from the one with your dads and O’Donnell. A war that involves our own kind. The veil is weakening, and soon it’ll disappear all together.”
“That’s a myth,” Hunter growls.
“I assure you, wolf, it is not,” DelaCorte retorts, still looking me directly in the eyes. “A powerful seer already told me this will happen, and my daughter will find herself in the middle of it. I will tell you where your brother is if you make the pact, and when the time comes you will do everything in your power to help my daughter. She will not win this war alone; fate has decided that she cannot do it without your help. Like it or not, you are involved in an ancient prophecy that’s been generations in the making. You were always meant to be part of this world.”
Well, hell. So much for finding my brother and hightailing it the fuck out of here. Now some higher power wants something from me, when all I want is my brother safe and sound.
“And a seer told you this?” I ask softly, fiddling with my fingers.
It feels weird to hear that I’m destined to do something good with my life instead of just the path of death and destruction I was groomed for.
“Yes,” he says solemnly. “She said your brother would come to me, and that it was in my best interest to help him, because I needed you. One of her visions places you and your mates by my daughter’s side. Without you we will all die.”
Fuck. What can a girl say to that, excep----? “Are you sure it’s me she saw? All I’m g
ood at is tearing things apart, not fixing them.”
“Maybe it’s your special brand of tearing apart that we need,” DelaCorte answers simply, breaking through my self doubt.
“What exactly is the veil?” I question, needing more details before I agree to anything.
“The veil is what separates humans from the supernatural world. Even though some supernaturals live here, there’s another world separating them from us. A world that's too violent to ever mix with the mortals here. The veil is the only thing that keeps them from destroying us.”
“I guess supernaturals had to come from somewhere,” I mutter.
While I ponder my decision, I can’t help glancing over at Hunter. I know he hates me, and possibly doesn’t believe anything DelaCorte is saying right now, but I want to prove to the cranky bastard that I am more than what he believes me out to be.
So, with that in mind, I seal my fate and say, “You’ve got a deal.”
Hunter’s head snaps in my direction, but before he can open his big mouth, I ask DelaCorte, “What do I need to do?”
“I’ll cut my palm and then yours, then we will join our hands together, and you’ll repeat after me.”
That sounds simple enough. At least we don’t have to do some crazy ritual, like dancing naked under the moonlight.
Face somber and tone serious, DelaCorte asks, “Are you sure this is what you want? Once done, there's no going back.”
I know this is a serious decision. But I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to be a better person, and now here’s my opportunity to do just that. Go big or go home. Isn’t that the American saying?
Looking Hunter straight in the eyes, I answer, “Yes,” without a single doubt.
Pulling out my dagger, I slice my palm and hand it over to DelaCorte who does the same. When we press our palms together, I feel the magic tingle throughout my hand as our blood mixes. It’s the first time I’ve felt anything in my hand in years.
“I, Lucas DelaCorte of House Storm, bind you, Remy Daniels, to a favor of my choosing when the time comes. You will come willingly with haste, and you will stay until the bargain is complete or until death releases you. Do you accept?” he declares in a clear voice, maintaining eye contact with me, and I take this as my cue.