Death’s Sweet Embrace

by Tracey O’Hara

  Holy shit. Of course her father wouldn’t be so cruel—at least not to her mother. “I’m sorry.”

  “And do you have any idea how hard it’s been on me? Losing Dylan . . .” His voice cracked and he looked away.

  Maybe his refusal to talk about it with Serena was more because he couldn’t, rather than wouldn’t. For the first time in her life her father seemed smaller, more ordinary, more touchable, not just the aloof Pride Alpha above reproach. He grieved just like any father who’d lost a child.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered, sitting on the coffee table opposite him. “I didn’t know.”

  “And why would you?” He ran his hand across his face and glanced to the camera in the corner of the room, then turned slightly so he was facing away from it. “You think I don’t know what happened to you? What Leon did?”

  Kitt rocked back and sat straight up.

  The Alpha’s eyes softened. “Of course I did. That was why I had you exiled and why I sent Dylan with you. To keep you safe.”

  When Dylan had found her by the swimming hole, her skin bruised and clothes torn, he’d wanted to kill Leon himself, especially when the lion had the gall to petition the Council of Aeternus Elders for her hand.

  “I knew why you married Emmett, but it only worked for a short time. Leon was determined to have you—this was the only way I knew how to protect you.” Being the Alpha, Tyrone was bound by the laws of the Pride more than anyone else. He had to enforce them, not question them.

  A thought struck her. “Mother’s letters— It was you.”

  “Shhh!” He leaned forward, shaking his head.

  All these years Kitt had thought he hated her. Tears filled her eyes and she dropped her head.

  “Forgive what I’m about to say and do, but these walls have ears,” he whispered and grabbed her by the arms, bringing her to her feet. “You have no right to come here and demand anything from me.” His voice rose so anyone listening could hear. “I will look into this matter. If any Jordan Pride member has acted without permission, they will be severely dealt with.”

  He turned his back on her and walked to the mantel. She stood there, speechless, rubbing her arms. The closed doors burst open and Nathan stormed in with his bodyguard following close behind.

  “What’s she doing here?” he spat.

  “She has brought something to my attention,” Tyrone said, pointing to the print on the coffee table.

  Nathan’s eyes widened and he glanced at his bodyguard.

  Tyrone’s eyes dropped to the picture on the table and back up at her brother’s companion, his eyes narrowing.

  The male looked at Nathan with uncertainty.

  “Show me your wrist,” Tyrone demanded. “The one with that birthmark.”

  Her brother swallowed and straightened as his bodyguard held out his arm. The purple birthmark on the wrist screamed guilt.

  Nathan’s bodyguard lunged at her. The air rushed from her lungs from the force of his big body slamming into hers. Tyrone exploded in a vortex of torn clothing as someone pulled her back out of the way. He blurred across the room and landed on the male’s chest.

  Tyrone was a growling fury of black fur and teeth, tearing out the male’s throat while disemboweling him with his hind claws. Thick leather-clad arms held her out of harm’s way and she looked up surprised to find Oberon’s thunderous expression glaring at her brother.

  Where had he come from?

  Nathan stepped back as the large panther raised its bloody maw and focused on him. The angry rumble in the panther’s throat echoed around the large room as more men rushed in, Leon included. A cold pain stabbed through her heart at the sight of him.

  Her father changed back into human form and walked toward Nathan. His eyes glittered with bloodlust and wrath as he stood nose to nose with his son, the late bodyguard’s blood covering his face, chest, and arms.

  “Did you know about this?” Tyrone asked.

  “No.” Nathan didn’t even bat an eyelash as he stared back at his father. “Of course I didn’t. She’s my sister.”

  The way he said sister sounded more like an insult, and Kitt knew he was lying. Nathan flicked his gaze to her and his chin rose in challenge.

  “I have no proof to the contrary so for now we’ll have to take your word for it,” Tyrone hissed. “But he was in your employ, and your responsibility.”

  Kitt’s head was spinning. A female servant rushed in with a rich brocade robe and Tyrone shrugged it onto his shoulders.

  Kitt pushed out of Oberon’s arms. “I demand retribution, as is my right.” She may as well make the most of this situation.

  “The one who tried to assassinate you lies dead,” Tyrone said to her and Oberon. “What more could you ask?”

  Pride law was complicated. On one hand, she had no rights at all. But as a wronged party, Pride or not, retribution was hers to demand.

  She crossed to stand in front of her brother. “I want my children with me,” she said, watching Nathan’s face closely.

  His eyes widened and flashed dangerously. “Never,” he hissed.

  The shock must be getting to her. For a moment she thought his irises actually changed color. It was probably just his anger—

  “Done!” Tyrone tied the belt on his robe.

  “No. You can’t,” Nathan hissed at him.

  “He was your man,” Tyrone replied, then turned to look at Kitt. “While they attend the Academy and until they have their qualifications to work in the restort healers, they may reside at your apartment. But they remain members of the Jordan Pride and as such will be expected to behave accordingly.”

  “You can’t have them.” Nathan flew at Kitt.

  Her father stepped into his path, wrapped a hand around Nathan’s throat, and slammed him onto his back. Then bent low so only those very near could hear what he said. “Your man tried to kill her, and she’s entitled to retribution. Be thankful she’s not demanding your head.” Tyrone’s voice was soft, cold, and stiff. “Now, get out of my sight until I figure out what I’m going to do with you. And so help me, if I find out you had anything to do with this . . .”

  Nathan climbed to his feet when Tyrone released him, and straightened out his suit. He shot her a look of pure venom. “This is all your fault, bitch,” he hissed.

  “Enough,” Tyrone roared.

  “No.” Nathan sneered. “I’ve been loyal to the Pride for decades even though I know most talk behind my back. And now you choose this filthy whore over me, just as you always have. It was either her or Dylan. Never me.”

  Her father slapped Nathan, the guilt on Tyrone’s face only confirming her brother’s accusations. Her brother touched the cheek Tyrone had dared to strike and stalked from the room without even a backward glance.

  Tyrone’s shoulders slumped as he watched his son storm away in anger. “I’ll have the girls delivered to your apartment within hours,” he said without looking at her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Tyrone bent over the dead felian and slid the gold ring from his finger. Cold anger burned his pale blue eyes as he twisted the piece of jewelry to catch the light, and then his face blanked as he tossed it to her. “You have your compensation. Now leave.”

  Her heart shattered into ten thousand pieces.

  “Leon,” he said as the male followed her with his treacherous, tawny eyes. “Ask Mr. O’Shea to come back in, please.”

  Her father wouldn’t even look at her as she left with Oberon. This time she didn’t think it was pretense. She’d taken away his last son and his granddaughters. That was a world of hurt for one day.

  Kitt sat at the table, looking at the clock every five seconds. Night had already fallen and they still weren’t here.

  “Will you stop that?” Oberon said. “You’re spilling your coffee.”

  “Stop what?” she asked, glancing at the clock again.

  “That jiggle thing you’re doing with your leg. You do it when you’re nervous or impatient
or even just plain mad.”

  She looked down at the untouched cup sitting on the table in front of her. The pale beverage had slopped over the side and a milky pool surrounded the cup.

  He’d gone to a lot of trouble wrestling with her coffee machine to make her a latte just the way she liked, and she’d just wasted it. She stilled her leg and gave him an apologetic grimace.

  A knock on the door sent her to her feet, and she almost ran to open it. But before she did she stopped, patted down her hair, and straightened her top.

  “You look fine,” he mouthed before she could phrase the question. She painted a smile on her face and turned the handle.

  The twins stood in the hall outside the apartment, bags slung over their shoulders and suitcases in their hands. Seph wore her usual sullen look.

  “Come in, please.” Kitt stood back and waved them in with her hand. Did her voice have a nervous, higher pitch to it, or was she just paranoid? She glanced at Oberon, pleading for help.

  He winked and climbed to his feet to take their suitcases. “Follow me, girls. Your room is down the hall.”

  Kitt let out a sigh. They were here—now what? She looked around and saw the puddle still on the tabletop.

  Coffee, good idea.

  She raced into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and grabbed up the dishcloth to clean the mess she’d left on the table. Just as she finished wiping it up, Oberon came down the hall.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Oberon said.

  The panic started in the balls of her feet and rose with a prickle up her legs to spike in her stomach. “You can’t leave me alone with them yet,” she whispered.

  What would she say?

  What would they think of her?

  What did they think of their new living arrangements?

  Questions shot through her brain at lightning speed.

  Oberon snagged the wrist of the hand she raised to tug on her lip. “Don’t worry so much; I’m sure they won’t eat you.”

  “That depends on how much food you have in the house,” Cal said, smiling. “Seph can chew her way through a live cow when she’s really hungry.”

  “Hey!” Seph slugged her sister in the shoulder. “You can talk, Miss Piggy.”

  For the first time, Kitt saw Seph smile, truly smile—with her eyes as well as her mouth. She sat down on the sofa and pulled one of the cushions into her lap.

  “I’ll have to do some shopping, but I thought we could order in some pizza or Chinese for now,” she said.

  “Can we get both?” Cal asked. “I’m starved.”

  Oberon grinned. “I can see you’re a girl after my own heart.”

  “See. Told you”—Seph threw the cushion at her sister—“a major Miss Piggy.”

  Cal threw it straight back and laughed.

  “Sure, why not.” Kitt relaxed a little. “I think there’s some takeout menus in the kitchen somewhere. Your uncle used to order from Mario’s around the corner all the time.”

  “Well, on that note, I’ll leave you girls to it.” The ursian crossed to the door. “Take your time coming into work later.”

  Kitt found the tri-folded paper menus just where Dylan had left them, stuck on the side of the fridge with the Mario’s Pizza number magnet. She took them into the living room and handed them to Cal.

  “Besides a large pepperoni pizza, I want egg rolls, and noodles, and chicken wings,” Cal said while looking at the Chinese takeout choices.

  “I really miss a good feed of fish and chips,” Seph said, looking wistful. “Battered prawns, calamari rings, and fresh barra.”

  “Barra?” Kitt asked.

  “Barramundi—one of our favorite eating fish from Australia,” Cal said. “Sometimes Raven would take us over to the territory and we’d go fishing for fresh barramundi, and cook it over a fire so the skin crisped up and the flesh would just melt in your mouth.”

  “Do you miss it?” she asked her daughters. “Australia, I mean?”

  Cal tilted her head. “I guess so. It was a great place to grow up. I miss some things, and others I don’t.”

  “I miss my friends.” Seph looked down at the cushion she’d retrieved and plucked at invisible lint. “Well, some of them.”

  “She found out a couple of weeks ago that her longtime boyfriend has been sleeping with Kylie, her best friend,” Cal whispered. “They’d been seeing each other behind her back for nearly a year.”

  “Cal!” Seph said, looking a little annoyed that her sister was giving away all her private secrets.

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “Anyway, it’s former boyfriend and former best friend.” Seph puffed up. “And they deserve each other.”

  “So that’s why you always seemed so unhappy to see me?” Kitt asked and sat on the sofa, pulling her left leg under her.

  Seph shrugged. “Sorry about that; it was nothing personal. Raven always told us why you sent us away.”

  “Okay—I really want some of these dumplings too,” Cal said, “and these spare ribs look good.”

  Seph looked at Kitt, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and then they both burst out laughing.

  “What?” Cal said looking a little hurt.

  “The phone’s over there. Order what you like.” Kitt sat back, feeling much more relaxed. They didn’t hate her. In fact, they might even grow to like her.

  Chapter 30 - Girls’ Night

  “There’s one more wing left,” Kitt said, shaking the cardboard takeout box.

  “I’ll have it,” Cal said, leaning forward and fishing out the chicken piece.

  Seph groaned from where she lay on the sofa. “No more, please. I’m so full. I don’t know how you can eat another bite.”

  “Serves you right for being mean to me.” Cal sat on the floor across the coffee table from Kitt and ripped into the chicken flesh with her teeth, then smiled around a mouthful of macerated meat.

  “Oh, gross,” her sister said, whacking her lightly across the side of the head. “You’re making me sick.”

  Cal grinned and took another bite.

  “Do you really feel what each other experiences?” Kitt asked.

  “Sometimes,” Seph said. “Especially strong sensations.”

  “Though it doesn’t quite work that way all the time.” Cal chucked the bone on the plate with the rest of the leftovers. “Sometimes one will feel what the other is experiencing, even though the one it’s happening to doesn’t. Like now. I’m the one who’s overeaten, but it’s Seph getting the stomachache.”

  “Or like when one of us is with a guy, the other is . . . you know.” Cal winked.

  “Whoa!” Kitt held up her hands, laughing. “T.M.I.”

  “Yeah, Seph—look who’s being gross now,” Cal said. “You can’t talk about sex in front of our mother.”

  Kitt’s stomach flipped at being referred to as mother, but she didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

  “I love listening to your accents,” Kitt said and sighed.

  Cal screwed up her nose. “We don’t have an accent.”

  “You do,” Seph finished for her twin.

  Kitt stood. “This has been fun, but I have to pick up some vegan blood for Tones on the way into work.”

  “We were sorry to hear he got hurt,” Seph said, sitting up.

  Cal looked back at her sister and nodded. “He’s a nice guy.”

  Kitt picked up her coat and put it on, stuffing her gloves into her pocket. “Lock the door behind me and make sure you don’t open it for anyone but me, Raven, or Oberon.”

  She swiped up her keys and handbag from the counter. “And make sure you stay in the apartment,” she warned.

  “Sure,” Cal said, but Seph appeared a little cagey. It was hard to figure that girl out.

  The blustery weather outside her apartment building sent a burger wrapper scuttling past as she hit the pavement. She pulled the collar up around her ears, then shoved her hands into her coat pockets and walked against the wind in the direc
tion of her parking space.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She looked around. A few people were out and about. She lifted her hand and waved back to a human couple who lived down the hall. They were just ending their workday while she was starting hers.

  People mostly kept their heads down and concentrated on getting where they were going. No one really seemed to pay her much nevermind. Yet the dark corners appeared a little darker, the shadows a little more sinister—as if something, or someone, was there, waiting for her to make a wrong move. She shook it off. Leon’s attack still spooked her.

  Kitt wrapped her hand around a can of paramace in her pocket. Someone was following her. She couldn’t hear anything, and dared not look over her shoulder either, yet sensed she was being watched. She quickened her pace a little but her urgency didn’t lessen. It was time to get rid of Dylan’s beloved T-Bird and start parking in the underground lot, she thought.

  She jangled her keys in her pocket for comfort. The car was only a few feet away and she hit the central locking button on her car key.

  Two steps away. She reached out to open the door when a hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

  She turned, pulling the paramace canister out of her pocket, and let loose a full blast into the face of the large figure behind her.

  Joshua fell to the ground, clutching his face as he screamed in pain. Jericho leapt out of the nearby car to rush to his brother’s side.

  Damn.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching into her car to pull out a bottle of water she always carried. She cracked the top as she dropped to her knees beside the writhing felian.

  The other looked on as she peeled his brother’s hands away from his face, then poured the entire contents over his red, blotchy flesh, which had begun to blister. He instantly began to quiet.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked the unwounded brother.

  “You dropped this,” he said and picked up the black woolen glove from where Joshua had let it go.

  She reached into her coat and pulled out its twin, then stuffed them both back into her pocket. Kitt spotted the black SUV on the other side of the street with the two bodyguards who followed the girls around the campus.