by Larissa Ione
“I’m sorry, son,” Riker said. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry about what happened to you. You never should have grown up the way you did.” He paused. “Do you want me to leave?”
Several agonizing seconds later, Bastien shook his head. Relief practically made Riker light-headed. He crouched next to the couch and held out Terese’s ring.
“This was your mother’s. Nicole kept it safe for a long time, and I think you should have it.”
Bastien took it as if it were made of the most delicate glass. “What was she like?”
“She was beautiful.” Riker smiled, recalling her fine features. “She was very quiet and shy, even with me.”
“You were the wild vampire who killed her, weren’t you?” Bastien asked, and Riker broke out in an oh, shit sweat. “Chuck said that if Nicole hadn’t raised the alarm that day, you would have killed everyone.”
Wait . . . Nicole? The crystal-clear recollection of that day shattered into a million pieces, each shard of memory sharper than the next. He’d been on the verge of talking Terese out of her suicide attempt when the siren went off, and she’d plunged the blade into her throat.
Nicole had been responsible for the alert?
The world fell away as his rage from earlier roared back, and Bastien, who was apparently as sensitive to negativity as his mother, shrank into the couch cushions.
Get it together, dumbass. Riker cursed silently and forced himself to relax.
“I swear I didn’t kill her, Bastien. Humans killed her.” Now wasn’t the time to tell the boy that she’d killed herself. Hell, there might never be a time or need to tell him that. “They drove her to her death. You can’t believe anything they said to you.”
Very precisely, Bastien placed a bookmark in his book and set it aside. “But Nicole is human.”
“And it was her family who killed your mother and who kept you in a cage for twenty years.” He probably shouldn’t have said that, but at least he’d said it very calmly. Progress.
Bastien frowned. “Then why is she here?”
Well, shit. Riker had stepped in that one, hadn’t he? He didn’t want to vilify Nicole, and he certainly didn’t want to destroy her relationship with Bastien. No matter what her family had done to him, she’d helped the boy more than anyone else. More important, Bastien was still working on trusting his instincts and trusting people. He trusted and cared about Nicole, and to make him second-guess his own judgment could be damaging.
“We needed her help to rescue a vampire her company kidnapped,” Riker said.
“Did you rescue the vampire?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“But Nicole helped, right?” There was so much hope in Bastien’s voice that Riker had to smile.
“She helped a lot.”
Bastien smoothed his thumb over the ring’s smooth surface. “She loves you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but she might like me sometimes.”
“She said that,” Bastien insisted.
Riker’s gut plunged to his feet. Love? Nicole had told Bastien that she loved Riker? Bastien must have misunderstood. Surely Nicole wouldn’t do that to him, wouldn’t expect him to give himself to not only a human but a Martin.
The door swung open, saving Riker from thoughts he wasn’t ready to explore. Myne strode in, ready to hit the gym in sweats and a T-shirt that was stretched to the limits on his muscular upper body. The duffel in his hand had a crossbow handle poking out the unzipped top.
“Hey, man,” he said to Riker before turning his attention to Bastien. “You ready to put on some muscle and then blow a few holes through some melons?”
“Ready.” Bastien’s shy smile reminded Riker so much of Terese that fresh anger reared its ugly head again.
Myne, always on top of things, gestured to the duffel. “Rike, you wanna come?”
As tempting as it was, Riker sensed that he’d done enough with Bastien for now. Time to let the boy absorb the visit and end it on a good note.
“Thanks, but I need to see Hunter.” Riker came to his feet and shot Bastien a wink. “I’ll see you later, okay? Have you ever had a root-beer float?”
Bastien shook his head.
“Ah, dude,” Myne said, “you’re in for a treat. Riker makes the best root-beer floats ever.”
“Really?” Bastien asked.
Myne nodded. “Really.”
Riker had never made Myne a root-beer float, and seriously, how did anyone screw one up? But he appreciated the male’s help.
“I’ll come get you later, Bastien,” Riker promised. “I’ll show you how to get in and out of the kitchen without Syrena the Wooden Spoon Tyrant catching you.”
Bastien’s grin spread from ear to ear, and for the first time, Riker felt like he had a chance to truly be a parent. To live the life Terese had been denied.
NICOLE SPENT TWO hours making origami animals and pacing around Riker’s quarters, waiting for him to come back. He’d been so angry and distraught when he left, and God, she hoped he was okay. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t leaving until he came back.
She wandered into his bedroom for the eighth time today, but there were no new pictures on the wall or trinkets on his bare dresser since the last time she came in. Well, his dresser used to be bare. Now it was home to a menagerie of paper animals and one paper vampire . . . her first. Taking the little vampire in her hand, she sank down on the bed, wishing he’d come back. Wishing he’d climb onto the bed with her and relax. Or ravish her.
She’d take either.
What she really needed right now, though, was a purpose. And a future. She flopped back onto a pillow and stared at the ceiling. At this point, she was certain she wasn’t going to turn into a vampire, so the challenge became a question of how she fit in at MoonBound. For the most part, the clan members had warmed up to her, and some, like Grant, treated her like she was no longer an outsider but a colleague. She especially liked that she’d earned some respect here, rather than it being given by Daedalus personnel simply because of who she was.
Maybe she could work with Grant in the lab. She’d spent her entire adult life working to make human life better. Could she not do the same for vampires? At least, she could until her disease progressed to the point where she could no longer function. Or until she ran out of meds.
She heard the front door open, and she clutched the paper vampire harder, her pulse picking up with excitement. “I made you something,” she called out.
Riker’s boots struck the floor with heavy thuds, and then he was in the doorway, his expression as dark and stormy as she’d ever seen it.
“Get out.”
She sat up, baffled by his anger. “Excuse me?”
“Out.” His guttural voice was as deep as thunder and just as loud. “Out of the bedroom.” He stalked over to pull her off the bed, and then he escorted her into the living room. “I told you it was off-limits. You are never to go in there, do you understand?”
She blinked, startled by his behavior. “No, I don’t understand. What is your problem?”
“Nothing.” He yanked open the fridge. “Just stay out of there.”
The image of him with Benet came back to her, of him holding her against the wall. The living-room wall. He’d said he hadn’t been with any female since Terese died. So . . . he hadn’t had a woman in the bedroom, had he?
“The bedroom reminds you of Terese, doesn’t it?”
Shrugging, he peered into the fridge. “Want a beer?”
A beer? He’d dragged her out of the bedroom like she was contaminating it with her presence, and now he wanted to play polite host?
“No, thank you.” She tapped her foot on the wooden floorboards. “Are you going to answer the question?”
“No.”
“Dammit, Riker. You owe me that, at least.”
“Fine.” He reached for a bottle from a local microbrewery. “Yeah. That’s the only place we ever had sex. She was extremely vanilla and conservative.
She didn’t let me go down on her or fuck her up against a wall like you did. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Heat infused Nicole’s cheeks at both the memories and the crude reply he’d made sound like an insult, and she had to clear her throat before she spoke.
“Okay, so what are you saying? We can have sex but only on your couch? Or against your wall? Maybe on your kitchen table?”
He fisted the bottle and popped off the cap with a violent twist of his wrist. He still wasn’t facing her. That fridge must be extremely interesting.
“I’m saying you’ve outdone her in every way possible. Sex, strength, brains. Hell, you’ve even made sure her son cares about you. And now you want to take her bedroom, too?”
“What?” Nicole felt like she’d crossed into the twilight zone. “Where is this coming from?” When he didn’t answer, she laid it out for him, plain as day, because hell if she was going to be his punching bag for whatever had triggered his asshole switch. “Your mate is gone, Riker.”
He rounded on her, his lip curled into a sneer. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Apparently, you don’t,” she shot back. “It’s been twenty years. You need to let her go.”
“Since when did you become the expert on dead mates?”
Maybe she should have taken that beer. “I’m not an expert on that, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you loved.” She stepped closer to him, instinctively wanting to comfort him somehow. “And I promise, life is so much better when you decide it’s time to move on and forgive yourself.”
“I can’t.” He took a swig from the bottle. “I won’t, and you have no right to ask me to forget her. She was a part of my life that I won’t get back.”
Stubborn man. “I’m not asking you to forget her or even to replace her. I’m asking you to move on.” Move on with me.
“You ask too much,” he snapped.
Her chest constricted painfully. Yes, she was human, a human who hadn’t even figured out her own place in the world yet, but the one thing she did know was that she wanted to find that place with Riker. She’d hoped he’d want to take that journey with her, but now doubt hung like a black cloud over her head.
She stared at him, searching for a crack in the hard shell he’d put up around himself for no reason she could discern. But there was nothing to find. Maybe she’d contaminated more than just his bedroom. Maybe she’d fouled his world, too.
“I guess there’s nothing left to say.” Hoping he couldn’t sense how much she was hurting, she turned to leave.
Riker cursed, and in a heartbeat, she found herself pushed up against the door, his hands on her shoulders.
“You aren’t leaving,” he growled. Funny, not long ago she’d have been frightened out of her skull by his fierceness, but now she knew he wouldn’t harm her. At least, not physically.
“Yes, I am,” she said, meeting his hard stare with one of her own. “You can’t have us both, Riker. I won’t be the other woman.”
His hand slipped around to the back of her neck in a gentle yet possessive grip she wished she could believe he meant. “You’re not.”
Anger flared, bright and hot. “Then what am I? A stand-in? A consolation prize?” Her eyes started to burn, and she prayed she wouldn’t cry. She needed to be strong. Stronger than she’d ever been, perhaps. “Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I need to be number one. I won’t take a backseat to a mate who left you.”
His upper lip curled, baring his fangs. “She didn’t leave me. She died.”
“She killed herself!” she shouted, desperate to get her point across. “She made a choice to leave you.”
Riker recoiled at Nicole’s harsh words, but she couldn’t let herself regret saying them. God help her, she wasn’t judging Terese, couldn’t imagine what the poor female had gone through. But Riker needed to let go of his guilt over how she’d lived and forgive himself for her death.
“Your family killed her!” he yelled back. He pushed away and, in a great sweep of his arm, sent the bottle of beer flying across the room and crashing into the wall. “Your family drove her to it. They raped and murdered her, and then they took an innocent child and abused him, too.” He jabbed his finger at her, and his voice went low, dark, like something straight out of hell. “And if you hadn’t raised the alarm that day—”
The pain in her chest became a searing agony. How had he found out about that? “And that’s what it comes down to, doesn’t it?” she croaked. “No matter what I do, you’ll never get past what my family did, and you’ll never forgive me for being born a Martin.”
Not that he didn’t have reason to hate her family. Hell, she had reason. But she wasn’t a part of that family anymore, and if Riker couldn’t see that, there was nothing she could do to change his mind.
“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you, Terese, and Bastien. I’m sorry for everything Daedalus has done to your entire race, and I wish I could do more.” She opened the door. “I don’t know what Hunter has planned for my future, but I hope you’ll stand up for me. I like it here, and I think I can contribute to the clan.”
She got out of there as fast as she could, and she wasn’t at all surprised that Riker didn’t come after her.
SON OF A bitch!
Riker banged his head against the door and stood there, forehead to the wood, hand on the doorknob. What was wrong with him?
He shoved away from the door and stared at the broken glass scattered around his quarters. Shit. He’d never had a hair trigger, had prided himself on his control. But ever since he met Nicole, his emotions had been erratic, and he couldn’t seem to get it together. He thought he could deal with Nicole’s family background, but Bastien’s revelation that Nicole had been the one to raise the alarm that ended in Terese’s death was the tipping point.
And then he’d come home to find her in the bedroom. Terese had been the only female ever in the room, and having Nicole there felt like a betrayal. How could Nicole ask him to move on, and not only move on but do it with the very person responsible for Terese’s death?
Logically, he knew it was stupid to blame Nicole for everything her family had done. But dammit, he’d wanted to strike back at the Martins for so long, and now one of them was right here . . . and he’d slept with her. He’d kissed her, fed from her, and been intimate with her.
The one person on the planet he should have stayed as far away from as possible.
A crumpled wad of paper lay on the floor near the door. He swiped it up, and his heart jerked violently when he realized what it was.
I made you something. Nicole had called to him from the bedroom, her singsong voice so full of eagerness. She’d fashioned an origami vampire for him as a gift.
And he’d not only dashed her happiness, which he knew she’d had far too little of, but he’d compounded his idiocy by once again blaming her for everything bad under the sun.
You fucking asshole. You took the best thing that’s happened to you in years and turned it into a bag of dicks.
He had to make it up to her. He had to pull his head out of his ass and make things right.
Riker started after her, but as he reached for the doorknob, his phone beeped, an urgent text from Hunter.
ShadowSpawn knows Neriya is dead. They’re on their way with a war party.
Riker hit the hallway at a dead run. He didn’t think his boots even hit the floor as he charged to Hunter’s chamber, where the other senior warriors were gathering, along with the two dozen lieutenants who operated under them. Hunter was standing at the head of the oblong table, his posture unyielding, his expression grave.
“Sit,” Hunter commanded as soon as the last senior, Baddon, entered. “Where’s Myne?” He shot a pointed look at Riker, and Riker gave him the usual response.
“He’s with Bastien. If he got your text, he’ll be here as soon as he can.” Myne had a tendency to ignore Hunter, but even he wouldn’t shrug this off.
Hunter remained standing
while everyone else took a seat. “As I said in my message, ShadowSpawn is on the way. One of our scouting parties spotted them before being engaged by ShadowSpawn forward scouts. They killed Wolfgang, and Tena barely made it back. She’s in the infirmary, but her injuries are serious. Grant’s doing all he can.”
The fuckers had killed Wolf? Shit. The warrior had been one of their best archers, and his loss would be felt for a long time. Tena wasn’t a physically powerful fighter, but she was wiry and fast, with an uncanny ability to navigate tree branches like a lemur. The two of them had partnered for patrols for three years, and while they hadn’t been romantically involved, they’d been close. Tena was going to be devastated by Wolfgang’s death.
“Send Nicole to help Grant,” Riker said. “Her knowledge of our physiology could be an asset.”
Hunter jerked his head at Takis, who was seated next to his partner, Aiden. “Message Grant with Riker’s suggestion.” As Takis whipped out his cell from his jacket pocket, Hunter addressed the room once more. “Before Tena passed out, she said one of the ShadowSpawn warriors taunted her with the coming deaths or capture of our entire clan as punishment for letting Neriya die.”
“Wait,” Riker cut in. “How did they know about Neriya?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Hunter growled. “They either have a friend inside Daedalus, which seems unlikely, or they have a friend inside MoonBound.” He raked his gaze over each warrior. “If the spy is within our clan, his head will grace the center of our table for a year and a day, and his body will be fed to the animals.”
Everyone nodded. If anything, Hunter’s punishment for a traitor sounded light.
“What about Lucy?” Riker asked. “Is she with the war party?”
“Unknown,” Hunter replied. “But what is known is that we’re out of time. We all put up dozens of options for how to deal with ShadowSpawn, but we’re down to the wire. We have to arm everyone of fighting age and get the children to our secondary location.”
“If we have a member sympathetic to ShadowSpawn, they could know where our secondary location is,” Riker said. “Hell, they could have an ambush waiting there.”