I'm in so much pain that it's impossible to enjoy the feel of his warm arms around me or his body pressing into mine. “Hurts,” I mumble as I cradle my throbbing head in my hands.
“I know,” he says as he rubs my back. “It'll fade, I promise. Just don't fight it. The more you fight the pain, the longer it lasts.”
I try to pull my thoughts together, because the things he's saying bother me, but my mind is a jumbled mess thanks to the intense pain. It's pure agony. I let out a soft sob as it seems to intensify. If anything, it's getting worse, and nausea is beginning to build within me.
I'm forced to look up when Trace's hands cover my own. He forcefully lifts my head up so that he can peer at me with commanding eyes. “Look at me. Don't concentrate on the pain.”
My eyes close as my body stiffens within his arms. I can't ignore the stabbing agony in my temples... It's impossible. I feel sick to my stomach, and I know I’m on the verge of puking. Either that, or I’m going to pass out from the mind numbing pain.
Suddenly, Trace's lips come down on mine. The warmth of them seeps into my cool lips, and I feel myself go completely still as I try to figure out if he's really kissing me or not. Or have I receded into a pain-filled haze, and now I'm imagining things to get through the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life? Whether it's a fantasy or not, I can't help but get lost in it. His tongue teases the seam of my lips, and I promptly open up for him. I like that he's the one kissing me. I allow him full control as he explores my mouth. He takes his time, teasing me here and there as his tongue twists and flicks along mine, urging me to respond. He's a really good kisser. Much better than Brad. I can feel myself relaxing into him, and when the kiss ends, I'm more than a little disappointed.
“Livvy?”
I lift heavy eyelids to meet gray eyes. “Did you just kiss me?” I ask faintly as my tongue nips out, and I lick my lower lip. I can still taste him. Tonight he tastes of something sharp and salty, as if he’d just eaten not too long ago.
“Yes. How's the pain?”
I'm amazed to find that that pain has receded. Now, I'm left with a dull ache in my temples, but at least I can still function with the lighter headache.
“Better?” Trace asks as he brushes some of my hair away from my forehead.
I nod, feeling oddly drained. It's weird, but I feel like I could just curl up in his arms and go to sleep. I can feel myself doing just that as I seem to wilt against him, my cheek settling against his shoulder.
“Give me your keys. I'll drive you home.”
“Purse,” I mumble.
He keeps an arm around me and uses his free hand to open my purse and dig around. “You should always have your keys out and ready the second you leave the building,” he admonishes lightly.
I want to tell him to save his lectures for another day, but I'm too tired.
A second later, he's pulling me carefully to my feet, and I find that I'm a bit unsteady. Trace tucks me into his side and walks me to the passenger side of my car. He helps me climb in and secures the seatbelt next to my hip. The second I sink back into the seat, I feel my eyes drift shut.
***
I wake abruptly.
After blinking a few times, I look around my darkened room with confusion. Something seems...off. Like I should be remembering something. Something important. That's when I remember the horrendous headache in the parking lot at Sinfully Yours.
Trace had been there.
The memory has me sitting straight up in bed. I'm not in my usual sleepwear, and I peer down at myself. My curtains hadn't been pulled for the night, so moonlight streams in through the large windows, allowing me to see clearly. I'm still wearing the outfit I'd worn to work. My feet are bare, so someone had taken off my shoes. Had it been Trace? Or Khristos? I don't even remember coming home. I'd passed out almost as soon as my head hit the headrest in the car.
I note that my head still aches, but it's minor compared to earlier. There's also questions building up like crazy. Like how had Trace known my headache would ease if I was distracted? Had the kiss been real? Wait a minute, what was he doing in the parking lot in the first place? He shouldn't have been there unless...
Trace is the one who's been following me. He was at the diner after I'd met with Sheffield, he just happened to be around when those guys had cornered me at the club, and now he'd been there tonight when I'd needed help. Why is Khristos having him follow me? Or is Trace doing it on his own?
I need answers, and no one’s going to deter me from them.
The sheets are tossed aside as I climb out of bed. The floor is cool under my feet as I cross the room to enter the hallway. I need to talk to Trace. I'm silent as I make my through the mansion and down to the lower level. Everything is dark, and I have to flip on light switches. I find the gym empty, so’s the theater and billiards room. I find a few more doors, but they are shut, and I'm not sure what's behind them.
I hadn't looked at the clock, but I can sense it's late. I'll have to track down Trace tomorrow.
***
I'm just coming out of the shower the following morning when I hear my cell phone ringing. I clutch the fluffy towel to me as I hurry over to snatch it off my dresser. It's Kramer. I quickly answer it.
“Miss Vauss, I have some bad news,” he tells me.
My heart literally skips a beat. Has something happened to my mom? “What is it?” I ask as steadily as I can while bracing myself for the worst.
“I can no longer take your case.”
“Why?” I sputter as I walk over to my bed and sit down, feeling incredulous. How can this be happening again?
“I've changed my mind. Stop by sometime this week, and I'll reimburse you the full amount you paid. Sorry I couldn't help,” he says curtly before hanging up.
I'm left sitting there with stunned amazement. What just happened? And just like that, it truly dawns on me just how messed up my life is. My so-called uncle is having me followed, and he knows what I've been up to. He was behind Sheffield dropping my case, and I'm betting he got to Kramer as well. Of course, he had. If Trace has been following me, then he'd likely seen me go to Kramer. I guess I hadn't been as sneaky as I’d thought after all. I can't handle all these secrets anymore, and now that I know Khristos doesn't want me to find my mom, I'm ready to explode.
After I change in record time, I quickly run a comb through my wet hair before going down to the kitchen. Adelaide is there, preparing breakfast. “Have you seen Khristos?” I demand without giving her my usual friendly morning greeting. I’m being rude, but I’ve seriously had it with these people.
Adelaide looks up at me with surprise, and she sets a large spoon down next to the frying pan that has something sizzling in it. “What's wrong, honey?” Her tone is concerned, and her clear blue eyes search mine intently.
“Everything. Is he in the mansion or not?” I can feel myself getting worked up, and my temples begin to ache and throb. Another headache?
“Sit down, Livvy,” she says calmly as she walks towards me.
“I don't want to sit down, Addie,” I say flatly. “I'm sick of all the lies.” Oh, God. That knife is back, and it's stabbing mercilessly at my temple. I clutch my head, gasping with pain. “Why won't it stop?” I ask desperately to no one in particular. What's wrong with me? Am I going insane? Or is it a tumor? Am I dying?
“Calm down. The more emotional you are, the more you use up your energy, and the worse it'll get,” I hear Adelaide order as she touches my shoulder.
I flinch, backing away from her as my hands drop. I glare through pain filled eyes. “You're in on it,” I accuse with sudden certainty. “You all are. None of you are what you seem.” The pain intensifies, and I gag as nausea hits. My knees buckle, and I hit the hard floor. I can’t help but hunch over as I cradle my head desperately.
“Khristos!” I hear Adelaide yell.
I feel her gentle hands on my back, but I can't concentrate on what she's saying. All I’m aware of is the pain. It rolls
over me mercilessly, and I feel like I’m dying. Strong, unfamiliar arms replace hers and they wrap around me. “Easy, Livvy. It'll go away shortly,” Khristos tells me calmly. My entire body stiffens up. He's the last person I want comfort from. But as he speaks, I find myself listening in and focusing on him. “Damn it, Adelaide. It's too early for another one,” he growls.
“She's upset, and her emotions are draining what's left of her energy. She needs to know, Khristos.”
“Know what?” I ask through clenched teeth as I try to focus on the conversation instead of the agonizing pain in my temples.
“Shh.”
I look up and focus hazily on him through squinty eyes. “Don't shush me. Why is this happening to me?” The more I concentrate on the conversation at hand, the more the pain seems to lesson. But now that I'm thinking about it, the headache goes back to lethal proportions. I wince and bite my lip hard as I fight back a whimper.
Khristos’s eyes lock on mine for a long moment before shifting back to Adelaide. “Do you have anything to make it pass faster?”
“No. She needs to feed,” she tells him quietly, and this causes him to curse under his breath.
“What's going on?”
My head lifts slightly, and I see that Roman’s entered the kitchen.
He stares at me still kneeling on the floor beside Khristos. His eyes widen as some sort of realization flickers across his handsome features. “Shit. It's time, isn't it? Should I call Nathan?”
“Not yet,” Khristos says curtly.
As I concentrate on them, the brutal headache releases its painful grip on my head and fades. That weak feeling comes back that I'd experienced last night. I try to shrug it off, because I want answers.
“How long do you think she has?” Khristos is asking Adelaide.
My eyes lift to her as I try to figure out this increasingly odd conversation.
She gives him a meaningful look. “You're putting her life at risk if you wait any longer.”
“What?” I ask with astonishment. I stare at Adelaide first, and then my eyes swing back to Khristos as I silently demand answers.
His navy eyes search my own, and something flickers within their depths. He seems to come to some sort of decision. “Why don't we go talk in my office,” he suggests.
“Are you finally going to tell me what's going on?”
“Yes,” he says simply. He rises gracefully to his feet and holds out a hand to me.
I ignore it, and it's a struggle, but I manage to stand upright. I feel like I've been run over by a truck or something, but I am determined to walk on my own.
Khristos looks like he wants to hover, but he holds himself back and motions to the kitchen doorway. “After you.”
I'm guessing he's leery to turn his back on me and wants to make sure I don't collapse. As long as I get the answers I want, I don't care. I refuse to even glance at Adelaide or Roman. I'm in a foul mood this morning, and I am not happy with anyone in this household.
I take my time walking to the office down the hall, and when I walk towards the chair across from the desk, Khristos immediately touches my shoulder and motions me to the couch. “Sit and relax. The couch is more comfortable.”
Where I sit isn't worth arguing over, so I walk to the couch and sink down into its comfy depths. Khristos sits near me, but he's careful to leave about two feet between us. Smart man. His mouth turns slightly downward as he sighs heavily. “I wanted you to adjust to Cherry Creek before I had to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Have you ever heard the word incubus?” he asks as he watches me closely.
I look at him uncertainly. “Incubus? Isn't that the name of a band?”
“You've never heard of the incubus demon?”
“Oh, that kind of incubus. Um. Well, yeah.” Out of all the possible scenario's I'd considered, I hadn't expected to be talking about demons of all things.
“What do you know about the incubi?” he persists as he observes me from where he sits. He looks as calm as can be, his body posture relaxed.
I'm lost, and I don’t know what to think. “What does this have to do with my headaches?”
“Everything,” he says bluntly.
“I'm not following.”
“Do you know what an incubus is?”
He seems serious, so I answer him. “It's a demon that feeds off sexual energy.”
He levels me with a look. “I'm not Caroline's brother. She slept with my brother, that's how I'm your uncle.”
“What?” I ask faintly.
“We knew you'd be less inclined to come with me if you knew that I was virtually a stranger to your mother.”
My lips part, and after a brief hesitation, I ask, “Where is he? My father?”
“Dead.”
I recoil back in my seat as crushing disappointment sweeps through me. I'd always known my dad was out there somewhere, even if he didn't know about me. It had been a comfort of sorts. But now that he's dead... “How?” I whisper.
Khristos shakes his head. “It happened a long time ago, and right now it doesn't matter. What matters is you.” His eyes hold mine as he says, “I'm an incubus, Livvy. So was my brother. That makes you part succubus.”
Chapter Eleven
I stare at Khrisos as if he's grown two heads. Did he really just tell me he's a demon, which in turn makes me part demon? A succubus demon to be exact. At first, I'm struck speechless before I grow appalled. Anger slowly builds up, and my fists clench at my sides. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Resignation sweeps across his face as he rubs his clean-shaven jaw. “I knew this part would be difficult.”
“After everything I've been through, you resort to playing stupid mind games with me?” I fight back the sting of tears behind my eyes. I'm so infuriated that I want to scream. Why is it so hard to get a straight answer around here? God, just a little honesty would go a long ways with me.
“Livvy, it's not a game. I wouldn't mess with your head like that.” The corners of his eyes have tightened ever so slightly, and his posture is growing rigid.
“Oh, really? Because you and Roman have been messing with me since I got here. Don't think I didn't notice how you guys were keeping things from me. I know my room was prepared long before Brad attacked me,” I accuse as I fold my arms over my chest a bit defensively.
Khristos shifts on the couch so that he’s facing me directly. “I wanted you to have what you like. I didn't realize you'd recognize it all.”
My eyes narrow. “It doesn't surprise you that I figured it out. Trace did in fact steal that napkin, didn't he?”
He grimaces. “I needed to know where your head was at.”
The anger I feel, mixed with anxiety, replaces the weakness I'd felt moments ago. I jump to my feet and begin to pace. Khristos stands as well, his hands settling in his pants pockets as he watches me intently. He's silent, allowing me to work out my thoughts instead of trying to control the situation. I'm sure it has nothing to do with kindness. It's all about wanting to know where my head is at. Why give away all the answers if I'm not asking the correct questions, right?
“You're crazy!” I blurt out.
“I can prove what you are, Livvy,” he says as he stands there calmly, looking cool and collected while my world is going to pieces.
I point my finger at him. “You, stay away from me. What the hell did you do to my mom to get her to sign over guardianship? You had to have done something to her, because she wouldn't sign me over to a total nut case.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, a tell-tale sign that my insults are getting to him. “I know you're confused, and I understand why you would be. It's a lot to take in if you're not from our world. This is why I wanted to wait.”
“Please stop with the games. I just want the truth,” I whisper as I gaze at the stranger before me. I thought I was kind of getting to know him, but it turns out he's a total freak. I'm lucky he hasn't tried to hurt me with as long as I've been here. The
second I'm out of this office, I'm leaving.
“I'm not playing games with you.” He motions to the couch. “Will you sit down so that I can explain?”
Hell no. I cross my arms again and give him a look. “Where's my mom?”
“Your mom is the least of your worries, Livvy.”
“My mom is my biggest concern. The fact that you won't let me search for her says a whole hell of a lot. Just tell me the truth, Khristos. Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Stop lying!” I yell.
He gives me an unsettling look. “Stop yelling.”
It's then that I realize just how dire the situation is. This man believes he's a demon. He thinks I'm a demon. Yelling at him and making him mad is going to make everything worse. If he can believe the things he's telling me, he could very well turn psycho and attack me in a fit of anger. My need to challenge him dissipates like the air bursting from a deflating balloon. I need to be smart about this. He wants me to listen to him, so I'll sit and listen. If he gets whatever he wants to say off his chest, he'll be less likely to keep me from leaving his office. I hope.
“Tell me what you have to say, and I'll listen,” I say reluctantly. To make it clear that I'm serious, I warily walk back to the couch and sit down. I'm going to handle this logically and put my emotions aside for now. I'll freak out over this entire conversation later. When I'm safely on a flight that'll be taking me far away from Minnesota.
I see his eyes narrow with suspicion, and I realize I caved too easily. After a long moment, he turns and grabs one of the chairs in front of his desk. He pulls it over and sets it in front of me so he can face me as he sits down. “I know you're just humoring me, so I guess I'll humor you back,” he says dryly.
My lips clamp together as I fight back a retort.
“Livvy, have you ever wondered why Brad changed so fast?” he asks as he leans forwards slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as his elegant, tan fingers clasp loosely together. I can't help but stiffen up. Khristos nods when he sees my reaction. “You're a very smart girl. I bet that's bothered you, hasn't it? His personality went from ideal to insanely possessive in very short period of time.”
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