by Zoe Chant
A little wyvern girl with big green eyes, told by her own mother that she was broken. A mother who named her younger daughter Hope. It was a good thing he was never likely to meet the woman. It was generally frowned-upon to attempt to turn one’s mother-in-law into a shish-kebab.
Not that she was ever going to be his mother-in-law. Hugh forcibly reined in his vengeful unicorn, tamping down its righteous fury. There was a better way that they could serve their mate.
Hugh touched Hope’s wrist with two fingers, feeling again the old, malign influence of the venom in her blood. Her immune system was like a weary army, ground down by long years of war, nearly ready to break. The poison was slowly eating away at her nerves, paralyzing her body an inch at a time as her defenses failed.
“So.” Ivy’s face was set in an uncaring mask, but a desperate hope shone in her eyes. “Can you heal her or not?”
With all his heart, he wanted to shout Yes, yes! If he could have restored Hope in a single touch of his horn, he would have shifted then and there, and secrecy be damned. He would have done anything to finally see his mate smile.
“I don’t know,” he said reluctantly, hating the way his words snuffed out the light in those emerald eyes. “Maybe. I’d need more time.”
“How much time?” Ivy demanded.
“I haven’t a clue. I’ve never tried to heal anything like this before. I mostly deal with trauma patients.” He spread his hands in Hope’s direction. “Something like this, damage done over years…I don’t know if I can reverse it.”
“What about just stopping it?” Hope asked. “So it doesn’t get any worse? I mean, it would be kinda nice to be able to move my legs, but I’m much more interested in not suffocating to death before my twentieth birthday.”
Hugh rubbed his fingers together, thinking it over. “I’m pretty sure I could at least stop your condition from getting worse. But it could take weeks to purge all the venom from your body.”
Hope’s face fell. “Oh. We don’t have weeks. We have to go today.“
“You’re leaving?” Even though he’d fully intended to never see his mate again, his heart still lurched at the thought.
“Not anymore,” Ivy said firmly. “If this is even a possibility, we’re not going anywhere.”
“I thought we had to.” Hope looked up at her sister, biting her lip. “What about the police? And Gaze?”
“Don’t worry about the police,” Hugh said, before Ivy could respond. “The shifter police would still like to talk to you both, but they know the acid spray was an accident. Griff had a word with his friends on the force and explained the situation to them.”
“I told you he would,” Hope said triumphantly to her sister.
Ivy scowled, looking more irritated than pleased at this news. “Great. So now we’re even more in his debt.”
What sort of life has she led? Hugh wondered. To be so wary of accepting help…what happened to them?
“It’s not a matter of debt,” he said. “He has a soft spot for you two. Who’s Gaze?”
“My problem.” Ivy squared her shoulders. “And one I’ll sort out.”
Hope looked worried. “Ivy—“
“I said I’ll deal with it. If Hugh can heal you, it’s worth any risk to stay.” Ivy turned to him. “Well? Are you willing to try?”
He opened his mouth to say Yes, of course…and hesitated.
Unbidden, his mind flashed back to his residency. How confidently he’d swept into the hospital, feeling like some all-powerful, benevolent god. Certain that he could save everyone with just one touch of his hand.
And look how well that had turned out.
Am I being arrogant now? What if I’m wrong? What if I can’t heal Hope?
No matter Ivy’s assertion that she’d handle the mysterious ‘Gaze,’ it was clear the pair were in serious trouble if they’d been planning to skip town today. Was he putting his mate at risk for nothing?
Ivy strode forward, breaking his introspection. Planting herself squarely in front of him, she looked him straight in the eye.
“You do whatever it takes to heal my sister,” she said. “And in return, I swear I’ll get out of your life. Forever.”
“Ivy, no!” Hope exclaimed, looking horrified. “You can’t. He’s your mate!”
Ivy ignored her sister, focused on him like a laser. “You’ll never have to see me again. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Here’s your chance. A one-time deal.”
He lifted his own chin, meeting her blazing gaze head-on. “And what if I don’t like this deal?”
Ivy ground the heels of her boots into his oriental rug, planting her feet like a boxer squaring off. “Then I’m not moving an inch. As God is my witness, if you don’t try to heal my sister, I will haunt your steps like your own damn shadow. I will follow you at work. When you go shopping, I’ll be there, staring at you between the aisles. I will break into your house and move all your stuff and sleep in your bed.”
His unicorn thought this was an excellent idea.
“I will rub my scent on everything you own,” Ivy said, apparently warming up to her theme. “Your whole territory will reek of me. I’ll be the last thing you smell when you go to sleep, and the first thing you see in the morning.”
Also excellent. Hugh was distantly aware that he should probably be interrupting, but he couldn’t drag himself away from the captivating vision of waking up to find Ivy in his bed. Naked. Her tousled hair spread over his pillow, her warm curves nestled against him…
“I will hide in your bushes. I will open all your mail and write creepy comments.” Ivy appeared to grope for more threats. “I will—I will sing to you.”
“You really don’t want her to do that,” Hope interjected. “I’ve heard her in the shower. She’s terrible.”
Hugh cleared his throat. It was hard to form words when most of his blood wasn’t making it as far as his brain. He was very glad his white coat hid his crotch.
“Well, I certainly don’t want you to sing at me,” he said. “Or open my mail, for that matter.”
All the rest however, she was more than welcome to do, and twice on Sundays. Damn it, he had to get control of himself. Fifteen minutes in her presence and he was already reduced to a raging mass of hormones. This was a disaster.
He folded his own arms, mirroring Ivy’s belligerent pose. Surreptitiously, he gripped his biceps, reminding himself of what was written there. What was still unwritten. His fingernails dug into his own muscle, the small bite of pain a bitter forewarning of all the pain that he would cause if he weakened.
He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he had to do. “If I help your sister, you promise you’ll leave me alone?”
“I swear it on my sister’s life,” Ivy said, as Hope stared at him in mute betrayal.
Hugh forced himself to hold out his hand. “Deal.”
Ivy looked down at his outstretched hand as if she’d never seen one before. His heart broke for her as he realized that probably she never had. Not one held out to her, at least.
Slowly, Ivy clasped his hand in her own gloved one. “Deal.”
Chapter 7
This was a terrible idea.
The barista behind the slate-and-reclaimed-wood counter was already giving her the hairy eyeball. Ivy’s grungy layers of thrift-store denim clearly didn’t fit in with the trendy cafe’s carefully-cultivated shabby-chic decor. Ivy sipped the overpriced latte that she couldn’t afford, making it last as long as possible, and tried not to dwell on how badly wrong this deal could go.
But she had no choice. She’d do anything to buy Hope even the slightest chance of recovery.
The deal she’d struck with Hugh, now that had been a good bargain. She’d gotten the one thing she wanted more than anything else—a chance for Hope—and in return all she’d had to give away was something she couldn’t keep anyway.
Yes we can, hissed her wyvern. Our mate! Go back, claim him, now!
Ivy grimaced, mentally muzzl
ing her beast. Her unruly wyvern was even more agitated than usual, baffled and furious by the agreement she’d made with Hugh. The stupid animal couldn’t understand just what a good deal it was.
And now she could only pray that she could strike another one.
“I have to say, Ivy Viverna.” Gaze slid into the booth opposite her, eyebrows raised over the rims of his mirrored sunglasses. “That was not a Facebook message I was expecting to receive this morning.”
The basilisk shifter did fit in with the hipster decor. Dressed in slim jeans, an ironic vest, and a white dress shirt with sleeves carefully pushed up to display his muscled forearms to best advantage, he looked more like a lifestyle blogger than a crime boss. He made a slight gesture at the barista, who simpered and started fixing what was obviously his regular order.
Gaze turned his attention back to Ivy, studying her for a long moment without speaking. Even though his eyes were hidden, his scrutiny still made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. She hadn’t forgotten the agonizing burn of being pinned by his unshielded stare.
“I’m curious to hear why you wanted to meet.” Gaze accepted an espresso from the barista, and waved her off again. “I thought you’d have had the sense to skip town by now.”
“Yeah, well.” Ivy leaned back, trying to copy Gaze’s relaxed, assured pose. “I have some business that I need to take care of.”
Gaze’s head tilted slightly. “Business involving Hugh Argent?”
Ivy’s coffee cup rattled on its saucer as she twitched. “Are you following me?”
“Oh, come now, Ivy. You’re smarter than that.” Gaze picked up his own coffee, taking a casual sip. “Of course I’m having you followed. You didn’t think that you could just walk away after last night, did you?”
“No.” Ivy’s tongue was dry in her mouth. “That’s why I want to make a deal.”
“I distinctly recall that you rejected my very generous offer. In no uncertain terms.”
“I’ve…things are different. My sister’s starting some new medical treatment which means we have to stick around Brighton for a bit longer.” Ivy folded her hands on the table to hide how they were shaking. “And that means I don’t want to be on your bad side. I know I can’t protect my sister from you, not on your home ground. So. What will it take to get you off my back?”
She already knew the answer. He was going to want her venom. Deadly poisons, powerful acids, addictive hallucinogens…a wyvern shifter could make all kinds of useful things for a man like Gaze.
Once again, she was putting herself under the thumb of a dangerous, amoral criminal. Only this time, she was going into it with her eyes wide open. She knew exactly what she was doing.
To save Hope, she’d sacrifice her very soul.
Gaze contemplated her for a long, agonizing minute. It was impossible to tell what was going on behind those mirrored sunglasses.
When he spoke, however, his words were the last thing Ivy had expected. “Tell me more about this medical treatment.”
Ivy was so wrong-footed, she could only blink stupidly at him. “Huh?”
“Hope told me she has motor neuron disease.” Gaze leaned his elbows on the table, his posture oddly intent. “That’s incurable, as far as I’m aware.”
“Yeah, uh…we just found out about this new thing. It’s kinda experimental. Never been tried.”
Gaze tipped his head forward, his sunglasses sliding down his nose just far enough to expose his glowing, blood-red eyes. Before Ivy could look away, she’d once again been caught by that burning stare.
“You have been only two places since the incident last night,” Gaze said softly, as buzzing pain vibrated through her paralyzed body. “Your home, and that of Hugh Argent. Your sister is still there with him now. Tell me the truth, Ivy. Your sister has not been miraculously offered some new experimental treatment. Hugh is healing her. And I want you to tell me everything—everything—you know about him.”
He pushed his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes again, freeing her. Ivy had to breathe deeply for a moment, every nerve in her body still quivering as if she’d stuck her fingers in an electric socket.
“Go to hell,” she croaked.
Hugh was an asshole, but he was still her asshole. Ivy hadn’t a clue why Gaze was so interested in him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to throw her mate to the basilisk.
Gaze raised his hands, and she couldn’t help flinching—but he just steepled his fingers, regarding her calmly through his shades. “You seem interestingly loyal to the paramedic, considering that you’d never, as far as I’m aware, met before yesterday. And I have never known Hugh Argent to let anyone into his house—and believe me, I have had my best professionals fail to secure an invite, no matter how they attempted to seduce him. So why you and your sister?”
“Guess he’s got a soft spot for hard-luck cases,” Ivy said, while her wyvern snarled at the idea of other women throwing themselves at Hugh. “It’s called compassion, asshole. Look it up in the dictionary some time.”
Gaze chuckled under his breath. “Oh dear, Ivy. It seems I know Hugh considerably better than you do. From what I have heard, he would never do anything merely out of pity. For a medical professional, he is remarkably acidic.”
“Maybe that’s why he likes me,” Ivy said, trying to ignore the part of her that wished that was true. “We’ve got something in common. Why do you care, anyway?”
“There are rumors about the paramedic. Rumors that interest me. And if he truly can heal your sister—and oh yes, Ivy, I know full well that she does not really have motor neuron disease—then I am very interested indeed. So interested that I am prepared to offer you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Ivy asked warily.
Gaze leaned back in his seat. “Find out what sort of shifter Hugh Argent is. In return, I will leave you alone. You and your sister.”
“That’s it?” Ivy squinted at him, suspecting some sort of trick. “You just want to know his animal? Why don’t you just have your goons follow him and wait until he shifts?”
“Because he never does. Believe me, I have spent considerable time and effort trying to unravel the mystery that is Hugh Argent. If you can do that, then you would have my gratitude. Which is something that you sorely need.”
Ivy chewed on her lip, every instinct screaming that this was too good to be true. She’d been fully prepared to give Gaze whatever he wanted…and what he wanted turned out to be such a tiny, trivial thing. There had to be some sort of catch.
“Are you trying to find out if he’s something defenseless?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Because if you’re thinking of kidnapping him and forcing him to work for you, let me remind you that he’s already got a boss. I can tell you that Fire Commander Ash does not appreciate anyone messing with his people.”
Gaze’s mouth tightened. “Oh, I am fully aware that the paramedic is under the protection of the Phoenix. That inconvenient fact is all that is stopping me from making rather more direct inquiries, shall we say. I have been forced to take more subtle approaches. But you, it seems, may be the key to unlock his secrets at last.”
“You’re wrong,” Ivy said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t find out squat for you. He hates me. He told me to my face that he never wants to see me again.”
Gaze’s eyebrows rose. “I find that difficult to believe. Seeing as not only is he helping you with your sister, apparently he is on his way to this very location even as we speak.”
Ivy stared at him. “What?” she said blankly.
“With, and I quote,” Gaze’s head tilted to one side, as if he was communicating telepathically with someone, “‘a face like a pissing thunderstorm,’ according to the somewhat crude man I have on his tail. For someone who you claim has no interest in you, Ivy, the paramedic seems remarkably protective.”
Ivy was still chewing that one over when Gaze pushed aside his espresso, rising. Chairs scraped as four other peopl
e—ranging from a hulking skinhead to a teen girl in black motorbike leathers—stood as well. Ivy tensed, readying herself to pull off her gloves, but they merely fell into position behind their boss, like bodyguards around a celebrity.
“The time is not yet right for Hugh Argent and myself to cross paths,” the basilisk shifter said, adjusting his sunglasses. “So I must take my leave. I look forward to your report with great anticipation. Oh, and Ivy?”
This time, Ivy was prepared. She jerked her eyes away, fixing them on Gaze’s shiny shoes to avoid his stare…but she couldn’t block out his voice.
“If you do not give me Hugh Argent’s secrets, then I will come after your sister.” All of Gaze’s fake friendliness fell away, his tone dropping to a cold, poisonous whisper. “No matter how far you run, how well you hide, I will find you. And then, I will turn you both into living statues. Unmoving, unbreathing, undying…but suffering. Trapped in agony. Forever.”
Gaze straightened. “A pleasure doing business with you,” he said, in a totally normal voice. “I expect results soon, Ivy. Very soon.”
Ivy sat frozen, as motionless as if he’d already carried out his threat, as Gaze waved his people to follow him out. Her wyvern screamed to be released, wanting nothing more than to obliterate Gaze, all his henchmen, and the entire building. She gripped the edge of the table hard, venom sweating into her gloves as she fought to control her furious animal.
The tall girl in the black leathers hesitated as she passed Ivy’s seat. Through the mist of her wyvern’s rage, Ivy dimly recognized her as one of the teens Hope had been chatting with at Gaze’s party.
The girl’s eyes flicked from Ivy to the other gang members’ retreating forms, and back again. “Is Hope okay?” she mumbled.
Ivy very nearly spat acid straight into her face. Swallowing hard, she got a grip on herself. “Piss off.”
The girl flinched, but didn’t back down. “She’s not answering my messages. I just need…I just want to know if she’s all right. Please?”
“Jezebeth!” the tattooed skinhead snapped from the doorway. “Heel!”