The Hailey Holloway Complete Series

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The Hailey Holloway Complete Series Page 42

by K. C. Stewart


  Fuck.

  She took a breath and another because she needed the strength. Over her shoulder she saw what could be considered a smile on Francis’s stony face.

  “Hailey,” Dak said again with no less threat than before.

  She walked those few steps into the office as if they would be her last. Silas was leaned back in his chair with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. He glared at Dak with malice in his disapproving eyes. Dak was disheveled in his few day old wrinkled t-shirt and worn hair. Too many times of running his hands through it always made it stand up in every which way. He looked like he rolled out of bed and came straight there. Stubble at least a few days old began to darken his chin, which matched the dark lines under his eyes.

  He paced the room. She counted his steps. Ten to the windows, turn, ten back, turn. When she was a few feet into the room, he stopped. Dak didn't look at her. Instead his gaze was settled out the windows. The brush off hit its intended mark and she crossed her arms protectively around her middle.

  "Silas, out."

  "You forget this is my residence." Silas clearly wasn't leaving her alone with the crazed dragon. She tried to smile in his direction but it came out more like a grimace.

  "I promise no harm will come to her."

  "Funny, I believe I once said those same words to you." Silas stood and tossed back the last of his drink. She felt his lips brush her cheek as he walked by but didn't hear the words he had whispered in her ear. All her attention was for her agitated Mate. The door closed with a heavy crack. Hailey jumped at the noise and looked back at the door. When she turned around, Dak was inches from her. She sucked in a breath. Her heart ached for him but he was so angry that she was scared to reach for him and to touch him. His eyes bore into hers searching for something. She waited for him to begin but he just stood there watching her.

  "Hi," she croaked.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "Um..."

  "It's nice to see that you do know how to stand still. I was beginning to wonder if your legs only knew how to run."

  Ouch. She cringed, physically, mentally, emotionally cringed. "Dak."

  "As I've told you before, it's Dacea."

  Well fuck. This was just off to a splendid start. "Dacea, I think you have gotten our rolls reversed. I'm the one who is mad at you, not the other way around."

  He laughed at that. It was a disturbing sound. Hailey frowned and stepped back. Who was this person?

  "Ah Céile," her favorite word was now poisoned with hatred, "You have only yourself to blame for your anger. Had you brought your concerns to me instead of sneaking around, I would have been able to explain what was happening. I however, have every reason to be angry with you." He took a step forward into her personal bubble. Her stomach had folded over on itself. She was sickened by the look in his eye and the tone in his voice. Dak's temper was slowly simmering just under the surface and was ready to boil over at any moment and she was in the splash zone.

  "Wait, this isn't right," he exclaimed and put his hands on her shoulders turning her around so she was facing the door. "That's better. I'm so used to talking to your back that I think this is more suitable for the situation."

  Christ he knew how to throw the punches. She needed to throw some back, even if they were just weak slaps. "You're one to talk." She turned. "I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other? How am I supposed to trust you if you are always keeping secrets?" His face held nothing but boredom. Try again, it told her.

  "Katherine," she pleaded, "you met with Katherine behind my back. Didn't you realize how much that would hurt me?" It was the thought that had rattled her mind these past three days. He knew what he had been doing and the effect it would have when she found out.

  "Aye, because I knew you would do something foolish if you found out!" His words sharp and his tempter hot he added, "I was saving us from that but you couldn't leave well enough alone. What did you think, that I was having an affair with her?"

  "Well, no." At first maybe she had but now she knew he wouldn't do that.

  "That I purposefully wanted to hurt you?"

  "No."

  "Maybe that I was trying to diffuse her growing hostility before it became dangerous to you, my Mate?"

  Crap. She closed her eyes and stuttered out a sigh. "No."

  "So you didn't think, you just let your jealousy steer you and then acted blindly." A statement, an utterly true statement.

  "But why couldn't you have told me about the letters from the start? Did you think I couldn't handle it? Because I can. I'm a big girl, Dak."

  "I should have, but I didn't. I'm a protector, Hailey. If I can save you a headache, I will. That's who I am and I'm not sorry for hiding it from you."

  "I wouldn't expect your stubborn ass to be sorry," she muttered.

  They stood no further than a foot apart but she felt like it was miles. She wanted to touch him but was terrified of his rejection.

  "It's not only that Hailey," his voice had lost some of its hardness, "when were you going to let me in? I've been waiting and waiting for you to fully accept me, accept what we are but it has never come."

  "I do accept it," she squeaked. Her voice sounding as small as she felt.

  "You don't. I got past your moat, but never gained entrance to the inner chambers of your soul. I've been yours from the start. All of me, completely yours." His fist went to his chest and he gave it a pound to reiterate the point. "Whatever you wanted of me was yours if you only asked. But I don't have that pleasure with you. I ask to be let in and you block me out. You just don't trust me." Dak's demeanor had changed; he was no longer just angry but also very tired. Hailey wanted to argue but he was right. She always kept him close but still a safe distance away. That’s how she kept everyone.

  "I...you're right. I know you're right and I'm sorry." She looked up from the spot on the floor she had been studying and met his gaze. "It's something I need to work on."

  "I can't. Not again. All I've ever wanted was for you to run to me, not away." She saw the love he had for her and the misery she had created within him. "I'm done, Hailey."

  The breath left her and no air returned to fill her lungs. Her mind turned over trying to make sense of the words he had just spoken. They didn't fit together in her mind. The obvious meaning couldn't be what he had truly meant.

  "Wait...I...if..." she stumbled for words, "If we just calm down for a minute, we can talk about this."

  "I am calm. This is the calmest I've felt in weeks."

  "But...done?" she asked sickened. "I love you and I'm your Mate...we can't just be..." He couldn't be done.

  "No, actually, you're not my Mate."

  *****

  Hailey sat in the leather chair behind Silas's desk. She had heard the argument in the hallway between Silas and Dak. It had a much more colorful vocabulary than hers had been. Silas fought for her. It was somewhat of a surprise. He had the opportunity to go back to wanting Dak's head on his mantle but he instead fought for what she would want. Dacea took it all with grace. Apparently all his yelling had been save for her.

  When he left, Silas had come into the room and poured her a drink. It sat untouched in front of her on the desk. He didn't talk to her but instead left her alone. She felt, rather than saw, the light change in the room. Hours were passing, time was moving and there she sat. Alone. Rejected. Defeated.

  Only one question ran through her mind. Hailey knew what his problems were. She understood them and even agreed with some of them. He had always seen her, more that she had seen herself, more than she had seen him. She wanted to be mad at him for walking out. She wanted to destroy the room in anger. She wanted to cry, scream and punch something. She wanted those feelings but they weren't there because she knew that he was right. He had every right to walk away, to give up on her. In that moment, Hailey had given up on herself too.

  So instead of fighting it, she accepted what he said as the absolute truth. Dak never did anything without care
fully considering all the consequences. He knew what he was doing when he walked into this house and again when he walked out.

  So the only question to ask now, the one that was on repeat in her head, the one that scared her more than anything else in this new world she was a part of.

  Now what?

  Chapter Eleven

  The familiar slopes of mountains formed below him. Dacea had traveled by foot and by air over them hundreds of times. These were Darby's mountains and what he considered his home. He hadn't called to tell her he was coming. There had been no time for that when he left Silas's house. He needed a slice of home to offset the crushing depression that was threatening to obliterate him.

  What happened with Hailey was for the best. She never wanted any of this and he was giving her back the life she had before. It had been foolish to think it could have worked out between them. Human relationships rarely do. Their kind are just too closed minded to the unknown. It made for a harder transition. Hailey had dealt with it as best she could, but even Dacea saw how hard it was for her to grasp the supernatural.

  There were some things he needed to still work out. Silas had a few choice words for him before he left but he would look after Hailey like he asked. If there was one place on earth she was safe, it was with Silas. Dacea's dragon pointed out that she was also safe with them. He didn't approve of walking away from their Mate. Not only was he at odds with his mind and his heart, but now with his other self.

  The war had not officially begun. He could still approach the Council and end the charades. It made no sense for him to continue since the reason behind it was sitting back at Silas's house. However, part of him wanted to continue on with the plan to go rogue. Not because he still had hope that Hailey would open herself to him, but because things needed to change in their society. The Council was obsolete as it was and needed an upgrade to the 21st Century.

  He circled over Darby's cabin a few times to let her know he was there before landing. She would help him figure it out. Darby was a great listener and an even better councilor.

  After changing back to his human form he ran the 100 yards to her cabin. It had snowed recently and there was at least six inches of it freezing his toes. She had left a pile of clothes on the steps. Sweatpants, t-shirt and some much desired socks were slipped on.

  The door creaked when he rushed in. It always creaked and he had always promised to fix it but one disaster after another prevented him from doing the simple task. A sampling of guilt flew through him. Darby helped him so much these past few months and he couldn't even fix a squeaky hinge. He'd do it now. Do all the things he promised while he was here.

  There was a pot of coffee brewing and two mugs set out. Dacea poured a cup for himself and drank it black. He needed the bitter jolt.

  Her place was looking a little worse for wear. The pride she had for the cabin was showing its decline. A layer of dust had settled over everything, as well as a pile of newspapers and discarded mail. She worried him being up here all alone. But countless phone calls had assured him that she was fine. Now he knew that wasn't the case.

  "Darby?" he called.

  He heard the shuffle of feet and she came into view seconds later. What he saw was a shock. This was an outline of the Darby he knew. She was bones covered by skin. No muscle or fat to fill out her petite frame. The sweatshirt that covered her hung from her shoulders and nearly drowned her.

  Dacea went to her, his broken heart simply shattering at the sight. He cupped her sunken cheek with a shaking hand. Ghostly pale skin all but glowed against his warm, almost tan in comparison hand. No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. He couldn't do this now.

  "Darby..."

  She frowned. "None of that Dacea. Don't you cry over me."

  Was he crying? His free hand reached to investigate and found his cheeks damp.

  "So what brings you here?" She stepped around him and went to pour a cup of coffee for herself. Dacea watched her move and could see the pain that each step brought her.

  "Why didn't you tell me you had gotten this bad?"

  "Because you have a life and don't need to be worrying over my boney ass." She gave the part in question a small pat with her free hand. "Seriously Dacea, you knew this was happening. I could see it in your eyes the last time I was down."

  "Yes but...I thought you had more time," he admitted.

  She walked past him again and settled into the couch. The look of relief once she was comfortable hurt him. Darby, his sister by choice, Mate of his late best friend, was truly dying.

  And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

  He had seen it happen with his father. It had been a much faster process but Darby had been holding on for him. Had she not fought so hard to live, he was sure he would have lost her weeks ago, months even. Dacea sat beside her and wound his fingers with hers.

  "How much longer?"

  "Too long."

  "Don't say that," he scolded with very little heat.

  "Why not?" she asked. Darby leaned forward to set her mug down on the coffee table. Her hand shook from the weight of the mug. Dacea took the mug from her and waited till she settled back before placing it on the table. He then turned toward her, still connected by their linked hands and wept.

  In one day, he lost his Mate and now his best friend. She wasn't gone yet but soon, soon she would be gone from this world. Darby held onto him; let him empty all of himself with no judgment or comment. When he was done she wiped his face with her frail hands.

  "This isn't all for me."

  "No, it's not." He covered her hands with his own.

  She frowned, her voice soft, "What happened?"

  "It's not important now."

  Darby pulled her hands from his grip. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'you're what's important' I'm going to hex you."

  Dacea smiled. At least she still had her spark. "Then I just won't say anything." She rolled her eyes but returned the smile.

  "How about I start dinner and then we talk. Go shower or something." She began the strenuous process of standing. He was having none of that and made her sit back down.

  "I'll make us dinner. You relax and tell me what's been happening on the mountain." He was up and kissing her head before she could argue.

  "I was going to make stew."

  "And now I am going to make stew. Stay put." As she tried to get up again he grabbed her legs and swung them up on the couch. "Stay there and let me care for you." He hadn't meant to scold her but independent women were giving him a headache as of late. He needed this and she knew it. So she pointed to her mug of coffee and let him retrieve it for her.

  "The mountain has been quiet. I think it knows."

  He knew what she meant. Being a witch, Darby had a strong connection to nature. She settled there because the mountain talked to her. It told her where to build her cabin and took care of her as she took care of it.

  "I'm sorry," he told her with a glance of sympathy before going back to cooking. He had the meat going in one pan as the vegetables started to soften in another. The pot already had stock in it and was warming.

  "It's ok. I just feel bad for leaving it unprotected."

  "It won't be. I'll take care of your mountain."

  She sighed and rested her head back with unshed tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

  *****

  His hope to find peace from the ever growing agony of leaving Hailey was impossible. Even here in the place he considered home, she was lurking. The bedroom that was once his had once been hers too. The trail he ran in the mornings was the one she had run. In such a short time Hailey had made an impact on this place.

  Dacea had lain in bed the night before and swore he could smell her there. His sleep had been restless as he caught glimpses of her through their bond. It didn't help the next morning when he found a t-shirt of hers amongst the clothing he kept in the closet. Was this how it would always be? he wondered. Would he see her in his dreams and feel her when h
e woke for the foreseeable future?

  In the end he had let her shirt drop to the ground as he pulled a pair of sweat pants from the pile. It laid in a blue pile while he stretched a shirt of his own over his head and shoulders. And when he grabbed a hooded sweatshirt off the hanger, he didn't bother to look at it. He left his room ignoring and avoiding the simple piece of cotton.

  Dacea had gotten up for a run at dawn. His restless mind needed something to focus on. The bitter cold of the morning was just the bite he needed. The cabin was quiet. He looked in at Darby and found her piled underneath a dozen blankets. Her pale skin was almost translucent, especially against the dark blue pillow. The contrast in coloring was severe and staggering. Had it not been for the red tinge to her nose and cheeks he would have thought she was dead.

  Darby and Dacea hadn't gotten the chance to talk the previous night. He was so hung up on how she looked that he had forgotten about his own problems. She didn't, of course. He knew that look in her eye and Darby was just biding her time.

  He turned from her doorway leaving what couldn't be helped to sleep a little longer and went first to the wood stove. He added a few logs to the embers and gave them a little boost with a breath of fire. The logs crackled as the bark's splintered pieces caught fire. By the time he got back it would be toasty in there.

  For a second he let the dancing flames mesmerize him. The oranges and yellows moved together in a sensual tango. It reminded him of the way he and Hailey had moved together in bed. The chemistry between them could dance like that of the fire.

  As his eyes unfocused he could see the last time they were intimate. Skin cradled skin with soft curves and cherished caresses. He could hear the sounds of their affection for each other. He could taste the heat of sex in the air. It was intoxicating. To go back to that moment and relive it would be a gift. One neither of them deserved. But still, he wanted to feel the silky strands of her hair fall in a wave around them, to see the look of surrender in her glazed over eyes when she finally gave in to the movements and hear the whisper of her love as they lay naked recovering.

 

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