by Tami Lund
Gavin’s mind cleared for a moment, and he took a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t,” he said, as suspicion began to fill his mind. Surely not . . . ?
“Why not? You can have your life back. Return to being a Rakshasa, like you want. No more guilt. No more depression. No more emptiness.”
“No more Chala,” Gavin snapped. No more love. He doubted that thought would have any impact on the dangerously delusional Fate, though, so he tried another tact. “If my curse is lifted, it’s a death sentence for Sydney.”
The Fate shrugged. “She’s surrounded by Light Ones who love her. They’ll protect her.”
“By the time they even comprehend what’s going on, I will have already walked into her bedroom and torn her body limb from bloody fucking limb.”
Killian winced, but did not back down. “Counter curses take several hours to take effect. You’ll still have enough of a conscience to get yourself away from here, before you fully turn into a Rakshasa again. And then I’ll instruct the Light Ones to pack her up and take her someplace safe, where you’ll never find her.”
“I’d find her.” The comment was flat, without inflection. He was absolutely convinced what he said was true. If not because of his connection to the woman he loved, then because he would be a Rakshasa again, a ruthless, emotionless killing machine. With the added knowledge that he’d taught the Light Ones who would be protecting her everything they knew. They wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance.
But Killian clearly did not hear the warning in Gavin’s tone. Either that, or he was just fucking crazy. Or he wanted the last known Chala in the world to die. Whatever his reasoning, the Fate began muttering words in a foreign tongue, and it finally dawned on Gavin what he was doing.
“Stop!” Gavin lurched toward the other man, but the words pushed into his head and through his veins, turning his limbs to lead. He tried to make a grab for Killian, but the Fate danced out of his reach.
“. . . Comatus re hauten lue cursias.” Killian finished and snapped his mouth shut, a triumphant look on his face.
“Bastard,” Gavin rasped, dropping to his knees and clutching at his chest as if he were having a heart attack. “You just fucking killed her. You just killed Sydney. Goddamn it!”
He struggled to his feet and staggered across the kitchen like a drunken man. He grabbed the front of Killian’s shirt and shoved the Fate against the wall, leaning forward until his face was only inches away from Killian’s. He knew his eyes were glowing as brightly as burning embers, the pupils probably already darkening. When he’d been a Rakshasa, his eyes had been pitch black. They’d turned pale blue thanks to Prim’s curse. He had always felt nothing but deep hatred for the Fate who cursed him in the first place, but suddenly, he wished she were here. She would never have allowed Killian to recite that counter-curse.
“Get Sydney out of here. Do you hear me? I don’t know what kind of fucked up game you think you’re playing, but it ends now. Get her and get away from here. Now. I–don’t–want. I can’t . . . kill her.” Gavin gasped, as he once again dropped to his knees.
Pain surged through his system and he grimaced as he fought it. Pointlessly. The curse had been lifted. It might take time to fully release from his system, but the deed was done. It was only a matter of time before Sydney was gone. Dead. At Gavin’s hands.
“What the hell are you waiting for? Are you a Fate or are you a pussy? Get her out of here before the curse is completely gone!”
The back door opened, drawing Gavin’s attention. Brandon Haines walked through and hesitated when he saw Gavin on his knees on the floor, clutching his head. Killian stood with his back pressed against the wall, a look of terror on his face.
“What’s going on?” Brandon asked sharply, automatically looking to Gavin for the answer.
“Brandon,” Gavin rasped, throwing himself toward the shifter. Using Brandon’s body for leverage, Gavin grabbed the other man’s legs and began the difficult process of pulling himself to his feet.
“Curse,” he said on a gasp.
“This Fate cursed you? Another one?” Brandon sounded confused. “What the hell did you do to piss him off that badly?”
Gavin shook his head. “Counter-curse,” he said, a growl in his voice.
“Counter what?”
“Listen to me,” Gavin commanded, feeling almost lucid for a moment. “Get Sydney. Get her the hell out of here. He released the curse. I’m going to kill her, Brandon. Don’t let me kill her,” he pleaded. He sounded like a frightened child, but he didn’t give a hot damn. All he cared about at the moment was getting through to Brandon, so he would save Sydney. He was the only Light One Gavin trusted to keep her away from him. And even then, he knew sooner or later, he would find them.
He had been the best of the best, after all.
“Holy fuck.”
“Find Prim. Prim can fix this. She can curse me again. Damn it!” Gavin released his hold on Brandon and dropped to the floor, curling up into a ball. His entire body shimmered as he shifted between human and animal form. Most shifters, when in their animal form, had significantly less self-control than when they were in human form. It was one reason shifters most often fought in animal form. When they were animals, they never hesitated. When they were in human form, they almost always did.
“Holy fuck,” Brandon said again, as he turned to the Fate that was still cowering behind the kitchen door. “You did this?”
Killian hesitated and then nodded.
“Turn him back. Re-curse him or whatever the fuck you have to do, but make this stop. Now, damn it!” Brandon thrust his finger at the man/shifter writhing on the floor.
Killian’s head whipped from side to side. “C-Can’t,” he stuttered. “D-D-Don’t know th-the curse. Prim–Prim made it up.”
“Prim?”
“The Fate. The one who cursed him in the first place.”
“Great. Where the hell do I find her?”
Killian hesitated, his gaze sliding to the shifter lying on the floor. Gavin’s gaze locked with his. “Your eyes are black,” the Fate whispered, his own eyes so wide they looked as though they encompassed half his head. “It’s happening much faster than I expected.” He tore his gaze away from Gavin. “Not here,” he said, speaking to Brandon. “Not in front of–of the Rakshasa.”
Brandon shook his head. “He’s not a—” But the words died on his lips, as Gavin staggered to his feet again. His face had gone gaunt, as if he’d aged a great deal in just a few moments. His eyes glowed like black embers.
Black embers? His eyes were blue. Pale blue.
“Gavin?” he asked, hesitantly.
Gavin appeared to have an internal struggle, as he tried to answer Brandon. “Sydney,” he ground out. “Save . . . Sydney. Save her. Don’t . . . let—”
“I got it. I won’t let you kill her. Go on. Get the fuck out of here. We’ll go get Prim and come find you. But we’ll tuck Sydney away first. Somewhere you’ll never find her.”
Gavin grabbed the front of his shirt, twisting it in his fist. Brandon winced as he tugged out a couple of chest hairs.
“Go,” he said again. “Get the fuck out of here before I hit you.”
Gavin’s head swiveled like a mechanical thing, as he turned and stared at the darkened hallway, an expression of intense longing on his face. As Brandon watched, his features twisted, and suddenly he was an animal, a predator, planning his next calculated move.
Sydney was coming downstairs.
Brandon grabbed Gavin’s T-shirt and bodily pushed him toward the backdoor. “Get out of here,” he instructed. “Get the fuck out before you hurt her.”
Somehow his words penetrated Gavin’s brain. He gave the hall one last longing look and then turned and lurched through the back door. Precious few moments later, Sydney hustled into the room,
tightening the sash of her robe as she walked, concern etched onto her face.
“What’s going on? Where’s Gavin? I just had the strangest feeling come over me.”
“Like what?” Brandon asked curiously, as he kept one eye on the door through which Gavin had just fled.
Sydney pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in concentration. “Like, like I can’t feel Gavin any more. Well, I think I can still feel him, but it’s different. Cold. Strange. What’s going on?”
“You can actually feel him?” Brandon hadn’t known that.
“Of course I can,” she snapped. “He’s my mate.”
“He isn’t your mate.” Killian spoke up for the first time since Sydney entered the room.
She blinked and then focused on him. “He most certainly is my mate, and anyone who doubts that can answer to me.” The warning was clear. To everyone except Killian, apparently.
“No he isn’t. He’s a Rakshasa. They don’t mate with Chala. Your mate is one of these shifters here in the house. Like him.” Killian waved in Brandon’s direction.
Brandon looked at Sydney. Sydney looked at Brandon. And both blanched, at the same time.
“I’ve chosen my mate,” Sydney said stiffly, as she shifted her gaze away from Brandon. “I have absolute faith Brandon can protect me, but I’m not attracted to him like that. We’re friends. Period.”
Brandon was glad to hear she had faith in his ability to keep her safe, since that faith was about to be tested. He needed to find out where the hell this Prim character was, so he could get her to re-curse Gavin. While Brandon had bested the other shifter once or twice on the practice field, the stark reality was, if Gavin wanted Sydney dead, he would eventually succeed at his task.
“We need to—”
“No you haven’t.” Killian cut him off, responding to Sydney’s earlier proclamation that she’d chosen her mate. “If you had, William would be gone.”
What the fuck was wrong with this Fate? He was by far the pissiest person Brandon had ever met. All day long, he pointed out the negative in everything.
“This conversation is pointless,” Sydney said bluntly, and then she turned to Brandon. “Where is Gavin?”
“We have a situation,” Brandon said.
“A situation? What sort of situation? Brandon, tell me what’s going on.” She was becoming agitated. Brandon could see the fear seeping into her eyes. Without really knowing, she knew something was wrong with Gavin.
“He’s okay, isn’t he? He’s not, he’s not d-d-d—”
“Dead? No. Definitely not dead.”
“Then what?”
Brandon could see she was fast losing patience. And they were fast losing time. At any moment, that curse reversal could take full effect and Gavin could turn right back around and come after her. He wouldn’t let Gavin kill Sydney, but he didn’t exactly relish the fight that would ensue if Gavin tried. And Brandon knew damn well that Gavin without a curse would try to the death.
Brandon had lost his desire to kill Gavin about a month ago.
“We have to find Prim,” he said as he turned to the Fate who was even now attempting to slip out of the kitchen. His arm shot out and caught Killian by the neck. Fates couldn’t die, since they weren’t really alive in the first place, but they could still feel pain.
“Where the hell is she?”
Killian gasped for breath as his face turned several shades of red and then purple.
Sydney’s hand came down on Brandon’s arm. “Brandon, you’re suffocating him. Let him down. He can’t speak like that anyway.”
Brandon released the Fate, who dropped to the ground like a stone. Sydney gave Brandon an irritated look and bent to help the man to his feet. Her robe gaped open for a moment, revealing most of the curve of one breast. Brandon didn’t even react. She was his Chala, but she was his Chala in the sense that she was his leader–his pack leader’s mate. He’d never once felt an ounce of longing for Sydney, probably because he knew, subconsciously at least, that from day one her heart had belonged to Gavin.
Sydney helped a gasping and wheezing Killian into a kitchen chair and then turned back to Brandon. “Now. Why do we have to find Prim? I have to tell you, she isn’t my biggest fan, and I pretty much share the sentiment. She thinks I’m an idiot for being with Gavin. And the way she told me about our inability to procreate was pretty heartless.”
Brandon hadn’t been with the pack when all of that occurred. He had left and arranged for a small pack of Rakshasa to kidnap Gavin, so that Brandon could kill him, as revenge for killing his mother. Gavin had escaped–thanks to Sydney–and then Sydney ended up capturing Brandon without telling Gavin. She’d assigned two inexperienced shifters to watch over him, and he’d been biding his time before making his escape.
Unfortunately, the Rakshasa caught up with them first. They had assumed Brandon wouldn’t make good on his promise of payment for services rendered, since Gavin had escaped, and they hadn’t believe him when he insisted he planned to pay anyway.
One of his two captors had been killed before he and the other one could escape. By the time he had a change of heart and rushed back to the pack to warn them of impending danger, Prim had already dropped her little bombshell, shattering Sydney and Gavin’s world and sending the Chala rushing out into the woods alone. Luckily, Brandon found her before the Rakshasa had. Otherwise, they probably wouldn’t have a Chala to defend against an un-cursed Gavin right now.
Brandon eyed the Fate sitting at the kitchen table and decided that Fates weren’t worth their weight in copper, let alone gold. It seemed to him they had a terrible tendency to cause their Chalas’ destructions themselves. They barely needed the Rakshasa to do the job.
“Because Prim is the only one who knows how to curse Gavin again,” he said flatly, answering Sydney’s question. Might as well put it out there and get it over with. He had no doubt Sydney would become emotional, and he had a strong urge to get the hell out of town. Fast. Best to just get it over with so they could move forward.
Sydney’s mouth flapped wordlessly as she worked to absorb what he said. Her head swiveled back and forth between Brandon standing nearby and Killian sitting sullenly at the kitchen table. Brandon was grim and determined. Killian looked contrite. Suddenly, Sydney leaped across the short distance, grabbed Killian by the neck, and lifted him out of his chair, shoving him back against the wall. Once again, his face turned colors and his eyes bugged out of his head. Brandon was impressed despite himself.
“You lifted the curse? You lifted the curse? You idiot! Have you completely taken leave of your senses? Do you have any earthly idea what you’ve done? I thought you were a Fate! I thought your job was to protect the Chala! You’ve just given me a death sentence, you worthless piece of shit!”
She continued her rant, glaring at Killian the entire time, while Brandon looked on in admiration. He’d expected tears and desolation. Her anger was a pleasant surprise. Finally, reluctantly, because he felt Killian deserved everything she was giving him at the moment–Brandon put his hand on her arm and tugged it away from the Fate’s throat. Once again, Killian dropped like a stone. This time, no one bothered to help him to his feet.
“We have to get out of here, Sydney. The curse wasn’t fully lifted when he left, but there’s no telling how quickly it will happen. And the moment it does, we both know he will turn right back around and come after you.”
Sydney glared at Killian for several more seconds, before forcing herself into action. “I suppose he has to go with us?”
“Yeah. Unless you or William knows where Prim is holed up.”
Sydney looked up at the ceiling, above which the bedrooms were housed. “I’m not sure if William knows.” She focused her attention on Killian. “Where is she? How do we get to her?”
Killian hesitated, but whe
n Sydney took a menacing step toward him, he blanched. “She–She lives on an island. In the ocean. Near the equator. We have to fly, and then take a boat. And she doesn’t like visitors. Especially shifters,” he added with a glare for Brandon.
“Too fucking bad,” Brandon said. “I’m not letting Sydney out of my sight until Gavin’s curse has been restored.”
Chapter 4
Prim met them on the dock. Killian had sent word, warning her of impending company. She’d immediately taken the necessary precautions, instructing her staff, securing the island, and primping as if she were about to meet the king–any king. That last bit had been for purely selfish reasons. She wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea of having company at the moment, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t look her best when they arrived. Every girl had her standards. Prim’s were damn high.
Killian had been vague about the nature of the visit, leaving Prim to speculate about all sorts of things. The message she’d received had been simple and straightforward:
William and I are coming for a visit. Bringing the Chala. Should be there within 24 hours.
If Sydney were coming, did that mean they were bringing her Rakshasa lover, too? Prim wasn’t thrilled about that aspect. A Rakshasa had never stepped foot on her island before. For that matter, no shifter had ever stepped foot on her island.
The curse has held for two hundred years, she reminded herself as she smoothed the front of her hot pink halter dress. No one was in danger here. Still, she couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. Why are they coming? What if the curse doesn’t hold?
She watched from behind the protection of her oversized sunglasses as Gaya maneuvered the boat expertly up to the dock. She’d allowed Gaya to retrieve them because she knew the brownie would be ecstatic to have her bedmate back so soon. She’d been a regular bitch since Killian left a few days ago, and Prim had been ready to toss her into the ocean. The moment she found out they were having visitors, Gaya had immediately swept into a cleaning frenzy and begged to take the boat over to the neighboring island to retrieve them. Prim hadn’t been able to say no.