Turn to Darkness (Offspring 5.6)

by Jaime Rush

  Turn to Darkness

  A NOVELLA

  JAIME RUSH

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  An Excerpt from Darkness Becomes Her

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  About the Author

  By Jaime Rush

  An Excerpt from Mating Season by Alice Gaines

  Chapter One

  An Excerpt from Nine Lives of an Urban Panther by Amanda Arista

  Chapter One

  An Excerpt from Last Vamp Standing by Kristin Miller

  Prologue

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  WHEN SHEA BAKER pulled into her driveway, the sight of Darius’s black coupe in front of her little rented house annoyed her. That it wasn’t Greer’s Jeep, and that she was disappointed it wasn’t, annoyed the hell out of her.

  Darius pulled out his partially dismantled wheelchair from inside the car and put it together within a few seconds. His slide from the driver’s seat into his wheelchair was so practiced it was almost fluid. He waved, oblivious to her frown, and wheeled over to her truck. “As pale as you looked after hearing what Tucker, Del, and I went through, I thought you’d go right home.” He wore his dark blond hair in a James Dean style, his waves gelled to stand up.

  She had been freaked. Two men trying to kill them, men who would kill them all if they knew about their existence. She yanked her baseball cap lower on her head, a nervous habit. “I had a couple of jobs to check on. What brings you by?” She hoped it was something quick he could tell her right there and leave.

  “Tucker kicked me out. I think he feels threatened by me, because I had to take charge. I saved the day, and he won’t even admit it.”

  None of the guys were comfortable with Darius. His mercurial mood shifts and oversized ego were irritating, but the shadows in his eyes hinted at an affinity for violence. In the two years he’d lived with them, though, he’d mostly kept to himself. She’d had no problem with him because he remained aloof, never revealing his emotions, even when he talked about the car accident that had taken his mobility. Unfortunately, when he thought she was reaching out to him, that aloofness had changed to romantic interest.

  “Sounded like you went off the rails.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Look, if you’re here to get me on your side, I won’t—”

  “I’d never ask you to do that.” His upper lip lifted in a sneer. “I know you’re loyal only to Tucker.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her body stiffening. “Tuck’s like a big brother to me. He gave me a home when I was on the streets, told me why I have extraordinary powers.” That she’d inherited DNA from another dimension was crazy-wild, but it made as much sense as, say, being able to move objects with her mind. “I’d take his side over anyone’s.”

  “Wish someone would feel that kind of loyalty to me,” Darius muttered under his breath, making her wonder if he was trying to elicit her sympathy. “I get that you’re brotherly/sisterly.” He let those words settle for a second. “But something happened with you and Greer, didn’t it? What did he do, grope you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Greer would never do something like that.”

  “Something happened, because all of a sudden the way you looked at each other changed. Like he was way interested in you, and you were way uncomfortable around him. Then you sat all close to me, and I know you felt the same electricity I did.”

  She shook her head, sending her curly ponytail swinging over her shoulder. “There was no electricity. Greer and I had a . . . disagreement. I needed to put some space between us, but when you live in a house with four other people, there isn’t a lot of room. When I sat next to you, I was just moving away from him.”

  Darius’s shoulders, wide and muscular, stiffened. “You might think that, Shea. You might even believe it. But someday you’re going to realize you want me. And when you do, I want you to know I can satisfy you. When I’m in Darkness, I’m a whole man.” That dark glint in his eyes hinted at his arrogance. “I’m capable of anything.”

  Those words shivered through her, but not in the way he’d intended. In that moment, she knew somehow that he was capable of anything. Darius might be confined to a wheelchair, but only a fool would underestimate him, and she was no fool. Especially where Darkness was concerned. The guys possessed it, yet didn’t know exactly what it was. All they knew was that they’d probably inherited it, along with the DNA that gave them extraordinary powers, from the men who’d gotten their mothers pregnant. It allowed them to Become something far from human.

  “Please, Darius, don’t talk to me about that kind of thing. I’m not interested in having sex with anyone.”

  The corner of his mouth twisted cruelly. “Don’t you like sex? Maybe you’ve never been with someone who could do it well.”

  For a long time the thought of sex had coated her in shame and disgust. Until that little incident with Greer, when she’d had a totally different—and surprising—reaction.

  “Look, I’m sorry Tuck kicked you out, but I don’t have a guest bedroom.”

  “I’ll sleep on the couch. You won’t even know I’m here.” His face transformed from darkly sexual to a happy little boy’s. “I don’t have any other place to stay,” he added, building his case. “You just said how grateful you are to Tuck for taking you in. I’m only asking for the same thing.”

  Damn, he had her. As much as she wanted to squash her feelings, some things did reach right under her shields. And some people . . . like Greer. Now, Darius’s manipulation did. “All right,” she spat out, feeling pinned.

  Her phone rang from where she’d left it inside her truck.

  “Thanks, Shea,” Darius said, wheeling to his car and popping the trunk. “You’re a doll.”

  She got into her truck, grabbing up the phone and eyeing the screen. Greer. She’d been trying to avoid him since moving out three months before. But with the weirdness going on lately, she needed to stay in the loop.

  “Hey,” she answered. “What’s up?”

  “Tuck and Darius had it out a while ago. Darius has this idea about being the alpha male, which is just stupid, and Tuck kicked him out. I wanted to let you know in case he shows up on your doorstep pulling his ‘poor me’ act.”

  “Too late,” she said in a singsong voice. “Act pulled—very well, I might add. He’s staying for a few days.”

  “Bad idea.” Always the protective one. He made no apologies for it either.

  She watched Darius lift his suitcase onto his lap and wheel toward the ramp he’d installed for wheelchair access to her front door. “Well, what was I supposed to do, turn him away? I don’t like it either.”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “There’s no need . . .” She looked at the screen, blinking to indicate he’d ended the call. “ . . . to come over,” she finished anyway.

  She got out, feeling like her feet weighed fifty pounds each, and trudged to the door. All she wanted was to be alone, a quiet evening trimming her bonsai to clear her mind.

  There would be no mind-clearing tonight. There’d be friction between Greer and Darius, just like there had been before she’d moved out. Tuck had eased her into the reality of Darkness, he and Greer morphing into black beasts only after she’d accepted the idea. Tuck told her it also made them fiercely, and insanely, territorial abo
ut their so-called mates. She hadn’t thought twice about that until Darius and Greer both took a different kind of liking to her. She was afraid they’d tear each other’s throats out, and she wasn’t either of their mates.

  “Two days,” she said, unlocking her front door. “I like living on my own. Being alone.” Most of the time. It was strange, but she’d sit at her table in the mornings having coffee (not as strong as Greer’s killer brew) and be happy about being alone. Then she’d get hit with a wave of sadness about being alone.

  See how messed up you are.

  “You might like having me around,” he said. “If that guy who’s been creeping around makes an appearance, I’ll kick his ass.”

  “Well, he’s too much of a coward to knock on the door.” She didn’t want to think about her stalker. He hadn’t left any of his icky letters or “gifts” in a few days.

  She figured out where Darius could stash his suitcases and was hunting down extra sheets and a blanket when the doorbell rang. Before she could even set the extra pillow down to answer, she heard Darius’s voice: “Well, look who’s here. What a nice surprise.”

  Not by the tone in his voice. Damn, this was so not cool having them both here. They’d been like snarling dogs the day everyone had helped her move in here. She hadn’t had them over since.

  She walked out holding the pillow to her chest like a shield. Greer’s eyes went right to her, giving her a clear Is everything all right? look.

  She wasn’t in danger. That was as far as she’d commit.

  Greer closed the door and sauntered in, as though he always stopped by. “Thought I’d check in on you. After what happened, figured you might be on edge.” There he went again, sinking her into the depths of his eyes. They were rimmed in gray, brown in the middle, the most unusual eyes she’d ever seen. And they were assessing her.

  “She’s fine,” Darius answered as she opened her mouth. “I’m staying here for a couple of days, which will work out nicely . . . in case she’s on edge.” His unspoken So you can go now was clear.

  Greer moved closer to her, putting himself physically between her and Darius. He was a damned wall of a man, too, way tall, wide shoulders, and just big. He purposely blocked Darius’s view of her.

  She’d done this, sparked them into hostile territory. Which was laughable, considering what she looked like: baggy pants and shirt, cap over her head, no makeup. She’d done everything she could for the last six years to squash every bit of her femininity. Her sexuality. Then Greer had blown that to bits.

  He hadn’t knocked, just barged into the bathroom, a towel loosely held in front of his naked body. She was drying her hair and suddenly he was standing there gaping at her.

  “Jesus, Shea, you’re beautiful,” he’d said, obviously in shock.

  She couldn’t move, spellbound herself, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t interested in anyone sexually. But there stood six feet four of olive-skinned Apache with muscled thighs and a scant bit of towel covering him. And the way he’d said those words, with his typical passion, and his looking at her like she was beautiful and he wanted her, woke up something inside her.

  Breaking out of the spell and wrapping her towel around her, she’d yelled at him for barging in, stepping up close to him and jabbing her finger at his chest.

  And what had he done? Lifted her damp hair from her shoulders, hair she never left loose, his fingers brushing her bare shoulders. “Why do you hide yourself from us?” he’d asked.

  “Don’t say anything about this to anyone.” Would he tell them how oversized her breasts were? Would they wonder why she hid her curves, talking behind her back, speculating? “Leave. Now.”

  He’d shrugged, his dark brown eyebrows furrowing. “No need to get mad or freaked out. It was an accident. We’re friends.”

  He left, finally, and she looked in the steamy reflection. She didn’t see beautiful. But she did see hunger, and even worse, felt it.

  “How’s your big job coming?” Greer asked now, pulling her out of the memory. He was leaning against the back of the couch, which inadvertently flexed the muscles in his arms.

  He remembered, which touched her even if she didn’t want to be touched. Still, she found herself smiling. “Great. We’re putting the finishing touches now that the hard-scaping and most of the planting is finished. This is my biggest job yet. My business has kept me sane through all this. Gotta keep working on the customer’s jobs.” She glanced to the window. If the sun weren’t going to be setting soon, she’d come up with some job she had to zip off to right then.

  Dammit, she missed Greer. Hated having to shut him out. Now, things were odd between them. He looked at her differently, heat in his eyes, and hurt, too, because he didn’t understand why she’d pushed him away. Like he’d said, it was an accident that he’d walked in on her.

  “Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked, not sure whether having them both there would be better than being alone with Darius.

  Greer glanced at his watch. “Wish I could. My shift starts in an hour.”

  Darius wheeled up. “Yeah, the big bad firefighter, off to save lives.” He made a superhero arm motion, pumping one fist in the air.

  Greer’s mouth twisted in a snarl. “I’d rather do that than tinker with computer parts all day.”

  “Boys,” she said, sounding like a teacher.

  Another knock on the door. Hopefully it was Tucker. He was good at stepping in. But it wasn’t Tucker. Two men stood there, their badges at the ready. “Cheyenne Baker?” one of them asked.

  She nodded, feeling Greer step up behind her.

  “Detective Dan Marshall, and Detective Paul Marron. May we come in?”

  “What’s this about?” Greer asked before she could say anything.

  “We have some questions about a recent incident.” The man, in his forties, waited patiently for someone to invite them inside.

  Greer inspected the badge, nodded to her. It was legit.

  Shea checked it, too, then stepped back, bumping into Greer. “These are friends of mine,” she said, waving to Greer and Darius.

  Marshall closed the door behind them, taking in both men as though noting their appearance. He focused on her. “You’ve heard about the man who was mauled two nights ago?”

  Her mouth went dry. How had they connected that to her? Bad enough that it triggered two men from the other dimension to hunt down their offspring. “Yes, it sounded horrible.” She shuddered, and didn’t have to fake it. “Wild animals attacking people in their own home.”

  “We don’t think it was a wild animal. Do you know Fred Callahan, the victim?”

  “No, I—” Her words jammed in her throat when she saw the picture he held up, a driver’s license photo probably. All the blood drained from her face. “I knew him as Frankie C.” She cleared the fuzz from her voice. “I haven’t seen him for six years.” She wanted the cops to go, or for Greer and Darius to leave. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

  Marshall’s eyes flicked to Greer and Darius before returning to her. “We found pictures and notes about you on his computer. There was a letter in his desk drawer addressed to you, indicating he’d written to you before. It wasn’t a very nice letter.”

  Her knees went weak. Greer somehow sensed it and clamped his hands on her shoulders. “What are you insinuating?” His hands started warming her, one of his psychic abilities.

  Darius wheeled closer. “You can’t possibly think this slip of a girl could tear a man apart.”

  “I’ve been getting letters, creepy gifts,” she said. “But I didn’t know who they were from.” Frankie. She had wondered, yes, but how had he found her? And why after all these years?

  “May I see them?” Marshall asked.

  She’d wanted to throw them away, but thought they might be evidence if things escalated. She went to the file cabinet in her office and returned with the letters, and the box.

  Marshall frowned when he opened it and saw the dildo, the flavored
lube creams. “Can I take these?”

  “Please.” And go. Say no more.

  He looked at Greer and Darius. “Did either of you know who was harassing her?”

  Darius snorted. “No, but I’m glad the sick fu—the guy is dead. It’s wrong to harass a woman like that.”

  Greer shook his head, but his gaze was on her.

  Marshall turned to her again. “Callahan worked at the phone company. That’s probably how he found you. You haven’t heard from him at all in the six years since you filed charges against him and the other two men?”

  “No, nothing,” she said quickly. “I’d rather not—”

  “I’m sure the detective you spoke to talked you out of going forward with the charges. I read the file and agree that it was a long shot to prosecute the case successfully. Still, I wish we had. One of those other men raped a teenaged girl a couple of years back. He’s in prison now. The other’s been jailed a few times on battery charges.”

  She felt Greer’s questioning stare on her. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Her words sounded shaky. Leave, dammit.

  Marshall glanced in the box, then her. “But Callahan hasn’t had another brush with the law. We did find some rather disturbing items in his home, including sex toys I presume he intended to send to you. One was a pair of handcuffs, and they weren’t the fuzzy kind. It’s the sort of thing that makes me uncomfortable about where he was going with this. So if you”—he looked at her friends—“or anyone had something to do with his death, it may have saved your life. But still, we have to investigate. It’s a crime to tear a man apart, no matter how much of a scumbag he is.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Greer said. His hands tightened on her as she slumped against the couch, and then he pulled her against his body, his arms like a shield over her collarbone.

  Oh, God. Had Frankie been planning to rape her again? That overshadowed anything else in her mind at the moment.

  Marshall seemed to be giving them time to fess up.

  “We didn’t know who the guy sending that stuff was,” Shea said. “You can see from the letters that he never signed them.” They’d been crude letters, detailing what he wanted to do to her body, and she’d forced herself to read them because she needed to know how much he knew about her. Or if they contained an explicit threat.