Turn to Darkness (Offspring 5.6)

by Jaime Rush

  He spotted the same truck he’d seen outside of Cheyenne’s house parked at a home down the road. Ah hah, just as he suspected. As he approached, he heard a car engine start. Then another, and finally a third. A Jeep pulled out of the driveway, then the white truck, and finally a third vehicle, the black coupe that was at the house this morning.

  He’d hit the mother lode. All three of them, together. Though what he needed was to attack each one alone. First the guys. Then the girl would be easy.

  He jumped into his vehicle and followed. They traveled through town, stopping at a Wal-Mart for several minutes. Not a good place to try to take them out. He had to play it cool, be patient. After another twenty minutes of driving, they all pulled into the parking lot of a small motel. He passed it by in case they had noticed him.

  His progeny watched the vehicle go past. It figured, the kid got his smarts. He took after his mother in looks but inherited his own stature. Graves had obviously suffered a weakness about eliminating his offspring. Frost had no such doubts.

  They checked in, carrying their bags of recent purchases, and went to their respective rooms. So they weren’t going back to the house.

  Frost sat in his car in a parking lot adjacent to the motel. He knew he could not screw this up now that he was on the cusp of being Torus’s hero. A short time later they each emerged and went together to a barbecue restaurant down the road. He went in, too, sitting at the bar and keeping an eye on them.

  They looked tense, his offspring sitting on the same side of the table as the girl, the scowling one in the wheelchair across from her. Frost ate a burger and had a beer, wishing he could get closer so he could hear them. He’d have to be sitting at their table to hear their conversation, since they leaned close and talked in low tones. Couldn’t discuss how to get rid of the big bad guy from the other dimension where others could hear, after all.

  He followed them back to the motel a couple of hours later, where they bid each other good-night. Patience was paying off. He would wait until they had time to go to sleep. Then, like smoke, he would drift in . . .

  SHEA TOSSED AND turned on the hard bed for some time after turning off the television. As exhausted as she was, she couldn’t believe that sleep didn’t claim her easily.

  That’s because you’re thinking about the man who’s trying to kill you . . . and the man who’s trying to love you.

  Thankfully, it was Greer who slipped into her dreams, but dreams of kissing him didn’t exactly help. They stood in the yard, but instead of her backing away, she leaned into him, running her hands over his body. He brushed her hair back from her face, trailed his fingers down her sides. She moved his hand down her stomach, sliding over the thin material of her sleep shirt.

  She murmured his name, and his mouth came down on hers, smashing her lips. His hand slid over her hips, fingers gripping her.

  Greer wouldn’t touch her like that. Even in the dream it seemed wrong. Except . . . it wasn’t a dream. She felt fingers digging into her skin, the mouth and breath pulsing across her cheek as his tongue prodded at her lips.

  Her eyes flew open and she saw the vague shape of a man’s face. She opened her mouth to scream, and his hand, cool and smooth, pressed down over it, stifling the sound.

  “It’s me, Darius,” he whispered.

  She shoved him back, pushing to the back of the bed. “Is that supposed to comfort me? What in the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Shea? You all right?” Greer’s voice on the other side of the door.

  Darius shook his head. “Just tell him you’re fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She sent a pillow flying at him. “Then why did you sneak in here?” She turned to call out to Greer before he broke the door in. “No one’s trying to kill me.” But she damn well wasn’t fine. She started to scramble off the bed toward the door.

  Darius clamped onto her wrist, jerking her back. “Don’t. I just wanted to talk to you alone, and you were obviously having an, uh, interesting dream. I couldn’t resist.”

  She pulled away and stomped to the door, opening it and feeling all kinds of relief at seeing Greer there. She pointed to Darius, who had morphed back to human. “He sneaked in. I can handle it, but—”

  Greer shot inside, shoving Darius right off the bed to the floor. “What the hell did I tell you?” he screamed.

  Shea closed the door and ran toward them, now tussling on the floor. She grabbed Greer’s waistband, because he wore no shirt, as he threw another punch at Darius, who was turning smoky. “Stop. Let me kick his ass.”

  Greer allowed her to pull him back, but he was jabbing his finger toward Darius. “You son of a bitch. You don’t sneak into a woman’s room.”

  Darius held onto his human form, though he was now stuck on the floor. “Get your finger out of my face.”

  Shea turned to Greer. “What did you tell him? You knew he was going to sneak in here?”

  Greer smoothed down his pants. “Of course not. He—”

  “I was just getting more assertive, because that’s what you need,” Darius said, his words prickling through her. “You’re shy and insecure, so I figured I’m come in here and”—he snapped the collar of his shirt—“step things up.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Greer said.

  Darius laughed. “Well, you’re not making progress.” He flicked his head to the bed. “I didn’t see you in here with her.”

  She felt Greer’s body lean forward. Her fingers, still on his waistband, tugged him back. She faced Darius. “I’m not insecure. Or shy. I was raped.” The words dropped like heavy weights. She rarely said them, but now they somehow empowered her, as Greer had said earlier. “I was raped by three men. One was the man you killed. So I don’t like the aggressive approach. You sneaking in like that, violating my privacy, was someone trying to rape me all over again.”

  She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself. She still hadn’t let go of the back of Greer’s waistband. Gripping it, the backs of her fingers grazing his skin, gave her strength. “The last thing I’m going to find sexy is someone sneaking into my space and touching me while I sleep, you freakin’ creep. That goes for women who haven’t been raped, too.”

  Darius’s face had gone pale. He looked at Greer. “You knew this?”

  “Yeah, and you would have, too, when the cop came to question us, if you’d been paying attention.”

  Darius’s voice softened. “That’s what you two have been talking about?”

  “Some,” she said. “And I sure as hell don’t want to talk about it now. But don’t you ever grab me, touch me, or sneak in like that again. Better yet, leave. Now.”

  “I can take care of the other two guys. Okay, I lost my head with the first guy, when I saw the stuff he had. The letters he’d sent. The others—”

  “Go,” she said again. “Showing that you care isn’t about killing people. Or shoving yourself at them.” It was about being tender, like Greer had been. Not pushing her even though he wanted her. Mostly he wanted her to be all right.

  Darius morphed back to Darkness, pausing in front of Shea. “You need a man who can commit to you, who doesn’t go through women like he does towels. I haven’t been with anyone in all that time. You’re the only woman I’ve been around, really. I’ve waited for you to wake up and see me. And you did, because this son of a bitch did something to you.”

  Greer started to say something, but she put her hand out to stop him. My argument. “He walked in on me in the bathroom. By accident. That’s all he did.” She was uncomfortable with the fact that Darius had been interested in her all that time. God, she hadn’t even noticed, she’d been so wrapped up in her own life and inner misery.

  “Don’t tell me that’s the only thing that put you on edge,” Darius said. “There were some heavy feelings, and not good ones, directed at him. You sat down next to me. Whether you want to admit it or not, you came to me for a reason. Now I can see why you pushed me away, why you moved ou
t. I’m sorry I didn’t get that part of the conversation. I was thinking about what kind of evidence I might have left, but remember, Shea, I did it for you.” He flicked an angry glare at Greer, who was only inches away. “I wish you hadn’t told him.” He focused on her again with his black eyes. “I killed that man to protect you, and I’ll do it again. I’m not the tender kind of guy. I get things done.” That he directed at Greer.

  Then he turned to smoke and slid beneath the door.

  DARIUS MORPHED BACK to man in his room. Damn Greer. Always playing the hero, when he was the one who had done the dirty work. Had she looked at him with relief and gratitude in her eyes? Hell, no.

  The only explanation was that Greer had some supernatural talent to sway women. To make them fall into his bed. That would explain why he seemed to have so many, because despite Darius’s earlier words, just being good-looking and a firefighter wasn’t going to do it.

  Yeah, that’s what it was, as he had suspected before: Greer put them under his spell. Now Shea was his victim. Hell, hadn’t she been whispering Greer’s name in her sleep before he silenced her?

  Darius had known Greer was a threat on a deep, instinctual level. It’s why he’d set the fire that morning, why he felt so compelled to take him out.

  Greer was stronger than he’d assumed. More clever, too. That they were being hunted by the enemy was a perfect cover. Greer would die and the D’Rats—Tucker’s nickname for their group—would be none the wiser. Once Greer was out of the picture, Shea would be free of his spell, and then he would be free of Greer, too, with his strong, able body.

  But he would not be breaking Shea’s heart, not be tossing her aside once he’d won her into his bed. Something very bad was going to happen to their hero. And something very Darius was going to happen to Shea.

  Chapter Eight

  SHEA SHIVERED AS she watched the smoke that was Darius slide beneath the door, thinking how easy it was for him to come in anytime he wanted. Like . . . that time in the shower when she’d felt someone there.

  “You all right?” Greer asked, watching her.

  She didn’t dare share her suspicions. “It just creeps me out.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea he’d pull something like this.”

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

  He was still shaking his head. “The guy’s such a . . . beyond a bonehead. I should have—”

  She put her hands on his chest. “It wasn’t your responsibility. I’m not your responsibility.” She hadn’t thought about having her hands on his bare skin until she touched him.

  “I know.” He took one of those stray strands of her hair and twirled it around his finger like she usually did. “I can’t help it; I have a need to protect you. Maybe because you’re so much smaller than me. Especially now that I know what happened to you. I’m not going to apologize for that. It’s my nature.”

  “No, I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s one of the things I . . . like about you.” She stared at her fingers splayed against his chest, light skin against olive. She felt herself weaken, as she had in the yard.

  Or become stronger.

  She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I feel safe with you.”

  He touched her cheek. “That’s a start. I want you to feel more than that, but like I said, we can work through that. I’m a patient man.”

  Yeah, he was way too good for her.

  She started to turn her face away from his touch, but as usual he wouldn’t let her. “What do you feel when I touch you? Fear?”

  “No.” She shook her head, almost laughing at the notion. The smile quickly faded. “Well, not fear that you’ll hurt me. That if you knew me, you wouldn’t want to touch me.”

  “What would change my mind about you? What would make me not want you?”

  She did shift her gaze away, though he still held her chin.

  “You think that whatever it is, I’m going to be disgusted and go away, right? Isn’t that what you want? So what do you have to lose?”

  He had her. Would he say the same accusing things her mother had said, look at her the same way?

  She let her hands drop but again resisted the urge to cross her arms in front of her. Yes, let him know so he’d back away and she wouldn’t have to be so conflicted. “I never had a father figure in my life. All I knew was my mom had an affair with a married man, and he left her before I was born. A mostly bitter woman, she worked all the time trying to make ends meet. I was bored, lonely. When I was fifteen, I started looking for company. I wanted love, and I thought sex was love. Or I was led to by the first—the only—guy I was ever with. Frankie said he loved me, treated me with what I thought was love. I know now it was only lust.”

  She gestured to her breasts. “I was overdeveloped for my age and frame, and I dressed, well, pretty sexy.” If she was going to be honest, she should use the word her mother used. “I dressed like a slut, okay. I needed attention.” She laughed. “I know, hard to believe. Frankie was in love with my boobs for sure. He loved a part of me, so I gave him whatever he wanted. He wanted me. After a while, though, I realized I didn’t feel good about myself. I guess the sex felt good, but I started drifting away from him. That last time . . .”

  He slid his hand down her arm, sliding his fingers between hers. Giving her encouragement.

  “We had sex as usual, and I realized how empty I felt. I knew I had to end things. I started to tell him, but two of his friends stopped by his apartment. They sat around getting high, and I was really stupid. I got high, too. I’d never done it before, but I felt so lost and conflicted and thought it would help. I knew I had to end it but I didn’t want to be alone.”

  “No one wants to be alone, Shea.”

  “But I sold myself out just to have someone who I thought loved me. And then they started doing these pills, I don’t even know what kind of drug it was. I didn’t do that. Afterward, I went home and told my mom what happened. She didn’t believe it was rape. She thought I’d just gotten myself into a ‘lurid situation.’ ” Shea crooked her fingers in quotes. “That’s what she said. She did take me to the police station, but that’s what the officer thought, too.” Tears blurred her vision. She would not look away from Greer, would face his disgust or the evidence that he believed the same thing she did. “By the way I was dressed, I couldn’t really blame him. Or my mom.” But she had anyway.

  He rubbed away a tear that dared stray down her cheek. “Shea, we all want love. We want a connection, and yeah, sometimes we do things we shouldn’t to get it. But if you think I’m going to shun you, you’re wrong.” He left his thumb there to stroke her skin. “Why do you think I bring those women to my bedroom? I can’t even let myself care about any of them, but I use them because I need that connection. And so do they. I don’t feel good about it either, not on a soul level, so I know exactly how you feel. Forgive yourself for being human.”

  He really didn’t see her as some kind of slut, or damaged, or anything. She opened her mouth to say something, not even sure what would come out. Instead, she put her hands to his face and brought his mouth down to hers.

  He made a sound deep in his throat, joining her kiss instantly. She felt something inside her unfurl like a rose that had been in a tight bud for years. His hands went to her face, and then he tunneled his fingers into her hair. Just that felt heavenly, as the tips of his fingers rubbed her scalp. She slid her hands around his waist, rubbing up and down his bare back, down the indent of his spine.

  She’d never felt this way with Frankie, knowing she was safe and cherished, and yet feeling hunger clawing through her. She drew her nails down his skin, letting him know that she wanted to take this to the next level. Her body pressed against his, and oh, yeah, he knew.

  He made that little sound again, a growl like his panther was waking up. He finished the kiss, cupping her face and looking into her eyes. “Shea, we’re going down a path here that I’m not sure you’re ready for.”

  She steppe
d back and pulled off the big T-shirt. “I am. For you, I am.”

  He released a long breath, desire heating his eyes as he took her in. “You are gorgeous, Shea.”

  She warmed under his compliment, given from genuine appreciation. From someone who cared about her. “So are you.”

  He was so perfect, strong but not overly muscular in that phony way bodybuilders were. He wore only jeans, and he still smelled faintly of smoke and soap. He smiled at her words, as though he hadn’t heard them a million times.

  “Shea, you have to know something. If we do this, I’m going to feel that you’re mine. I have never felt that way about a woman before, but I already feel it for you.” He fisted his big hand. “It’s a fierceness, a knowing that I will do anything in my power to protect you. From what Tuck told me, it’s hard to pull that back. Making love seals the deal.”

  “He said he went crazy on that guy who grabbed Del. It scared him.”

  “Yeah, it did. And I can feel that, how I could lose control in that kind of situation, because I wanted to kill Darius just now. You’re not even mine, and I could have killed the son of a bitch. That’s how it’s going to be. You know what I am. What I become.”

  “A beautiful supernatural creature. I’m okay with that.”

  His body relaxed the slightest bit, as though he inwardly sighed in relief. She wanted to be his. She couldn’t quite push out those words. One step at a time.

  He placed his hand on her collarbone, his fingers flexing slightly against her skin. “I’m going to let you direct everything. You move my hands wherever you want them. You’re in control. Take it as far as you want.”

  Her breath hitched at his surrender. She still didn’t feel she deserved him, but she was going to take what he offered anyway. She placed her hand over his, sliding her fingers between his. His heat sank into her chest, filling her heart with a warmth she hadn’t felt for so long.