by Lynne, Donya
"You slept with him? Lakota, I mean?" Trevor spoke quietly, breaking her from her painful thoughts.
She nodded and winced, wiping the back of her hand under her nose as tears stung the backs of her eyes. "Yes. I slept with Sev's father. I made him think I was available. I made him think I was in it for him." She paused and frowned. "And then I almost killed his son."
Trevor changed seats so he was sitting next to her. "But you didn't kill him, Gina. He lived."
"No thanks to me." She sat forward and cursed. "Damn it, Trevor, I've never been that careless, but I was so hell-bent on my own revenge and my own selfishness I took shortcuts. I ignored the voice in my head that said something wasn't adding up. And an innocent male almost died because of it, his only crime being that he had loved my brother and had wanted to save him. That's why he showed up at that raid the night Gabe died. He'd gone there to try and protect him. But like me, he was too late. Gabe was already dead. And here I'd thought he was there to finish him off." She dropped her face into her free hand. "I'm such an idiot."
Trevor touched her arm. "You're not an idiot."
"Well, I'm reckless then, which is even worse."
"Quit beating yourself up, Gina. You're better than that, and we both know it. You're a badass bitch who had a bad day. We all have them sooner or later. We just need to figure things out. That's all."
She shot him a dubious look.
The two sat in silence for a minute as Gina pulled herself back together. Finally, she took a deep breath and brushed her blunt-cut bangs out of her eyes as she straightened. "After nearly killing Severin, I wanted to die, Trevor. The guilt alone nearly killed me."
His dark eyes softened when she glanced at him, and he caressed her arm, trying to comfort her.
"I was locked up in that cell for days, tormented by guilt. All I could see was the bullet tearing into Sev's chest, like the memory was on a looped recording, replaying in my mind over and over and over." She circled her finger in the air several times. "But Malek was there. He guarded me and watched over me." Her eyebrows scrunched together briefly. "While he was there, I felt…okay." His presence had made her feel safe, secure, even comforted. "I thought at first that he had been assigned to guard me, but when he made that statement about being my mate, it became clear that he had chosen to be there. He wanted to be there. He was so nice to me." She grinned reflectively, thinking back on the gentle male who had stayed by her side and calmed her mind.
Another time, another place, and she would already be his. He was worthy, and she liked him. Since leaving Chicago, she had often thought about Malek in ways she shouldn't have, but never for long. She couldn't let herself go down that path, because no matter how nice he had been, or how attracted she was to him, she couldn't trust herself with any male ever again. He could turn in a blink and hurt her. Just like Armand had.
The corners of Trevor's mouth lifted knowingly. "He sounds really nice."
Gina narrowed her eyes. "Don't give me that look. You know how I feel."
Trevor nodded, and his eyes narrowed back at her, as if he could see right through her. "Yes, I do. And I know why. But you like Malek. I can tell. And that scares you, doesn't it?"
She scoffed. "Why would I be scared?"
"Why indeed?" He eyed her and she felt her face heat. "Remember, I know how Armand abused you, Gina, and what that abuse did to you. You can't hide from me. And you can't hide from yourself, either. Not forever. Maybe that's what all this is about."
She broke her gaze from his and looked down. Guilty.
Trevor's voice dropped and softened. "Gina, you don't need to be afraid of falling in love again. I think it's silly that you keep yourself guarded like you're in prison because that asshole did what he did to you. The only thing you're guilty of is having an innocent heart and being played by the Fates. It wasn't your fault that a half-Dacian turned out to be your mate, or that he was such an evil bastard. But you got out. You freed yourself, Gina. Don't forget that. You were strong enough to get yourself out of a bad situation before it killed you. Not all mates are good mates, doll, but none are as bad as Armand. He was the exception, not the rule, all because of his Dacian blood. You know the Dacians are bastards. You know that the other vampire clans don't treat their mates the way Dacians do.
"Don't let that bastard inflict you with a lifelong sentence that prevents you from ever loving again. So help me God, if I wasn't gay, I'd show you just how wonderful love could be, Gina. You deserve it more than anyone I know. Any male worth his name and the parents who birthed him would be honored to have such a female as you as his mate. If Malek has chosen you, then he's chosen well. And if you like him, maybe you need to think about giving him a chance, because I'd bet every cent I own that he would be the kind of mate that you deserve. The kind of mate Armand never was but should have been."
By the time Trevor finished, Gina was fighting tears again. She wasn't usually this emotional, but lately, with the panic attacks, the guilt, the nightmares, the lack of sleep, the bad memories of what Armand had done to her, as well as her frayed nerves over Malek, she was an emotional mess.
Trevor was right. She wasn't the same person she had been two years ago. She wasn't even the same person she had been two months ago. She was used to being in charge of herself and her environment. Calculated and sure of herself, full of confidence, able to make snap decisions in a single millisecond and shoot a fly between its multifaceted eyes at one hundred yards. Now she was lucky to hit the trash can from ten feet. And decisions? Forget it. She couldn't trust herself to decide between Coke and Pepsi right now, let alone a life with or without Malek.
All she knew was that Armand had left her with a case of post-traumatic stress disorder multiplied by a hundred. She hadn't even been with him a year, but what he had done to her had defined the rest of her life in the worst possible way. No wonder Malek's proclamation of being her mate had awakened anxiety attacks handed down by the devil himself, because it reminded her of what being mated the only other time in her life had been like. Who could blame her for being terrified of walking down that road again?
"I don't know, Trev. Maybe you're right, but…" She sighed, and her thoughts returned to Malek and how nice he had been to her. So handsome and sweet. Could she get over her fear to give him a chance, as Trevor suggested? She wasn't sure. "I just don't know. Even if I did, what could I offer him? Huh?" She absently slid her palm down her belly.
Trevor eased back with a sigh, his eyes sharp, yet compassionate. "You have plenty to offer him."
She scoffed. "Not what matters."
"How do you know what matters to Malek?"
"Because it's the same thing all males of our race want, Trev. It's what they yearn for during their calling. Their desire for young drives them."
Trevor tsked. "And yet I'm gay and will never mate with someone who can bear me a child."
Gina ricocheted backward in her seat. "That's different. And you can still have a child. There are ways. You can—"
Trevor held up his hand. "No, Gina. There will never be a way for me to have a child with the male I eventually mate, if I'm so blessed to take one. My mate will never be able to carry my child. His belly will never be able to grow with what I give him during my calling. And yet, I know that when I mate him, whoever he is…" He waved his hand in a wide arc as if casting a spell over the land for his mate to magically appear, "I know I will love him with all my heart and won't give a damn that he can't have my young. Just as Malek won't give a damn you can't have his. All that matters to a mated male is that his mate is with him. Do you understand?"
Gina huffed and drew in several tight breaths. "Yes but…I mean…" She held her hands out in front of her, palms up, as if they held the common sense she was trying to find to counter Trevor's words of wisdom. "But Trev, that's different. It's not the same—"
Trevor leaned forward and tapped his finger against the side of her head. "It is the same, Gina. It's only different in your head." He t
ap-tap-tapped her noggin again. "You make it different in your mind, just as you've convinced yourself you're not good enough and that what Armand did to you is proof that you have to stay unmated for the rest of your life. It's all in here, Gina." He cradled her head and curled the tips of his fingers into her hair. "It's all in your mind."
For a moment, they sat in silence, and then Trevor offered her a compassionate smile as he pulled his hand away and settled into his seat and crossed his legs. "Let me tell you a story."
She scowled. "I don't need a story—"
He held up a hand. "Just hear me out."
"Fine." She sat back and crossed her arms.
He leaned forward. "There's a footrace held in Colorado every year called the Leadville 100," he said.
Say what? Was he really going to tell her a story about a human footrace? Gina frowned curiously. "What does a race in Colorado have to do with me?"
He tilted his head and arched an eyebrow at her. "Just hush and listen."
"Fine." She adjusted her crossed arms and got comfortable.
"So, the Leadville 100 is a grueling one-hundred mile trail race over rocky terrain, steep inclines, and at altitudes where no sane human would dare to run." Trevor's face relaxed, his gaze thoughtful. "Runners come from all over to compete. Thrill seekers or just people who enjoy seeing how far they can push their bodies."
Gina nodded, willing him to get to the point. But Trevor told his story at his own pace, ignoring the impatient tap of her index finger on her arm.
"By the end of the race," he said, "nearly half the runners have dropped out from exposure, fatigue, injury, altitude sickness, what have you." He chuckled. "They say in Leadville that this is the one time each year that all the beds in the hotels and the hospital are full at the same time."
"I'll bet," Gina said, watching him. What was his point? Because he clearly had one.
Trevor smiled and swallowed his last gulp of beer. "Several years ago, this guy brought runners up from Mexico to run the race. They were called the running people or something like that, and they had never heard of the Leadville 100. These were people who lived in such remote places that there weren't even any roads to get to them." He eyed her. "These were people who had never competed in a race. Running was simply a way of life. They didn't know about strategy, training, or how to compete. And they weren't told about altitude sickness or how brutal the course was." Trevor uncrossed his legs, sat forward, and rested his elbows on his thighs. "Gina, these runners broke records, and they broke them because…well, they didn't know any better. No one told them they had to beat anybody or that they would fight the elements or run in darkness so pitch black they wouldn't be able to see a foot in front of them without a flashlight. These 'running people' had no preconceived notions about how to dress or what shoes to wear or that their feet would become bloody with blisters. They had no expectations. No one told them what to expect. They just knew they needed to run. And run they did."
Gina was beginning to understand where he was going with this.
"Point is, Gina, those who don't have any expectations about the race are the ones who do the best in it." Trevor reached over and tapped the tip of his index finger against Gina's temple again. "It's all in here, Gina. It's all in your head. You just need to run. That's all you need to do. Run and feel the wind on your face and your hair flying back." He skimmed his fingers through her hair then paused, took a deep breath, blew it out, and grinned with his whole face so that his breathtaking dimples creased his cheeks. "The folks who organize the Leadville Trail 100 and participate in it have a motto: You're tougher than you think you are. And you can do more than you think you can." Trevor cupped her cheek, leaned forward, and kissed her forehead. "You are tougher than you think you are, Gina. And you can do more than you think you can. Don't limit yourself because of the past or because you had one monumental asshole try to steal your thunder. Don't let Armand win by getting inside here." He tapped her head again. "Don't let him clip your wings, Gina."
She stared into his eyes and cherished the warmth of his hand as it caressed her face again, and she mulled over what he had just told her.
"You're a good friend," she said, cupping his face with her palm. "And I know Gabe is looking down smiling right now."
"I hope so." He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. "You two were my best friends, and now you're all I've got left. You're family to me, Gina. I want to see you happy, and it sounds like you really like this Malek guy, but that you're just scared to let yourself get close to him. I saw your eyes twinkle when you spoke about him. Maybe you should explore that when you return to Chicago. Throw caution to the wind. Take a chance." He paused and offered her an encouraging smile. "Run free without any expectations or preconceived notions. Just run…and see where things go."
She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Could she unlock her heart and let Malek in? If only she didn't have Armand hovering in her memory, the decision wouldn't be so hard. Even so, she wasn't sure she was good for any male, anymore. Her hand slid to her stomach once more. Ever since Armand, she had thought of herself as damaged goods. In a way, she blamed herself for Armand's abuse. Was it her fault? Had she done something wrong to deserve his foul treatment? She knew that was nonsense, but in the corners of her mind, she couldn't completely rid herself of the notion that she had brought Armand's wrath on herself.
Even if what had happened wasn't her fault—and she knew deep down it wasn't, and that her illogical thoughts to the contrary were just rubbish—what male would want a mate who couldn't birth him a son or daughter? The damage Armand had inflicted had left her as infertile and barren as a desert. Her womb was a brittle, drought-stricken wasteland. Not even her immortal vampire healing powers could fix the damage Armand had left inside her body. Even in vampires, some things were simply too fragile to heal once broken.
"I'll think about it, Trevor," she said, caressing her abdomen before taking her hand away.
Just then, Axe's voice broke over the intercom. "We're approaching Chicago. Prepare for landing."
Trevor squeezed her hand then took their empty beer bottles to the galley and discarded them, then returned and fastened himself into his seat.
She turned her gaze toward the window and the lights of Chicago. It would be dawn soon, but they had just enough time to seek cover at a hotel, where they could hole up until sundown.
"We should probably check in with the local AKM branch tomorrow night," Trevor said. "Let them know we're bringing Dacians to their turf."
With a nod, the irony wasn't lost on her. Micah had been after her relentlessly to return to AKM. Looked like he had gotten his wish. She would just have to make it clear once she saw him that her reasons for returning weren't for him. Facing and overcoming the demons that had haunted her since leaving Chicago was first and foremost. The fact that yet another failed job had brought her back here was purely coincidental.
"That'll make Micah happy." She had told Trevor about Micah's e-mails. "Now maybe he'll stop e-mailing me."
"Well, that's one way to look at it."
"I guess." With a roll of her eyes, she looked out the window again as all the ingredients of her anxiety rolled around her thoughts like tumbleweeds. Micah, Severin, Lakota, her brother Gabe…and Malek and Armand. Most of all, Malek and Armand. Was she really doing the right thing by returning? Was this really going to solve her problems? Three hours ago, this seemed like the right answer. Every bone in her body had told her coming back here would make everything right again. But now, doubt crept in and the second-guessing began, mostly because Trevor wanted her to run with the wind in her hair and give Malek a chance…see where things led.
She felt like a student at exam time, who had known the material in, out, and sideways right before the test began. But once faced with the questions, the answers vanished inside a vacuum. While returning to Chicago had, at first, seemed like the solution, now she just didn't know. She could be making matters worse by coming b
ack, not better. Or, according to Trev, this could end up being the best decision she ever made.
Could it really be that simple?
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked down at her lap and bit back her worries. Whether coming back was the right decision or not, and whether allowing Malek in would be a blessing or a curse, she was here now, so there was nothing she could do about it.
Trevor was right, though. She did like Malek. As in, she liked him more than she should. Malek was a good male, and he deserved better than she could give him, but she couldn't deny her attraction to him. But what male wanted damaged goods like her?
For decades, she had used what happened with Armand in her favor and had become one tough bitch of a fighter, enforcer, and assassin. Instead of becoming a frail, weepy victim, she had erected a hardened exterior and become the type of female no male would ever hurt again. She had even learned how to use her feminine wiles to her advantage, as she proved when she seduced Lakota to get to Severin. But now she wondered if she had only fooled herself all these decades. Was she as over Armand as she wanted to believe? Or had she merely tucked his memory away and now found herself forced to deal with him as Malek pushed his way into her life?
Malek. He really was a handsome male, with long, dark hair, a mouth with seductively curved lips, and eyes that were dark windows of sex appeal. And he was only a few inches taller than she was, which was rare for a male vampire, who usually towered over her. If she was being honest, Malek was her ideal type. At least what her ideal type used to be, pre-Armand.