I sat up straighter as Clover sashayed in, proudly carrying a small plate with a sandwich.
“As promised!” She looked curiously at my face. “Why are you all red?”
“Thanks!” I said loudly, trying to get the phone back in my hands to hang up. “For the sandwich!” I hit the button quickly, looking back up to see Clover’s big grin.
She flopped her tiny self at the foot of my bed. “Calling your boyfriend back home? If he comes up, we have an extra room.” She winked.
“No, just a study partner, but thank you.” I picked up my textbook again, propping it on my knees and staring at it while refusing to acknowledge to flush creeping down my neck.
Her slender fingers slid over the top of the book and turned it rightside up with one easy flip. “Mm hmm,” she teased as she flounced back over to her own bed.
It took me several minutes to realize he never answered me. How mortifying that I was so easy to distract! I shoved the book aside and leaned over to grab my shoes. On second thought, I grabbed my sandwich as well.
“Where are you going?” Clover asked as I walked toward the door.
“Going to get some answers,” I muttered as I went out the door and closed it behind me. I was perfectly aware of the fact that it wasn’t a good idea. I was never an impulsive person.
No, that wasn’t true. I was never allowed to find out if I was or not.
Just as I grabbed the door latch, someone from behind me cleared their throat. Upon turning I saw an older man, mid-thirties perhaps, sitting on the squishy armchair I liked so much.
“Hello there. You’re a new face.”
So are you, but I didn’t say it. “I’m Gemma, Heath’s cousin.”
A tired smile lit up his face. “Ahh, I see the family resemblance. I’m Lyall. Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Seeing my hesitance, he added lightly, “You don’t have to tell me. I was just curious.”
My hand dropped from the latch as I turned around. “I was heading out to a friend’s place for a bit.”
“Visiting a friend is always good,” he offered.
“He’s not really a friend. But,” I shrugged, “he has something I want.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Has anyone offered tea?”
“I spent the night actually, but thank you for asking.” I moved closer to the sofa across from him.
Maybe it was that he was an adult, or his unassuming smile, but I felt like he was safe. I felt like he was familiar. “I mean, he’s nice. It’s just, he knows something I have a right to know. It involves me.” I searched his face for any sign of knowledge, but he only looked interested.
“I agree one should tell the truth. Does he know something bad about you?”
“I don’t know.” I really didn’t. If it was bad, why frame it is such a positive light? If it was simply good, then why hide it? I touched the skin under my eye. “I guess that’s why I’m so desperate to know.”
He nodded again, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “That sounds like a difficult situation to be in.”
“I really don’t understand why anyone who knows anything in my life is keeping things from me. I think I’ve handled things really well so far.”
“You seem like you would,” he said agreeably.
“Thank you. I wish everyone else felt that way.” I worried at my bottom lip. “At least I think I have, for the most part. I did get awfully upset with my mum and dad, but I’ll go back...after.” After I found out what they were so determined I shouldn’t know.
Perhaps I was still upset, but it didn’t feel right to leave them in the dark. They had feelings, and they never worried about anyone like they did me.
“Family is important.”
I smiled at him, feeling better than I had for most of the morning. “I better go if I’m making two visits today. Thanks for talking with me.”
He smiled back. “You’re welcome, Gemma.”
This time when I head out the door, I felt much lighter. I climbed into my little car and shifted into gear, thinking about what I would say.
Admittedly, it was a long enough drive that I had plenty of time to rethink what I was doing. It wasn’t good manners to drop by unannounced.
I had been gearing myself up for an impassioned speech about how I deserved to know, but now my thoughts ran along more reasonable and sedate. Still firm though, I was sure I wanted answers.. Especially if we were...if...I didn’t know what we were. Was it uncool to even start putting labels on us? Or would that make me a pushover if I didn’t?
I refocused on the matter at hand.
I parked right in front, no cars around. I felt a little better for that, but my walk back up to the door was filled with uncertainty. Nothing for it. I knocked loudly twice.
The door opened and Ry stood there, wearing only pajama pants. His gray eyes lit up, and he ran his fingers through his light blond hair. “Just the person I was thinking about.”
“I’m sorry for--”
He reached out and grasped my wrist, tugging me inside the door and shutting it. At least I assumed he shut it, I stopped thinking the moment his lips touched mine.
Ry tugged me against his bare chest, cupping my jaw in one hand before snogging the sanity right out of my head. Light kisses and bold nips, he nudged me a step back. “We shouldn't,” he murmured against my mouth, “you're a bit wicked, aren't you?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the sneaky bloke took that opportunity to thoroughly claim the kiss by stroking his tongue against mine. His hands caressed my face and gripped my shoulders more securely against the wall.
No, I completely forgot why I was here. I whimpered, curling my fingers on the bare skin of his chest. I couldn’t say how much time passed, but it did so very nicely.
And the front door swung open, smacking into the wall inches from us.
We broke apart, too startled to do anything more than look at the man standing there.
Long blond hair, regal posture, and a very arrogant slant to his raised eyebrows. Marius. The smile that touched his lips never reached his icy blue eyes.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
Chapter 9
Ry hadn’t taken his hands off my shoulders as he blinked at Marius. “What a pleasant surprise. Do what do I owe the privilege of you barging in?”
Marius shut the door behind him, a supercilious smile still playing on his lips. “I don’t need an excuse to visit my brother, do I?”
That was horrifying. Dropping my hands my Ry, I tried to press against the wall as if I’d fall out the other side, safe.
“You usually have one anyway,” Ry said flatly, moving one of his hands away and stepping forward between us. He was just a hint taller than his brother.
Marius’ gaze flitted from him to me, and back again. “You’ve been up to your own dirty work. Saves me hunting her down.”
I stiffened, looking at the back of Ry’s head. He didn’t do this for his family, I was sure. Mostly sure.
Ry snorted. “Let’s all sit down then, and have a nice coze over tea.”
The taller brother chuckled. “I’m afraid this chat won’t be including you. She’s going straight to the Doyen.”
“Why does he want her?”
I winced as Marius’ top lip curled back from his teeth, pretense of civility fading quickly. “Don’t place yourself higher than you are. I’m not asking you if she’s coming with me.”
Before this could go any further, and I was definitely sure it would, I brushed his hand off my shoulder. “I’ll go.”
“No, she won’t,” Ry snapped, which was quite chivalrous of him. He was definitely worth a snog or two later, if the chance came up.
“I will.” I squeezed between his bare shoulder and the wall, closer to his brother.
Marius looked at me fully this time, lips pressed together tightly and smugly. “I do love a proud girl.” He opened the door behind him and gestured to me, watching his brother.
“I
’ll be fine,” I said, turning my hand to squeeze his. The contact slid away as I stepped out the door. It wasn’t a good idea, but what if it got violent in there? There would be no end to my guilt then.
I followed him down to a car parked right in front of mine, it was a shiny silver Lexus ES that made mine look like it was ready for the trash heap.
“The model with the most oversized hood. Compensating?”
He unlocked the door with a remote, lip curling in a sneer at me. “Get in the car.”
Antagonize the violent abductor, real smart Gemma. I climbed in the passenger’s seat without a word. The interior was luxurious and spotless, and I ran my fingers over the smooth dash.
“Don’t...touch anything.” He looked at me as if I were a grubby child with muddy fingers.
It took everything to not tuck my hands in my lap and duck my head. This wasn’t exactly how I wanted to get answers. After all, they were bound to tell me why I was there. Bad people loved to talk, that’s what movies taught me.
I surreptitiously checked my pocket for my mobile, but I also noticed he was watching me out the corner of his eye. I left it, in some hope it wouldn’t get taken away.
“If the werewolves call themselves Pack, what do you lot call yourself?”
“We’re not a club.”
I thought about this, then grinned widely. “I know! It’s the Pride.”
His mouth curled downward.
“You know panther is a general term, right? What do you guys turn into, black jaguars or leopards?”
"Shut it,” he snarled.
I did, but just for a moment. “...you know a Pride is for lions, right?”
He shot me a narrow look. “I have to bring you alive, not unharmed.”
I shut my mouth, chastised. Or cowed. One of those.
The drive was long and uneventful, winding further into a neighborhood that could only be described as posh. I’d never be able to find my way out of the residential maze on my own.
We pulled up to a huge house, the kind that’s featured in magazines. Dove gray facade, white trim, green lawn, and vines climbing up three story high terraces.
He was out of the car the moment it stopped.
Unclicking the belt, I hesitated. This wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but I didn’t doubt I’d be coming here, one way another. He threatened bodily harm just because I was talking. Touchy, wasn’t he?
He opened the door for her, making a sharp motion toward the path up to the house. I walked ahead of him, wiping sweaty palms on my jeans.
Once he joined me, he stepped forward smoothly and knocked.
Now he knocks.
The door opened, and it was the sullen black haired man who only had eyes for Rose yesterday. “Marius.” Tiberius barely acknowledged me with a split second glance as he stepped aside for us.
The interior was just as picture-perfect as the outside, tastefully furnished but nothing ostentatious. Everything had its own place, no forgotten dishes, discarded jackets, or welcome rugs reading Wipe Your Paws Here. A missed opportunity if there ever was one.
Marius led the way and Tiberius fell into step behind me, enhancing the feeling of being trapped. “Are we going to have tea?” I was learning that when I was nervous, I talked.
“No.” Tiberius didn’t sound amused.
“It’s bad manners to not offer a guest a spot of tea.”
“I don’t remember her being this annoying yesterday.” He glanced at the blond man.
“Just wait,” Marius intoned darkly.
I locked my hands behind my back and smiled a little as I followed Tiberius. Marius walked behind, which made my skin crawl in ways I’d never experienced before.
The room he stopped in was simply huge. Bookshelves lined the walls to the ceiling, which was white and gold and had murals in overlapping circles. There was so much to look at, magnificent fireplaces, candle-lit chandeliers, a gold archway leading to more books, that I missed the man sitting in one of the leather armchairs.
Once he had my attention he smiled, the sort of smile a man gave when they had enough power to even pretend it was a genuine one.
“Sir, I’d like to introduce you to Gemma Sparrow.” At the last part Marius eyes turned on me, flat with dislike. “This is Septimus. Behave,” he added in an undertone.
I looked over my shoulder at Tiberius, but it wasn’t me he was looking with such dislike on his pasty face.
A little push on my shoulder from Marius reminded me why I was here. I stifled a yelp, rubbing the bruised skin as I approached their Doyen.
He was a good-looking man, with his blue eyes and thick black hair stylishly cut. He waved a hand at Marius, and the other man took several steps backwards out of my sight..
“No need for such concern.” He looked at me, smiling slightly as he stood up. “Gemma.” He closed the distance between us, reaching out to touch my shoulder. But he stopped, fingers inches away. “I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me.”
Confused didn’t even began to cover how I felt at that moment. All I could manage was a surprised “Oh?”
He touched my shoulder, gingerly, gaze roaming over my face. “I thought you were dead.”
Was there a miscommunication I missed somewhere? I looked at the other two men, but Marius wore a blank mask and Tiberius did not look as if he wanted to be here period.
Turning back to the man still examining my features so intently, I worried at my bottom lip. “Why would you think that?” Why would he care, also?
His blue eyes met mine with startling alacrity. “I never imagined they kept you alive. Gemma, you’re my daughter.”
Oh. He was a bit mad, wasn’t he? “I don’t think you--”
“You were born with that, you know.” He looked at my right eye, the one that had caused me such trouble lately. “Taking me was revenge against me. It worked, I was never in such pain as when I thought you were dead.”
Chills ran along my arms at his quiet words, the air thin and hard to breathe. “No,” I frowned. “My parents are...my parents.”
“You’re my daughter. I know, because you had certain traits passed on.”
“This is really quite common, actually.” I tapped my right cheek, uneasily so. Both of his eyes, startlingly blue, looked perfectly normal to me.
“No, not that.” His mouth softened into an indulgent smile. “You can command a shifter to do as you say.”
Oh. Wait, no. “I really don’t have any control over them.” I pointed over my shoulder at the two others waiting silently behind me.
He looked over my shoulder and made a ‘come here’ gesture. “Tiberius.”
The young man came forward, stopping an arm’s length away from us. He definitely did not do so happily or even stoically.
“Command him to do anything you wish, with one word.”
My immediate idea took at least two words.
“No.” I shook my head, shutting my eyes tight for a moment.
However, Septimus was still standing there and waiting patiently. “Let me prove it. You’re my daughter.”
The repeated statement scraped against my mind worse than bone against metal. I looked at Tiberius, a wild sort of hopelessness stealing over me. “Sit!” I didn’t think he would.
Like strings cut from a puppet, he folded to the ground in an undignified sprawl.
It was hard to breathe again. “You could have told him to do that.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man standing up angrily.
“Tell him to do something he wouldn’t do.” Septimus urged.
I didn’t want to. Never mind Tiberius was already glaring at Septimus through a curtain of black strands that nearly covered his dark eyes. It wasn’t right to make someone do anything against their will.
“Don’t you want to know the truth, Gemma?” Septimus whispered, eyes intent on mine.
I licked my dry lips. If I really didn’t believe him, there could be no harm in it. “Bark!” I choked.
<
br /> Tiberius did suddenly, and his face twisted in furious hatred at me this time.
I covered my mouth with one hand, horrified more at what I’d done than what I could do. That explained certain odd reactions to me lately.
Septimus nodded. “You may go, Tiberius.”
The furious young man jerkily walked back to beside Marius, who looked far too maliciously delighted. He was also a terrible friend, what a shock.
I shook my head. “Even if that was true, what I can do, that doesn’t make me yours. My parents said you took him. My brother.”
“No, not at all Gemma.” He let out a deep breath. “You were both mine.” He turned his head, calling, “Andrew.”
From the archway stepped a young man, barely out of teenage years. He had my brown curls, but short and tame, and flat brown eyes. At least, one of them was brown.
I sucked in a deep breath.
His left eye glowed silver against the light, like a cat. Both his hands were shoved in the pockets of black trousers, the rumpled dress shirt very white against his tan skin.
“My brother?” I whispered, torn into indecision.
He stepped behind me, placing his hand more firmly on my shoulder. “You both look so much like your mother.”
Tears stung at the back of my eyes. I wanted to believe him.
Not because of any ill will toward my parents, but rather the loss of a sibling, so recent of a wound, felt soothed by the thought of him standing right before me.
Andrew didn’t react at all to the emotional tableau in front of him, he only stared right back at me.
I stepped away from Septimus, who I was uncertain about, toward the person who had so suddenly broke and healed my heart. “I thought you were dead.”
His head angled slightly, as if he were about to look elsewhere, but his eyes remained on mine. “Leave.” His voice was sharp and sudden.
I blinked, startled into being speechless.
He seemed to take more note of me now. “You are like me.” His voice had such little inflection, it was only the ghost of a smile that saved it.
I took that as acceptance and reached out to squeeze his hand. Something calm and warm passed between us. “I can’t believe…”
Chosen: Shifters of London Page 6