Bone Driven

by Hailey Edwards

  “You’ve asked me to accept you’re more than a vessel for Conquest. You’ve asked me to trust that you will resist her control, fight against your own nature. You’ve asked me to have faith, when I lost mine so long ago I doubted ever finding it again.” He placed his palms on my knees, engulfing them in his warmth. “You say you’re Luce Boudreau.” His thumbs stroked the insides of my thighs. “Make me believe it.”

  The subtle caresses short-circuited my brain. “What if I can’t?”

  I hadn’t exactly had much luck so far.

  “Conquest always gets what she wants at any cost.” Fluttering muscles chased the skin across his jaw. “One of those things has always been… me.”

  “Oh, Cole.” I covered his hands with mine. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “Everything about her from the way she walked, the way she laughed, the way she smiled, reminded me of all I lost, all she took from me. I couldn’t stand the sight of her, but she couldn’t bear to be parted from me.” He extended his bare wrist, the scars a stark reminder of how bad I was for him, and offered himself up for my inspection. “She cuffed me with these and strung chains from them that she wore wrapped around her hips as a belt so that I was forced to follow wherever she led.”

  Unable to glance away, I stared at the glimmering rose gold, hating we shared such brutal history.

  “Her touch dirtied me. Her voice poisoned me. Her taste…” He flexed his fingers. “I tried to kill her. Many times. She grew to anticipate our battles.” His breath sawed from his lungs. “I sold her my soul, gave her dominion over me, and I had no recourse. She owned me, and she never let me forget.”

  I rolled my lips in to stop from begging not to hear when I had to learn our history in order to understand our relationship.

  “I’ve known you desire me from the day we met. You wear your need as perfume on your skin.” His thumbs started their slow circles again. “You could have taken me that day in the woods while I was mindless to get inside you. You could have allowed me to pleasure you, and no one would have blamed you.”

  “You would have blamed me.” I rubbed the pads of my fingers over his rough knuckles. “And you would have blamed yourself. The first I can handle, but the second…” I broke even that small contact. “Consent matters, and you couldn’t give yours.” I cleared my throat, the skin flushing across my cheeks and throat. “I’ll see what I can do about the, ah, smell.”

  A rhythmic purr filled the space between us as he covered the bracelet I wore with his wide palm, his fingers tightening around my wrist until he chained me in place. “I already told you.” His meltwater eyes thawed precious degrees. “You complement me.”

  All the while a blush swept up my throat, I attempted to pinpoint what made this time different, why this felt like he was the one complementing me.

  “Are you two done yet?” Santiago called from behind the plastic sheeting. “Portia’s not getting any less alone the longer you two bump gums and gods only know what else in there.”

  There was no mistaking Cole’s reluctance to rise. “I have to go.”

  “Me too.” I got to my feet. “I have a mission to accomplish for Wu.”

  “Wu is dangerous.” His gaze dipped to my mouth as though assessing other, equally lethal risks. “Make sure you take Santiago with you wherever you go.”

  “He can’t play escort. Not after this morning. Rixton would burst a blood vessel.” I held up a hand to forestall his protest. “I have to visit Sherry. Rixton has the last copy of the Orvis documents in his home office. I need to finesse that from under her nose, and that can’t happen if Rixton comes charging in like an enraged bull.”

  “Be safe.” He lingered, but he didn’t add more. “I’ll see you later.”

  As much as I wanted to ask how much later, I was aware of both Santiago listening at the doorway and Cole weighing the challenge he’d laid down for me. I wasn’t willing to push either. Especially since it looked like Santiago was playing backup for me while Thom kept watch over Miller.

  “Santiago’s got my back.” Probably. “I’ll be fine.” I rocked a half-step forward. “Take care of —” I bit off the name I had no right to speak “— yourself.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to them,” he promised me, proving one of his super powers, in addition to super strength and the ability to fly, was reading me like a book. “I won’t let them out of my sight.”

  While he made his exit and said his goodbyes, I got busy securing an invitation. “Hey, Sherry.”

  “Oh, God. An actual adult person. Keep speaking. Full sentences. Whole words. Come on. Talk to Momma.” Her groan lasted forever. “Did you hear that? I baby-talked you. I am losing my mind.”

  “You’ve been a mom for like two weeks.” Shame sneak-attacked me that I no longer tracked Nettie’s age in daily increments. “There’s no way you have cabin fever already.”

  “Let’s be clear —” She was quick to correct me. “Nettie isn’t the problem here. It’s my husband. He’s lost the ability to communicate like an adult, and I don’t think I’m telling you anything you don’t already know when I say he was iffy on the whole mature conversation thing to start with.”

  “Well, it just so happens my night is wide open.” I braced a hip against the counter. “You feel up to having company?”

  “I’ll even brush my hair.” She squealed. “How soon can you get here?”

  “Two hours?” I had to shower and run a few loads of laundry first if I hoped to salvage my stealth mode outfit and towels. “I would offer to bring Thai over when I come, but Rixton mentioned you’re on a special breastfeeding diet. What are acceptable substitutions?”

  “Pick up the Thai,” she pleaded. “If I can’t eat it, at least I can smell it.”

  Poor Sherry. Responsible adulting sucked. “What about you?”

  “How about a veggie plate from Pansy’s? I’ve been craving collards for whatever reason, and that would really hit the spot. Extra cornbread, please and thank you.”

  We chatted a moment longer before I ended the call and started the clothes. I figured I would wash the black outfit first since I was going to have to bleach the hell out of the towels if I wanted to save them.

  Leaving the boys to entertain themselves, I jogged upstairs, ducked under the shower, and started scrubbing dried blood off my stomach. Considering where I was about to go and what I was about to do, I felt dirtier when I stepped out than when I got in.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sherry greeted me on the porch with a cooing Nettie in her arms. I thought she was coming in for a kiss on my cheek and wondered if that was a new symptom of mommyitis, but nope. She was leaning over to stick her nose in the bag from Thai-Thai For Now. After a long inhale that must have sucked half the flavor off my noodles, she straightened with a sigh. “That’s the stuff. Come on. We’ll eat in the living room like heathens.”

  “I eat in the living room all the time.” Dad had enforced the oldie but goodie eat at least one meal together as a family rule when I was a kid. As far as rules went, it was a good one, but it didn’t hold up as well now that we worked different shifts. “As a matter of fact, I ate a late-late breakfast on the floor in front of my couch.”

  “Scandalous.” She led me to the living room and placed Nettie in a bouncy seat she kept going with the tip of one toe. “Clearly, you’re the heathen queen.”

  “I was found in a swamp,” I reminded her. “You’re lucky I use silverware instead of my bare hands.”

  “Oh, please. Your lack of table manners has nothing to do with where you were found and everything to do with you being raised by a bachelor.” She patted the cushion beside her. “How about you sit next to me and blow on each bite in my general direction? I wouldn’t want you to burn your tongue or anything.”

  “Will I get in trouble for exposing you to secondhand Thai?” Eyes narrowed, I clutched the bag to my chest. “Rixton is already pissed at me.”

  “You’ve been acting weird
for weeks then one day you’re a no-show at work, and you think he’s going to take that well?” She snorted, an utterly inelegant sound that still came out daintier than when I let one fly. “He’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.” She pegged me with a sad look. “I never see you anymore.”

  “I miss you too,” I said by way of apology. “I’ll try to do better.”

  “I don’t mean to guilt trip you.” She accepted the bag I passed her and dug in. “Okay, so I meant to guilt trip you a little. That’s what friends are for, right? I’m just asking you please – for the sake of your goddaughter – don’t give her father a heart attack.”

  “He told you.” There was no other reason why me missing work, with or without a call, would have merited him ratting me out before he got home tonight. “About White Horse.”

  “He might have mentioned finding you dressed in a cat burglar special, covered in blood, and surrounded by men of questionable ethics. He might have also mentioned the guy camped out on your couch resembled a shark bite victim.” She accepted the can of sugar-free, dye-free, caffeine-free soda with a curled lip, but it had been the least offensive option on the menu. “What he didn’t mention was if a certain hunk a hunk of burning love was there.”

  “Cole —” I emphasized his name “— was not there, thank you very much.”

  His earlier presence and his eventual return were beside the point.

  “Mmm-hmm.” She pointed at herself then drew a circle in the air. “This is my I believe you face.”

  “You’re fixated.” Pot, meet kettle. “Objectify your husband for a little while, why don’t you?”

  “I would,” she agreed on a sigh, “but it’s more fun when it’s a hands-on experience.”

  Eww. Eww. Eww.

  “Speaking of hands-on —” I twirled more noodles around my fork “— I’m not touching that comment.”

  A mewling sound rose from the bouncy seat, and Sherry set down her food. “What’s wrong, sugar lump?” She lifted her daughter, wrinkled her nose, then turned her head to cough. “You are so your father’s daughter.” Eyes watering, she cuddled her baby closer. “We’ll be right back. This won’t take but a minute.”

  “Take your time.” I placed my foot on the coffee table and went through the motions of popping the tab on my own drink. “There’s no rush.”

  Singing an old nursery rhyme, Sherry carried Nettie down the hall to her bedroom for a change. I waited a heartbeat to see if the door would shut, but it didn’t. Nothing for it. I set the can on a coaster and stood in a rush, making my way down the opposite hall to where Rixton had carved out his office in the formal dining room.

  Stacks of papers, electronics, and bills littered the glossy oak behemoth functioning as his desk. Six ladder-back chairs, their seats buried under a mishmash of overflow, tucked beneath the table. Two bookshelves crowded one wall, both stuffed to capacity, and a file cabinet on wheels sat abandoned in one corner.

  Hands trembling, I started a quick and methodical search through Rixton’s belongings, the invasion of his privacy unsettling the Thai in my gut. Nothing. There was nothing here. I scanned the room again, slower this time. Where had he…?

  Years spent exploring the labyrinthine twists of Rixton’s mind popped the answer into my head.

  Below the window was an outlet that didn’t match the style of the others. It was larger, plainer, and the color was one shade lighter. Those were sins Sherry would never forgive without good reason. I crossed the room and knelt, running my fingers around the raised edges. There was a bit of give, but not enough sway to be useful. I tested the screw in the center with my thumbnail only to discover it was fake. The entire rectangle was one solid piece of molded plastic.

  Springing back onto my feet, I scoured Rixton’s desk for the letter opener I’d spotted earlier and carried it to the wall where I used the flat edge to pry the whole contraption forward a fraction of an inch. With my fingertips, I pulled the cover out farther until the dummy outlet fell into my hands. Through the narrow opening, I spied several sets of rolled-up papers secured with rubber bands. Tucked into the gap between the wall studs, nestled between other scrolls, was the bundle of prints.

  Before I lost my nerve, I finagled the photos from their hidey hole. Once I popped the cover back in place, I unrolled the stack, checked to make sure they were all there, then folded them until they fit in my back pocket. I’d worn an extra-long, extra-loose shirt to make the contraband less noticeable. It was the best I could do on short notice.

  Tearing the images to pieces and flushing them would be more satisfying, a fitting outlet for my guilt, but my gut warned me Wu would accept nothing less than the originals. After going through all the hassle of securing the copies, he would want to destroy them in the manner he saw fit.

  With that done, I rolled back onto my feet and examined the outlet. Everything looked good from here. As I backed out of the office, I returned the letter opener and checked to make sure I had righted everything I’d touched. Certain I had covered my tracks, I dashed back into the living room and ran smack into Sherry and Nettie.

  “You’re not leaving already, are you?” Sherry strapped Nettie back into her seat. “I promise she won’t drop another bomb for at least three hours.”

  “There were no napkins in our bags.” I gave her a wide berth and kept my back to the wall. “I was going for paper towels.” Excuses made, I bolted for the kitchen where I stood with my palms braced on the sink and hung my head. “I am so not cut out for covert ops.”

  “Luce,” Sherry called after a few minutes, “a piece of your chicken jumped off your plate into my mouth. You better hurry up in case the others attempt an escape. I’m only one woman here. I can’t stem the tide.”

  I tore off a few paper towels on my way back into the living room, but I couldn’t stomach another bite. I had betrayed Rixton, Sherry, and Nettie. In their own home. The one place meant to be a safe haven, and I had shaken that foundation of their trust and love and welcome with my deceit.

  Rock, meet bottom.

  I sat and talked with her for hours, like I might never get another chance, which was a real possibility after Rixton realized what I had done. I even fed Nettie a bottle while she luxuriated in the safety of her bouncy seat, but I couldn’t stop fidgeting. I was ready to crawl out of my skin by the time Rixton called to ask Sherry if she needed him to pick anything up from the store on his way home.

  That was my cue to exit stage left.

  With the prints tucked safely in my back pocket, I said my goodbyes and hit the steps at a gallop. Holed up in the Bronco, I brought the black cell to my lips and spoke two damning words. “It’s done.”

  But whether I meant the job, the friendship with Sherry, or my partnership with Rixton, I wasn’t sure.

  Wu met me in the same grocery store parking lot where I saved Sherry all those years ago, and it got me thinking about how life moved in circles. Free will creating endless ripples in a cosmic pond. This was where it all began for me and the Rixtons, and this might very well be where it ended.

  With my hip braced against the Bronco’s tailgate, I watched his approach, his every move screaming top of the food chain, baby and marveled at how charun blended so well among humans. They were apex predators, and they wore us like dressing as a sheep might hide the wolf salivating behind their eyes.

  “You’re unhappy.” Wu studied the heaviness in my shoulders, the drooping of my spine. “You should be pleased. You got what we needed without getting caught.”

  “I invited myself over to my partner’s house tonight. I brought his wife dinner and pretended I was there to visit her and the baby, my goddaughter, and then I broke into his personal files while her back was turned.” The copies in the car had at least been held in a communal area, not that theft of community property was better than personal. I shoved the prints at him, eager to wash my hands of them. “I accept the necessity of what had to be done, but I take no satisfaction in what I did. He’s my
friend. He deserves better than this. They both do.”

  Wu mimicked my posture. “How is Miller?”

  “Ready to leap tallish buildings in a single hop.”

  “So protective.” His chuckle raced over my skin. “I’m not interested in exploiting his weakness.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Survival of the fittest got real when charun were involved. “Do you ever get tired of spying on me?”

  “You fascinate me.” His shoulders twitched in a shrug. “So, no. I don’t.”

  Can’t blame a girl for trying. “Can we agree to leave my coterie out of this?”

  “Since you’re one and the same, no.” He shoved off the Bronco. “Miller, in particular, is a high risk. His unflinching loyalty to you is the only reason he’s not kept in chains. While he’s weak, he’ll have difficulty holding onto his skin. Either we monitor him from afar, or we check him into a facility until he’s recovered.”