I couldn’t help but snort. “It figures that the last chimaera would be wolf-born. No wonder they all think they’re better than the rest of us.”
Lochlan nodded. “Aye, the wolves are a high-minded lot. But as I was saying, Marian told me that once she realized she was different than her lupine brethren, she became determined to learn all she could about what she was and how come so few were born. She researched werekind history as far back as she could trace it and talked to hundreds of werekind of different breeds throughout her life, and her conclusion—which I concur with based on my own research into the subject—is that the reason there are so few chimaera born is because your man’s kind are a genetic anomaly. They weren’t meant to happen, but they did.
“Based on our combined research, there’s really no way to predict when or in whom the gene will activate,” he went on. “It just happens. Perhaps the magic what created your kind decides to throw it in as a heads-up.”
“Did this Marian person become the Beast Master?” I asked.
“Beast Master?” Race queried. “Like that old Marc Singer movie?”
I looked at him. “Werekind history calls the chimaera Beast Master because he or she—or they—has the power to not only unite the Families, but allow us to find our lifemates among each other. Just like you’re the first true shapeshifter born in about three hundred years, you and I are the first bonded shifter pair in all that time. For the last three centuries, we’ve been bonding exclusively with humans.”
“Marian died precisely three hundred twenty-nine years ago, and she was one hundred years of age at the time,” Lochlan said with a nod. “I’d been a vampire only five years.”
I looked back at him. “How old were you when you were turned?” I asked, having been curious as to Lochlan’s true age for some time. I knew only that he’d been turned about a hundred years before Saphrona was born.
“I was born in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and forty-five. Diarmid Mackenna turned me in sixteen seventy-five,” Lochlan replied.
Quickly doing the calculations in my head, I couldn’t help but be surprised. “You’re three hundred sixty-four years old?”
“That surprises you?”
I narrowed my eyes at him peevishly. “I’m not an idiot, Vampire Ken. I know you bloodsuckers can potentially live forever. I knew you were older than Saphrona, I just never really thought about how old you really were. Vamps really are ageless—if I didn’t know better, I’d have pegged you for about twenty-eight.”
Lochlan smiled. “Thank you for making me two years younger than I was when I acquired my agelessness. Me da’s over seven and a half centuries himself.”
I didn’t care how old Diarmid was, and clearly Race didn’t either. “What else did Marian tell you?” he asked, steering the conversation back on track.
“’Twasn’t really much, I’m afraid,” Lochlan told him. “She told me about werekind being carriers of the chimaera gene and how she believed it activated at random every few hundred years, and confirmed Juliette’s historical recollection that during the lifespan of the chimaera, werekind will find mates among each other. She also told me something else I suspect you’re already aware of.”
As I looked down at Race he grimaced slightly. “Damn. I was hoping there was more.”
“My apologies, friend, if I implied there was a wealth of knowledge to share with you.”
“What’s this other thing you’re talking about?” I asked, looking between them.
Race gave my waist a gentle squeeze. “A form of imprinting actually, for lack of a better term. See, I can’t just become any animal at random—believe me, I’ve tried. First thing I ever turned into was an exact duplicate of Patches, our cat.”
I frowned again. “I don’t get it. What do you mean you became Patches?”
Race cleared his throat. “Unlike werekind—which I suspect now are born with their animal form encoded in their DNA because they only become the one thing—I have to have actually seen a living animal with my own eyes in order to become that animal,” he explained. “Can’t have just seen a picture or watched an image on a screen. I tried it when I first started shifting—I tried turning into every animal I’d ever seen in a book or on one of those nature shows. When I realized I was only becoming the animals I’d seen live, I realized that I have to be looking right at it, in the flesh, at which time it leaves a sort of imprint on my brain. After that, I can become that animal anytime I want to.”
“Out of morbid curiosity, Mr. Covington, whenever did you have chance to see a black bear?” Lochlan queried, voicing the question that had just popped in my own head to ask.
“I worked at a zoo for a while in my early twenties,” Race replied. “Got all kinds of imprints there.”
“Out of my own morbid curiosity, Lochlan,” I began, another question coming to me, “how did you know that bear shifters are called werebruins?”
Lochlan chuckled. “I told you I’ve a fascination with werekind. After my brief association with Marian I endeavored to learn as much as I could about your species. Thus, in the course of my research, I chanced to make the acquaintance of a werebruin fellow, who quickly made it clear that I was not to call him a werebear if I valued my eternal life.”
I giggled. “Yeah, they really hate that,” I said. “Sounds too ‘sissy’ or some such nonsense.”
Realizing then that I needed to use the facilities, I patted Race’s leg and stood. “I’m going to use the bathroom—think you boys can behave unsupervised for a few minutes?”
“Juliette, my sweet, if your lover and I were going to have at one another, I don’t think we’d be sitting here having this pleasant conversation,” Lochlan said, his usually cheeky tone back again.
“Speaking of, why are you even here? And I don’t mean in Cleveland, I already know the answer to that. I mean what the hell are you doing in my room? You haven’t been rummaging through my underwear drawer, have you?” I chided him.
Lochlan laughed. “Oh, my dear friend, how I have missed you,” he said. “Draw it open and have a whiff if you like, but you’ll find I’ve not touched your sadly unseen undergarments.”
“Better not have,” Race muttered.
“So what are you doing here?” I pressed.
“Waiting for you,” he replied. “After I called you at the coffee shop yesterday morn, I came here to wait for you to get off work. When you didn’t show, I grew concerned and convinced the manager to let me in so I could look for clues as to where you might have gone. Had you not come in when you did, I would have gone out to begin a search.”
Six
Whatever anger I may have had for his being in my room uninvited melted away at the look in Lochlan’s eyes. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that he genuinely cared about me, and I felt more than a little constriction in my chest as I returned his gaze.
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that you were willing to scour the city for me.”
Lochlan seemed a bit surprised that I didn’t argue the point, then he just relaxed and nodded. I walked to the door a few steps behind him and went inside the bathroom, and though I had never been one to eavesdrop, I couldn’t help but exercise my enhanced hearing to listen in on what, if anything, the men were saying on the other side of the wall.
“So…” Race began slowly. “You’re Lochlan.”
I imagined Lochlan nodded again as he replied, “Aye, last I checked my identification.”
“You really tore those fucking leeches’ heads off, the ones that hurt Juliette?”
“Aye,” Loch replied, his tone darker. “That I did.”
Race, or so I assumed, cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said. I detected emotion in those two words, probably just a hint of what he’d felt the night before when I’d told him my story.
“Thanks are not necessary, chimaera. Those bastards got what they deserved. No woman should be brutalized in that way, and had I the ability to prevent what happened to Juliette, I’d have done it.”<
br />
“You were there for her when I wasn’t, when I didn’t even know it was my place,” Race told him. “So I have to thank you for that.”
“If it pleases you.”
I quickly finished on the toilet and flushed it, then moved to the sink to wash my hands. I knew I should stop, but I couldn’t help lingering to listen in some more.
“You knew Juliette and her brother before?” Lochlan asked.
“Yeah, when we were kids,” Race replied. “I grew up right down the street from their house. Mark was my best friend up until I was fourteen. After I started phasing though, my mother moved us around a lot. She didn’t know there were others who could have helped us, and she was afraid she would lose me. I haven’t seen either of them in sixteen years.”
Lochlan chuckled. “And now here you are, bonding with a girl you’ve not seen since she was what, nine?”
“Yeah, it’s a little strange. But I don’t care. Mark and Juliette were like family to me, being I was an only child. I’m more than happy to be a part of a family again.”
“Don’t push her, mate. Obviously you know that our Juliette’s been hurt more than she should ever have known, and it may be a while yet before she’s well enough for…bonding,” Lochlan said then, and I had to put my hand to my mouth to keep from laughing. Was he seriously warning Race about trying to have sex with me?
“Not that our ‘bonding’ is any of your business, buddy,” Race returned, a note of warning in his voice. “But Juliette and I have already had this discussion. I told her I would not push her for anything she wasn’t ready for, and she said she’ll let me know what she is and is not ready for.”
Lochlan laughed again. “She hasn’t told you, then.”
“Told me what?” Race demanded.
That was my cue. If anyone was going to talk about sex—particularly if it involved me—and the bonding rituals of werekind, it was damn well not going to be Lochlan Mackenna. Shutting off the water, I grabbed for the hand towel with one hand and wrenched the bathroom door open with the other.
Lochlan looked over his shoulder at me and smirked. I hadn’t been in the bathroom inordinately long, but he probably suspected I’d been listening. I narrowed my eyes at him as I dried my hands with the towel.
“Jules, what’s he talking about?” Race asked me. “What haven’t you told me?”
I looked over at him, and suddenly was annoyed that he was daring to question me about something I hadn’t yet told him when he was still holding back himself.
Fisting my hands on my hips, I took a calming breath and said, “If you’re talking about what I think you are, it’s not something I am purposely keeping from you, unlike someone else I could mention who is purposely concealing something from me. It just so happens that it’s not something that one just throws into a conversation. It has to be discussed with maturity and delicacy, and frankly I was not sure how to broach the subject.”
My lover had the decency to look chagrined at my dressing down, and looked away from me for a moment before looking back and saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were withholding something from me.”
My ire immediately deflated. “I’m sure you didn’t. I should be more annoyed at the bloodsucker here,” I said, jerking a thumb in Lochlan’s direction, “for even bringing it up. Our ways are none of his business.”
I turned to Lochlan again. “I have a feeling your old friend Marian or one of the many werekind you’ve met over the years told you a hell of a lot more than they should have. That particular ceremony was never meant to be shared with outsiders. It’s a private matter between mates, and you had no business bringing it up.”
Lochlan’s smirk shifted to mimic Race’s chastised expression. “My apologies. I was merely having a bit of fun with your man here, trying to get his measure.”
“It’s not up to you to decide if he’s right for me Lochlan,” I said. “The magic of our kind chose him for me, and me for him. Same as the magic of yours chose Mark for Saphrona long before he was even born.”
“Aye, that it… Wait, chose you for him?” the vampire queried. “Well, bugger me. I ought have known—he is a chimaera after all. ‘Tis a side effect of his variable nature, I believe.”
“What is?” Race and I asked in unison.
Loch looked between us. “The double imprint. It goes along with werekind finding mates among each other—the chimaera must find his, or hers, first. At least it’s what Marian and I both concluded. Only when there is a chimaera alive and bonded to his or her own mate will the binding magic preventing such from occurring throughout the two-natured community be lifted, and so shall it last for as long as the chimaera lives.”
I stared at Lochlan for a long moment. I didn’t want to have to ask a bloodsucking leech, of all beings, this particular question, but it seemed that he was the only one alive who had the answer. “So if you and this Marian, whom we’ll never meet, are to be believed,” I began slowly. “Race and I must complete our bonding according to the sacred ways if we want to give other werekind the chance to find mates among our own kind—not that there’s anything wrong with bonding with humans?”
Lochlan’s expression was devoid of the snarky playfulness he’d shown me when I came out of the bathroom. His nod and tone were solemn as he said, “Aye. Why do you suppose they call ‘im the Beast Master?”
Well, wasn’t that just wonderful? Perhaps it was part of the “when your need for him is greatest” bit that the psychic had mentioned, because wouldn’t you know it? Race and I were apparently meant to be the metaphorical mother and father of the next generation.
But no pressure.
Numbly I moved to sit on Race’s lap again, and he welcomed me with open arms and a kiss on my cheek. I knew that I should be more concerned with how he was handling this revelation, but for a moment all I could think about was the enormity of the responsibility I now had before me, of the part I would play in the future of my own people. It was incredibly daunting to realize that if I for any reason chose not to complete the bonding, if I chose to forsake the old ritual, that it would quite possibly be another three centuries or more before my people had the chance to mate among werekind instead of humans. Although Race certainly had a part to play as well, the reality was that it was up to me, and if I chose to say no then the fault would be mine. Because once again, it was all about having a choice.
I suddenly knew how Atlas felt when he’d held the world upon his shoulders.
“I am sorry,” Lochlan said quietly. “I can see this is quite a shock to both of you, though one would think that you at least, my fair Juliette, would have heard the stories.”
I blinked several times, trying to collect my thoughts. “I… Obviously I’d heard about chimaera being called the Beast Master, but I didn’t know precisely why. All the stories we have, that my mother used to tell me as a little girl, they all said that the chimaera was the Beast Master because he could become so many different animals.”
“That may well be a part of it, having to master so many different forms,” Lochlan said.
“Wow,” I said, taking a shaky breath. “I think I know now how Saphrona felt last month when I told her about dhunphyr blood being addictive to vampires: I’ve just learned something I didn’t know about my own people from my people’s natural enemy.”
Lochlan frowned. “We’re not enemies, Juliette.”
“Oh, Loch, that’s not what I meant,” I told him. “I know that you and I are not enemies. Not anymore. But the symbolism is still there.”
He appeared to think about that for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose you’ve a point,” he said.
I glanced down at Race, and looking into those fathomless eyes of his again, seeing him look back at me with open wonder, I suddenly wished very much that Lochlan wasn’t sitting across from us. He must have sensed—probably by an increase in our pheromone levels—that it was time to exist stage right, for he cleared his throat and rose, saying, “I’l
l be out in my car, sleeping. Please don’t take off anywhere without stopping to say goodbye, if it’s not too much to ask.”
It occurred to me then that I hadn’t seen the Escalade in the parking lot. I looked into his suddenly weary dark eyes and nodded. Lochlan made his way to the door and I rose to follow. I placed my hand on the knob as he stepped out so I could shut and lock it behind him, and he turned back for a moment.
“I am truly happy for you, my dear,” Lochlan said softly, before he turned and walked away.
As soon as I had shut the door and flipped the lock, Race was behind me, his hands on my hips, his mouth nuzzling my ear. I’d thought to talk to him for a moment, to try and clear things up—maybe even to explain the bonding ritual—but all thoughts of conversation fled when his tongue expertly traced the rim of my ear and he took the lobe between his teeth for a gentle nip. I whimpered as fire immediately raced through my veins, and I tried to turn around, to meet his kisses with my own.
Race held me against him, running one hand under the borrowed sweatshirt to take hold of one of my breasts, the other slipping into the waistband of the pants to reach for my sex.
“Oh my,” he whispered huskily in my ear as he slid his finger back and forth across my opening, stroking my already swelling labia. “Already so wet for me.”
I grabbed hold of his neck with my left hand as he dipped the finger inside me, another whimper escaping me. I had to brace myself against the door with my other hand as he began to slide his finger in and out, brushing against my clitoris with his palm as he worked.
“Race,” I pleaded. “Oh…”
He nuzzled my neck, pinching my nipple as he continued to drive me to a frenzy. “What do you want, Juliette?”
“I want…oh God…I want you.”
“Baby, that’s nothing new to me,” he said with a chuckle. “Be specific about what you want. Here’s an example: I want to taste you.”
With that, he removed his hand from between my legs, and I groaned in protest as he was raising his wet finger to his mouth, sucking my essence off of it.
From the Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) Page 9