Micah's Bride (All the King's Men Book 9)

by Donya Lynne

  “Forget what I said.”

  “Cordray . . .” Sam sounded like she was talking to an insolent child.

  Cordray kept her back to Sam but angled her face toward the window that overlooked the lawn behind the house.

  Sam remained silent, giving Cordray space. Sometimes, that was all it took to enable someone to start talking.

  The two females remained like statues for what felt like five minutes, neither of them talking, neither of them moving.

  When Sam was about to give up, Cordray said, “I do want kids, Sam, but what am I supposed to do? Trace is afraid of having children.” Her voice whispered out of her, sounding like defeat.

  Sam pushed out of the chair and came up behind Cordray. But she didn’t touch her. That would have been too much. Cordray didn’t do pity.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen it in his thoughts.”

  “Maybe you misread them.”

  She turned, finally revealing her face. No tears pooled on her eyelids, but no doubt lay in her expression either. “I didn’t misread him, Sam. He doesn’t want kids.”

  That didn’t sound like Trace. He was so good with Aiden and Null. How could he not want kids of his own?

  “He thinks he’ll fuck them up because he had such a lousy childhood. He’s afraid he lacks parenting skills.” She rolled her eyes.

  Sam almost laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Look at how he is with little Null. And Aiden. He’s the perfect father.”

  Cordray lifted her arms out to the sides in surrender. “You’re preaching to the choir, Sammy. I’m not the one you need to convince. Trace is.”

  “Have you talked to him about it?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Not while he’s in his calling.”

  “Don’t you think that’s exactly why you two need to discuss this?” Sam looked down at Cordray’s stomach. “You could already be pregnant, Cordray. That’s a little late to be talking about whether or not you want kids.”

  “This is a new turn of events.” Cordray busied herself by snapping makeup compacts closed and stuffing everything back in her case. “He seemed excited about having kids before his calling started. But his thoughts shifted a few days ago, after we were already neck-deep in fucking each other twenty-four seven. It’s like when the reality hit him that he could be making a baby with all the semen he’s pumping into me he got cold feet. Now his mind is filled with second thoughts.” She threw a tube of eyeliner into her box with unceremonious aggression. “Hell, he’s beyond second thoughts. We’re talking third, fourth, and fifth thoughts, Sam.” She suddenly slumped forward. “I’m so tired.”

  This was not the Cordray Sam was used to, and she didn’t know how to respond.

  Cordray dropped into a nearby chair, arms slack, back soft, head hung. “I’m so fucking tired. We’ve been having sex nonstop for a week. I’m not sleeping. He’s not sleeping. If I knew he wanted a child, all the effort and sleep deprivation would be worth it. But knowing he’s changed his mind almost makes me feel . . .”

  “What?”

  She looked up, and blue fire churned in her sapphire eyes. “Resentful. I’m resentful, Sam.” She shot out of her chair and paced in the direction of the window. Anger seemed to give her strength. “You know, I’m scared too. Will I be a good mother? Will I fuck things up?” She turned and marched back toward Sam. But her eyes were focused in the middle, on the air between her and the floor, as she pumped her fist with every question as if she were punching a period at the end of every thought that spilled from her mouth. “Will becoming a mother change me? Will I lose my identity? What if I’m not mommy material? I was willing to take the risk, knowing Trace and I were in this together, but now . . .? With Trace having doubts? What am I supposed to do now? And I can’t talk to Trace about my fears, because he’s too wrapped up in his own. He already doesn’t want kids, so hearing me say I’m afraid of what having children will do to me will just spook him even more.”

  Most women would break down in tears if they were in Cordray’s shoes. Not Cordray. She got mad. To her, tears were a means to becoming a victim, and Cordray refused to be a victim. Anger led to action, and action was power.

  “But by keeping quiet,” Sam said, “you aren’t helping the situation. You’re denying your feelings to protect his.”

  Cordray stopped and frowned at her as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her that she was relegating herself to the background.

  Sam took advantage of the opening and took Cordray by the arms. “You’re a strong female, Cordray. The strongest I’ve ever met. I love Trace, but he can be a bonehead. All men can. Males, whatever.” Would a day ever come when she remembered to use the term males when referring to vampires? “The point is, males have one-track minds. They think with the head between their legs more than they think with the one above their shoulders, which leads to some really stupid decisions in the heat of the moment. Decisions they reconsider when the fucking is over. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Cordray stared at her, searching her eyes. Then she slowly nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  Sam huffed out an exhale of relief as she relaxed her hold on Cordray’s arms. “Good, then do something about it. Tell him how you feel. Yes, his feelings are important, but so are yours. Maybe hearing you tell him how much you want a baby despite your fears will make him realize how silly he’s being.”

  The lights flickered again, and they both glanced at the lamps.

  There was no mistaking the look of concern on Cordray’s face or the way her body tensed.

  “He’s hurting,” she said. “He needs me.” She pulled away.

  Even as angry as she was at him, she was still willing to answer his call when he needed her. Such was the connection between mates.

  Sam let go of her. “Then go to him. Talk to him. Then come back here and finish getting me ready.”

  Cordray stopped a few feet from the door as if she’d forgotten something, then turned halfway around and met Sam’s gaze with a look of determination. “Thank you, Sam.”

  “For what?”

  Cordray smiled. “For being such a cool bitch.”

  Sam laughed. Some women might take being called a bitch an insult, but Sam took the remark for the compliment it was meant to be.

  “Give me ten minutes,” Cordray said, rushing to the door again, where she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Maybe fifteen. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Just go. Take care of your mate.”

  Cordray grinned with renewed hope, then slipped out the door, leaving Sam alone with her thoughts and her reflection.

  She stared at herself. If only her parents could be there to see her. They were the only thing missing on an otherwise perfect night.

  Chapter 4

  Micah adjusted the sleeves of his tailored tuxedo, then straightened the lapels. He wasn’t one to wear monkey suits, but he had to admit he looked pretty fucking awesome. The cut on the jacket made his shoulders appear wider than they were and his waist look trimmer. Or maybe his shoulders and waist really were wider and trimmer and his normal threads made them look narrower and bulkier.

  He turned to the right and checked out his profile. To the left. Straight on. Okay, so maybe there was something to tailored clothes. This shit was sharp.

  “And the proud hunter, Narcissus, succumbed to the intrigue of Nemesis to gaze upon his own reflection in the pool, and he fell in love with himself and lost the will to live, staring at his own reflection until his death.” Arion stepped into the reflection and smirked good-naturedly. “How do you like your tux?”

  Arion came from rich blood. Aristocratic blood. And if King Bain was right, traitorous blood. Not that Ari had anything to do with that, because the sins of his father, Gregos, were not Ari’s sins to bear. Especially since Gregos had disowned Ari for mating Severin.

  Never a more homophobic vampire existed than Ari’s father, which meant Ari had no family now.

&n
bsp; Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Severin was his family. The two of them held enough love for each other to more than make up for the love Ari had lost when his parents disavowed him.

  But Ari’s past in the aristocracy made formal wear more his thing than Micah’s.

  Micah turned and held out his hand. “I take it you were in charge of the groom’s attire?”

  Ari took his hand. “And that of the groomsmen.”

  “You did awesome. This tux fits like a fucking glove.”

  Ari obviously intended only to shake Micah’s hand, but Micah pulled him into a hearty hug that caught Ari off guard.

  The two of them hadn’t always been close. Ari used to get on Micah’s last nerve on a daily basis. But those days were behind them. Ari had awakened to the truth about who he was, and Micah had become less of a prick since mating Sam, so the days of grating on each other like opposing sheets of sandpaper were behind them.

  They separated and Micah clapped Ari on the shoulder. “How are you, Ari? How you holdin’ up?”

  Even in the darker days of their relationship, Micah never would have wished on Ari what his father had done to him. The bastard. How do you wipe your own son from the family tree and pretend he never existed?

  Ari shrugged, looking as GQ as always in his navy blue three-piece suit. “I’m good, all things considered. You?” The male was the epitome of class and good looks. There were female hearts breaking all over Chicago now that Ari was off the market.

  “Better than ever.” No truer words had ever been spoken.

  He knew how lucky he was. For centuries, he’d lived with one foot in the grave. Always seeking death, but never fully finding it. Now he had not only Sam, but also his father, a brother, cousins, his uncle. Like Ari, he now had a family too. A real family.

  But he could also relate to the loss.

  “Your father is a grade-A asshole.” The words came out before Micah could stop them, but just the thought of what Gregos had done infuriated Micah beyond his ability to filter himself.

  Ari’s topaz eyes fell. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Micah eyed him. At one time, Ari had been an enforcer, but after mating Severin, he left AKM to become a bar musician and a music teacher. Now, he taught piano lessons and played in nightclubs, finally chasing his passion. But Micah could sense the restlessness in his thoughts. A part of Ari missed being an enforcer. He missed the action and camaraderie, especially now that he’d been disowned.

  Maybe Micah could use that inner turmoil to both their advantages.

  “How about this?” Micah took a step closer and lowered his voice. “What if I told you I knew of a way you could get back at your father for what he’s done to you?”

  Ari’s gaze shot to his, flaring with interest. Looked like Micah had struck pay dirt.

  “How?” Vengeance simmered just under Ari’s skin, hot and acrid, like smoldering wood.

  “I’m putting together a new team. Black ops. Total autonomy.”

  “What’s that got to do with Gregos?”

  The fact that Ari was calling his father by his given name rather than referring to him as “my father” spoke volumes about how he felt. Gregos may have disowned Ari first, but Ari hadn’t wasted any time returning the favor.

  “What if I told you that Bain wants the team to investigate him?”

  “Why? What did he do?”

  Micah glanced side to side. “Bain suspects Gregos and Ulrich Fenton—you know, your ex-fiancée’s father—of treason.”

  Ari’s eyebrows rose. “Really now?” One brow arched, and a devilish smirk twisted his mouth. “How interesting.” Micah could see his wheels beginning to turn. “Go on.”

  “Do you think your father is capable of treason?”

  Ari snorted. “He disowned me. He’s capable of anything.”

  “But why would he commit treason?”

  Ari shrugged and rubbed his fingers over his mouth. “I don’t know. I’m not saying he doesn’t have a hundred different reasons, I just don’t know which one it could be.”

  “You want to help us find out? And help take him down if he’s guilty?”

  Everything stopped. The air pumping in and out of Ari’s lungs. The way his fingers rubbed back and forth on his chin. The subtle way he’d been shifting his weight from foot to foot.

  The only movement came from the thoughts racing through his mind, almost too fast for Micah to catch. But one thought burst through all the others, ringing loud and clear.

  “Fuck yes. I want that bastard to pay.” Ari almost sounded turned on.

  “You sure?”

  “Are you kidding? After what he’s done to me?”

  Not only had Gregos disowned Ari, but he’d written him out of his will, taken back his BMW, sold his home out from under him, including all the furnishings, and shamed him to the entire aristocracy when he announced that the mating he’d arranged between Ari and Ulrich’s daughter, Persephone, had been called off. If Micah remembered correctly, Gregos’s exact words were, “Arion has chosen to abandon his duties as my son by taking up sexual relations with another male, so there will be no mating.” As if Ari’s mating to Sev had been a choice, something within his control.

  “So,” Ari said, “are you inviting me to join your team?”

  “What team?” Severin joined them, wrapping his arm around Ari’s waist. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey.” Ari pecked him on the lips. “Micah was just telling me about the new black ops team he’s putting together.”

  Severin arched one brow as he cocked his head at Micah. “Black ops team? When did this happen?”

  “Last week.”

  “Why are you talking to my mate about it?” Defensive undertones sharpened Sev’s words.

  “Cool off, blondie. It’s not what you think.”

  Ari placed his hand against Sev’s chest as if preparing to hold him back. “He was asking if I want to help entrap Gregos.”

  Sev’s eyes flew open wide. “He what? Hell no, Ari. You’re not going to go anywhere near your asshole fath—”

  “I said yes.”

  Sev stared at Ari like he’d betrayed him. “Ari . . .”

  “I’m doing this, Sev. I have to.”

  Sev glared from Ari to Micah. “Damn you, Micah. He’s already been through enough with that prick. We don’t want anything to do with whatever you’ve got planned.”

  Ari pushed Sev’s arm away. “Stop trying to protect me, Sev.”

  Micah didn’t know what button he’d pushed, but apparently this wasn’t the first go-round these two had had over what Gregos had done.

  “Maybe I should let you two talk.” Micah started to back away, but Ari stopped him.

  “No. Not until you answer my question.”

  “What question was that?”

  “Are you asking me to join your team?”

  Sev stared dumbfounded at him as if he couldn’t understand what Ari was saying.

  “Uh . . .” Micah glanced between them. “I was thinking this would be more of a temporary arrangement.” He watched Ari’s reaction carefully, but his expression remained steady. “Because I know you retired from enforcing.”

  “But what you’re doing isn’t enforcing. This is a special team.”

  “True, but I figured you were happy doing the music thing.”

  Ari’s veneer cracked. “I am, but . . .”

  “But what?” Sev asked, a scowl on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re not happy, Ari. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your goddamn mind after all the plans we’ve made.”

  Ari met Sev’s gaze as if he were being weighed down by bags of sand. About a hundred of them. “I don’t know, Sev. I don’t know what I want.” Ari’s gaze swiveled to Micah’s. “The one thing I do know is that I want to bring my bastard father down. As for the rest, we’ll see.”

  Sev shook his head and took a backward step as he glared from Ari to Micah and back. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this, but whatever.”
He batted his hand dismissively as he began to turn away. “Maybe next time you’ll decide to fill me in first before you go making plans that affect both of us.” He marched off and out of the ballroom.

  Ari stared after him, then sighed. “Don’t worry about Sev. He’s just being protective, and my father is his hot button. He’ll come around.”

  “Maybe you should go talk to him.”

  “I will, but first”—Ari took a step closer and lowered his voice—”count me in. I’ll do whatever it takes to make my father suffer. Not just because of what he’s done to me, but for what he’s done to both of us, to Sev and me. I need to take a stand, if not for myself, for my mate. I can’t just sit on the sidelines doing nothing when I know there’s something I can do to obtain justice.”

  Micah clasped his hand again and gave him a quick one-armed hug. “I’ll be in touch with more details. Now, go talk to Severin. And tell him when I have the team’s first meeting, I’ll want him there too.”

  “Will do.” Ari hustled after Sev, dodging chairs and tables as he maneuvered toward the exit.

  Maybe it hadn’t been pretty, but that was one more checkmark on his to-do list. Arion was on board. So was Trace. Hopefully, Severin would be too.

  The team was coming along, but now he needed to turn his attention to the matter at hand.

  He checked his watch. It wouldn’t be long now, and he could add husband to his growing list of titles.

  So, where the hell was Trace?

  The lights flickered.

  Ah, hell. Not again.

  Chapter 5

  Cordray found Trace in the restroom down the hall from Bain’s office. He was crouched against the wall, facing away from the door. The waist of his jeans was wrapped around his knees, and his hand was between his legs, pumping relentlessly as the lights flickered again.

  As the door quietly clicked shut behind her, his head tilted back abruptly, and he sniffed the air. A groan broke from his throat a split second before his head swung around.

  Glowing yellow eyes locked onto hers, and a growl rumbled in his chest.

  “Trace . . .” she whispered, taking a step toward him.