“Calm down, Red,” Devon said, holding her in his lap even as she tried to extract herself. What a curious and wonderfully intimate position they’d found themselves in, but she still didn’t know where they stood. Not to mention the creepy fainting thing that had just happened.
“You didn’t drink too much. And for the record, I also didn’t drink too much,” he said, smiling cheekily. “We’re just that good together.” He pulled Alexia in close, and the feel of him fully erect against her brought her fried nerve endings back to life in a kaleidoscope of pleasure/pain receptors. Damnit, but he was right. They were so good together. Too good together. He could crush her heart worse than Nicky ever had. Not to mention, she was supposed to be trying to save herself.
“You don’t even like me,” she said, without feeling. He obviously did like her – a lot. If their recent conversations, his being here for her, and their shared blacked-the-fucked-out orgasm were anything to go by.
“Now, Red, you know that’s not true. I’m fuckin’ halfway in love with you,” he said and continued talking despite Alexia’s indrawn breath of shock. “I apologized weeks ago for my attitude that first night. I was a dick. I know that. And not the good kind. My dick is good.” He paused, laughing at his joke. But he was right. His dick did feel good. “But Red, I’ve seen so many Skröm…” He took a breath and his face became serious. “Alexia, I’ve seen what the Skröm can do. They’ve done horrible things, killed good people, killed my people.”
He paused again, and she let him have that moment. He’d experienced great pain in his lifetime, and some of that pain was because of the Skröm. He wasn’t saying these things to tear her down. He was saying these things to make a point, and her Midnight was good at getting to the heart of the matter.
“I brought a man with me to meet you – a good man. He’s lived over a hundred years, and he lost his mate sixteen years ago in an attack by the Skröm – his mate who’d been by his side for over fifty years. They tore her apart while he watched and he couldn’t have saved her. I’m sure he’s worked through every situation over and over again about how he might have done things differently, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Skröm are strong. They’re smart. They’re calculating and powerful. But I’ve met a few Skröm who’ve had me questioning whether they’re all like that. Ginny Zolanski and her uncle, the Clan Councilor, Roman Zolanski… They’re different. And still, even they couldn’t have prepared me for you…”
“And what do you see in me that’s any different?” Alexia was fishing. She hated fishing for compliments, but she needed to know what he thought. She needed to have someone believe there was good in her.
“I see a woman on the cusp of changes she has no idea are only a part of who she is. They aren’t all. She has been, and always will be, good. She has been, and always will be, strong. She has been, and always will be, courageous and brave and capable. She has been and always will be powerful. And I see her on the edge of discovering the truth in those words, the truth about herself, and I can’t wait.” He said this all with such passion that Alexia let go of the tears, which had started seeping from her eyes. “I can’t fucking wait for her to see herself as she’s always been to those who love her – loving, giving, good, beautiful, strong, and courageous. Because you are all those things, Red. You are. All. Those. Things.” Devon punctuated each word and pulled her in close as the tears streamed down her pale cheeks.
“Asshole,” she whispered.
“Seriously?” he asked, but he laughed.
“Yes, seriously. How am I supposed to not forgive you now?” Alexia blew out a breath and looked at him as she wiped her tear stained, splotchy, super messy face on her shirt sleeve. She’d been trying so hard to not succumb to her feelings. She’d been holding on to that moment when he’d treated her like a monster. Anything to keep her from drowning, from falling for the Man Bear in front of her. “You’re a jackass.” His face lit up. She watched him as he threw his head back, and he broke into a full-bellied laugh. And she thought, Forget forgiveness… How am I supposed to not fall in love with you now?
His laughter quieted as she continued to watch him, peace and contentment settling inside of her at the change in their dynamic. His large palm moved to her face, then to the back of her head, as he slowly pulled her toward him. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but moved in closer as well until their foreheads touched. They sat like that for several minutes, breathing, forehead to forehead.
She placed her hand on his heart, letting the rhythm bring her to an even deeper level of serenity.
“The dreams, Red…” Devon said. “I’ve got to ask…”
“You saw?” How had he seen? She knew he had of course, had felt his presence in her mind a couple times now, but how?
“It’s a bond thing,” he said, but he didn’t elaborate. “The night we first connected…” His voice trailed off. She’d known they were strange. In truth, the fact that she’d realized he was Midnight had terrified her that first night. And she told him as much.
“I was scared at first, when I realized you were the same man from my dreams, but I just thought it was a Clan thing, that it was another freaky power.” She didn’t ask a question outright, but at the same time, she let the statement sit between them. And then, “What do you mean a bond thing? Because we’re both Clan and because we shared blood?” she asked.
“Kind of—” He hesitated.
She pulled her forehead back from his, but kept her hand on his heart.
However, she didn’t get an answer, and she didn’t get to find out if her Midnight dreams were something unusual or just another side effect of her Clan heritage making itself known, because her motel room door burst open right at that very second, and everyone she’d ever met stood in her dingy hideout. Fuck, but her life was turning into a goddamned rodeo.
“Ana?”
James Freeman hadn’t known what this trip would bring, but he hadn’t ever thought he’d see Lilyana – or Ana as he’d called her – Zoranski again. It wasn’t her, of course. Ana had died almost twenty-five years earlier. He knew that for a fact.
The twins, Ben and Carrie, along with Tessa, Reece, and two others followed behind him, but he only had eyes for the young woman in front of him. James made his way closer to the couple who were now standing near the couch.
James was almost within arms-length of the couple – it was a small room – before he noticed Devon’s eyes shimmer to an animal black and his face elongate and transform.
“Don’t come any closer, James, Reece,” Devon said, looking to the others in the room. James had almost forgotten about them all. He was too busy looking at the face of a ghost. “I don’t want to hurt any of you, but me and my bear – we aren’t liking the current numbers. There are too many of you in here.” Devon’s voice was muffled by his shift, but he held the same dark, room-bending power he had always held. A power that showed he had been born a leader and a protector, and right now, all that protection was for the young woman who looked way too much like his Ana to be a coincidence.
He should have known Devon was in love with the girl – his protective instincts, the secrets James had known he’d been keeping. The young man couldn’t lie. But damn it, the girl looked just like his Ana.
James looked back at her, and he could feel his eyes glazing over with tears before he could help himself.
Her high, regal cheekbones, her thin nose with the tilt to it that James had always loved, and her small bow-like lips a dark shade of red he’d only ever seen on his Lilyana. But where Ana had been tall, willowy, and almost fragile-looking, this girl was short, robust and strong. And her hair was a riot of curls. Skröm typically had straight, red hair.
“Ana,” he said again, this time louder, and even he could hear the shock and confusion. She was Ana’s. There was no doubt in his mind. But how? “I don’t know how, but you’re Ana’s daughter, aren’t you?” The young woman gave him a strange look and came forward from behind Devon.
She touched the rabid bear’s back in comfort and shushed him with affection – so much like Ana used to do for his wolf. Even her voice, a melodic, sing-song, was Lilyana’s. Devon never once took his eyes off of James, but the young woman trusted her mate – Jesus, mate. Fated mate, his senses told him. This young man, the man he had helped raise, had a Skröm as a fated mate. James knew how that story ended. He’d lived it. He wanted to hate the young woman who looked so much like his Ana, but all he could feel was heartache and pain at what they would have to go through.
“I don’t know who my mother was. Did you know her?” The young woman’s voice was hopeful, yet cautious. She didn’t know her mother’s story. She didn’t know about the Zoranski family, and he didn’t want to have to be the one to tell her about her own flesh and blood. Flesh and blood. James took a breath. Though, as Skröm went, Roman and Ginny Zolanski and their Clan had tried to do better, had tried to rise above their natures.
“I did. I knew her. But who was your father?” he asked, curiously. He had to have known the man or beast as the case might be. And then, he realized he hadn’t even introduced himself and he was asking this young woman a load of personal questions. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Name’s James. I didn’t catch yours.”
“James…” she said thoughtfully, and reached out her hand tentatively to shake his. “Devon’s talked a lot about you. I never knew my father,” Alexia said, and there was a loneliness there that broke James’ heart. “My name’s Alexia. Alexia Maria Garda-Martinez. Garda from my first adoptive mother, Mally, and Martinez for my adoptive family. I was born Alexia Maria, though.”
James went pale. He recognized those names.
“Everyone out,” James said in a fierce voice he hadn’t known he had left in him. He’d protected his people for years now, but he hadn’t had the power in his voice – the power Devon always seemed to have – for years. No one questioned his statement. Behind him, he heard Ben, Carrie, Tessa and even Reece start to back up.
“Ummm, no. We aren’t leaving with these strangers while you do whatever you’re planning on doing to my best friend!” exclaimed Mindy, who he’d met outside. James reluctantly tore his gaze from Devon and the Skröm at his side. Alexia Maria. Now that his wolf was at the surface, he’d sensed something else. He looked at a beautiful Indian woman who now stood in the room, and he felt currents of power course along his spine, something only the Vuković could do. Other than their preternatural strength, it was what made them useful in a fight. He knew the young woman was loyal to Alexia, so he didn’t take offense at her outburst.
“Mindy,” her mate, Cam, warned in a low whisper.
“No,” James said. “She doesn’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me either. You have a powerful and protective mate, young man. That’s a gift.” James felt wistful as he walked toward Mindy. He could feel her power pouring off of her, and he gently touched her hand, showing her and her mate that he was no threat. He didn’t touch her with too much skin. With the amount of power James felt from her, he knew she’d be knocked on her ass by his emotions and his own abilities. He wouldn’t do that to the young woman. Plus, her mate would probably try and kill him. “You feel that?” She shook her head yes, and there were tears in her eyes.
“Are you sure?” she asked, and her mate looked at her strangely, questioningly. The look of a man who didn’t have a damn clue. Good God, the secrets in this room, James thought, shaking his. One secret at a time.
“I’m sure,” he replied. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
“The hair... The body... Yes, you’re right. That’s Maria.” She nodded her head one more time and took Cam’s hand. James had to give Mindy’s mate, and Devon’s brother, credit. The man looked angry. The man looked confused. But Cam was also a man who trusted his instincts, and he must have seen something on James’ face or in Mindy’s eyes, because he followed the young woman and James’ people out of the room. The click of the door closing felt louder than it should have, but James was on high alert. Ana’s daughter. Here. All this time.
“You going to share, James? I’m thinking we’re done with the secrets now, aren’t we?” Devon’s voice was harsh, and James turned around just in time to see the young woman, Alexia Maria, give Devon a swat across the back of his head. It had been quite a feat for the short woman, but she’d managed it beautifully. James smiled with pride. Strong and fierce like her mother.
“Don’t mind him, Alexia Maria. He’s just protecting his mate,” James said, chuckling. It had been so long since he’d laughed like that, and it felt good to let the laughter roll up from his belly and out. He noticed the strange look from Devon as the young man sat down with Alexia on the couch. Yes, it had been too long since he had truly laughed. James pulled the chair up near the couch.
“Mate?” Alexia whispered before moving her scrutiny from James back to Devon. A new warmth entered her gaze, but a wariness lived there as well.
“Thanks, James,” Devon said, scowling. “I was gonna ease her into it.”
“Shit! I’m sorry, Devon,” James said, sighing. “I just assumed – well, you’re both so protective of each other.”
“Don’t apologize.” Alexia looked over at James with compassion. “We hadn’t really gotten that far. To the m-mating thing—” She cut off her statement and blushed, and so much of her mother was in her that James had to turn away. Her mother had had the best blush. Of course, her blush had been a little different. Ana hadn’t had any sense of human propriety, and embarrassment was more closely related to her confusion over the human customs rather than the reverse that Alexia was experiencing.
“All right, then,” James said, clearing his throat. “I don’t know how to start this. How to say what I need to say, so I’m just going come out and say it.”
Devon looked at Alexia and they held each other’s gaze for a minute, an almost silent conversation taking place as he drew her in closer to his side. She tried to pull away, probably thinking she was being rude showing her affection in front of others. How very human, James thought. Ana had never had those ‘human’ tendencies. Her Skröm culture had always been strong. Devon held Alexia more tightly and gave her a kiss on her forehead before both of them looked to James.
“In answer to your earlier question. Yes, I knew your mother. I met Lilyana Zoranski when I was twenty-eight years old, and I knew right away she was my fated mate.” James heard Devon’s intake of breath. There were two reasons for that breath, and James wasn’t keen on sharing either reasons, but Alexia needed the truth. “Of course, she was also a Skröm, and that didn’t start off well.” James chuckled at the memory…
James was a cocky twenty-eight-year-old bastard the night he walked into Stealth. He’d been to the Clan club several times before, and he loved the freedom he felt at being able to let his inner wolf run free there. His father had expectations for him and his two younger brothers, but in the club, he wasn’t James Vuković. No, when he walked into a Clan club, he was James Taylor. He didn’t have to fight the Skröm. He didn’t have to learn how to be a Vuković Councilor – even though that’s who he’d be someday. His middle brother would be his second someday. But not that night. That night, he was at Stealth.
The thing about Clan clubs was that they were neutral territory. Light and Dark Clans danced together, drank together, and no one asked questions. There were strict rules about what could and could not happen, though. Humans weren’t allowed. Skröm couldn’t feed or kill. Light Clans couldn’t hunt. And the club territory extended beyond the club walls. If a Skröm killed or a Light Clan member killed a Dark Clan member within the area of the club, the club owner had the right to protect his or her business. It wasn’t done often, but the club owner was allowed to kill someone who broke the law. The Councilors had made this pact hundreds of years earlier to protect the clubs, which were needed as a way to keep their inhuman urges under wraps.
James loved the pulsing beat of the music. The tragic darkness of the melodic tones that
followed him as he walked into Stealth. Stealth wasn’t all that different than other Clan clubs, except it was one of the only clubs owned by a Skröm. But Ginny Zolanski wasn’t just any Skröm. She was the cousin of the Skröm Councilor, Roman Zolanski, and she was said to be rather tame for a Skröm. In fact, it was rumored that she didn’t kill and that Roman fed only on criminals. That she loved humans and wanted peace between the Clans. Considering the fact that Roman Zolanski had already tried to tame and control the Skröm without much success, and the Dark Clan of Skröm killed without discretion, James didn’t see that peace happening. He’d talked to Ginny about her idealistic goals before, but at twenty-three, she was a natural optimist. When he called her on her Disney Princess view of the world, she just smiled a secret smile as though he were the one who was naïve.
As the beat followed him, James made his way to the bar. He let his wolf out enough to take over his movements, to stretch his skin a bit, but that was all. He wanted his human skin tonight. He’d come for one thing. The one most of their kind came to these clubs for – to let go of their other side with other Clan members. To be free. To be an animal. Shit, he was an honest man. He was there to have some fucktastic sex.
He dragged his shirt off as he made his way to the bar, and his wolf prowled from right beneath his skin – waiting, more tense than usual, but James didn’t care. High tension meant better sex. He noticed several Skröm waiting for drinks and even a few men and women from the Light Clans. This was a club for one and all, but the Skröm still sat separately. James looked their way tonight. His gaze had been drawn there without thought, which was unsettling to him because he’d never looked to a Skröm to release his wolf with. He couldn’t see himself fucking a woman he’d have to most likely kill someday. The Vuković Clan had always been on the front lines of the fight against the Skröm and the Others because the Vuković were the only Clan able to match those made from the Dark in physical strength.
The Devil's Pride (Wild Beasts Series) Page 19