by Kian Rhodes
“Basilisks are real?” Paul asked incredulously.
I nodded again.
“That’s why you were able to freeze that prick that grabbed me,” he said slowly. “And my stepmother.”
“Technically, I partially turned them to stone, but yes,” I admitted, still watching him closely.
“Wow.” Paul was staring at me in amazement. “Will they die?”
This time the chuckle broke free. “Eventually, but not because of what I did.”
Paul’s eyes widened and then he realized what I meant and he laughed, too. “You’re such a jerk,” he huffed, shoving me gently. “So, what happens after you turn someone to stone?”
“It depends,” I said with a sigh. “If the transformation is complete, they die. If it’s only the first layer of muscle like I did to those two and your father, it actually wears off after a day or two. They’ll feel like they were run over by a truck but they won’t have any real damage.”
Paul’s mouth dropped. “You got the Senator, too?”
I winced. “Yeah, I meant to tell you about that when you were feeling better,” I hedged, standing up to retrieve a large manila envelope from the kitchen counter. I watched as Paul opened it, nodding with understanding as he read the enclosed document.
“Why did he bring the parental rights waiver if he was going to try and kill us?”
“No clue,” I admitted. “And I didn’t really bother to stick around once I knew you were hurt. I turned him and booked. Rafael stayed to make sure that they survived, but I haven’t heard from him. So, I have to assume all is good.”
Paul cocked his head, but when his next question came, it was on an entirely different topic.
“You said you didn’t want any secrets, but you never did tell me why such an amazing Alpha was still available when ODI needed your help,” he said.
I drew in a deep breath, suddenly wondering if it was really better to flay myself wide open than it was to give in and distract him with sex, but from the glint in Paul’s eyes, I was pretty sure we’d just be circling back to the question once the endorphins had worn off. One more deep breath and then I started talking.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter
Sylas
“How much do you know about dragons?” I asked, trying to gauge where to start.
Paul shrugged. “Not much, I guess,” he admitted, scrunching his face. “You know, other than they’re big and fly and breathe fire.”
I held in a laugh. “Okay, they also live a lot longer than humans.”
“Oh, yeah,” Paul agreed. “I guess I did know that.”
“Okay, well Basilisks are actually kind of an ancestor of dragons. They evolved from us.” Paul’s eyes widened but he didn’t speak, so I continued. “We live even longer than dragons do,” I sighed. “I’m over seven hundred years old and that isn’t really even considered middle-aged.”
Paul cocked his head in that way he had that said he had a question and I waited for it.
“How old, exactly?”
I shrugged sheepishly. “I’m not exactly sure, to be honest. I lost track a long time ago. I usually have to pull out my medical file and do the math.”
Paul nodded, signaling his acceptance of the answer and I moved on.
“I have taken two mates in that time,” I continued. “The first was another Basilisk when I was just over one hundred. His name was Jafari and he was killed in the Human-Shifter war.” I smiled when Paul reached over to stroke my arm, a sympathetic frown on his lips. “It’s okay. I’ve long since come to terms with the fact that he died for a cause we believed in.”
I drew in a deep breath, the more recent history much more painful for me. “Then there was a human female, Laura, that I met about twenty years ago, around the same time that I met Chuck.”
“She was smart and beautiful and I quickly fell in love with her. She was a shifter herself, a wolf, and she knew I was a shifter also, but I never actually told her what kind,” I admitted. “We’d been married for two years when she found out that she was carrying twins.” I exhaled sharply, trying to keep my emotions in check. “That was a huge shock for two reasons.”
“Because she was a wolf?” Paul guessed.
I snorted. “That was the first one. It shouldn’t have even been physically possible for a warm-blooded shifter to catch from a reptilian species. The second was that even within our species, Basilisk are notoriously low breeders.”
“Like dragons.”
I nodded. “Exactly. A pregnancy occurring without medical intervention is exceedingly rare.”
Paul’s hand stroked down my arm, his fingers wrapping around mine with a gentle squeeze. “We don’t have to do this,” he said softly.
“Thanks,” I muttered appreciatively, “but I think we really do.” I laid my hand over his, cupping his fingers between my hands. “Anyway, I was working in my office one day when the entire office building was taken over by terrorists, segregationists who believed that humans and shifters shouldn’t be allowed to live side by side.”
I closed my eyes and was immediately assaulted by the terrible images from that day. The acrid smell of smoke, the terrified screams. “Most of the other shifters working in the building were wolves, so they’d armed themselves with silver bullets, knowing that even if the wounds didn’t kill the wolves, it would keep them from shifting. Then, they went office by office, shooting everyone they came across.”
I took another deep breath. “I got lucky and the bullet just grazed my temple, knocking me out. When I came to, we’d been dragged down to the basement. They barricaded the door and set the building on fire.”
Paul gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. “Your wife?” he asked weakly.
I shook my head. “No. She was at a doctor’s appointment. Her death wasn’t the fault of the terrorists. It was completely my fault.”
I could see Paul wanted to argue even though he didn’t have all the facts yet, so I squeezed his hand. “Let me finish, okay?”
He nodded silently.
“The only way out was a tiny window that was nearly fifteen feet high. Like I said, most of the shifters were wolves, so the silver kept the wounded from being able to shift and escape through it.”
“But you didn’t have that problem,” Paul guessed.
“No,” I agreed. “And the window wasn’t exactly a challenge for me. I broke through it, ripping a hole in the wall as I forced my way out. Then, I brought the other victims out in my mouth, several at a time until all of the survivors were free.”
“By that time, there were news crews everywhere,” I continued. “So, it wasn’t really that shocking when I found out that one had caught me shifting back into human form.”
When I tried to force the next words out, they stuck, swelling and ballooning until my entire craw was clogged. I took a large swallow from my water. “When I got home, I found her body,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “She left a note calling me a monster, telling me that her death was my fault for planting my demon seed in her under false pretenses. They were dead because of what I am.”
“Oh, Sylas,” Paul gasped, “No!” He pulled his hand from mine and climbed into my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. “Oh, honey, no,” he repeated, pressing his face to my neck and holding me tight. “You know that’s not true, right? Tell me you know better,” Paul begged, dropping kisses everywhere he could reach. “You’re not a monster, Sylas. You’re a hero.” He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “You’re my hero, Alpha. Mine and Bun’s. I can’t even imagine how horrible that was for you.”
Wrung out from reliving the worst moments of an exceptionally long lifetime, I barely noticed when Paul climbed off my lap and tugged me to my feet to lead me to the bedroom.
“It’s my turn to take care of you, Alpha,” Paul murmured, reaching for the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head. Once we were both naked, Paul gently shoved me into the bed and crawled after me, cradl
ing my head to his chest as he whispered sweet words that I couldn’t quite discern. He began to stroke my hair and something inside me snapped, tears flooded down my cheeks to drip down my sweet Omega’s tummy.
It was another first for me. I’d mourned the loss of my family so many years ago and I’d cried for them, but this time, I knew the tears were for me.
Chapter Forty
Paul
The way that Sylas lost his family was absolutely horrific and I felt terrible for forcing him to relive the nightmare just because I’d been bored. Honestly, I knew that I would have never pushed him if I’d had even an inkling of how terrible the story was, but that wouldn’t change the fact that I’d once again been acting childish and selfish and it had bitten someone else in the ass. Par for the course in my life’s decisions. As I’d held the selfless Alpha against my body in the dark that night, I’d given myself a stern talking to. I’d been all too willing to take and take everything Sylas had offered since he’d stepped in to be my hero and it was time for me to give back, I decided. Starting first thing in the morning, I’d committed to standing up on my own and showing Sylas that I could take care of myself. At the very least, I’d be able to give him some sort of breather if I wasn’t clinging to him constantly. I was still formulating a plan to put into action when sleep overtook me.
~*~
“Paul?”
I was already finishing up preparing breakfast when I heard Sylas call for me. He’d slept much later than usual, giving me the perfect opportunity to put operation on my own two feet into action.
“In the kitchen,” I called back, wiping my hands on the dishtowel tucked into the waistband of my pants and reaching for a clean coffee cup.
“Is everything okay?” Sylas’s sleep-rough voice sent a delicious shiver down my spine. I gave myself a minute to feast my eyes on his nearly naked form.
“Yep, fine,” I agreed with a smile. “Since you’re always feeding me, I thought I’d take the opportunity to fix you some breakfast.”
“Oh, thanks,” Sylas sounded confused but smiled warmly as he accepted the coffee I handed him. “I missed having you in bed when I woke up.” He sipped from his coffee and gave an appreciative groan. “Why didn’t you wake me up for your morning treatment?”
I laughed at his veiled reference to the way he took care of my morning wood nearly every day. “You were tired,” I pointed out. “And I have two good hands so I took care of it in the shower.”
“I see.” Sylas smiled again but there was something missing. He drained his coffee in a few swallows and stepped past me to rinse the cup and place it in the dishwasher. “I guess I better hit the shower myself.”
Before I could ask what was wrong, I heard the bedroom door close and I was alone again with the pile of bacon and bowl of scrambled eggs. Shaking my head, I dished a plate for myself and then covered the rest, hoping it would stay warm until Sylas finished his shower. When he re-entered the kitchen a short time later, he was fully dressed.
“Ready for some food?” I offered, rising to fix him a plate.
“Oh, no, but thank you.” Sylas said easily with another of those smiles that just seemed off, reaching for the basket that held his wallet and keys. “I’ve got something I need to take care of this morning and I’m already running late.”
“But..” I trailed off when Sylas left the room, closing the front door carefully behind him. I dropped back into my seat and shook my head. “What was that all about?”
I finished my breakfast and tidied up the kitchen, stowing the leftovers in the fridge even though I really wasn’t sure that eggs reheated well. Restless, I wandered into the bedroom only to find that Sylas had already made the bed and even picked up the clothes I’d dropped on the floor the night before. Frowning, I resolved to add do a better job of picking up after myself to my resolution from the night before.
I watered the basket of birthday plants still blooming cheerfully on the dresser and was about to collect my dirty clothes to put in a load of laundry when a small folder on my nightstand caught my eye. Opening it, I found a temporary checkbook for the new investment account in my name along with instructions to contact Drey to set up the debit card and finalize the account. Shrugging to myself, I headed out to the living room to make the call. After all, it wasn’t as if I really had anything more demanding on my schedule.
Sitting on the sofa with the check register, I stared at the colossal opening balance in disbelief. I had unlimited access to enough money that there was literally nothing I couldn’t do – within reason, of course.
Enough money that there wasn’t any reason for me to be mooching off of Sylas and taking advantage of his generosity instead of simply buying a place of my own before I was too pregnant to get everything settled.
Instead of excitement, a sliver of dread wound through me at the thought of leaving the man who had stepped up to take care of me when he had no obligation to. Which, I told myself firmly, was exactly the reason that I needed to move on and free him from that commitment. After all, as far as I knew I wasn’t in any danger from my asshole father or his family any longer.
Drawing in a deep breath, I dialed the phone number listed for Drey and waited nervously until a crisp, polite female voice announced that I had reached the law offices of Haldrian Christof. He was out of the office, she explained. Did I want to leave a message?
I hung my head for a split second before shaking it off and explaining the reason for my call. Reassured that he would be informed as soon as he returned, I tossed my cell phone onto the cushion beside me with a sigh.
Overcome by a sudden wave of melancholy, I gave up on the whole strong on my own persona and gave in, letting the tears drip down my cheeks to soak my jeans as I cried.
Chapter Forty-One
Sylas
“Sy?” Drey looked up from his cell phone in confusion. “Did something happen with Paul and you?”
I swallowed and kept my eyes on my nearly untouched plate. “Not exactly,” I hedged. “I told him about my history, though.” When Drey didn’t respond, I looked up and caught him watching me with a concerned look. “Why?”
“He left a message with my receptionist asking for a referral to a real estate agent to help him buy a townhome or condo.”
I forced myself not to react. “Bad investment in this area,” I muttered, stabbing at the potatoes on my plate. “No real resale value. You should suggest a single-family home, instead.”
“Should I?” Drey sounded mildly amused. “Why is he moving out?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t tell me he was,” I admitted, “but I guess that means he’s probably ready to get divorced, too. Can you draw the papers up?”
Drey cocked a brow at me. “The message doesn’t say anything about that.”
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Drey frowned. “I guess. I feel like there’s more going on than just this, though.”
“Not really,” I lied. No longer hungry, I shoved my plate away. “Anyway, let’s get back to the reason we’re here.”
“Yeah, sure,” Drey agreed with a sympathetic smile. “Chuck forwarded me the intake forms from when Paul was placed at Omega Destiny, International. There are enough inconsistencies on them to bring fraud charges against Senator Davis. That combined with his apparent involvement in the kidnapping will be more than enough to bring to the District Attorney to have him prosecuted. Do you want to press charges or do you need to talk to Paul first?”
I considered that and then nodded. If Paul was ready to move on from me, I needed to be sure he didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder. “Have them hit him with everything we can.”
“Will do,” Drey agreed, a slight frown knitting his brows together. “Is there anything I can do?”
I shook my head. “Just help me get this cleaned up so that he never has to fear that prick again, Drey. That way he can move on with his life.”
“Okay.” Drey shoved his own empty plate away.
“I’ll put together everything I can and forward it to the DA’s office, then they’ll call to confirm that you want to press charges.”
“Great.” I stood and tossed a few bills on the table. “Thanks for all your help.”
I was already pulling out of the parking lot when I realized I hadn’t bothered to wait for his response. I thumbed out a text apologizing for my quick exit, followed by another one telling Paul that I wouldn’t be home until late and then I turned my phone off and turned the truck to the north.
The drive to the graveyard took about three hours and the sun was high in the sky when I pulled to a stop at the ancient, wrought-iron gate. Leaving the truck outside the rusty fence, I started along the overgrown path, stooping to pull chunks of weeds and grass that had forced their way up through the cracking concrete of the walking path. Making a mental note to complain to the groundskeeper about the state of the burial, I made my way to the peaceful hilltop mausoleum that had been set aside for my family when the five-hundred year old cemetery had first opened. The stone building was covered in decades of ivy but even under a layer of grime the ornate stained-glass window still sparkled in the sun.
Pulling the antique key from my pocket, I flinched against the familiar groan of metal on metal as the door inched open, mentally chastising myself for once again forgetting the oil I kept meaning to bring. Once it was open, I hesitated another long moment to allow the blinding sunlight a chance to scare off any bugs or small rodents that may have made their way inside.
One by one, I stroked my fingers over the dusty, burnished-gold coffins of my ancestors, murmuring a blessing as old as my species as I passed each one, stopping when I reached the last of the three-tiered mahogany shelves and the single gold urn the middle shelf held in place of the ornate matching coffins that filled the rest of the crypt.
Inscribed with my deceased wife’s birth and death dates, there were additional notations beneath her name to indicate the two unnamed children that had been taken from me when their mother killed herself.