I shook my head in protest, despite the fact that he probably had a point. The thing was, on one front Marcus had to be wrong. “Look, if Krane really wanted to kill us, he could have come crashing through Tristan’s penthouse window easily enough the other night,” I said, shuddering with the recollection of the beast flying at me through the dark a few evenings earlier. I’d found myself frozen in place, captivated by his daunting presence. Krane’s dragon form had been utterly terrifying, yet inexplicably alluring. As long as I lived, I’d never forget those piercing blue eyes glowing bright in the dark, surrounded by a coat of jet-black, armor-like scale that reflected the moonlight like the beast was made of polished steel.
The dragon was the stuff of nightmares. A monster.
Still, as much as he’d frightened me, the fact remained that the monster hadn’t hurt me when he’d had the chance. Maybe I was being naive, but something told me that he’d only wanted to reveal himself to my eyes, to let me know he was real.
The question, of course, was why?
“He wanted to scare me, that’s all,” I said, struggling to draw some logical conclusion to explain his sudden appearance. “He was probably just amusing himself. Maybe he wanted to see what his brother’s new lady friend looks like.”
Marcus blew his lips out in a pfft sound, like he didn’t believe my theory for a second.
Yeah, I’m not sure I’m buying my bullshit either, buddy, I thought.
The truth was, I had no clue what Tristan’s sibling was really up to. I knew he was capable of killing. I knew he and Tristan didn’t get along, despite their shared blood bond. Still, I couldn’t entirely shake the feeling that Krane couldn’t be all bad. Not if he was Tristan’s brother. There had to be some humanity in him, some last vestige of goodness.
How could he possibly be a total psycho when his brother was the sworn protector of New York?
“Besides,” I added, hoping to change the direction of the increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “I can’t tell Tristan about him, at least not yet. The Midsummer Ball is tomorrow, remember? I don’t want to ruin it by bringing up the K-word. Just give me a couple of days, then I’ll sit him down for a serious talk.”
Marcus leveled me with a glare that somehow managed to increase my guilt tenfold. “Now you’re just making excuses,” he said. “Trust me, Ari, I know how this shit works. If you don’t tell him and he finds out on his own, things will get way worse. He’ll think you lied to him.” He took a last swig of the beer in his hand before adding, “Which, by the way, you totally did.”
I shook my head so hard that my brown hair flew around my face, whipping my cheeks like it wanted to punish me. “I haven’t lied at all. Lying by omission is just…omitting. It’s not the same thing.”
Okay, now I was definitely lying.
But I had my reasons for wanting to keep the ugly truth from my lover. My life had been so good these last few weeks. So freaking close to perfection.
I was…happy.
Although I still paid Marcus rent and dropped by our place occasionally, the fact was that I all but lived in Tristan’s penthouse now. We’d enjoyed the ecstasy of carnal bliss—okay, more like wild animal sex—almost every night, surrounded by the luxury that was his billionaire lifestyle.
My new job as owner of the Venezia Theater was turning out to be pretty fantastic, too. I’d hired a new co-artistic director and we were already making plans for two years from now.
Maybe the best part of the job was that I could take time off whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted. Which worked out great, because I’d come to love Tristan’s quickie mystery getaways, which had pretty much become a weekly occurrence by now. I never had a clue where he was taking me, but every time I found myself walking towards his private jet I knew we were heading to some amazing part of the world…not to mention the guarantee of incredible sex and fantastic food.
Not necessarily in that order, of course.
So far, we’d taken a long-weekend trip to Paris, a four-day jaunt to Costa Rica, and a quick hop over to Los Angeles. Oh, and then there was the mini-holiday to the Bahamas. We managed to hit Nassau in the midst of hurricane season, so we’d been forced ever so unfortunately to spend all our time shacked up in a five-star hotel room. While the wind wailed like a banshee outside, threatening to tear the roof off, we’d made passionate love over and over again like our lives depended on it. By the end of the weekend I could hardly walk.
But damn, I felt like I’d found heaven on earth.
“Listen, buddy, my life is pretty much perfect, for the first time ever,” I said, shoving Marcus’s shoulder playfully. “So tell me, why the hell are you trying to ruin it for me?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Just…promise me you’ll tell him after the ball,” he grunted. Apparently he didn’t find the situation funny in the least. He clasped his hands together between his knees and looked over at me, his brow furrowed with concern. “C’mon, Ari. I’m trying to help you, you know.”
“Yeah. I know,” I replied, letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine, then. I promise I’ll tell him after the ball.” I held up my left hand, pinky in the air, and he wrapped his right pinky around mine.
“Good,” he said, yanking his hand away when the brief swearing ceremony was complete.
“By the way, are you going to be there?” I asked. Marcus was a handsome guy, and no doubt he would look fantastic all dressed up in a tuxedo—though I had more important reasons for being inquisitive. “At the ball, I mean. You never know, you might meet the woman of your dreams. The place is apparently going to be crawling with shifters.” I threw him a suggestive wink.
“Yeah, I’m going,” he said. “But only because I’m supposed to work. Don’t forget that I haven’t been granted the right to find my mate just yet.”
“Because Tristan hasn’t given it to you, you mean,” I replied, slouching down and pressing my head into the back of the couch. “I still don’t understand quite what you do for him, you know. I don’t get how this arrangement of yours works.”
“I help protect his assets, like I did for my last boss. We Lessers do what we’re asked to do. We’re indentured servants until we can strike out on our own. It’s always been the way of the shifter world, and it probably always will. The alpha needs to know a Lesser is loyal before he—or she—is willing to unleash our inner animal on the world.”
I hated the word Lesser. I hated that Marcus had to use it to describe himself, even though it was what he was: A human with the genes of a shifter, but not the powers. At least not yet.
It meant that he was incomplete. An almost whole man who had to endure an unsatisfying partial life until he’d convinced the higher ups that he was worthy of a full one. Until Tristan gave him his blessing, Marcus wouldn’t be allowed to even think about seeking his mate.
Part of me wanted to challenge my lover, to ask him why he was making Marcus wait. But I knew better than to question the secret shifter code. Besides, apparently Marcus didn’t question it, either.
He’d spent his entire existence at the mercy of higher ranking men. But one day soon, his animal would be set free. I was sure of it. And as far as I was concerned, that day couldn’t come fast enough. He’d seemed slightly off lately, like some integral part of his soul was missing. He’d lost the ability to laugh at banal things, even to be playful. My housemate needed to find himself again.
“I wish you didn’t have to act as anyone’s minion,” I said. “Not even Tristan’s. You should have the freedom you deserve without this whole weird tradition of servitude.”
He shrugged. “It’s the way things are.” For some insane reason I seemed more upset than he did. “It’s a business arrangement, as I see it,” he added. “Tristan is the best person for me to do business with right now.”
With a grim immediacy, a menacing thought circled around my mind. “You said right now. What happens if someone comes along with a better offer? What if they can give you exactly what you want, a
nd Tristan can’t? Will you start working for the other side again?”
Marcus shot me another side-eyed glare. Clearly he didn’t appreciate being reminded that his last employer had been a man called Craster. A wolf shifter who’d ordered him to kidnap me and bring me to Krane for some nefarious purpose. “Look,” he said. “I betrayed my boss to help you. I lost my job because I went against Krane’s wishes. I’m not about to jump on another bandwagon just now. Besides, even if I wanted to, there’s nowhere left for me to go.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand. His fingers were warm—hot, even. The mark of a man with the blood of a shifter running through his veins. Somewhere inside him I could sense the animal who wanted—needed—to emerge, and the thought of it hurt my heart.
“Ari, you’re my best friend,” he said, his tone softening. “The likelihood of my betraying you is slim to none.”
“Aw,” I said, a smile spreading over my lips and easing the dull ache in my chest, “am I really your best friend?”
Marcus’ mouth stretched into an exaggerated frown for a second before he finally let out a laugh. Apparently our overly-serious conversation had gone on long enough. “Well, let’s see,” he replied. “I’m constantly surrounded by psychotic shifters who are locked in some kind of never-ending power struggle, each of them more thirsty for blood and dominance than the next. You’re the only semi-sane person I know. Of course you’re my best fucking friend!”
I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead and pretended to swoon. “Well, gosh golly, when you put it like that, I’m super-flattered. Boy oh boy, I can’t believe you’d choose me over all your psycho acquaintances. I feel so…special.”
“You’re welcome.” Marcus drew himself to his feet and strode towards the kitchen area of the open-concept apartment to grab another beer. “Want anything?” he asked.
“Nah,” I replied, pressing my hands into the couch, ready to shove myself upwards. “Actually, I think I’m going to head over to Tristan’s place. I need to talk to him about our plans for tomorrow. I’ve got to figure out what I’m wearing—not to mention that sometime soon I’m going to have to tell him about Clarissa’s wedding in Chicago next month. This unrelenting, glamorous social calendar of ours never ends.” With that, I flung my hair back like a diva who spends her days lounging by the pool and cooing at rich people at parties.
“Uh, right. The wedding,” Marcus said, cracking open his beer. “Are you going to bring him? Somehow, I can’t picture Wolfe enjoying himself at a human social gathering.”
I nodded. “Sure, I’ll bring him. That is, if I can convince him to come. For some reason I’ve been wussy about broaching the subject with him. A room full of half-drunk humans has never seemed like his comfort zone. He’d be irritated out of his mind with nothing but fools to stimulate him.”
“Well, it seems to me that if you can’t even manage to invite your boyfriend to a wedding because you’re too scared, you’re going to have a hell of a time dealing with the Krane situation.” Marcus sauntered back over and plopped himself down next to me. “You need to learn to trust people, you know,” he said. “Shifters, too. They’re a pretty strong bunch; they can take bad news. The sooner you figure that out, the easier your life will be.”
“I know. But I’m just so used to keeping things to myself. It’s really hard for me to be open with anyone—you know that. I’ve kept secrets all my adult life. It’s what I do.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “But maybe you need to learn that there are more of us who want to help you than hurt you. Let us in, or you’ll find yourself all alone in this world.”
“You might be right.” With that, I finally rose to my feet. I felt another lecture coming on, and I wasn’t sure I had the stomach for it. “Okay, I’m going to make like a baby and head out.”
“Oh, listen,” Marcus said, chuckling, “speaking of Clarissa, I meant to tell you—she called a couple of times while you were recovering at Tristan’s place. She told me she read about…” His voice cut itself off abruptly, like he knew the subject was too raw to bring up.
“I think what you were trying to say was ‘about Jack,’” I replied, my stepfather’s name tasting bitter on my tongue. It had been days since I’d uttered it. I’d somehow pushed all thoughts of him from my mind while my body had healed. The deep, all but deadly wound on my head had long since disappeared like it had never been there, and I’d been doing a good job of forgetting that the asshole had ever existed.
“Yeah,” Marcus said, sealing his lips tight. He knew the last thing I wanted now was to talk about the man who’d nearly killed me on opening night of our last play, when he’d come charging into my dressing room to try and extort money from my wealthy boyfriend.
“Right, of course,” I said. “I’ll call Clarissa. It’d be nice to talk to her.”
“Good. I think she’s worried about you,” Marcus said. “But I suspect the real reason she called is that she’s more than a little curious about your love life.”
My lips ticked up in a smile. The truth was, I couldn’t wait to tell Clarissa about Tristan. Well, maybe not everything about him. There were some secrets I’d be taking with me to the grave. “She read about that too, huh?”
Marcus shrugged. “I guess so. I think everyone knows about you two by now.”
“Funny to think that a few weeks ago I thought I’d never be with someone as rich as her fancy doctor fiancé. Tristan’s got a thousand times his wealth. I mean, not that I care about his money.”
“No, of course you don’t,” Marcus replied sarcastically.
“Hey! I really don’t,” I protested. “I’d be with him even if he lived in a cardboard box.”
“Maybe,” Marcus laughed, “but his piles of cash don’t exactly hurt, do they? I mean, having a private jet to fly you anywhere in the world doesn’t stink on ice.”
“True.” Suddenly I wondered how it was that I’d grown accustomed to this life so quickly. I’d become totally spoiled in the last few weeks. Maybe I really was turning into a diva. “Anyhow, I’ll give Clarissa a ring on my way to the subway.” I grabbed my jacket from a nearby chair and pulled it on. “I’ll fill her in as much as I can without giving away the important stuff.”
“Want an escort to the station?” Marcus asked, flipping the channel on the television. I could tell that the last thing he wanted was to drag his ass out of the apartment.
I shook my head. “Thanks, but no. The ravens are keeping an eye on me, so I should be okay.”
Tristan had assigned the flying shifters the duty of watching over me from the sky after the altercation with Jack. It meant that I could wander around with a certain amount of freedom, but still know I was safely under the eye of some pretty powerful bodyguards. “Besides, I like feeling normal, even if it’s only for a few minutes here and there. Sometimes that means walking down the street on my own. Anyhow, I’m sure no one’s out to get me.”
“Here’s hoping you’re right,” said Marcus, raising his bottle to me as I headed out the door.
Chapter 2
When I’d waved a final good-bye to Marcus, I jogged down the building’s stairs to the front door. Tristan probably wouldn’t be happy when he realized that I hadn’t called him to ask for a ride or at least summoned a cab. He was protective—sometimes to the point of possessiveness—and while I found it sexy to see the light of command flicker behind those impossibly blue eyes of his, this evening I wanted to rebel just a little. I needed to feel the low Manhattan sun on my flesh, if only for a few minutes.
I took the long route towards Times Square station, a feeling of happiness permeating the marrow of my bones. That was my default state now, for the first time since my childhood. Joy. Bliss. Everything good.
It wasn’t that I’d forgotten the ugliness of the past. I hadn’t forgotten the sister I’d lost, or my father. I definitely hadn’t forgotten the near-death experience I’d suffered at Jack’s hand, either.
It was only that I
’d learned to balance the bad with the good, to allow myself a little pleasure after years of sorrow. Life was too short to dwell in sadness and dark memories, too short to worry constantly about the terrible fate that might be lurking in wait around the corner.
For me, happiness wasn’t a selfish state.
It was a necessary one.
As I strolled along 42nd Street delaying my subway ride, I peered up at the sky, smiling when I spotted the two large ravens circling far overhead. Rourke and a friend, no doubt, dutifully following Tristan’s orders. Something about the ravens’ presence felt reassuring. They weren’t so near that they were invading my personal space, but they were close enough to dive down and help if trouble came knocking. I felt like I had a protective shadow following me almost everywhere I went.
All of a sudden I remembered that Marcus had mentioned Clarissa’s calls. I pulled out my phone and speed-dialed her number, stepping out of the way of the pedestrians who were storming down the street in typical Get your ass out of my way Manhattan fashion.
“Hey, stranger! Took you long enough to get in touch!” said a cheerful voice on the other end after one ring.
“Hey there,” I replied. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been busy.”
“Busy? Are you kidding me right now?” Clarissa scolded. “Stop sounding so casual about what you’ve been up to! You nearly died and you didn’t even call me to tell me about it.”
“That was because I was nearly dead,” I laughed. “Makes it tricky to dial a phone.”
“Fair enough, I guess. But are you okay? I freaked right out when I read the news!”
“You were worried you’d need to find another bridesmaid, huh?” I asked.
I could all but hear Clarissa roll her eyes. She hated when she was trying to be serious and I went into full-on smart-ass mode. “I was worried that I’d never see you again!” she belted out.
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