Dark Secrets (4 page)

“This isn’t a detail, Micah!” she shouted, her voice hitting
the thousands of multicolored books and bouncing back. “This is your mother! I
can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The betrayal, the doubt in her eyes might as well have been
a fucking knife to my gut.

She was right, damn it. I should have just talked to her
about it.

“How long have you been keeping this secret from me?” she
asked.

I crossed one foot over the opposite ankle, opting for an
indifferent pose. “Two weeks, give or take.”

“Give or take,” she mocked.

Ella looked to the ceiling, something she did when she was
trying to gather what little self-control she possessed. Three seconds passed
before her bright, unnaturally blue eyes returned to mine. Something petty and
mean danced in her gaze and I braced myself for whatever she was about to say.

“You’ve been hiding this information since the last time we
fucked. Am I right?”

I clenched my molars together to keep my anger in check,
something that rarely worked. The deep breath I drew in flared my nostrils and
fanned the flames coiling inside me.

Fucking—a carnal meeting of bodies where pleasure dominated
and emotion had no bearing.

I’d seen inside her head, knew her secrets, her past and her
desires. Ella had no idea what it meant to be truly fucked. Julian, her douche-bag
sire, had tried and failed. An uncontrolled burst of rage filled me at the
secondhand images rolling through my head. Julian on top of her, behind her,
buried deep inside her.

In a few days, the day before the trial, the undead asshole
was holding some asinine party for Ella—a coronation ceremony I’d been informed
I couldn’t attend. If I did—or if Ella refused to go—the contract Julian’s team
of otherworldly attorneys had drafted when her sire had saved her life two
months ago would become void. Apparently, the opportunistic fuck had some way
to use his vampiric bond to harm her. The air shifted under the weight of my
emotion. Ella responded in kind. Her spine stiffened and her eyes darkened.
Swirling shadows danced within her irises—her predator, as she liked to call
it, was awake and drawing mine out.

My voice was low, dangerous. “I thought we were above the
term ‘fucking’, but if you want to call it that, fine,” I ground out. “I found
out that night after I left you naked and passed out in bed.”

The same night I’d stared into her eyes while I thrust into
her—completely consumed. The same night I’d made her come half a dozen times.
The same night I’d lain awake long after she’d fallen into the post-sex coma
she was prone to and watched her sleep like a man truly obsessed.

“What other secrets—oh I’m sorry—details of your life haven’t
you told me?”

I snorted, the disgruntled sound matching my mood. “Why does
there have to be anything else? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if it
was true. My mother, a key eyewitness, is the testimony we need for your trial.
Which, by the way, is in four days, you know, the one after that fucking party
you’re being forced to attend. I didn’t want to get your hopes up or let you
down if it didn’t pan out.”

“Bullshit,” she seethed.

I swept my tongue over my bottom lip. Some small, asinine
part of me held on to my secret with both stubborn hands and refused to part
with it. “I don’t think you understand the implications of what this
information means. Richard lied to me about my mother. He was the one who found
her with her brains blown to shit. He’s the one who sat me and Eli down and
told us to man the fuck up because our spineless mom had taken the coward’s way
out.” Rage built, consuming me. “Richard is in on this somehow, I can feel it
in my gut. If I’m right, the information Castro gave me has the potential to
bring down the entire Shadow Agency.”

Hurt crinkled the corners of her eyes. “So why not tell me?”

I shrugged and tried to find the right words, ones that
wouldn’t cause her any more pain than what she already harbored. “You were
worried about the trial, Julian, demons, vampires and your sister. You’ve got
enough on your plate without piling my crap on top of it too. In case you haven’t
noticed, we’re in the middle of a shit storm. I’m trying to protect you.”

I pushed off the desk and crossed to her, the need to touch
her a compulsion I was too weak to resist. I cupped her cheek, got only the
briefest stroke of my thumb across her cheek before she slapped my hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Fuck that. I caught her wrist and tugged her close until her
breasts slammed against my front. Where we pressed together, her heart
thundered in the same erratic rhythm as mine. Electricity gathered where skin
touched skin.

I glared down at her and wished she’d let this go. “What the
hell is your problem?”

“You’re my problem,” she yelled and struggled to push away
from me.

Over her raised voice, I barely heard the knocking at the
door. Whoever it was could wait. I captured both of her wrists and wrestled
them behind her back. I slammed my mouth to hers hard enough to cut my lip on
one of her fangs. The flash of pain throbbed through me and my swollen cock
jerked.

The sweet tang of blood touched my tongue and I knew if I
could taste it, so could Ella. The second she gasped, I swept inside,
dominating her mouth with a delicious, wet slide of tongue.

She bit me.

I pulled back on a hiss and glared. I didn’t dare let go of
her arms to dab at the cut on my lip, not when violence lurked her in eyes.
Hunger flared and her needs whipped through me. She hadn’t fed—taken
blood—since the night we’d made love. Jesus. I was a Grade A asshole.

Regret gave me some semblance of control. I lowered my voice
and nudged her nose with mine, trying to coax out the soft kitten I knew
existed. “You’re blowing this entire thing out of proportion. I didn’t tell you
one little thing. One thing. You’re acting like I cheated on you or something.”

Ella stiffened from head to toe. Her eyes flashed and I saw
something break inside her—a physical severing of trust she had in me. What the
fuck?

“Let me go,” she hissed. “Now.”

I lifted my hands and stepped back, cautious of her shifting
mood.

She wrapped an arm around her stomach, clutching it as if
she had a bellyache. Her voice was so low I barely heard her words. “Did you
cheat on me? Is that what’s really going on here? You were upset about your
mom, Julian, whatever, so you went out and…”

Shock loosened my muscles and my mouth dropped open. I’d
rather cut off my dick than touch another woman. Ella was my it. My everything.
We were bound together on a metaphysical, soul-deep level that made it hard for
to even leave the house without her. “You’re serious?”

She backed up a step and took a piece of me with her. Her
doubt, the speed and ease she’d settled into it, ate at me. Had I wanted her so
fiercely that I’d imagined what had grown between us?

“Everything makes so much more sense now.” She cupped her
throat. When she spoke again, her voice was a rough whisper. “You cheated on
me. This,” she gestured wildly between our crotches to indicate our lacking sex
life, “has nothing to do with the information you were hiding from me. It’s
been two months and you’re already tired of me. How’d you get around the mating
bond?”

Her lack of trust brought out something in me I hadn’t known
existed—a furious indignation that left me cold. I stalked forward, each step
measured with violence. Voice the temperature of ice, I said, “Are you serious?
Tell me you are not indicating I’ve been with another woman. Whether we chose
this shit or not, we’re soul mates.”

Someone pounded on the door again, and I knew whoever waited
in the hall couldn’t hear the raging battle within, couldn’t hear how close I
was to losing complete control. They couldn’t feel the swirling emotions
churning in the air. The intercom beeped. Hannah’s voice filled the room. “Put
your clothes back on and open the door.”

The interruption was enough of a distraction for me to get
my shit together and calm down.

“Take a deep breath. Let’s both calm down.” I reached out
and cupped the back of her neck. I squeezed, trying to rub out the knot of
tension from her muscles. She vibrated with stress, something I’d put there.
Ella had her lids closed tight enough to wrinkle the corners of her eyes. I
tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her ear and stroked her soft-as-silk
skin. “Babe, look at me.”

She shook her head, sniffled and turned away, giving me her
back. Ella, the strongest woman I knew, was running. I’d thought we were past
this. What kind of bastard did it make me that I was tired of chasing? Shit got
rough, she took off and I dragged her back while she spat, kicked and fought me
every inch of the way.

Ella crossed to the door and opened it. She was short enough
not to block the doorway, so I could easily see who waited. Hannah and Dante,
one of the few people I called friend, stood waiting for us. I pinched the
bridge of my nose. Hannah took one look at Ella, shoved her out of the way and
strode into the room on three-inch death stilettos. How women didn’t break
their necks on those things was a fucking mystery.

The slinky red dress she wore adhered to her slender curves,
exposing more skin than I needed to see. She held her head high, like some
Amazon princess on the warpath. The fierce glare in her eyes should have filled
me with pride. Instead I felt annoyed as hell at the interruption. Hannah was
still riding her self-empowered high and ready to tear me a new one.

Wonderful.

“Micah McGregor, what did you do to my sister?” she hissed.

I shook my head and started for the door, ready to put this
craptastic night behind me with a bottle of bourbon. “Your sister swallowed
crazy pills. That’s what fucking happened,” I growled. “I can’t believe she’d
actually think for one second…” I brushed by Ella on my way out the door, and
our gazes locked as I passed.

The hurt on her face was almost my undoing, but I knew that
no matter what I said, Ella wasn’t going to hear it. She’d thought I’d fucked
another woman. Turned out she didn’t need to know about the circumstances
surrounding my birth to think I was a piece of shit. She’d come to that
conclusion all on her own.

My lip curled up in a sneer. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.
You never know what I’ll pick up at the bar.”

She lifted her chin. Fire filled her eyes. If I’d been
closer, she probably would have kicked me in the nuts—not like they were doing
me any good. “Don’t let the door hit your ass on your way out.”

Hannah looked frantically back and forth between us. For
some reason Ella’s sister had gotten all dolled up. She’d curled her hair or
some shit to make it…poofy.

“What about the family dinner?” she asked.

Fuck. Roy, Ella’s uncle and my once mentor, was due back
tonight. I glared at Ella before meeting Dante’s calm golden gaze. I gave him a
quick shake of the head, silently telling him women were fucking crazy and if
he were smart, he’d run for the hills while he could. Ella and I were forced
into this cohabitating bullshit. Dante was choosing this crap of his own
accord.

For Hannah I managed a small, un-genuine smile. “Not in a
family kind of a mood, kid.”

I walked away and disappeared around the bend in the hallway
with the single intention of finding my brother.

I had plans to make and people to murder.

I stared down the hall, the tears in my eyes blurring my
vision. The tip of my nose tingled. Was I crying? What the hell was wrong with
me? Micah vanished from sight right around the time I blinked, sending trails
of hot moisture rolling down my cheeks. I swiped them away with a trembling
hand, hoping to erase the evidence before my sister saw. I was not the crying
type.

Hannah said something, but I couldn’t make her words out
over the pounding in my head. My focus was somewhere else entirely. Micah hadn’t
denied cheating on me. He’d deflected.

Julian—my sire and ex-lover—the person who was once my
entire world, used to deflect all the time and I’d been too naive to realize
it. Hormones made you reckless. Love made you stupid. Trust made you
vulnerable.

I’d been burned once and the price of my stupidity had cost
me my soul. Was I doomed to make the same mistakes all over again? Either Micah
didn’t trust me—hence him withholding vital information—or he didn’t respect
me.

The random blonde I envisioned in my head, the one I
conjured the moment Micah carelessly threw out his remark about infidelity,
curled her ruby-red lips up in a smirk. She straddled Micah’s lap and started
an enthusiastic rhythm that had her gigantic tits bouncing up and down.

Vomit curled in my belly and inched up the back of my
throat. I pressed a hand against the worst of the stomach cramps and tried to
breathe through the pain. In my mind, the images got worse.

The bimbo threw her head back and screamed Micah’s name
while he grabbed her bountiful ass and leaned forward to sink his teeth into
her neck. The bite at my throat pulsed, a reminder of a different time when I’d
been the one he’d wanted to nibble.

Fuck Micah. Fuck how he made me feel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Hannah touched my shoulder, drawing my attention. Even when
she wasn’t wearing heels, my twenty-year-old sister towered over me. Next to
her, more giant than man, Dante—a lion shifter—had a large hand wrapped
possessively around her petite waist.

They were golden, perfect, happy and reeked of sex. Their
cute new coupleness made me want to hurl. Or punch something. Any of those
things was better than the whiny emotions rioting through me. Since when had I
gone all emo? What was next? Poetry written in blood while I lamented my crappy
love life?

Hannah had gotten all dolled up in a short red dress for
dinner tonight. She’d curled her hair, and even though it was mussed—from Dante’s
hands, I was going to assume—it looked really nice. Her makeup was without a
single flaw, well except for her worn-off lip gloss, also probably Dante’s
fault. Hannah, who’d fallen in a pit of depression after being tortured by Lizbeth,
was back. This was also because of Dante. I should have thanked him, but it was
hard to do when he was stealing her away from me.

I added up my losses. Micah didn’t trust me. Hannah didn’t
need me. The agency I’d given my life to wanted me dead.

The blonde in my head blew me a kiss. I was going to stab
that bitch in her crotch if she didn’t vacate my thoughts.

My sister’s expressive green eyes met mine. “Ella?”

I shook my head so violently the end of my hair whipped me
in the face. “I’m fine,” I lied.

I was going to break into hysterics any second and that sure
as shit wasn’t happening in front of Dante. On the rare occasion it happened, I
was an ugly crier. Splotches. Snot. Sniveling. No thanks, I looked bad enough
as it was.

“You are so not fine,” Hannah said softly. “What just
happened between you two? And what’s with the car-sized hole in the training
room?”

I backed up against the wall until my butt and shoulders
made contact. I slid against the hard surface and sat on the floor with my bent
legs tucked to my chest. Hannah sat on one side, Dante took position on the
other. God they smelled. The scents translated to images I didn’t want.
Sandwiched between them, I felt like a voyeur in their bedroom…or wherever it
was he’d banged my sister.

I dropped my forehead to my knees and concentrated on
drawing breaths in through my mouth. “Micah threw a fireball at my head, it hit
the wall instead.”

“No shit?” Dante said as Hannah asked, “That’s why you’re
mad?”

Their words overlaid each other. How friggin’ cute.

I ignored them both. “Then I found out his mother is still
alive.” I glanced at Dante to gauge his reaction. If he knew, I was going to go
ballistic in a creatively violent way that involved my favorite Brimstone
blade.

His pulse sped. The second my gaze met his, he looked away.
He
so
knew. Micah had trusted him, and not me.

I shoved up to my feet, winced at the pain in my side and
pointed at him. Lucky for him I was unarmed. “You knew!”

He rose and pulled Hannah up with him. When he spoke to me,
his voice was soft and soothing—two things that might have worked if they
hadn’t made me want to castrate him.

“Nothing was set in stone, Ella. He was going to tell you,
he felt bad—”

I shifted my death-ray glare to Hannah and cut Dante off. “Did
you know too?” I ignored her surprise, fury boiling through me at how naïve I’d
been. “Why didn’t the asshole just send out coffee mugs like the ‘I’m a walking
STD’ one he made for Eli? They could announce, ‘My mom’s alive, don’t tell Ella’.”

My sister lifted both hands as if to say “I’m innocent” and
took a step back. Dante wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him
as if to protect her from me.

“This is all news to me, including the mug—which is funny,
but highly disgusting,” she said.

“Ella!” Uncle Roy’s voice carried through the halls,
originating from somewhere on one of the lower levels of the sprawling house.

Wonderful. Just fan-fucking-tastic. Family dinner.

And because I was me and the fates had it out for me… “Ella,
come out, come out wherever you are,” Julian sang, his accented voice coming
seconds after my uncle’s.

The universe hated me. I closed my eyes and leaned the side
of my face against the chilled wall.

Hannah pressed her lips to my cheek. In my ear, she
whispered, “Micah’s a jerk. I’ll stall them.”

Eyes still closed, I listened as Hannah and Dante’s
footsteps faded away and left me alone. My solitude was temporary. I felt
Julian, the slight shifting in the air, the pulse of static, before my sire
appeared at my side—phazing to me.

Min askling.
His rich, sexy voice tickled the inside
of my head through our sire-fledgling connection. Even though I’d gotten very
good at shielding him, my methods weren’t perfect. Especially when he was in
the same room. Hearing his voice had my fangs pulsing, a reminder I hadn’t had
blood in weeks.

I was officially back on the wagon.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, settling on anger.

Somehow this was his fault. I blamed the vampire for
seducing me. For making me fall in love. For ruining me. For creating this
darkness inside me that craved violence.

Waves of comfort surrounded me like a soft, fluffy cloud on
a warm sunny day. Sunshine was something I’d never again experience thanks to
the threat of fried retinas. For a second, a really stupid one, I was tempted
to turn into the warmth my sire offered.

I snapped the hell to my senses.

Clouds were made of water. They were wet and cold—Julian was
a manipulative fuck.

“Ugh.” I shoved Julian away from me and frowned up at him. “Get
out of my head, ass!”

He grinned as if I’d said something cute. Luckily, him
tearing out my heart and stomping on it had given me immunity to his stunning
looks. His blond hair was tied back, leaving his handsome, angled face bare. He
was beautiful, I couldn’t deny that, but he wasn’t rugged. Not like my Micah.

If Micah was still even mine.

Julian leaned against the wall and his white silk shirt gapped
slightly where the first few buttons were undone. “You’re upset.”

“Now isn’t a good time. Go away.”

Julian pressed his hands into the pockets of his black
slacks. “I came by to make sure you have everything you need for the coronation
ceremony. Did the dress I bought you fit? Shall I send someone over to tailor
it? You’ve lost weight.”

I glared.

In two days I was expected to dress up and play nice for a
group of vampires who wanted nothing more than to cut off my head and dethrone
me. A public venue was Julian’s solution to the rogue problem—a situation that
fell on my shoulders and made me responsible for more than fifty human deaths
in the last couple of months because I couldn’t step up and do what needed to
be done. Police the bloodsuckers.

To save my life after Lizbeth had gutted me, I agreed to
play queen to his king. My sire had even had his lawyers draw up a contract. Karma
was punishing me for my evil deeds.

“I’m not wearing that scrap of material you just referred to
as a dress.”

Julian swept my body from head to toe with a slow, lingering
glance as if he were imagining me in the electric-blue silk. Through our
connection, his need for me came across loud and clear. There was something
else there, something shadowy and vague.

A secret.

I narrowed my eyes. “Wha—”

“So you tried it on, then?” He cut me off before I could
speak.

Unease gripped my stomach and I couldn’t tell if it was from
the ever-increasing physical distance between me and Micah or if Julian was
causing it.

“I’m not going. Not without Micah.”

“You agreed,
min askling
.” He pressed a bent finger
under my chin and lifted my head until our electric-blue gazes met.

Julian never just touched me. No, that would’ve been too
simple. His every caress held the weight of memories past, the ones before he’d
broken my heart.

“You may bring your wolves, but other than that, I refuse to
share you. You’re mine, little one.”

He stepped close and pressed a hand so cold it was jarring
against my bruised ribs. I jerked. He slid his palm down the hurt and cupped my
hip. His touch, however unwelcome, made my body yearn for something more—made
me crave Micah’s hands on my skin. When I tried to pull away, Julian snaked
inside my mind and grabbed hold of my motor functions. Either I was getting
sloppy at blocking him, or my sire hadn’t really shown me what master vampires
could do.

“Knock it off,” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

Paralyzed, I could do little more than hope my glare would
incinerate him. He pulled me gently into him as if he were giving me a choice.
The soft silk fabric of his pants tickled my mostly bare legs and my brain
fuzzed out as Julian forced his attraction on me.

His breath feathered across my parted lips. “I smell blood,
can taste your grief. I won’t stand aside and let anyone hurt you, not even
your mongrel.”

“What about you? Who stops you from hurting me?”

Julian stroked the side of my cheek. “What has your demon
done this time?”

I shook my head, tried to take a step back. Julian tightened
his hold on me, both physically and mentally. His face, soft and sexual seconds
ago, hardened.

“Tell me, Ella,” he demanded.

His words settled into my brain and forced a reply, my mouth
opening, words spilling out without my command.

“He didn’t hurt me.” I licked my lower lip. “I mean, he did—”

Julian pressed a finger against my mouth, sealing it closed.
My heart sped in fury.

“I don’t want your excuses. He should be protecting you and
he’s not. I know how hard things have been on you, the guilt you so desperately
try to hide. Don’t ever forget that I’m in your head. I’ll take care of it, all
of it, if only you’ll trust me.”

I searched his gaze, our connection, and felt an odd sliver
of excitement on his end. He was planning something but I didn’t know how to
chase after his thoughts and discover the truth of his lies.

“I’ll never trust you again. Let me go, Julian or so help me
god, I’ll cut off your balls and shove them up your ass.”

He lifted the right side of his mouth in an amused smirk and
retreated from my head.

The second I was free, I brought my knee up—my intention his
groin—only to have him sidestep the blow.

“So violent. Now, how about I escort you to dinner so you
can spend some time with your uncle? He’s been gone for several weeks, has he
not?”

Before I could answer, he hooked his arm in mine and led me
down the hall. The hard floor was cold under my feet, reminding me I was still
in my workout clothes. Not to mention Eli had shifted on top of me, which was
all kinds of disgusting. I needed a hot shower, clothes and some weapons.

We passed a rectangular mirror with an ornate, gaudy frame
that went well with the frilly rose Victorian-era wallpaper. Julian stood tall
and regal. At his side, I looked plain and disheveled. Nothing like a queen.

“I used to walk this path with Lizbeth, arm in arm.”

“Her name makes me want to vomit.”

Julian continued speaking as if I hadn’t said anything. “She
didn’t spend much time in this house. There’s an estate up north she preferred.”

I wondered, without wanting to, how many times in the two
years we’d dated he’d been with her and lied about it after. The thought made
me ill. I wasn’t enough. Not then and perhaps not now.

“I never touched her while I was with you. And is that why
you are upset, your mongrel found someone to play with?”

Bastard was reading my mind.

“Here’s a thought, stay the fuck out of my head.”

Julian continued down the halls, each step slow and
measured, prolonging our chat, increasing the odds I’d figure out a way around
the sire-fledging restrictions that kept me from killing him.

“Did I ever tell you how I was turned?”

“No. I asked once and you told me it didn’t concern me. That
was right around the time you decided you knew what was best for me and changed
me. You want to talk?” I glared up at him. “Let’s start there.”