Dark Secrets (6 page)

The man gathered her close as his buddy and his girl got up
too. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

I let a slow grin lift the corners of my mouth. “Sure do,
now get lost.”

The second they grabbed their drinks and left, I sat. I
pushed out a newly vacated chair for Eli. My brother shook his head, took his
seat and stared at me.

I pulled the blade from the table and re-tucked it into my
boot. “What?”

“We could have gotten another table.”

“No, we couldn’t have. This is the best one. I can see the
front of the room—you can see the back. Have you forgotten it’s a dangerous
world out there?”

A redhead carrying two longnecks sauntered over to our table
and did everything she could to catch my gaze on her way. Lust gleamed in her
eyes and I shook my head in a clear dismissal. Not interested. Without missing
a beat, she redirected and stopped at Eli’s side. She set both drinks on the
table before walking her fingers, nails painted in something I dubbed cotton-candy-pink
polish, up his arm. Perfume eclipsed the scent of tobacco. I wasn’t sure which
was worse.

“Missed you boys around here. Just ain’t the same without y’all
causing trouble.” She grinned from ear to ear. “Although Daddy’s gonna be mad
you scared off his new customers.”

Eli wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He
smiled up at her and the waitress melted. I rolled my eyes and looked over the
crowd, scaring off anyone who dared look in my direction. My senses pulsed, scanned
out until I was sure nothing supernatural—except me and Eli—lurked in the
shadows.

“It’s Gabbi, right?” Eli asked. His voice lowered, taking on
a I’ll-have-you-on-your-back-in-ten-minutes drawl. “With an ‘I’, right?”

The woman beamed at my brother’s dimples and put her finger
to one of them.

A blush colored her cheeks and brought out the red in her
hair. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

Eli scoffed, feigning hurt. “Of course I remembered. You’ve
been our waitress the last few times. You’ll have to excuse my brother. He’s
had a rough night. Got into a fight with his girl.”

“Oh no!” She turned and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Is
there anything I can get for you?”

Silence?

“Bourbon. Leave the bottle.”

When she got up to leave, Eli grabbed the belt loop on her
skintight blue jeans and pulled her back to him. He leaned in and whispered
something into her ear that had the woman nestling in closer. I picked up the
beer she’d delivered, the bottle wet with condensation, and chugged, hoping the
noise of my swallowing would drown out her giggles.

I closed my eyes and tried to think about anything except
Ella. I shouldn’t have left. Unease cranked up my agitation and I fought not to
reach for my phone and call her. Maybe something was wrong…

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Eli said and stood from the
table. Gabbi with an “I” stepped in to his side and blinked up at him with wide
eyes full of promise.

In a minute my ass.
He was going to go fuck her in
the bathroom.

What a douche.

“Whatever,” I said and took another drink.

When my phone rang ten minutes later, I was half tempted to
ignore it. I fished it from my pocket and glanced at the screen. Dante. Another
lecture, no doubt.

“What?” I said and took another sip.

“Where the fuck are you?” Over the shifter’s deep, booming
voice, feminine sobs carried over the line.

I sat up straight and my heartbeat kicked up about fifty
beats per second. My skin tightened with the extra rush of blood. “What
happened?”

“It’s Roy. He had a heart attack. He’s on the way to the
hospital, get your ass there.”

Oh shit. I pushed from the table, the chair scraping and
falling back. I glanced around the crowded bar, the cowboys from earlier
glaring at me the entire time. Eli wasn’t anywhere in sight. Just fucking
wonderful.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

“Hell no, he isn’t okay. Ella rode with him in the
ambulance, meet us at County General. Whatever happened between you and
Ella—put it aside. You wanna know who was here holding her hand while you were
off pouting?”

Fucking fuck. I strode across the bar, phone clutched to my
ear, peanut shells crunching under my boots.

“Julian, that’s who. He moved right in with that comforting
shit and Ella ate it up.”

Rage unfurled and my nostrils flared. I was going to kill
that bastard if it was the last thing I did. “Fucker.”

Dante’s voice was sharp and cutting. “I told you not to keep
that shit a secret about your mom. Go get your girl. I’ve never seen her like
that, ever. Didn’t know it was possible to actually see someone’s heart break.”

I hung up the phone and pushed through the milling crowd in
the narrow hall where the bathrooms were located. I slapped a palm to the door,
shoving it open. Eli had the redhead pushed up against the wall, his hand down
her pants. Becoming a werewolf sure had made my brother classy.

I shook my head and averted my gaze, in no mood to see my
brother’s dick if he’d gotten it out yet. “Eli, we gotta go.”

“I’m busy.”

Gabbi looked over my brother’s shoulder and met my gaze. She
licked her kiss-swollen lips and blinked hooded, I’m-seconds-away-from-climaxing
eyes at me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn’t have time for this
crap.

“Roy’s in the hospital. If you wanna stay here and give this
lovely lady an STD, fine. Go for it. But I’m leaving.”

“STD?” Suspicion flavored the barmaid’s voice and her lust
dimmed.

“He’s joking.” To me, he said, “What happened?” Eli
disengaged from his soon-to-be conquest and zipped his pants.

Disgust washed through me—this wasn’t my brother. The Eli I
knew wasn’t cavalier about sex, had never mistreated a woman in his entire
life. It ate at me to see him acting like this. When shit settled, I needed to
have a serious conversation with him—more than some slogan on a coffee mug.

“Heart attack, you asshole. You coming or going?”

He glanced back at the redhead, cupped the back of her head
and swooped down to pull her in for a kiss. “Gotta go, sorry, babe.”

She nodded with a pout. “Will you call me?”

I turned and slammed out of the bathroom, pulled out my
wallet and threw a few bills on the table as I passed. Eli jogged to catch up
and together we made it to my car. I didn’t see the sights, smell the scents,
could only focus on the black shadow of my vehicle.

“Is Roy going to be okay?” he asked as we both got into the
car.

The engine roared to life and I skidded out of the parking
lot in a spray of gravel. My palms sweated against the steering wheel where I
clutched it. I pressed on the pedal, putting it all the way down as I sped down
the highway.

“I don’t know. Dante called, told me to get my ass to the
hospital.”

The rest of the trip was silent, both of us lost in our
thoughts. The closer I got to Ella, the less pressure I felt in my chest. She
was close. Fuck, I’d known something was wrong and hadn’t listened.

I followed the signs to the hospital and pulled into the
parking lot in front of the structure, slammed the car into park and ran the
rest of the way to the emergency room entrance, Eli at my side. Glass doors
slid open to one of my worst nightmares—Ella wrapped in Julian’s arms, the
vampire fuck holding my girl close as she sobbed against his chest with loud,
gut-wrenching tears.

My heart ripped in half, a physical pain so consuming I
could barely think beyond it. What was worse was I had no one to blame. I’d let
my ego and anger get the best of me. I’d walked out on her when she needed me.
I’d ignored my instincts and the connection between us—left her vulnerable and
open to Julian’s influence.

Red hazed my vision and the only thing I could taste was
blood.

My emotions unraveled—the culmination of nonstop disasters
reaching its peak. The hustle and bustle of the emergency room faded. The
scents of blood, grief and death ceased to exist. My sister’s sobs, Dante’s low
murmuring voice, no longer reached my ears. Everything faded away and I
retreated into myself where blame consumed me.

I was a selfish bitch.

A horrible girlfriend.

A murderer.

Unable to protect my family.

Roy was going to die and I’d failed him.

My chest constricted, breathing almost impossible. Tears
filled my eyes and spilled over in a hot wash I’d given up on containing. Screw
it. My shoulders shook and my knees went weak. Beside me, Dante cradled Hannah
close, sheltering and giving her strength. Neither were things I had to offer.

One more person I’d failed.

“Don’t cry,
min askling
. Roy is a fierce hunter, he
will pull through this.” Julian’s words were soft, the first ones without any
ulterior motive or agenda.

I looked up and met his blue, blue eyes. He searched my gaze
as if he were looking for something. If he sought to unearth my love or
admiration, he was in for a lifetime of eternal disappointment. Hell would
freeze over before I let him back into my heart. He had to know that, right?
Whether he did or didn’t wasn’t an issue at this very moment because he was
here and Micah wasn’t.

He shuffled forward and I gripped my sire’s button-down
white silk shirt, needing something concrete to hold on to. He wrapped his arms
around me and pulled me close. I didn’t have the strength to protest. I buried
my face against his chest. In his embrace, I broke down.

He held me tighter. “I won’t let you go,” he whispered.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” Micah’s voice was a deep,
rolling vibration of pure rage.

I stiffened. Julian held me tighter, as if he feared I’d be
ripped from his arm. I pushed from his chest and lifted my head, meeting Micah’s
burning, furious gaze over my sire’s shoulder.

At some point before he’d left the house, he’d changed into
a pair of jeans and a tight black tee. His leather jacket hung open and I
glimpsed the butt of his gun. Eli and Dante closed in around Micah, each man
taking an arm and keeping my mate from advancing farther.

“Not here.” Dante’s voice was a rough order against Micah’s
ear.

Micah shook one arm, then the other, struggling to break
free of their grip. “Fuck that.”

Heat and fury bathed me and it took me a few seconds to
realize they weren’t my feelings. Micah. I sucked in a breath and tasted the
wrath dancing in the air. His emotions overrode my grief, shoving everything to
the side until the only thing that remained was a hard pit of loathing.

I knew of Micah’s hatred toward Julian, but I’d never tasted
it, not until that moment.

Micah curled his upper lip at Julian. “I didn’t stutter, asshole—remove
your hands from my woman.”

Julian sneered and stepped in front of me. Possession
radiated through my sire-fledging bond. Between him and Micah, their fury of
warring disgust hammered me from all angles and tore me in half.

“Or you’ll what, mongrel? Someone needed to be here for her.
That someone, yet again, wasn’t you.”

Micah flinched as if he’d been slapped, Julian’s mark
hitting its target in more ways than one.

“Julian,” I hissed, grabbing his arm and holding him back.

Julian shook his head. “It’s true and we both know it.”

In the process of staking Lizbeth, she’d managed to gut me.
Micah had tried to save me, had given me pint after pint of his blood, but it hadn’t
been enough. The only cure was my sire’s blood. Julian, the opportunistic bastard,
rubbed that fact in Micah’s face any chance he got.

Hannah stepped up to Julian’s side and cupped his cheek. She
brought his burning gaze to hers. Four skinny security guards made their way
from a silver elevator to our group, hands on their two-way radios.

“Not here, please,” Hannah pleaded. “This isn’t helping
Ella. If you care about her, you’ll leave and let them sort this out.”

Julian looked at me, his electric-blue eyes fierce.
Is
this what you want?
he asked silently.

Micah growled as if he knew Julian had spoken inside my
head, as if he could feel the power it took to converse telepathically.

I shoved my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie and
nodded to Julian. “I’ll be fine, you go on. Thank you for being here and not
being a jerk about it. I’ll see you in a couple of days, for the party.”

Julian bent as if to press his mouth to mine. Stupid.
Stupid. Stupid. I caught his face, pinching his cheeks together before his lips
met mine.

“No,” I said and shoved him away.

He inclined his head ever so slightly. His voice threaded
through my mind, a soft caressing whisper that had me gritting my teeth in an
attempt to push it away.

One day, Ella, you will see the truth—see what is inside
you and you’ll come to me.

The second he was out of sight, Eli and Dante released
Micah. Jaw tense, eyes burning, he crossed the distance between us and stopped
a few inches from touching me. The rich scents of liquor, smoke and the cheap
perfume rolled off him. He’d been at the bar.

Regret filled his eyes. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. No. I was not okay. Nothing was all right.
My head spun, my stomach hurt and I was over the emotional roller coaster I was
stuck riding. When Micah went to pull me into his arms, I stepped out of reach
and lifted a hand to ward him off.

“Don’t touch me.”

The only two men in my life I’d loved had betrayed me. The
only difference between Julian and Micah was that my demon mate hadn’t made me
watch.

“Ella,” he said softly, his voice holding too much pain for
the one word.

My voice warbled when I spoke. “Not here, not now.” A new
tear fell free and I cursed the estrogen fairies wreaking havoc inside me.

He brushed the tear away with his thumb and cupped my cheek.
I stiffened at the contact. The addictive heat of his touch distracted me from
my plan to kick him in the balls. Had his skin always been this hot?

“I swear to you, I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t know this would—”

I shook my head and curled my fingers in to my palm,
creating a fist. Eli pressed a hand to Micah’s shoulder, coaxing him away from
me. Hannah came to my side, smoothed out my fingers and fit our hands together,
giving me just enough strength not to go violent psycho-bitch on his ass.

I nodded at her, stealing her silent strength. Dante, not
that I’d ever tell him, was the best thing that had ever happened to my sister.
I held Micah’s sorrow-filled gaze for a long moment before turning away from
him.

Hannah shoved the strap of a backpack into my hand. “I
brought you some stuff to change into, why don’t we go into the bathroom and
freshen up a little bit?”

I tried not to cringe and failed. The last outfit she’d
picked out for me had been purchased from Sluts-R-Us. I didn’t think anyone
with even an ounce of dignity could blame my hesitation. “You packed?”

Hannah rolled her eyes and when I didn’t physically hold on to
the pack, she tried to wrap my fingers around it. “The Vault had a dress code!
Will you ever let that go? I stuck with the basics this time. Pants. Shirt. Don’t
worry, they’re both black.”

Relenting, I took the bag from her, grateful for the
distraction. Even though I couldn’t see Micah, I felt him behind me.

“Just so we are clear, a corset isn’t a dress code, it’s
underwear.”

“Go on now,” Dante ordered, earning a glare from me. He
ignored my annoyance. “I’ll come get you if the doctor comes out.”

Hannah pulled on my hand, tugging me from the pastel-colored
waiting room with its soft blue chairs and down a long white hall. The intercom
overhead beeped and I flinched. I braced for the screams, for Hannah’s pain to
filter through the speakers as it had in the asylum.

Please, no! Stop, oh God, stop!

I remembered the sound—the god-awful noise—of bone snapping.
Snap. Snap. Snap. Like crisp tree branches breaking in half. My sister’s scream
had changed pitch. Went higher, sharper…

The flashback faded as I realized there were no screams, no
pain. “Paging Doctor…”

I pushed the soft, soothing voice away and tuned out
whatever the announcement was. This wasn’t the sanitarium. Hannah was right
next to me, safe and unharmed.

I ignored the glances from the nurses and the other people
milling around. I’d grown used to the gawking that followed whenever I stepped
foot outside of our house. The people we passed gave me a wide birth. I can’t
say I blamed them.

I slapped a hand to the bathroom door and pushed it open. I
wrinkled my nose at the scents of vomit and urine, something no one else aside
from me could probably smell. I bypassed the long, wall-length mirror and
headed for a stall, locking myself inside the too-cramped space.

I didn’t need to be reminded of how bad I probably looked. I
stripped out of my workout clothes and sweater, piling them on the beige tiled
floor. From the backpack, I found and pulled on a pair of black cargos, then
dug deeper for a shirt. I brushed my fingers over something hard and my heart
picked up its pace. Hannah, bless her soul, had brought me my wrist sheaths and
Silverstone blades.

Corset debacle, totally forgiven.

The second I put on my weapons, I felt better. More
grounded. Less like an emotional wreck and more like myself. Kickass.

To conceal the knives, I put on a long-sleeved black shirt
Hannah had wisely chosen. The familiar scents of my clothes helped dampen the
hundred other conflicting odors around me, a trick I’d learned over the last
couple of weeks. I pulled my hair free from its ponytail and adjusted the
strands so they fell around my shoulders in messy waves.

The second I exited the stall, my sister was there waiting
for me. Despite her tears, splotchy face and quivering chin, she looked gorgeous
and perfect. I’d inherited most of my traits from my father—strength, agility
and an affinity for weapons. Hannah had taken after my mother and been graced
with a timeless beauty. But as my sister was proving, she was so much more than
a pretty face.

“How are you holding up? The nurses said it might be a while
before we get an update.” Hannah brought her thumb to her mouth and chewed on
the nail, wearing off the polish.

I shook my head, thought about feeding her a line of
bullshit. Instead, the truth poured out. “Not so good, Hannah. Everything is so
fucked up. It’s been one thing after another after another. I can’t keep up. I
can’t lose Roy. I can’t lose Micah. I don’t even know which direction is up
anymore. Last week a dozen people died because two master vampires got into a
dispute. If I were a true queen, like Lizbeth, they would have come to me to
sort it out—or make them duel or some shit. It’s my fault people are dying, my
fault people are dead.” I paced up one side of the bathroom, then the other. I
looked up from the pattern of squares scrubbed within an inch of their lives
and met my sister’s gaze. My chest constricted and my voice lowered as I
admitted the root of my problem. “Do you know how many otherworldly creatures I’ve
killed? In cold blood because I’d been ordered to?”

I braced for her judgment. The breath I’d been holding
slowly released at the soft, tender look filling her face.

“Out of necessity, Ella. Roy gave you those orders. You’ve
killed a few to protect thousands.”

“Have I? Was it necessity? The Shadow Agency gave those
instructions to Roy, and then he gave them to me. But did they deserve to die,
really? I’m in this fucked-up place where I am what I used to hunt, where I’m
supposed to be protecting what I used to hunt.” I shook my head. “I don’t know
anymore, Hannah, I just don’t. Micah doesn’t even trust me. What does that say
about me when the person who claims to love me won’t share his secrets with me?
I think he cheated on me.”

Hannah moved in front of me, stopping my pacing. Her gaze
was hard and fierce. Somehow our roles had gotten reversed.

“That is complete and utter bullshit. There is no
way—none—that he was with another woman. Think about it, Ella. Not only does he
love you, there is the bond.”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it. A lot. What if there wasn’t a
bond, what then? I’m not sure if we’d even still be together.”

My sister pressed the back of her hand to my forehead and
then cheek, as if she were checking for a fever the way our mom used to. “Are
you feeling okay? Can vampires get sick? I mean, and don’t take this wrong way
but…”

I brought the heel of my palm against my forehead, wishing I
could shove all the emotional crap out of the way and go back two months, to
the place I’d been before my life had been turned upside down. “You don’t have
to say it. I’ve been a fucking wreck. Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with
me—mid-life crisis aside. Can I pull the PMS card? I haven’t had a period in
months.” I was one step away from losing my badass card.

Hannah lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not…ya know—” Her gaze
dipped to my stomach.

“Pregnant.” Finishing her thought, I nearly choked on the
word. “Hell no. I’m on the Pill.”

My sister blew out a breath and I understood her relief one hundred
percent. The child Micah and I produced, the Demon Son, was prophesied to bring
about mayhem and destruction.

“Listen,” Hannah said. “I’m sure Micah had his reasons for
not being honest. You can feel his guilt—taste it—you can’t fake that kind of
emotion. Not to mention, he looks like you just tore out his heart and
pulverized it. You didn’t see his face when he walked through those doors, it
was like someone skinned his puppy and he was forced to watch.”

I pulled away and pushed a few strands of her blonde hair
behind her ear. “Two weeks in my world and you’re turning dark.”