Breaking the Storm (8 page)

A
young, blond, bubbly TV host appeared on the screen, smiling like she won the lottery before saying:

“Hello
, my lovelies. Gigi Bordeaux here to rock your world with the hottest celebrity news. Well, women are fainting at the latest tidbit. After a two-year hiatus, the reclusive but sexy Knox Gunner finally comes back to the state so nice that you have to say it twice. New York, New York. And last night, fans got a scrumptious taste of the notoriously wicked superstar performing his scorching hot hit single at the music awards. And let me be the first to say congrats, Knox, on winning an award for Song of the Year and Best Rock Album.

“His
performance is the kickoff for his long-awaited world tour set to kick off next week in New York before making its way around North America with stops in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. And tickets are hot—hot—hot”—she made an exaggerated sad face—“and unfortunately, sold out.”

She
licked her pouty lips, staring dead at the camera before flicking her hair like she was in some damn shampoo commercial. “But hold on to your designer panties. I’ve scored the hottest interview yet. I’ve been granted a coveted interview with Mr. Hotness himself. Knox—Knox—baby!” She leaned toward the camera, batting her fake eyelashes. “It will be backstage and real personal.” Her voice got husky. “Stay tuned, ladies.” She fanned herself. “This is bound to be a hot one.”

“You
hear that, Storm? Knox is in New York.” She gave me her best beauty contestant smile. “And guess what? You're in luck. I have a connection that can get us front-row tickets and VIP backstage passes.”

“Not
that I'm remotely interested in
your
connection, but who did you have to blow to get access to the God of Rock?”

She
rolled her eyes. “Not that I'm opposed to giving a well-deserved blow job, but none was required. Liam called me this morning to say that he was in town and would love to take me out to dinner.”

“Liam?”
My eyes widened. “I didn't know that you still talked to him.”

“Oh
, don't give me that hurt look like someone just stole your fucking bike. I haven't talked to him in years. But out of the blue, I got the call.”

My
brows furrowed. “I thought you hated him.”

She
shrugged. “I do. He’s a conceited bastard I’m playing like a Ken doll.” She winked at me. “Besides, with Knox back in town, my week just got a little more interesting. Can you imagine the reunion this will be? You—me—Knox. Just one big, dysfunctional reality show.”

I
looked over the rim of my eyeglasses. “I hate you!”

“Oh
, come on. Don’t hate the messenger. It’s all good. You’ve moved on from him. Besides, I heard his opening act is smoking hot. We can act like wild groupies for one night.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “With no freaking repercussions and all the hot rocker sex we can handle.”

Pursing
my lips with displeasure, I thumbed through my cell contacts. “No tickets. I don’t do the groupie thing. Besides, you and I have way too much work to do.” My heels clicked as I paced back and forth with my cell on speaker. “Celina? Where the hell are you? You missed check in.”

Light
propped her feet on the leather couch with her eyes fixed on the television. “Oh hell, Storm, you sound too whiny. Put more Domme in your voice like our mothers. Trust me on this, our ladies love it.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

I
gave her an irritated glare before continuing. “Celina, call me ASAP. We have a legacy client looking for a wolf-shifter escort for his friend. It’s a birthday gift. So get your cosmetically enhanced ass ready to meet him, pronto.” I slid my finger across the screen, disconnecting.

Light
clapped her hands. “That’s it, girl. Tough. Hot. Domme kickass.”

I
quirked a brow. “Are you trying to make me kick your ass?”

“What?”
Light responded with her usual impish smile.

“Dragon
witch,” I barked into my cell, calling my mother—the witch from hell. And just like the last five times, it rolled over to voicemail. I looked at the cell with frustration. “Why the hell is she not answering her cell?”

“Coven
Retreat.”

“Coven
Retreat? It can't be that time of the year already.”

“Yes
, Storm. They go to the same retreat every year. Witches gather. Discuss Other business. Get drunk. Get laid. And come back home well-fucked and smiling like a Cheshire cat.” She sighed loudly. “I'm so damn envious and can't wait until our mothers retire so we can finally get our invitations.”

“As
much as I adore a good lay, you couldn't pay me to spend three weeks locked at some retreat with those backstabbing women.” Only the top Other matchmaking businesses got invited to a three-week retreat at a luxury resort. It was a mixture of business and a lot of pleasure with mostly cougar Others on the prowl. Pulling my thick bra-strap-length, curly auburn hair away from my neck, I blew out with frustration because it was irritatingly hot on my neck, the prime reason I always wore it pulled back in a sleek ponytail. It was less of a hassle.

“Okay,
so let me get this right. Mom leaves a frantic voicemail about needing to leave town to take care of an emergency. Leaves this dress with instructions to get my ass to Ryker Alfero's party all because of some witch retreat?”

“Pretty
much.” She looked me over with an impish smile. “But you've got to admit, she does have impeccable taste. Look at you. You look like an exotic sex kitten.” She swiped her hand like a cat. “Damn, your body is just sinful. And I’m envious as hell.” She looked at my eyeglasses disapprovingly before trying to snatch them off. “Will you give me those cock-blocking glasses?”

Dodging
her attempt while popping her on the hand, I said, “I'll have you know I've been told these glasses make me look like a naughty teacher that's about to hand out punishment to a very bad boy.” I pretended to slap a ruler in my palm with a stern glare.

Light
squinted. “Okay, keep them on. You need all the help you can get to counteract the disapproving air you get every time you're around Others.”

I
rolled my eyes before leaning against the floor-to-ceiling mirror. “Give me a break. They despise us because we're hybrids but are more than happy to use our services to find them escorts. What type of hypocritical shit is that?”

Light
shrugged. “Not all of them are like that. Just the prejudiced asswipes on the Council. And they don't fucking count.”

“Let's
be honest. The Other Council controls everything that happens behind the scene. If it weren’t for the fact we are damn good at what we do, they wouldn't have shit to do with us. They need us. We have a lock on filling the female Other shortage gap. So you bet your sweet ass that every time I get the opportunity, I'm going to stick that shit in their faces. Without us, a family of female Fae-witch hybrids, they wouldn't have a chance in hell of finding those pretty little females that they parade around like show horses.”

“Okay
, that's true, but wolf-shifters are sexy as hell.”

My
body stiffened as I tried to calm my breath.
Oh shit! Not again
. The last time she dated a wolf-shifter, it was disastrous. “Light, please tell me that you haven't been sleeping with wolf-shifters again?”

“Oh
, don't get all uptight and righteous with me. I didn't say I've slept with one… lately. But you don't know what you're missing. The sex is hotter than hell.”

My
mouth tightened. “I don't care how hot the sex is. It's not worth the involuntary side effect of binding with his crazy ass forever. Besides, there are rules, Light. Rules to protect us and them.”

Light
ticked them off her fingers. “No sex with the same guy more than once. No relationships with humans. Ensure limited sexual contact with Others.” She shooed me with her hand. “Too many rules if you ask me.”

“Our
lives are not that bad.” I cringed inside because in reality, it was, but I tried not to dwell on something I couldn't change. None of us could. “We're strong, confident, successful, and beautiful.”

“And
don't forget bitter.”

“We're
not bitter. We're realistic. The Credence family made a decision centuries ago that the death associated with falling in love with a human is not worth the backlash from the Other Council. Our oath to them is the only thing keeping the truce intact.”

Light
leaned forward, sloshing champagne. “Oh fuck, you're doing that denial thing again. All the truce with the Council has gotten us is a constant watchdog waiting for us to fuck up and kill someone so they can try to railroad us like they tried with Great-Grandma Solista.”

I
couldn't deny that. There hadn't been a death due to the Credence Curse in centuries. A fact that annoyed the Others who were chomping at the bit to finally destroy us. They were vigilantly waiting for one of us to falter by falling in love with a human, thereby reviving the Credence Curse and breaking the tenuous truce with the Council.

Light
scoffed. “The only reason the Credence family made the oath of ensuring that the curse never reared its ugly head again was because our ancestors were emotionally broken from losing every man they loved. Shit, they threw their hands up in the air in defeat and came up with some fucked-up rules that don't make a bit of sense. Now we're stuck living a nomadic, loveless life that's made us very bitter. You and I know that it's not healthy. But whatever gets you through this shit of a life.”

My
fist clenched. I didn't need her poking me with the mental stick like some bully. I got it. We were fucked up. Case closed. “Has it ever occurred to you that you're being selfish? Do you know how many women would kill just to have the life we live? We have more money than we could ever spend. We age significantly slower than humans. It's a win-win situation.”

She
actually gave me a “poor thing” look. The nerve of her.

“Okay
, Storm, tell me what's the sense of having all of that when we will never have anyone to share it with? We roll over every morning to an empty bed. Face it, we're going to die alone and no amount of money is worth living a life that is emotionally empty.”

Oh
shit! She's going through one of her depression spells.

“Do
you really think I like the fact that I will never have a man to share my life with? It's a fucked-up situation, but to dwell on a situation we’re born into is just a waste of time.”

She
looked at me with more clarity than I've seen in months. “Yes. I think you do.”

I
cocked my hands on my hips. “You think that I enjoy living my life like some emotional leper with no chance in hell of having companionship?” I scoffed. “You don't know me as well as I thought you did.”

“Oh
, I know you well, Storm. And what I know for sure is that you live your life in this emotional shell, not willing to show anyone that you care. Damn it! Make some fucking mistakes. Let yourself feel again. Do something… because it's breaking my heart to watch you wither away pretending that all you need is your career and money.”

My
heart froze over years ago and nothing was going to change that fact. “And what would be the point of that? Unlike you, I do care if I hurt a human.”

Light
pursed her lips. “There's nothing in the rules that says we can't have fun.”

“Okay
… so you find a guy. You build up all these—feelings, then what?” I arched a brow. “You can't build a life with him because you eventually have to walk away.”

“Exactly,
you just said it. We walk away. But at least we experienced it. We understand we aren’t going to skip out into the sunset in some fucking fairytale ending. But we can have fun while it lasts and then move on to the next.”

She
was out of her fucking mind. “That's bullshit! I'm not going to open myself up for the experience. All I need a man for is straight up S-E-X.”

Light's
face flushed, working herself up for another big blowout with me. “No, what's bullshit is you walking around living this half existence because you’re scared that one day that S-E-X will turn into love.”

I
scoffed. “That's never going to happen. I'm happy with what I've got… my career and my family. And if I need a warm body… I'll have it for one night. Then I'll be the one walking away… well-fucked.” I flicked her hair playfully before walking away to check my makeup.

“I
give up. Think what you want. But at least you might actually have a chance to get laid tonight, all thanks to your mom.”

Frankly,
I didn’t even recognize myself tonight. My pouty lips glistened with lip-gloss, making them look sensuous; my hazel, almond-shaped eyes looked sultry. I loved looking sexy, but my hectic work life didn’t exactly incite the need for sex-on-a-platter makeup. “What, am I in kindergarten where I need my mommy picking out my outfit?” Unlike most mothers who encouraged their daughters to cover up, Mom's motto was less was more, tight was right, and classy was the fine line between stripper wear and couture.