Mine (26 page)

Alex sobbed and lurched back, fear of him darkening her eyes for the first time. “Cole?”

“You’re no different than the rest of
them.
” Cole’s words stopped her dead in her tracks, froze the lies on her treacherous lips.

He was a complete idiot, enraged that another man would dare touch
his
woman—enraged that Alex would come here to meet this bastard behind his back. How could he have allowed himself to be played this way, believing her when she’d claimed to love him. The sight of her in another man’s arms—kissing another man—had driven him wild with jealousy, beyond all reason and control. But he was in control now.

Fully intending to inflict as much pain as he could in a fruitless bid to ease the hurt inside of himself, he sneered at her, his glowing eyes filled with loathing and disgust. “I guess it’s true what they say. One man’s treasure is just another man’s whore. So that leaves only one question.” Her face was frozen in a mask of stunned disbelief.

Cole glared at her, too hurt and furious to feel the burn of the sun on his exposed skin. “I wonder, does that make you his whore…or mine?”

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes filled with tears. Then, slowly, right
before Cole’s icy regard, the light in Alex’s eyes dimmed, then
extinguished all togethe
r. She took one step back—away from
him—
then another,
not

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stopping until the wooden railing surrounding the deck cut off her retreat. She pressed a fist to her stomach.

Alex whispered brokenly, “Get out.” Cole tensed, battling the urge to go to her, to sooth her pain any way he could. In self-defense, he shot her one last scathing look and turned, fleeing into the lengthening shadows.

****

Alex stumbled to the lounger Griffin had been sunning himself on and collapsed. She stared at the deck—at the approximate space in which Cole had been standing only moments before—her face carefully blank, her hands clenched together in her lap. Tears coursed unheeded down her pale cheeks. Styx stood a few feet away, but Alex refused to look at him. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d seen him with his host in Cole’s study yesterday. He approached her with hesitant steps, dropping down to his knee before her.

“Slim,” he murmured, his voice filled with sympathy. She stared off into the distance, stared through him, so he tried again. “Alex.” She blinked and a sob escaped her as she finally looked
at
him. Styx reached out and laid a hand gently over hers. “I’m so sorry, Alex. He didn’t see…”

His sympathetic words broke the tentative hold Alex had on her emotions. With a muffled sob, she tipped forward, dropping her forehead onto Styx’s shoulder and let the tears flow. Styx froze, then he gathered her into his arms, offering comfort while she fell apart.

As the tears died, Alex became aware Styx was holding himself painfully rigid. She drew back, took one look at his pained frown and rapidly reddening complexion, and gasped. She 291

was on her feet in a heartbeat, taking him by the hand, tugging him inside the house.

Alex cried, “Oh, Styx! Why didn’t you say something?”

As soon as they were inside, she pushed him down onto the sofa and hurried to the kitchen. In a few moments, she was back at his side with burn salve.

“I’m so sorry,” she began, smoothing the salve over his angry, red skin.

He took her wrists into his hands and forced them down so he could look her fully in the face.

“It’s all right, Slim,” Styx insisted. “I’ll be fine in a little while. Alex, he didn’t mean any of that. He didn’t see what happened before, he just saw you kissing that guy and assumed…”

“He assumed what, Styx?” She sat back against the cushions, defeated, dragging in a shaky breath. “No, don’t say it—I know exactly what he assumed. And if he cared about me like he said he did then he would have given me the benefit of the doubt. He wouldn’t have…” Her voice broke on a sob as Cole’s harsh words came back to haunt her. Dropping her chin to her chest, she pushed through the pain, trying to find that steely Sinclair courage that had gotten her through an embarrassing, broken engagement and a near rape at the hands of men she’d thought she’d known and trusted. She couldn’t find it. Her courage, her nerve had vanished leaving only pain and fear in its wake.

How would life ever be normal for her again?

When she raised her eyes to Styx’s face, whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat. Right there, before her startled eyes, his skin—his burns—were healing. Astonished, she lifted a hand and grazed his flawless cheek, shaking her head in wonder.

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Styx sat still beneath her exploration. His eyes searched her face, and he sighed.

“Alex, you have to trust me on this,” Styx insisted. “He didn’t mean any of it. You have to give him a chance…”

Shaking her head, Alex pushed to her feet.

“No, Styx. I’m the one who made the mistake. I should never have allowed myself to trust—not again.” Alex paced a few steps away, then turned back to him, her face devoid of all emotion, her voice flat. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go back there. I’ll send for my things later, and I’ll fax the rest of the music as soon as it’s finished. Please, let Cole know I’ll have my attorney contact Mr. St. James about terminating the contract.” Just saying his name sliced her heart to ribbons.

“Alex,” Styx began, but she cut him off.

“My mind is made up. Please, don’t try to change it.” She smiled then, an odd, hollow smile, adding, “Thank you, Styx. And, please, don’t worry. Your secret is safe.”

Styx stared at her for several long minutes, then nodded and got to his feet. He glanced out the window at the sun as it dipped below the horizon. Nodding again, he let himself out of the house, closing the door quietly behind him.

****

The wait for a ride hadn’t taken as long as Styx feared it would. Fortunately, Deacon had already been in town at a party and, as luck would have it, not far from Alex’s place. The only problem was Deacon liked to drive as fast as Cole did. All too soon, he stepped inside Cole’s darkened study. His nocturnal vision assessed the damage, and he grimaced. The place was a wreck, completely demolished. Cole’s glass display case lay on the floor, a twisted mass of 293

wooden splinters and shattered glass, his weapons and armor scattered about the room.

Half the priceless books previously residing on the shelves behind Cole’s desk were now shredded and tossed carelessly in every direction.

Every piece of furniture in the room was overturned, smashed, including Cole’s massive desk. The plasma TV was now a useless pile of shattered components. But the true shame was the Steinway. It lay in a twisted heap, broken and splintered nearly beyond all recognition but for the mangled ivory keys resting among the shredded sheet music. Alex’s sheet music, he’d wager.

“Cole?” Styx stepped cautiously onto the battlefield.

From somewhere in the far corner, Cole snarled, a ferocious, terrifying sound that skated chills straight through Styx. Stepping gingerly through the wreckage, Styx slowly approached his friend. He stopped a few paces away, however, caution and self-preservation warring with his concern.

He’d thought Cole was bad at Alex’s house.

That was nothing compared to this. He’d never imagined anyone, much less the ever confident, ever cool Cole in this shape, and frankly, he was a little nervous about getting too close. The look in Cole’s eyes was deadly, and betrayed. The low growls pouring from deep in Cole’s chest made the fine hairs on the back of Styx’s neck rise up.

Cole’s shirt was torn, his hair was wild, and the change was upon him, untempered. He was a feral beast, wounded and backed into a corner.

Styx’s nostrils flared at the scent of blood hanging heavy in the air, Human blood. Styx’s heart stopped. Had Cole tracked Alex’s ex down after all? Had he brought him back here and 294

finished what he’d begun on Alex’s deck? As his eyes searched the room, he found the broken shards of the crystal decanter Cole habitually kept his nourishment in, rather than the dead body Styx feared finding instead. He breathed again.

“Go away, Styx,” Cole growled darkly, thickly, his voice barely recognizable.

“Not until you get a clue, man.” Styx braced his feet apart, preparing himself for the attack that was sure to come. “You fucked up, Cole.” With a destructive snarl, Cole flew across the distance, slamming into Styx with enough momentum to carry them both across the room, knocking plaster from the wall. Styx locked his arms around Cole and took the punishing blow, working to maintain control over the changes that were taking place inside his own body.

“You don’t know what you saw out there, Cole,” Styx insisted, dodging a blow that could have been fatal, even to an Immortal, had it connected. His fist shot out in an instinctual jab to Cole’s side, and he hissed, “She wasn’t cheating on—”

Styx’s voice disappeared in grunt of pain as Cole slammed a fist into his midsection.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Cole howled, throwing another punch that went uncharacteristically wild, missing his mark by a good half a foot. “I saw her… I saw her with my own cursed eyes. I saw them kissing…” Styx clipped Cole’s jaw with a tight uppercut, making him snap his teeth together on the rest of his words.

“You didn’t see jack shit, Cole.” Styx ducked a wild swing, plowing his own fist into Cole’s ribs. “I was there, man, in the shadows. I found them out on the deck while you were still searching the 295

house. I saw the whole damned thing. I
heard
what you didn’t hear.” Styx feinted to the side, dodging Cole’s blows like a champion prizefighter.

“She wasn’t expecting him to be there. Her mother set her up, man. Alex wasn’t expecting that guy to be there…Dios, man, she was trying to kick him out. She’s probably got bruises all over her arms from where that bastard grabbed her. He
forced
himself on her, man.” Cole staggered back, weaving on his feet as he stared at his frien
d through gleaming, bloodshot, blood-thirsty eyes. Styx’s fangs
flashed. He wasn’t done. He advanced on Cole, fisting his hands in the shredded T-shirt covering Cole’s bleeding chest. Right up in Cole’s face, he let the words lash at him until Cole finally backed down.

“She didn’t know he was there at first. She didn’t know how he’d gotten inside.” Styx gave him a vicious shove. “She told him to leave, that they had no future together. She threatened to call the cops on him, dumbass. When he called you some two-bit singer, she defended you—told him you were twice the man he’d ever be.” Styx’s temper got the better of him, and he shoved Cole away. “
She told him you’d never lie to her, you
stupid son of a bitch.
” Cole swiped the back of his hand over his bleeding mouth. “I saw—”

Styx interrupted, shooting him an accusatory, disgusted look, “What you saw was that bastard ex-fiancé of hers trying to force himself on her.”

“Ex…” Cole’s voice trailed away in confusion.

“She never told me she’d been engaged…” Styx glanced to what remained of Cole’s desk and the smashed pieces of plastic and electronic components…all that remained of Cole’s laptop.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he ordered.

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In a flash he was back, his own laptop tucked beneath his arm. He flipped over the coffee table and pushed Cole, confused and bleeding, down to sit on the battered surface. Without ceremony, Styx thrust the laptop onto the gouged and battered surface beside Cole and began rapidly typing. After a few moments, he cranked the volume up and then spun the computer around so that Cole would have an unhindered view.

Then he stood back to wait.

Pictures flashed before Cole’s eyes, pictures of Alex stepping out of a jewelry store on the arm of the man he’d thrown across her deck and nearly beaten to a pulp. Th
ere was a brief, snide comment
by
some glamour-glossed news
broadcaster, then a sordid video clip of that same man pawing at some redhead. It took a moment for it all to sink in—Styx’s words, and the video clip—but once it did, it was a good thing Cole was already sitting down or he probably would have fallen flat on his ass. He looked as if he’d been gutted.

His expression dumbfounded, Cole stared at the images on the screen as they looped, then led into a shot of Alex entering her office building as she struggled to dodge pushy reporters, shaking her head as she did her best to hide her face.

Styx slapped the laptop closed and glared at him. “She wasn’t kissing him, man. The bastard attacked her.”

Cole leaned over and raked shaking hands through his hair. He lifted anguished eyes to Styx, his voice echoed in the demolished room.

“Odin’s teeth, what have I done?” From somewhere beneath the rubble, Cole’s phone began ringing. Following the sound, praying it was Alex, Cole scrabbled through the room until he pulled his phone from the clutter 297

near his desk.

“Fuck! Not now…” He threw the phone against the far wall and scrubbed his hands over his face. The phone rang once more, a slow, mutilated sound, the display flashing the name Crispin for a moment more. Then the phone went dead.

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