Of Love and Darkness (5 page)

William had a confused look on his face. “As I recall, Prim’s last Chala assignment was—”

Gavin cut him off.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? I lost my ability to kill Chala, and with it, my status as the leader of the Rakshasa. It took me another few years of frustration and pain to figure out the other side of the curse: that I was supposed to kill my own brothers and sisters, to protect humanity. It wasn’t good enough for Prim that I was simply unable to kill innocents any longer. She took it a step further and set me up so I would potentially be the one to decimate my own kind. What comes around, and all that, I suppose.” He drained the glass of wine, as he recalled the first brother he’d killed, his own actual, blood brother. If Prim only knew how much pain she had caused him over the years.

“I have got to learn that curse,” William said in awe.

Gavin scowled and wished he could decimate William. But it was impossible, of course. Fates couldn’t die, because Fates weren’t really alive in the first place. If he snapped William’s neck, the Fate would just disappear and reappear a few hours later, healthy and whole as ever.

“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” Sydney said, her face screwed up in obvious concentration. “Chala are so important to humanity that they are assigned Fates who protect them?”

William and Gavin both nodded.

“Fates obviously have some magical powers or something, which help them to protect the Chala.”

Again, both men nodded.

“Do Chala have any magical powers of their own?”

Gavin shrugged and looked to William for an answer. “Chala are shifters, too, although you lost the ability to shape-shift many, many centuries ago. But you still have magic in your system, and it manifests itself in other ways.”

“Why can’t Chala shape-shift?” Sydney asked, sounding confused.

“Because your responsibility is to produce children. More Chala and more Light Ones to protect humanity. The ability to change form was lost over time because so few Chala actually did it, since they were more often than not either pregnant or taking care of a newborn.”

“So Chala are baby-making factories?”

Both men nodded again.

“So the Fate protects the Chala until her mate comes along. Then the protection is handed over to the mate, who may or may not be capable of the job?”

Gavin and William exchanged an uneasy glance before both nodded. Sydney’s tone had changed from confused to . . . determined. Possibly bordering on angry.

“And the Chala is just supposed to hang out, let everyone else fight her battles, and then play the good little barefoot and pregnant housewife, and hope her husband can protect her from all the bad shifters in the world, while she continues to pop out little shifter babies. Am I right?”

Gavin nodded again, pleased that she’d been able to sum it up so succinctly, while William looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Sydney, you don’t quite understand—”

She cut William off with a slash of her hand through the air. Gavin could have sworn he felt a shimmer of magic, which he found intriguing. The little Chala was growing up, and quickly, it would seem.

“Oh, I think I understand perfectly,” she said, as she pushed off the couch and strode around the coffee table to stand directly in front of Gavin. She stabbed him in the chest with her finger.

“I am not a baby-making factory, do you understand me? My sole purpose in this world is not—I repeat—
not
to spread my legs and produce a gaggle of children for you. And I will be damned if I’m going to sit back and let either one of you protect me from some unknown terror. I want to protect myself. And if you aren’t willing to teach me, I’ll find someone who will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. Good night.” And with that, she turned and flounced out of the room.

Gavin turned to William with a questioning look in his eye. He was annoyed to see that the Fate looked amused. “Why are you laughing?” he demanded irritably. “She was talking to you too, you know.”

“I know,” William said. “Because I taught her to be that way.” And then he laughed, a great booming laugh that fit his large physique much better than the muumuu did.

Chapter 4

As Sydney slowly emerged into consciousness, she became aware of a deep sense of warmth in the bed with her. As it was January, and William had the thermostat set at sixty at night because he insisted he slept better when it was cooler, Sydney expected to be cold, as usual, first thing in the morning.

But she wasn’t. She was toasty and warm. And her body tingled in places that hadn’t tingled very often in her life. The bed rumbled steadily, as if a distant train was chugging down the tracks. Or as if there was a cat sleeping with her. The steady rhythm made her drowsy again, and she snuggled more firmly against the source of the warmth and burrowed her head more deeply into her pillow, sighing contentedly.

When she felt a hand slip under her arm and cup her breast, she shot into a seated position so quickly, her head spun for a minute. She blinked away the white dots and glared at the person lying next to her.

“Get out of my bed,” she snapped at Gavin.

He rolled onto his back and stretched deeply. She turned her head away from the sight of his bare chest, with his taut and tempting muscles. He waited for her to look back again before he blatantly adjusted his crotch. She scowled.

“You were the one snuggling into me. I assumed you finally wanted to consummate our relationship.”

“You were warm. And I didn’t know it was you. And what do you mean, ‘finally’? We haven’t even known each other for twenty-four hours.”

Gavin shrugged. “Most Chala are more accommodating than you when they meet their mate.”

Sydney ignored that. “Why are you in my bed in the first place? I did not invite you into my bed.” And he hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep early, early this morning. A quick glance at the alarm clock told her she’d gotten only five hours of sleep last night. And she had to go into work this morning, and then work an event this evening. It was going to be a very long day.

“You’re my mate. I have every right to sleep in your bed. I have every right to other things, too. Be glad I didn’t demand my rights in that arena, as well.”

Sydney’s face no doubt registered her horror. “You would seriously rape me?”

Gavin gave her a disgruntled look in return. “Of course not,” he snapped. And then he slyly added, “You would enjoy it far too much to label it rape.”

She shoved him out of the bed, then clambered over the other side and was out of the room before he managed to untangle himself from the sheets. She stepped into the hall bathroom and then deliberately locked the door before taking a shower and preparing for the day.

Gavin was prowling the hall when she opened the door and allowed the steam to billow out. He scowled at her as he pushed past her and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

“Just so you know, I can get through these pitiful locks,” he called through the door. She was pretty sure he growled, too.

She rolled her eyes and returned to her bedroom to get dressed. After pulling on a pair of black slacks and a red and black polka dot button-down shirt, she sat down at the vanity and fixed her hair and makeup. By the time she left her bedroom and wandered into the kitchen, Gavin sat at the counter, nursing a cup of black coffee, and William stood at the stove, making breakfast. He’d changed out of the muumuu and wore a bright yellow dress with a thin black belt and black piping at the neckline and hemline. His military-style buzz cut was covered by a wig comprised of shoulder-length black hair with severely straight cut bangs and a flip at the ends. He was a fifties’ housewife with broad shoulders and a thick waist.

“I can do that, if you’d like,” Sydney offered as she poured herself a cup of coffee and doctored it with cream.

“I got it,” William said gruffly, so she reluctantly sat down on a stool next to Gavin.

She knew William tended to cook when he was upset, and he was not at all pleased to have Gavin in their lives. Well, that made two of them . . . sort of.

Gavin wore clothes obviously borrowed from William: a thermal waffle weave shirt that was two sizes too big and a pair of baggy jeans. His hair was spiky and still wet from a recent shower, and he hadn’t bothered to shave. Sydney’s heart rate quickened slightly, which annoyed her. She didn’t want to be attracted to—to whatever he was.

One thing he wasn’t: her mate. It wasn’t a given. She had a right to choose her own partner in life. While she had—mostly—come to terms with everything else they told her last night, Sydney refused to accept that just because Gavin happened to lick her wound meant he was her mate.

Where was the romance in that? She, like most women, dreamed about the day she found her soul mate. In her dreams, her soul mate was romantic and sweet and loving and affectionate, showering her with attention and gifts and taking her out to dinner and plays, ice-skating in the winter and bike riding in the spring. He would adore her and compliment her, and she wouldn’t be able to help but fall in love with him.

Curiously, her dreams never actually formulated a specific look for the fantasy soul mate. It was more about the way he treated her and romanced her and flirted with her than the way he actually looked. Looks, she felt, were far less important than the way her dream man treated her.

And then along came Gavin. He was as attractive and sexy as the day was long, but he hadn’t done anything in the way of romancing her, and he had yet to give her any sort of compliment. He’d licked her frigging arm and then declared her his mate. And he had such a thick, hard erection at the time that she imagined if she had suggested it, he would have banged her right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Sleazy and lecherous, definitely. Romantic and sweet? Not by a long shot.

They sat in silence until William turned around and with a flourish, slid two plates onto the counter in front of them. Each plate was laden with a giant omelet and a peeled orange. Gavin took a generous bite and said, “Where’s the meat?”

William smiled innocently.

“So do you guys eat humans because it’s, like, a necessary part of your diet? Or is it really just for fun?” Sydney asked, truly curious.

Gavin devoured the vegetarian omelet and the orange and drank three cups of coffee. “It’s part sport and part sustenance. It’s like killing a deer or an elk. Actually, the Rakshasa in Africa prefer the wild game to the humans. There’s more sport to it, because there’s fewer game. Plus, there are some diseases that make humans far less palatable. AIDS comes to mind.” He made a face.

“It’s so weird to think that you used to want to hunt me down and eat me, and now you want to mate with me.”

“I still want to hunt you down and eat you,” Gavin qualified. “Only now I want to eat a specific part of you. And if you ever suggest a game of chase, I’d probably last about five seconds after I caught you.”

Sydney turned away so he wouldn’t see the way her cheeks flamed at the image his words provoked. The doorbell rang, and William strode through the room to check the front door. Gavin sniffed the air and started to slide off his stool. Sydney grabbed his arm and held him in place.

“What is it? Rakshasa? Did they find us?”

Gavin shrugged off her hand and shook his head. “Not Rakshasa,” he muttered as he followed William. Not wishing to miss the action, Sydney hurried after him.

“I know she’s here,” she heard a male voice say, rather insistently. She did not recognize the voice.

“And how do you know she’s here?” William asked. His full figure blocked the door, so that whoever was on the other side could not get past, but neither could Sydney see who it was.

“I can smell her.” She heard someone take a deep breath. “Pheromones. She smells like heaven,” the man on the other side of the door crooned.

Gavin turned his head and lifted one eyebrow, a silent, mocking salute to, apparently, Sydney’s pheromones. She assumed it was
her
pheromones the guy was talking about, since she was the only female in the house. William may dress like a woman, but she highly doubted he emitted anything close to pheromones. Although she wasn’t too pleased with the idea that
she
did.

“Pheromones?” she asked Gavin. “Can you really smell me?”

Gavin made a display of sniffing at her, leaning close and nuzzling her neck. She batted him away. “Yep,” he said. “I can smell you. Lavender, right?”

Sydney rolled her eyes.

“There she is!” William was forcibly shoved to the side by a man who was half his size. The man had shaggy brown hair, an unshaven face, and a slight build. He looked rumpled, as if he’d slept in his clothes. But his pale blue eyes were glowing in the same way Gavin’s had when he licked Sydney’s wound yesterday.

“My mate!” The man literally dove at Sydney.

Gavin casually lifted his arm and clothes-lined him, sending the man sprawling on his back on the floor of the foyer.

“Gavin,” Sydney admonished as she pushed past him and kneeled next to the man, who cupped his neck and gasped for breath. “I thought you were supposed to protect humanity?”

“He isn’t human,” Gavin responded.

Sydney hesitated as she reached for the injured man. “What is he?”

“Light One,” William supplied as he closed the front door. “I told you she wasn’t your mate,” he said to Gavin.

Gavin made a face. “She is too my mate. But Light Ones are stupid. Until we consummate the relationship, they’ll keep showing up, trying to prove themselves to her, hoping she’ll reject me in favor of one of them.” He looked at her as if he were giving serious contemplation to hauling her back to the bedroom and just getting the deed over with.

“I can reject you?”

“No,” Gavin said flatly, and he kicked the shifter lying on the floor.

“Hey,” Sydney protested as she moved so she was between Gavin and the prone man. “If you’re really cursed, then how come you were able to hurt this guy?”

“All’s fair in love and war. He challenged me for my mate. Doesn’t matter what he is in that respect.”

“I’m not your mate,” Sydney said. “And he didn’t challenge you. He was, well, I’m not sure what he was doing. But I don’t think he even realized you were there.”

“Mate!” The man on the floor suddenly sat up and wrapped his arms around Sydney, dragging her down on top of him.

“Hey.” She struggled to get out of his grip. She twisted her head and gave Gavin a disgruntled look. “A little help would be nice.”

He folded his arms over his chest and grinned. “He isn’t challenging me.”

“You are such an ass.” Sydney turned back to the man who was clinging to her as if she represented life itself. He lifted his hands, clutched her face, and pulled her close for a kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth when she opened it to protest.

A moment later, Sydney lay on the floor alone. She looked around and saw Gavin standing near the wall, his hand around the neck of the guy who’d just kissed her. The man’s feet kicked helplessly, three inches off the ground. His face was a mottled purple color.

“Gavin, put him down,” she demanded as she climbed to her feet.

“He kissed my mate,” Gavin growled, his glowing silver-blue eyes staring intently at the choking man hanging before him. Gavin wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Apparently, his self-confidence was fully earned.

“Put him down,” Sydney commanded in a firmer voice. To everyone’s surprise, including Gavin’s, he released the man, who crumpled to the floor in a heap.

Gavin turned and glared at her. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Bullshit. I could have killed him. For the first time in two centuries, I could have killed a Light One. But you stopped me. How?”

Sydney looked down at her hands, as if they would give her the answer. “I have no idea.”

“Fascinating,” William murmured, as he bent and helped the half-conscious shifter to his feet.

Half an hour later, the Light One, whose name was Nate Guizman, lay on the couch with an ice pack draped over his throat, and Sydney fussing over him as he hoarsely stammered apologies for his behavior.

“He needs to leave.” Gavin growled while he stood near the kitchen with his arms crossed, glaring at the man and woman on the couch.

“Actually, Sydney is the only one who can make him leave,” William said, clearly enjoying himself.

What he said was not entirely true. William could make the Light One leave, if he were so inclined. But it was much more fun watching Gavin suffer. If Gavin thought he was worthy of Sydney, he was damned well going to have to prove it—to William.

“I’m her mate.”

“As you so helpfully pointed out earlier, another shifter could come along and win her hand, until you consummate the relationship.” And if William had anything to do with it, that was exactly what
would
happen.

William adored Sydney, far more than a Fate should adore his charge, but as he tried to point out to Gavin the night before, Sydney was much more special than the typical Chala. Besides, he had promised Sydney’s father that he would not be the one to tell her about this other world, of which she was an integral part, and the result of that promise led him to be even more protective of Sydney than a Fate normally would be over his charge. It was only natural they should grow as close as siblings in the process.

He felt a stab of guilt at the fact that Sydney was now fully aware of the shifter world and her role in it. Prim had warned him about Gavin, the last time William saw her, hundreds of years ago, before she managed to create the curse that now held Gavin under thrall. But curses could be broken, just as they could be cast, and if Sydney accepted him as her mate and Gavin managed to break the curse . . . William had to suppress a shudder at the thought.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Gavin asked, looking down his nose, even though the two men were nearly the same height.