Secret Unleashed: Secret McQueen, Book 6 (13 page)

“But when you knew I was coming here, you also knew I’d be looking for my father. Don’t you think a heads up would have been nice?”

I couldn’t expect Sig to admit he was wrong because it wasn’t in his character to acknowledge any mistakes on his part. But throwing me in with an unfamiliar council and having a trio of strangers tell me I was here to hunt my father? Well…it wasn’t cool, and I was hoping Sig could at least understand why I was upset.

“I’m sorry you don’t approve of the way I handled things. Perhaps the knowledge might have been useful to you, and perhaps I was remiss in not sharing it. But what’s done is done.”

That was as close to an apology as I was going to get.

At my side the bed dipped under new weight. I turned my head to look at Holden, impressed he’d managed to open the door without me noticing. Absently he picked up a piece of my hair and twisted it around his finger. He often seemed fascinated by my curls, constantly playing with them and running his hands through them. To me they were an annoyance when I was in a hurry, and often better left in a ponytail.

I swatted his hand away, but he went right back to it when I started speaking to Sig again. “Before I left you said he’d been…problematic. What kind of man am I expecting to find?”

“I’ve never met him.”

“But you know he’s been difficult for the council.”

“Yes. From my understanding he didn’t adjust properly to the change. I gather his creator—a vampire named Theo—didn’t have Sutherland’s permission in the exchange. We later discovered Theo had gone on something of a campaign through the Southern states and made a great number of unsanctioned vampires. Most of them were integrated into various councils, and Theo was…handled. I believe Sutherland carries some guilt from events following his rebirth.”

Yeah, like how he almost killed his pregnant girlfriend and unborn child?

Something occurred to me I hadn’t thought to ask anyone in all my twenty-three years. “Does he know about me?”

I’d never been able to ask Mercy, and
Grandmere
didn’t like to discuss matters relating to my heritage. As far as I know she hadn’t told anyone outside the pack about my existence. So it was possible Sutherland didn’t even know I’d survived or that he
had
a daughter.

“How would I know the answer to that?”

Holden’s hand had gone still in my hair, and I couldn’t have felt his gaze more heavily if it were a physical thing. The more I let Sig’s words sink in, the less angry I became. He was two thousand years old. Maybe he didn’t understand how upsetting it would be for me to be confronted by my biological father. He probably didn’t even remember what his own parents looked like.

And who was Sutherland Halliston to him? The result of an ugly scandal. He didn’t care about my father, so why would it have crossed Sig’s mind I might be bothered if
he
wasn’t?

Vampires—ever coldhearted—sometimes forgot how to think like the people they once were.

Sighing, I rubbed the bridge of my nose, and Holden must have clued in to the tension radiating off me because he pressed his fingers against my temples and massaged them in slow, gentle circles. I wanted to shoo him off again, but it felt so damned good I let him do it.

“I just thought you might know.”

“What Sutherland does or does not know about you, I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Awesome. Thanks.” Obviously the Tribunal had known, likely because Sig had told them of our connection, but that could have been so they’d treat me better. Was it actually possible my father had no idea who I was? Maybe he thought I’d been born a normal human, or that I’d been raised by Mercy within the pack. Maybe he thought I’d died.

There were dozens of possibilities racing through my mind, and each new one made my headache get worse.

“Did you need anything else, or do you feel prepared to get back to your job now?”

Ah, that arrogant vampire attitude. And he had the gall to call
me
sassy? I sniffed, and Holden’s hands tensed. “Yeah. Are you having any luck finding Peyton? I mean…if we’re going to talk about doing our jobs, how’s the council coming along with hunting him down?”

A pause. That he didn’t have a reply on hand made me feel equal parts victorious and nervous. “We’re working on it,” he said finally. “You worry about your father. I’ll worry about Peyton.” Always choosing to have the final word, he hung up on me.

“What was that all about?” Holden moved his hands lower to rub my shoulders.

“Daddy issues.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Daddy issues?” Holden’s fingers kneaded my knotted muscles in a most delectable fashion.

“Do you remember how you couldn’t figure out why Sig was always able to find me, even though he and I hadn’t shared blood? How he could get into my dreams?”

One of his fingers prodded me too sharply, and I gasped in pain. “You didn’t tell me he was in your dreams.”

Ignoring the obvious jealousy in his voice, I powered on, the ache of his touch still radiating over my collarbone. “As it turns out, I might have a little of his blood in me after all.”

I thought he might choke me, his hands clenched so hard.

“What does that mean?”

“In biblical terms?” Maybe not the best word choice since
getting biblical
was a euphemism for sex he was probably familiar with. “I don’t mean like
that
,” I quickly added.

“Secret, just tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Sig begat Theo.” I held up one finger then lifted a second. “Theo begat Sutherland.” Raising a third and final finger, I concluded, “Sutherland begat Secret.” Letting my hand drop, I angled my head back to look up at him. “Get it?”

“Let me get this straight…you and Sig are related.”

“Not related. We share a bloodline.”

“Which is literally the definition of being related.”

“Okay, maybe, but we’re not related the way Sutherland and I are. Or the way Mercy and I are.”

“But still related.” He looked downright gleeful.

I propped myself up on one elbow and stared at him. “You seem awfully happy about this.”

“You have no idea.” He leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips. It was brief, not passionate, and when he pulled back, he was still beaming like a Cheshire cat. “This is great news.”

“I’ve been lied to about my entire lineage, and that’s a positive thing?”

“Not for you, maybe. But for me.”

I scrunched my face up, getting into a cross-legged position and sitting so I faced him. When I figured out what he was giddy about, my gut response was to slap him, but I held back. “Oh God, Holden. Are you seriously grinning like an idiot because you think this takes Sig out of the running for a place in my bed?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. I reconsidered my restraint and smacked him hard upside the head, but it didn’t rattle his smile.

“Sig has never been in my bed.”

“You’ve been
in bed
with Sig.”

“Ugh, that’s a gross use of semantics.” Since I couldn’t say
I’ve never slept with him
, I added, “I’ve never had
sex
with Sig.”

“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t trying.”

“You mean like
you
were trying?”

“I tried for seven years. I got there eventually.” He winked, like I’d find it charming.

“You’re lucky I love you, you stupid pervert.” I whacked him in the arm. “But you had nothing to worry about with Sig.”

“Sig gets what he wants. He wanted you.”

“Did it ever occur to you I didn’t want to be with him?”

“No. I’ve met him. I know him. At some point you would have wanted to be with him.”

I didn’t deny it outright because there’d been a time when I had wondered what it would be like to be with the Tribunal Leader. He did have an undeniable appeal to him. But above and beyond any attraction was my deep-seated terror of him. Whether or not we were related, my reasons for not sleeping with him existed long before. Sex was about trust, and though I trusted Sig as a leader, I wouldn’t leave my throat exposed to him in a dark alley.

And if I wouldn’t expose my throat, I sure as hell wouldn’t hike my skirt up for him.

Especially not
now
. Which seemed to be all Holden cared about right then.

“You thought I was going to sleep with him?”

He raised a shoulder, the smirking expression gone, replaced with something more apprehensive. I suspected he was realizing how his excitement might be interpreted from my side. Badly.

“Just because I slept with you and with Desmond doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with anyone.” I was unable to keep the hurt tone out of my voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“You really thought that?”

“I don’t know what to think. You keep me on the same leash as the dog. Neither of us know what you’re thinking, or who you’re choosing. If you won’t choose one of us, what’s to keep you from choosing someone else?”

I scrambled off the bed and put the full distance of the room between us. I didn’t want to be within arm’s reach because the urge to deck him was one thing, but I also had a habit of tangling limbs with him whenever I got mad.

“I thought you loved me,” I said quietly.

“I do.” He stayed sitting on the bed, but his gaze was locked on me, following as I paced the length of the room. “I’ve always loved you. I will love you as long as I live. That’s not the point. It’s not fair what you do to me and Desmond. I can’t speak for him, but I can tell you the last thing I want is more competition. A heart can only be divided so many times before the pieces stop feeling anything. How many times can yours be divided?”

I stopped pacing and stared at him. All the guilt that had come and gone like tides in the moonlight came swelling back over me now. I’d thought I was the only one feeling the burden of this three-way love affair, but now here was one point in the triangle telling me it injured him too.

“I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

“But you are. You’re hurting us, and you’re hurting yourself.”

There was a leather settee in one corner of the room, and I sat down, placing my face in my upturned palms. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t choose between them, and I couldn’t give them up. I was stuck between having everything I wanted and having nothing at all, and I believed it was better to stay still than to take any risks.

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Fine.” He got to his feet and crouched in front of me, taking my hands in his so I had no choice but to look at him. “I’m not asking you to make a choice this second. I just want you to know why I’m relieved another option has been taken out of the running.”

Staring at him, I tried to decide if he was being cute or making a joke at my expense, but he seemed totally earnest. I let him hold my hands while he watched me. He had the eerie vampire ability to sit perfectly still, as if he’d been turned to stone, so sometimes it felt like I was looking at a statue version of Holden that didn’t breathe or move its eyes.

Not that Holden breathed on a normal day.

“Sig isn’t another option,” I assured him.

“Good.” He offered up a faint smile and squeezed my hands. “Good.”

“Are you really so unhappy?”

“It’s not that I’m unhappy. But I’d be much happier if I didn’t have to share you at all.”

“I imagine Desmond feels the same way.”

“Probably.”

I slid off the settee and straddled his lap, looping my arms lazily around his neck so I could get close enough to press my forehead against his. I liked the way his cool skin made my own seem warm by comparison. The way I felt when I was close to him was something I wouldn’t be able to give up easily. He made me believe I was safe even when I wasn’t. Like I could get through any situation.

Even this one.

“I promise you, when this is all over…Peyton, my mother, Sutherland…when it’s all done, we
will
talk. You, me and Desmond will sit down and figure this whole awful mess out. Okay?”

He supported my lower back with wide, strong palms, and leaned us towards the settee, his lips dangerously close to mine. “In the meantime, do you think you might relent on this silly celibacy mission you’re on?”

Given my position, it was impossible to ignore the rising presence of his erection, or the possessive way he tightened his hands into fists on my shirt. If I waited a few more seconds, he might shred the garment and have his way with me on the floor.

It wouldn’t be the first time we hadn’t made it to a bed.

I weighed the options in my head. On the one hand, I wanted to be thoroughly consumed by him. I craved his bite more than almost anything, longing for the intoxicating thrill it gave me. And he’d mentioned we would be better able to sell our story if we were heard by others.

That
was what made me push myself off him. Not the notion of selling our relationship, but the idea other people could hear us. I had no interest in turning my bedroom sessions into an audience event. The members of the West Coast council had no place in my relationships.