Styx's Storm (19 page)

She hoped they had fun. She hoped to hell that if he was fucking Cassie, then her father caught him. Better yet, she just might make damned certain Dash and Elizabeth Sinclair found out about it straight from her. They were, after all, normally present in the gatherings each night in the courtyard.

And if she was really, really lucky, then Dash Sinclair would let her watch him neuter the bastard for touching his daughter.

"See, Styx." Cassie smiled in apparent excitement. "She doesn't care a bit. Come share the chocolate with me, you know you want to."

Styx turned back to her slowly.

"Some other time, Cassie." And no one was more shocked than Storme that he gave the refusal. "There are things I have to do this evening. Perhaps tomorrow evening though, since Storme is so determined to do without my company." He shot Storme another look as the flare of anger jumped out of her control and had her teeth snapping together.

"Great. No breaking the promise." Cassie gripped his shoulders, went to her tiptoes and delivered a loud, smacking kiss directly on his lips. "See you tomorrow, sweetie."

She bounced out of the room with all the exuberance of a young woman barely out of childhood, and for a second, Storme could do nothing but hate her.

Chocolate and wine. She breathed in deeply, feeling the edge of tremors of anger as they threatened to slip past her control. She was stuck in this damned house to stare at the walls for days on end. The television was blocked, the Internet didn't work even if they hadn't taken her PDA phone, and she hadn't had chocolate herself in months.

"Have fun," she bit out, her lips curling in distaste as he stared back at her with narrow-eyed suspicion.

"Cassie's always fun," he drawled softly. "But remember, Storme, you're the one that gave me permission."

With one last hard, disgusted look she turned and stomped out of the bedroom and away from the greatest threat she had faced since the night her father and brother died.

The allure of a Breed created to deceive, to seduce and to kill.

CHAPTER 9

Styx fought to replace the anger building inside him with the calm he'd always found centered him. He'd learned years ago that anger only clouded his judgment, it only led to decisions made in the heat of emotion rather than cool logic.

And in dealing with the situation at hand, cool logic was all that would prevail and still see his soul intact.

As Cassie left the house with a cheery wave, he couldn't help but grit his teeth. Cassie could be a bit of a trouble-maker when she felt the situation called for it, and she was definitely attempting to stir the pot of irritation at present.

But mixed with his exasperation at her was an edge of satisfaction as well. His wee Storme was madder than hell at the thought of him spending the next evening with Cassie, chocolate and a bottle of wine at the Point.

The Point being Cassie's name for the small gatherings that were held each evening for dinner. She had been calling it the Point for years now, and none yet knew why. The wine was a gift to her mother for her anniversary and the chocolate was the gourmet truffle cake Cassie had found for Styx to give her parents as a present.

Cassie had made it sound like an intimate, secluded date, and she'd pulled it off with a daring little smile. She'd finally managed to pull the fiery scent of jealousy from Storme's body in a fierce, hot wave.

It had lasted for only a few fragile moments, but it had been there, burning the senses and filling the air with feminine possession.

He rubbed at the back of his neck as he closed the door and moved into the kitchen. From the fridge he pulled a cold chocolate coffee drink, uncapped it and drained it in two solid gulps.

Sleeping was something he wasn't doing much of lately. Hopefully the caffeine would kick-start his energy level just enough to face the stubborn little minx still pouting in his bedroom.

Ah, he liked the sound of those words. Storme waiting in his bedroom. If only he had the right to stalk in there and demand his due as her mate. To demand her safety and convince her of the logic of handing over the data chip her father had given her.

Jonas wasn't going to leave Haven without it. He'd made his position clear that afternoon before the Wolf-Coyote Breed Ruling Cabinet. If Storme didn't produce the data chip, then she would be arrested under the tenants of Breed Law and confined in Sanctuary until such time as she did turn it over.

His teeth snapped together at the thought.

He wouldn't fucking allow it. His mate would not be confined in those windowless cells beneath the mountain, trapped in a small square of a room with no way out, no way to scent the breeze or feel the sunshine. And she sure as hell wouldn't be under the control of Jonas Wyatt.

As much as he respected Jonas, he'd kill the man before he allowed him to fly out of Haven with Storme.

On the heels of that thought his bedroom door was jerked open, and the object of his affection, his lust, and rapidly his heart, stepped into the living room to glare at him in irritation.

"You're still here?" she questioned him, the anger in her tone barely hidden. "I would have thought you'd have left by now."

"Well now, lass, it
is
my home." He gave her a toothy grin, one sure to flash the canines at the side of his mouth.

He wasn't going to hide who he was from her. There were times he got the impression that Storme fought to ignore the fact that he was a Breed, and wanted nothing more than to convince herself that he was as much human as she was.

"Well, I would gladly return your home to you," she muttered as she moved into the kitchen, hips swaying, nipples hard beneath the T-shirt and the long black hair flowing to her shoulders.

She was a wild, beautiful lass, he thought with a sigh. And so damned stubborn. She had the rounded tip of her nose lifted, her determined chin tilted, and those beautiful green eyes were narrowed with disdain and anger, and just that softest hint of jealousy wafted through the air.

That hint of possessive heat was the first sign he'd had that perhaps she felt something more for him than simply lust. It was hell, knowing this woman was his mate, feeling the edge of mating heat that had yet to flare to full life, and being without the satisfaction of knowing that all Breeds would scent his possession and see his mark, know her for the treasure she was to him.

Since Breed freedom had been achieved and mating heat realized, those male Breeds who were aware of the phenomenon waited with eager anticipation for their mate.

There were still those Breeds, both male and female, who were unaware of nature's gift to the Breeds, unless they had already mated. Knowledge of the biological bonding was kept in the strictest confidence, and any Breed who dared to tell the tale would face the combined fury of all Breeds.

"What are you thinking about so heavy? Your little date?" she said to mock him as she entered the kitchen and moved for the coffeepot.

Styx sighed. It would be his luck to be the only unmated mated Breed in existence. Damn if the pressure of it wasn't ready to chip at his unflappable calm as well.

His cock was hard. He shifted his stance, wondering if there was some way to ease the pressure of it that she wouldn't notice.

"I've things to do, Sugar," he answered as he leaned back against the counter, propped his hands on the slate countertop behind him and just watched her. "The life of a Breed isn't all chocolate and fun, ye know."

He wondered what her flesh would taste like decorated in chocolate. Truly fine, dark and sweet with just a hint of the cocoa sharpness. Even the most decadent chocolate didn't come near to the taste of her flesh though.

"Yeah, its chocolate, wine and fun," she grunted as she made her coffee then went through the kitchen cabinets. "You need to buy groceries unless you intend to starve me."

Styx scratched at his cheek. "Aye, I need to buy a few tidbits to contribute to dinner as well. We're having a pig roast next week, and a few of our more musically talented will be playing for a wee bit of dancing."

He watched her back, watched as she took a deep, hard breath. Next week she would learn the true nature of the wine and chocolate if she cared to pay attention. All mated couples celebrated the anniversary of their matings with the community. They reveled in what they had been gifted with and the lives they were leading now versus the ones they had led in the labs.

She shot him a mutinous glare. "Who's taking me? One of my jailers? You're certainly never around in the evenings."

"You can join yourself, Storme," he told her gently. "You are not excluded from the activities in the square. But if you would like an escort, I can have Navarro accompany you if you prefer not to arrive with me."

He did have other duties for tomorrow night's celebration. He was in charge of roasting the pig, a project that would begin in the next few hours.

"Forget it." The mutinous set of her lips assured him that she would fight tooth and nail before she joined the celebration.

"Ah." He nodded seriously. "I assumed you'd be gettin' cabin fever by now, but I imagine not having to run at every opportunity and having space to rest is rather a novelty. I'll allow you to do that. For a while."

He turned away, watching out of the corner of his eye as she glared at him.

"I'll bring ye a plate tonight though, beauty," he promised her with a grin that he knew would set her teeth on edge. "I believe it's fried chicken night. Aiden Chance, our head of security, insists on a fried chicken night that includes macaroni and cheese with extra cheese." He patted his stomach and made a smacking sound with his lips to indicate the level of sheer cuisine excellence. "Let me tell you what, we have damned fine fried chicken when Hope, Charity and Jessica, Hawke's mate, get together around the fryer."

And he wasn't lying. Of course, the fried chicken preparation took more than the three women. Frying enough chicken for an evening meal at Haven was an all-day event, with volunteers packing the community house from dawn until dinner.

The cabin that served as a kitchen and gathering area in the colder months worked in the summer as a central location for preparation. The entire bottom floor was a kitchen, pantry and eating area.

"Have fun," she muttered as the coffee finished and she poured a cup of the steaming brew.

"Lass, there's no limit to the fun to be had if one is of a mind to join in," he laughed, enjoying these few moments to tease her, though he knew she was unaware of the jest behind the words.

She turned and moved to the glass window of the back door, staring into the courtyard square pensively as she sipped at the coffee.

"Must be a hell of a shock," he stated. "To learn us dirty animals live not so differently from the humans that created us."

She stiffened.

Oh, he was more than aware of her opinion on Breeds. He'd actually heard her mutter the comment several times over the past few years as he tracked her.

He'd forgiven her though. Lord above knew the nightmares she must have had since she had seen her da and brother killed. Their throats had been ripped out; the bloody mess the Coyotes had left behind would give a grown man nightmares, let alone a fragile teenager who feared Breeds to begin with.

"I haven't called you an animal," she denied softly.

"Ah lass, when ye call Navarro, or Wolfe, or any Breed that fights for freedom an animal, ye call me one as well," he chastised her, wondering where this particular conversation would take them.

They hadn't had time to talk much in the past few days. When he was with her, he was more of a mind to fuck her than to talk with her.

Hell, there was nothing he wanted more at the moment than to sample the sweet, feminine taste of her and feel her snug little pussy opening for his dick. But, he could almost sense the conflict raging in her at the same time. A conflict that would offer little time for sexual play. At least for the time being.

Watching her, he now knew why the Breeds who were mated became slavering fools for the tender touch of their mate. If she turned to him, gave him a smile free of mockery, one filled with warmth and love, then he would willingly walk into death for her.

Her head dipped as she stared beyond the door, obviously watching the preparation for the night's meal. Normally, meals were prepared in advance, with everyone bringing their particular dish to the party. Tonight was no exception but for the amount of time pan frying the trays of crispy chicken that would be carried to the picnic tables as everyone began arriving.

"What has ye so pensive, Storme?" he asked gently as she continued to stare into the shaded courtyard beyond.

"I want to leave." It was said so matter-of-factly, so cold and chillingly polite that he swore he felt something tear a hole in his chest.

Never had a woman wanted to leave his company, be she human or Breed. To hear it from this one, the one that should be his, had the power to awaken the animal inside him with a snarl of rage.

He was normally a calm, easygoing Breed. Even in the heat of battle Styx wasn't one to get overly pissed off or to allow the savage side of his nature freedom.

"You know you can't leave." The brogue dropped; the easy joking and playful fun dissipated inside him.

"Because you won't let me," she snapped as she turned on him, setting the cup heavily on the table as she moved across the room. "Because you and Jonas Wyatt think you can direct anyone and everyone's life however you choose."

"I leave the directing to Jonas." He shrugged easily. "Too many lives and not enough days."

"This isn't a joke, Styx," she yelled back at him. The heat of her anger, pain and fear slapped his senses like a barbed whip.

"I agree with you, your life is a verra damned serious thing to me, woman," he growled back at her, almost wincing at the animalistic sound that had her backing away. "Damn you, Storme. You act as though I'm going to attack you, hurt you in some way. When have I ever harmed you?"

"That doesn't mean you won't," she argued forcefully, as if she were trying to convince herself more than anyone else. "I saw Breeds turn on their handlers in the labs as though they had nothing human inside them ..."

"Oh well hell, excuse the fuck outta me," he exclaimed, suddenly so completely fed up with her fear that he felt as if he were sinking in it himself. "Let's just brand us all as monsters, Storme, because the horrors we lived with may have riled us a bit. I guess we should execute those who killed their handlers and trainers for fucking raping them, dissecting them alive, and sending others out to shed innocent blood or face the deaths of those they had to leave behind in the labs."

He moved until he was standing over her, staring down at her, watching her eyes dilate with naked misery as she watched him.

"It wasn't like that. I knew them. Those scientists, those trainers. They weren't like that." Tears filled her eyes, and in them Styx saw the lie she tried to make herself believe. She knew they had been like that. But to admit it, meant admitting her father and her brother had been a part of it.

"You think because he was your father, because he loved you, that he wouldn't stand aside and allow those Coyotes and soldiers and trainers to rape those wee young women before they ever knew what it was like to understand a man's touch? Do you think your brother didn't watch men and women screaming in agony as their organs were cut from their living bodies so some fat, diseased bastard with enough cash to buy their lives could live another day?"

"Stop." She jerked away from him, her face pale, her eyes like deep, dark bruises in her pale face. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Your da kept you out of the labs, didn't he, Storme?" he yelled back at her as she retreated across the room. "Your brother kept you from the trainers and the soldiers, didn't he?"

She shook her head, but he knew they had. It was one of the few things he truly respected the Montague men for.

"They kept you out of those labs but for the rare times that they had no choice because of orders from the Directorate," he snapped back at her. "Children were always shown only certain areas of the labs. The ones where the Breeds were little more than animals, so out of their minds with fever and pain that they had no concept of reality, and therefore those who knew no better had no concept of them as human. Deny it, Storme, I dare you."