Broken Heart 08 Must Love Lycans (20 page)

“A vampire queen shall come forth from the place of broken hearts. The seven powers of the Ancients will be hers to command. She shall bind with the outcast, and with this union, she will save the dual-natured. With her consort, she will rule vampires and lycanthropes as one.”

“I’m familiar with the prophecy,” said Patsy. “I’ve only heard it a gabillion times.”

“According to the new information from the Vederes, the dual-natured refer only to the lycan-vampires—you and the other
loup de sang
,” said Damian. “The last sentence should read: With her consort, she will rule vampires and lycanthropes
who are
one.”

“I’ve had this gig for eight years,” said Patsy. “Why the change-up now?” She paused. “Hang on. Am I hearing this right? I’m only supposed to be queen of the
loup de sang
? What the fuck? What’s gonna happen to the vampires? And why do I have all the freaking powers if I’m not supposed to be the boss of the bloodsuckers?”

Wow. She was irate. And I didn’t blame her. I knew very well what it was like to have the world suddenly, inexplicably crumble beneath your feet—and that didn’t include my recent experience of werewolf bites and vampire rescues.

“Your highness,” came a soft voice from the front row.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw the pretty, violet-eyed girl had stood up and was addressing the queen.

“Astria,” said Patsy. “Don’t be a dolt.”

“Sorry, Patsy. I couldn’t resist.” The girl grinned. Then her expression went serious. “You know that my family’s prophecies are truth, but our psychic powers are … limited. Sometimes it is like trying to view the world through a window smeared with Vaseline. I can see the image or the message, but it is fuzzy. Usually, this happens because it’s not time to reveal the information. I would keep watching the window until what was outside it became clear. No doubt, they’ve been monitoring this situation for a while. It’s always in the timing, you see.” She pointed toward Damian. “Something has happened, or is close to happening, that has set new prophecies into motion. The trigger event prompted my family to contact Damian because now they believe their information will be useful.”

“Terrific.” Patsy waved at Astria to sit down, then turned her attention back to Damian. “What’s your prophecy?”

Damian read in a strong, clear voice:

“To save the full-bloods and their cousins, a truth must be revealed and a secret finally spoken. The prince will choose his mate, and then his crown, and then his Pack. In the womb of the new alpha female is hope renewed. Only in forgiveness lies the redemption for the Moon Goddess, who is both Mother and Betrayer, and for her children.”

Silence blanketed the room. Then Patsy said, “I think I understood all of it—except that last line.”

“We’re still trying to figure out,” said Damian.

I had my shields up, but the weight of his lie sank right through them. He knew what the last line meant, but it wasn’t my place to challenge him. I owed nothing to Patsy, and I wasn’t sure I liked her anyway.

My loyalty was to Damian, the crown prince of werewolves.

“Well. This is the opposite of awesome,” said Patsy. “Your prophecy says nothing about vampires. That’s bugging the shit outta me.” She glanced at Astria. “Should I expect a Vedere messenger, too?”

“I’m no longer the prophet,” she said. “But I don’t doubt there is a newer prophecy concerning the vampires. Damian’s prognostication hints that things will undoubtedly change for you, and for those you rule.”

“Terrific.” Patsy waved at Damian. “Why don’t you thrill me some more by explaining why you contacted Dante.”

“I asked him to create a serum that would temporarily prevent transitions. It would essentially make a lycan … more human.”

Patsy leaned forward, her expression a mixture of worry and confusion. “Why would you want to—” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Shit. You want to make babies with humans.”

“It was an experimental solution,” said Damian. “The last full-blood lycan was born three years ago. Even the Roma are not having as many children.” He looked at me, an apology in his gaze.

Just when I thought he couldn’t find anything else to feel guilty about, the man figured out a way to inject more poison into his soul. I couldn’t blame him for trying to figure out how to save an entire race. It was the sign of good leadership to first experiment on himself. He’d done the very same thing when trying to breed with the Roma. Honestly? I wanted to be his mate and have his children, but I didn’t truly know if that was in the cards for us. Yes, he’d bitten me, and yes, his former goddess approved of me, but I’d learned that wanting something was no guarantee of getting it.

“If I do not find a way to reverse the effects, my species will go extinct.”

“Not according to the prophecy,” said Patsy. “In your mate’s womb is hope renewed.” Her gaze turned to me. “I suppose that’s you.”

“Nope,” I said so that Damian wouldn’t have to issue the denial. “I’m just a sailor on leave. Damian promised to show me a good time.”

The brunette burst out laughing. She looked around. “What? That was funny. Jesus. You guys used to have a sense of humor.”

“Knock it off, Jess,” said Patsy without any real heat. She leaned back and rubbed her temples. “Okay. So, ETAC nabbed you on your way to Dante’s.”

“What’s an ETAC?” Oops. I was just blurting out questions. I’d heard Jarred mention the name, too.

“A bunch of military assholes who hunt down supernatural creatures. They kill us, but only after they steal what powers they can to stick into their soldiers.” Patsy eyed me. “I know it’s hard to keep up, honey. Believe me, we’ve all been there.”

“Dante knew ETAC was tracking down werewolves in the hopes of creating some sort of a human-lycan hybrid, so he was keeping tabs on them,” said Damian. “They had me for two days before Dante managed to locate their facility and extract me. I had amnesia for the next three days. As soon as I regained my memories, Mari contacted you.”

Then
I
woke up the next morning and tried to rescue a man who was already being rescued. And here we were—in a vampire and werewolf infested Wonderland. I hated that the lycans were going extinct. That was sad. Awful and sad. And now I knew that Damian remembered everything, including the torture and pain of those days within ETAC’s grasp.

“You might as well tell me about the bite, too,” said Patsy. Her gaze went to my neck, but I’d left my hair down and it covered up the mark.

“I broke out of my patient room, tracking Kelsey to her apartment, and claimed her,” said Damian in a clipped, professional tone. He kept his gaze on the queen, and stood very, very still. Inside, though, his emotions churned.

“But she’s not your mate.”

“I’m really a stripper,” I said pleasantly, annoyed that she kept trying to force Damian into a corner. The whole mate issue was ours to worry about, not hers. “He pried me off that brass pole and swore I would never have to wear a sparkly thong again.”

Chuckles rolled through the room, and even the queen flashed a smile, brief though it was. “And in your spare time you’re a psychotherapist?”

“I was. I’ve decided stripping pays better.”

“Ah.”

“Oh, my gawd!” The exclamation came from … hmm, what was her name? Jess. Yeah, that’s what the queen had called her. “You’re that chick.” She waved her hands around. “Last year, on the Leo Talbot Show. There was that serial killer—Robert something. You took him out with his own knife.” She stopped gesturing wildly, which was a good thing because her husband kept having to duck her flapping hands, and stared at me. “Your mom is a real bitch.”

“Mo chroi,”
said Patrick in a patient voice. “Perhaps this is not the time for this particular topic.”

“You think my mom is a bitch?” I asked, amazed. “Really? You do?”

Jess blinked at me. “Uh …
yeah
. She shish-kebabed her own kid on a daytime talk show. I wanted to throw her in an alligator pit. See how she liked being attacked.” She grimaced. “And then to go and write that tell-all book. Alligator pit is too kind. Maybe piranhas.”

Tears pricked my eyes. No one had ever called Margaret Morningstone a bitch—at least not within my hearing. I’d always been on the other side of the equation—the figure with the minus sign—and I’d never met anyone who’d taken my side in that awful debacle. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Wow. You need new friends,” said Patsy.

I sniffled. Then I pivoted toward Jess. “What book?”

“The book she wrote about you and the serial-killer dude.” She frowned. “I think it was called
A Mother Betrayed
, or something. It came out a couple of weeks ago. It’s been all over the news.” She looked at me, and blanched. “Shit. You didn’t know.”

I felt woozy. And my tears kept falling. How annoying.

“Tell me about the werewolf bite,” said Patsy, barreling right past my personal drama. “What do you—”

“No more questions,” interrupted Damian. “I’m taking Kelsey home.”

“What?” I cried. “I don’t want to go home. I want stay with you!”

He looked down at me, his brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“What are
you
talking about?”

“You are crying,” he said in strangled tone. “I wish to take you home.”

“Oh. Your home. Okay, then.” I blinked away the moisture in my eyes. Then I sniffled. I had the sudden urge to start sobbing. Granted, I had plenty of reasons to cry (my mother wrote a goddamned book about the ugliest experience in my life), but this new urge felt foreign. Someone else in the room was feeling weepy, and I was getting the brunt of it. And it was contributing to my own unsteady emotions.

“Look, wolfie, I don’t want to be here, either,” said Patsy. “So let’s just get the whole thing over, all right?”

“We’re done now,” said Damian.

“No, we’re not. Your girlfriend can go … all the way to Dr. Michaels. We need to make sure she’s not dangerous.”

“Me?” I squeaked.

“We don’t know how the werewolf DNA will manifest,” said Patsy. “It’s better to get you both tested. I’ll figure out what to do once we get the results.”

“The lycans are no longer your concern,” said Damian coolly. “I believe I made that clear.” My shields misted away under the onslaught of his anger. His emotions battered me: He was the royal alpha, and he would claim his place again. He was her equal, not her servant. The sooner she realized it, the better.

Oh, boy. My tears dried up, and I was used to enough of my mother’s shocking actions (don’t get me started on the sex talk I received at the tender age of eight titled “Whores and Other Demeaning Female Roles to Avoid”), that I could file away the book issue.

Damian needed me.

I tugged on his shirtsleeve, but he ignored me.

“Don’t get all persnickety with me,” snapped Patsy. “I don’t care if you think you rule the pack or not, right now everyone is my responsibility and I’m still the goddamned queen of you all!”

Damian growled.

I watched his brothers take up positions on either side of us. The room went very quiet, and horribly still—the kind of static moment right before a storm unleashed its fury.

I grabbed his arm, and he looked down at me, rage in his eyes. They had gone wolf, I supposed, which is why they looked so strange. His nostrils flared. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, his gentle tone belying his simmering anger.

You know, it seemed like he was always asking me that question.

I felt very strange. Like I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. And I was craving a rare steak and chocolate ice cream and feeling
crabbyandweepyandstupidandfatandboredandhorny!

I swayed, feeling suddenly boneless, and Damian steadied me. “Kelsey?”

“Don’t be mad at her,” I said softly.

His anger receded—a little. He understood that I sensed her emotions, and he was taking my opinion seriously. I felt good about that.

Patsy shoved the chair back and got to her feet. “I’ve had enough of this crap—”

“You’re pregnant,” I blurted.

I didn’t think the woman could get any paler, but she did. She plopped back down in her seat, looking stunned.

“Oh. Um. Was that a need-to-know?”

“We would know if she was pregnant,” said Gabriel. His gold gaze accused me of being a liar. I didn’t really take much offense, though, because (a) I was a really good liar and (b) they had no reason to trust me.

Damian released my arm and then tapped the side of his nose. “We would smell the change in her.”

“How soon?” I asked.

“Within two weeks of conception,” answered Gabriel.

“Well, I guess it just happened,” I said.

“How do you know?” asked Patsy. All the fight had gone out of her. She was rubbing her belly and staring vacantly.

I looked at Damian. His gaze offered me support—and I knew he would honor whatever decision I made about revealing my empathic abilities. I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. I could hardly worry about what these people would think about my gift. Some were undead, and others could shift into wolves. So my little quirk was hardly a blip on the crazy radar here.

“I can sense the emotions of others. Yours are scrambled and intense. I’ve learned that pregnant women have an echo … sorta like your feelings are miniaturized and felt by the baby. At least until he gets big enough to have his own emotional resonance.”

“You know what?” Patsy smacked her hand against the table. “Meeting adjourned.” She pointed at Damian. “Go to Dr. Michaels. We’ll resolve our ‘who has the bigger crown’ issues later. I want to know what those ETAC bastards did to you.”

“Very well,” said Damian.

He might as well have been carved from stone. At some point, he’d managed to fold away every single niggling emotion, including his impressive fury, except for a very vague irritation that he’d lost control—and he didn’t like losing control. Not ever. I could feel his resolve hardening inside him like cement, and I knew that I couldn’t allow him to retreat into the armor of logic and duty.