Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel (30 page)

Tears spilled down my cheeks and I closed my eyes. The richness of Julian’s voice infused his words with warmth. I loved him even more then, for accepting the one thing about me I’d always been told was wrong. I’d always been an inconvenience, an unexpected deviation from my mother’s plans, even though I tried hard not to be. I could never manage to stay out of trouble altogether. But Julian accepted that about me, even liked it. Being someone Julian admired felt too right to be wrong.

Still, I shook my head. “That’s not the real me.”

“Yes it is.” He caught my tears on his thumb. He brought the finger to his lips and licked them away. His hand slid down my back and cupped me from behind. He nuzzled the side of my face, his hot breath stoking my banked desire. “I know you.”

My muscles thrummed in response.

“I know how you make me feel.” He kissed my shoulder, working his way up my neck.

“How?” My skin tingled as his voice hushed over my fresh bite wound, one I hoped would never heal.

“You’re infuriating,” he growled, then swept his tongue out, a flick of wet warmth.

I draped my leg over his hip and rubbed against him, shivering with anticipation. Then I paused and looked up into his serious face.

Wait…
infuriating?

“Short-tempered, hot-headed, and impatient.” He nestled his swelling erection into the cleft of my legs. I tried to be offended by what he’d said, but found it pretty impossible. Julian could point out my shortcomings all he wanted, so long as he kept touching me. He nibbled my ear. “I know you, Alex.”

“And you still want me?” I asked as he pulled me on top.

“Always.” Julian stilled my mouth with a kiss, stole my uncertainty with his hands, and proved he knew me well enough with his body.

It wasn’t the answer I secretly hoped for, but still better than the alternative. I trembled at the thought of Julian telling me he loved me, in that deep, sultry voice of his. It would be the sweetest thing I’d ever heard. To someone like me, Julian was an obsession and a broken heart waiting to happen. But he called me
his
. In his own stubborn, roguish way, that was close enough to love for now.

In his arms, everywhere our bodies touched, and in my blood, I knew the word rang true.

I was undeniably
his
.

For better or worse.

Chapter Twenty

I
woke in Julian's arms, exactly as I’d fallen asleep. It felt right. I smiled to myself as I nuzzled closer, took in deep breaths of his musky-sweet scent, and turned my face up for a kiss.

“Magistrate Colvin,” he said.

It took me a second to sweep my romantic notions out of the way, but then I sat up and blinked at him, confused. “Huh?”

“Magistrate Colvin,” he repeated. “He has to be part of Derek’s Cabal. He’s the only one who could have accessed my file, who could have helped Derek find us, and who could have falsified my orders.”

“Oh.” I sat up and pulled the sheet to my chest.
So much for pillow talk
.

He stared at the ceiling, too entrenched in his thoughts to pay any attention to pleasantries.

I yanked back my disappointment and kicked my brain into gear. I needed to tell him about Monique, but how could I tell him someone he loved, trusted, who’d just
died
was responsible for…well, I didn’t even know everything she might have done. After a minute of deliberation, I decided to just spit it out. “Jules, Monique betrayed you. She was working with Derek and the Cabal.”

My improvised delivery sucked.

Julian sat up and threw his feet over the edge of the bed, giving me a flawless view of his deliciously naked backside. My mind fogged over.

Jules shook his head. “She wouldn’t do that.”

So, we’re back to this after all
. I couldn’t compete with her alive, and now her ghost would haunt me. I sighed and smoothed back my bed-tousled hair. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry. But it’s true. She betrayed you. She lied to us. Derek told me so.”

I wasn’t being mean, just honest. The sooner he grasped the truth, recognized that he might have put his trust in the wrong places, the sooner we could move on. I knew exactly how he must feel, but I had no idea if he would accept my comfort about this. I chewed my lip, waiting for some type of reaction.

Julian ruffled his hand through his hair, then shook his head again and stood.

I tucked my knees to my chest as he pulled on his pants. “Jules, Derek put the collar on me.”

His eyes whipped up to meet mine and darkened with rage, a building thunderstorm. I swallowed, wondering if my luck could really be that rotten.
One night of bliss is all I get?

“I’ll kill him.” Julian’s aura pulsed red — a warning to proceed with caution.

“Where else could he have gotten the collar?”

He shook his head very slowly, his fists clenching at his sides. “Alex. Don’t.”

“He knew exactly where and when to find me,” I pressed. I didn’t want to fight with Julian. But whether he hovered in denial or not, he needed to acknowledge the possibility. It could make a difference for our next step. “Could it be she—”

“She’s dead!” He started pacing. He’d held his emotions in check last night, and then poured so much into our love-making, I’d forgotten about Monique. But Julian was clearly hurting.

“I know.” I swallowed the salty lump in my throat. “I’m so sorry. When?”

“Two nights ago.” He whirled on his heel. “I was out looking for you.”

How many days had I lost under Derek’s attentions?

“What about the others?” I braced for what I considered worse news. They, at least, I called friends.

“They’re safe. Monique was murdered. That was all.” He said it as if the words meant nothing, completely hollow. It was a good act, but he couldn’t fool me. The pain and grief buried in those words were more intense than anything I’d felt in my piddly 21 years of living. If I had the ability to suck it all away, I would have.

“I thought the Cabal killed her as a message.”

I shook my head, not knowing what to say. “Then, the last two days—”

“Were the worst of my life because I was worried sick I would find
your
head next.” He spun and took three paces away from me.

I cringed at the image his words evoked, then shrugged back into my robe and tied it. It was a message all right — Derek’s lure to get Julian to come after me. It had technically worked.

“And now that I have you here and safe, you’re telling me she betrayed me.” He grimaced at the last, like someone had turned a knife in his side.

“You don’t believe me?” I asked, taken aback.

“I believe you were misled,” he said over his shoulder.

“Why would Derek lie to me?”

“To throw me off.” He moved like a caged animal, in constant motion, unable to escape the ugly truth no matter where he turned.

“I don’t think he expected me to get out of there to tell you anything.” I ached for Julian because I could do nothing to ease the hurt. Either way, he’d lost someone he loved and trusted. Did it matter now why she was dead? I wanted to let it go, but I couldn’t. We had to plan our next move, and we had to do it informed.

“She died because they wanted to hurt me.”

I bounced off the bed and faced off with him.

He turned but refused to meet my gaze.

“Listen to me. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. This is about
me
. Derek’s Cabal wants
me
as a weapon. The Grigori wants
me
in their collective. The Cloak wants
me
for God knows what. Monique is dead because she got herself tangled up with the Cabal and they used her to get to
me
.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “There’s not a damned thing you could have done about it. This is not your fault. It’s mine.”

Julian shot me a cutting glare, which I absorbed because I knew it was out of pain. I took his hands. He squeezed mine back lightly, reassuring despite the aggression contorting his face.

“Jules,” I said carefully, “does it make things fit — Monique being an informant? Does it work with what you’ve figured out so far?”

He let go of me and collapsed into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands. “There has to be another explanation.”

“Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one.”

“Derek has so many reasons to lie. He’s a crazy zealot.”

“I know.” I eased next to him. “But Ian designed the inhibitors. My collar was a prototype — the only one in existence. How else could Derek have gotten it?”

“Stolen,” he offered weakly.

I sighed. Was it possible? I supposed. My timeline was all screwed up. “How long would it take me to heal a gunshot wound to the forehead, at point-blank range?”

His head snapped up. “That bastard shot you?”

I waved away his concern. “How long?”

He threw himself back into the chair. “You? Two days, with constant infusions.” A bitter frown twisted his mouth, as if he’d finally figured out where I was going.

“And without them?”

He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me a step closer. “Four. Maybe longer. You don’t know? You were missing for a week.” He shook his head and buried his face in my side.

I stroked his back. “It’s still okay for it to hurt. I know you cared about her.”

Julian sighed and looked up at me, eyes filled with so much misery. “I…did care. I do care.”

His brow crinkled. For a moment, he looked utterly lost. I traced my finger along the arch of shiny flesh on his cheek. He pulled me down into his lap, rubbed his thumbs over my forehead, and kissed me there. “I’m sorry for what he did to you. I’ll make him pay, I promise.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I tucked my head under his chin. “I’m here now.”

He kissed me long and slow and meaningful. An intoxicating feeling, to be not only wanted, but needed in that moment. Julian kissed me like he needed me to survive, like I was the most precious thing on earth, the only thing that mattered. I wanted to slide into his skin and wrap myself around him, to soothe all the hurt I knew he harbored and wouldn’t let himself show. To protect him, and to feel safe. It would be so easy to lose ourselves, to let the world fade to a faint din, to drown in that new undercurrent of wanting and needing. So easy to forget everything else.

Knock, knock.

Julian and I both stared at the door as it opened and Carl’s blond head appeared from behind it.

“Ummm…we have company.” His voice was threaded with anxiety.

Julian shot up so fast I nearly fell to the floor. He lunged for his jacket on the other side of the bed and strode towards the door, gun in hand.

I barely had time to grasp what was going on, but my body was already in motion. I reached the door a step behind him, not sure whether I was going to stop him or help.

Julian took two steps into the small sitting room and froze.

I slammed into his back, righted myself, and took a sideways step to follow his gaze across the room.

I already knew who I’d find before my rudimentary senses confirmed it.

“Hello, Julian.” My foxy Mirage Agent smirked at my Undead Knight. “It’s been a while.”

Perfect.

Julian lifted his gun and pointed it squarely at Esmond’s face.

Esmond leaned to one side a few inches and slipped me a smug grin. “Hello, Alex darling. That robe is quite fetching.”

The gun in Julian’s hand made a menacing
click
, and I sprang into action.

“Hold it.” I stepped between them and pushed Julian’s arm down. He kept his eyes fixed on the other man, his jaw clenched tight. “Nobody is killing anyone!”

Julian cast me an irritated glance then stared at Esmond, his gaze seething with everything he had been holding inside, ready to break loose. “He’s a Grigori, Alex!”

“So am I,” I said, my voice laced with warning.

Julian stood ramrod straight at my answer, his expression stony. I turned a glare on Esmond, who bowed his head, covering a smile. Carl hovered at the edge of the room, looking like he hadn’t yet decided what he should, or could do.

“Esmond, sit down,” I said in a gracious but curt tone that I’d heard my mother use many times with difficult patients.

“How do you know him?” Julian asked, his expression pinched.

“When I ran, before Derek caught me, Esmond found me first. I was…going to go with him.” Simple, honest.

I thought you had betrayed me.

“Go with him where?” Julian’s voice was thin with disbelief.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. I hadn’t cared, then.

I’m sorry
.

Julian’s face shifted as the knowledge sank in, from confusion to simmering reproach. My chest tightened, and I wondered if this might change things for us. But it was the truth. I wasn’t going to lie. He said he wanted me, that I was his. That meant he would take it all. Even my mistakes.

“He isn’t going to do anything to us, are you?” I turned back to the Mirage Agent.

Esmond reclined on the sofa, his long arms stretched along the back, legs crossed, and foot bouncing as if he were bored. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”