Cursed by Destiny (WG 3) (5 page)

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Authors: Cecy Robson

Tags: #Vampires, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Urban, #Adult, #Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: Cursed by Destiny (WG 3)
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He sat beside me, resting his forearms over his muscular thighs. The warmth from his body trumped the heat from the fire. “You shouldn’t be here, Aric,” I said quietly.

Aric pushed his wet hair from his eyes, taking in my visage. “I don’t mean to upset you, Celia. It’s the last thing I want. But I needed to see for myself that you weren’t harmed.” He swallowed hard. “It’s killing me that I can’t be around to protect you.”

“You’ll soon have a wife to protect and look after. Don’t worry about me.”

Aric dropped his head into his large hands. “Don’t.”

My eyes burned. I bit my bottom lip to hold back my sorrow. “Don’t what? It’s the truth.”

He angled his chin toward me. “Don’t remind me of what I have to do. If this goddamn war hadn’t broken out I never would have left you.” He paused as the first of my tears trickled down my cheeks. He never could stand to see me cry. I wiped my tears irritably with my hand. He reached for it and linked our fingers. We both stiffened as a surge of heat spread across my body.

Instead of loosening his grasp, he squeezed my hand tighter. The haunting pain hardening his expression seeped into his hoarse tone. “I meant what I told you at Koda and Shayna’s wedding, sweetness. You’re the one I want to spend my life with.”

My other hand covered the back of his. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to hear your words, knowing you’ll soon spend your life with another?” He wouldn’t answer. I slowly slipped away from him and moved closer to the fireplace, crossing my arms over my chest. His silence and the bitter aroma of his sadness made me think he easily sensed my pain. Still, I continued, releasing the dam on everything I’d wanted to tell him. “I get that a union of two purebloods guarantees a
were
child. I get that your kind has been decimated and needs to reproduce in order to stop the Tribe and any other superevil that threatens our world. I get all that, Aric—I do. But it doesn’t comfort me when I’m alone at night without you.” I turned to him then. “Nor will it comfort me the remainder of my days. You shouldn’t be here, wolf.”

Aric rose from the couch, his jaw clenched. “I’m forced into a corner, Celia. My animal instincts roar to me to come out fighting, but my commitment to my pack keeps me in place.” He lowered his head. “I don’t sleep anymore. And I haven’t known happiness since the day I left your arms. I don’t expect your forgiveness nor do I deserve it for what I’ve done to you and to us. Just know that I hurt along with you, that I suffer without you, and that I’ll love you forever.”

Aric’s thick boots marched across my small living room and into the kitchen. He grabbed his jacket without bothering to put it on, then walked out of the house, disappearing into the darkness.

CHAPTER 4

The next morning greeted me with bright sunlight streaming through my large kitchen window and naughty Catholic schoolgirls pounding on my door.

“Are you going to let us in or what?” Liz wailed, following more obnoxious knocking.

It was their way of saying, “Good morning, Celia. My, don’t you look beautiful today. May we come in and shower you with our cheery dispositions and love so that you may forget your hideous and sleepless night?” I placed my mixing bowl on the counter and padded to the door. I let them in only because if I ignored them, they had an annoying habit of watching me through the windows like a bunch of Peeping Toms.

I returned to the kitchen and removed a tray of sticky buns from the oven. They were sweet and stuffed with cream cheese—and they were Aric’s favorite. We used to eat them together in bed.

Maria sat on the kitchen counter, watching me with her dark eyes narrowed. Supposedly, she was quite a skilled businesswoman. When she wasn’t entertaining Misha with her leather whip and her collection of masks, she attended company meetings and advised him on his financial affairs. I wasn’t familiar with her savvy side—only her sadistic bitchy one. She wrinkled her nose at me before speaking in her thick Brazilian accent. “What are dose?”

“Sticky buns.”

Maria scoffed, tossing back her waist-length cinnamon hair. She had the same golden skin tone I did and similar-colored eyes. That’s where our resemblance ended. I barely hit five feet three. She was at least five-nine without the kinky go-go boots she wore. “I can’t believe you eat dat garbage. Consider de vampire route. Believe me, you’ll be more satisfied.”

“Just because they don’t contain AB-negative filling doesn’t mean they’re not delicious.”

Edith Anne strutted around the counter and glared down at me. “They look disgusting.”

I really wasn’t in a mood for her attitude. I smiled and rammed one in her mouth. The others laughed as she choked it down. I could tell she liked it, but Edith wasn’t the type to admit it. She was the type, however, to put me down every chance she got.

I picked up a bun to munch on. “You’re just ticked because Misha made you give up your presents.” I’d dragged myself out of bed to find a key tied with a bow and a flat velvet case lying on my kitchen table. The case held a stunning diamond and platinum necklace Misha had given Edith for Christmas, and the key just so happened to start Agnes’s brand-new Shelby Mustang. I had to give it to Misha—he knew how to hit the naughty Catholics below the gold-digging belts. I couldn’t have come up with a more creative punishment and, whether the ingrates knew it or not, it had spared their undead asses.

Edith wiped the dripping filling on her chin with the back of her hand and hissed, “I don’t care what anyone says. You’ll make a shitty vampire.”

I crossed my arms. “What’s with all the vampire talk?”

Agnes Concepción draped her long pigtails over her breasts and adjusted her tiny librarian-looking glasses. It was something I’d noticed she did when her patience was wearing thin. She had supernatural eyesight; she didn’t need the stupid glasses. Hank told me she’d started wearing them to enhance her naughty schoolgirl persona. And yet as ridiculous as I thought her entire getup was, I had to admit she was pretty brilliant. Agnes was the expert on, well, everything, be it rare species of monkeys or even rarer species of demons. “Come on, Celia,” she griped. “With everything that’s happened between you and the master, it’s the obvious next step.”

“Ah, no, it’s not.” I finished my bun and wiped my hands with a kitchen towel. “I hate to break it to you, girlfriends, but there’s nothing between Misha and me.”

Liz stopped filing her nails, at first I thought to ram her file in my eye. The fact that I didn’t bang Misha like a pair of cymbals bugged the bejeezus out of her. Unlike Maria and Agnes, Liz didn’t do business or academia. Liz just did Liz. She’d become their little leader after she’d won the fight for dominance. She sneered, mostly to show off her new set of choppers. “You may not be bedding the master, but you’re a fool to think there’s nothing between you.”

“I’m serious.”

Edith circled me with an evil gleam in her stare. Like the rest of them, she was very tall, thin, and beautiful. The good Catholics were often mistaken for runway models and used their charms to get anything they desired. For some reason, they didn’t feel the need to be charming around me. Edith bent forward. Her gaze raked down my neck to my breasts. She licked her lips and her pupils dilated. It was similar to the way I reacted at the sight of a cheeseburger. “I see the marks we left on you have disappeared.” She lengthened her incisors as she smiled. “Would you like more, so the master can tend to them as well?”

I smiled back. She didn’t scare me in the least. “Go ahead. Emme would love that new Porsche Boxster Misha gave you for your birthday.”

Edith’s olive skin paled. The others cracked up. Besides prom night, there was nothing they enjoyed more than laughing at someone else’s expense.

•   •   •

“Faster.”

I groaned. “
Misha
.”

“Faster, my love, faster.” He laughed when I snarled. “If it pleases you, I can push harder from behind.”

I smacked his arm. “Knock it off before I throw you out of the damn car!”

Vampires were ridiculously oversexed creatures. Mostly, it got on my nerves. But when Misha interjected comments best said in a dark room filled with the scent of sex and sweat, it made me uncomfortable. Although it was his manner of teasing me, in part his propositions carried a serious offer. All it would have taken was a yes from me and we’d end up parked on the side of the road bouncing harder than a mob of horny kangaroos. That knowledge in itself scared the hell out of me.

“Behave, Misha.” I’d been scolding him the entire way to Dollar Point, where my sisters and I had shared a home. As much as he’d bugged me, he kept me distracted from dwelling on my brief time with Aric.

Aric had told me he loved me. This was only the second time he’d shared the depths of his feelings. And just like the first time he’d told me, it wrenched my heart. Against my better judgment, I’d spent the night clinging to his words, knowing it was likely the last time I’d hear them and lamenting that our time together had ended so soon. I wished our interlude had been different. When I peeled off my socks, I wished that the rest of my clothes had followed, and that we’d made love. But as much as I wanted him, it was wrong. Forced marriage or not, he was engaged to someone else.

“I said,
faster
.” Misha’s lips tickled my ear, making me squirm and hauling me back to the moment at hand. I rubbed my ear against my shoulder. I’d insisted he come along, so Taran could thank him for the gifts. Hank followed us in the new limo, since we also recognized it was best that Misha not stay.

Misha wasn’t happy with my sluggish speed, which even made an elderly couple pass us, but the last thing I wanted was to hit a patch of ice and damage the car. So Grandma and Grandpa could go ahead and flip me off; I didn’t care. It was another cold January day in Tahoe and flurries spun from the sky, slicking the already precarious asphalt.

“If you wish to attend the brunch, I advise you,
go
faster
,” Misha complained.

“If you wanted a fast driver, you picked the wrong sister. That’s Shayna’s territory.”

“You have told me stories about her spirited driving techniques . . . how did you put it? Oh, yes—she has a need for speed.”

“More like a need to drive us along the highway to hell.”

The flurries stopped before I turned onto our cul-de-sac. I honked the horn a few times, but that only brought me the wrath of our evil neighbor, Mrs. Mancuso. She stormed out of her house. She must have had her hearing aid at its highest setting. “Celia Wird! What are you doing here? I thought the neighborhood was finally rid of you.”

My sisters might not have heard the car horn, but they heard that mean hag loud and clear. Taran threw the front door open and stomped onto the wooden porch of our custom colonial. Of all my sisters, Taran was the most striking and carried the exotic beauty of our mother. With her long black hair, deep golden skin, killer curves, and striking blue eyes, she was the walking cure for erectile dysfunction. Still, even without her loveliness, her mouth would have brought her attention. “For shit’s sake. Leave her alone, you old fart!”

“Stay out of this, tramp,” Mrs. Mancuso shot back.

“Die, lady. Grant me a happy birthday and just die already.”

Gemini stepped forward and turned Taran to face him. His dark almond eyes stared at her with adoration before he kissed the top of her head. “Taran, honey, she’s just trying to upset you. Don’t let her ruin your day.” His gentle words would probably have been enough to calm Taran, but Mrs. Mancuso wasn’t done.

“Gemini, leave her at once before you get syphilis!”

Taran launched herself across our snow-covered lawn right at Mrs. Mancuso. It’s a good thing for Mrs. Mancuso that Gemini’s werewolf ability gave him superhero-like strength. No human alive would have been able to hold Taran back.

Mrs. Mancuso, finally satisfied that she had done enough damage, shuffled merrily back to her house. “Trust me, Gemini, you’ll go blind,” she sang before shutting her door.

Misha and I stepped out of the car just as Taran let loose some of her more colorful invectives. Everyone else, including Bren and Danny, our extended family members, now stood on our front walkway. Hank cackled from inside the Hummer. He obviously thought the confrontation was funny—I didn’t, and neither did Koda. He growled at him and glared at Misha. “Anyone giving you trouble, Celia?” he asked.

Koda’s long black hair did nothing to soften the strong planes of his Native American face. At six feet five, he intimidated without even trying. “No, Koda. Everything is fine.”

My sisters and their wolves welcomed me warmly. Shayna skipped to me, with her long dark ponytail bouncing happily behind her and her blue eyes sparkling. Her perky personality had always put cheerleaders to shame. But it was her recent marriage to Koda that gave her an extra special spring to her step. She hugged me tight. “I’ve missed you, Ceel,” she said. She released me slowly, the gleam in her smile fading as worry spread across her pixie face. “The witch fire . . .” she began.

I pursed my lips. “Let’s talk about it when we go inside.”

She nodded while our youngest sister, Emme, walked timidly to Misha.

“Hello, Misha,” she said. Emme’s blond wavy hair had grown longer since the last time I’d seen her. I chuckled as her fair and freckled skin blushed when Misha returned her smile. She and Misha were dead opposites. Emme reminded me of an angel, sweet, quiet, innocent. Misha reminded me of sin. He radiated sexual attraction and temptation like a brothel sign. He was well aware of his allure and so was everyone else. Liam, Emme’s rock star–looking boyfriend, gathered her in his arms protectively and pulled her away.

Misha was about as popular with the wolves as
E. coli
. With the exception of Danny, who stepped over to shake his hand, the rest scowled at Misha when my remaining sisters greeted him.

Taran remained on edge. Emme clasped her arm and surrounded Taran with a soft yellow light, using the power of her healing to soothe her. It worked up until Liam opened his mouth. “Sorry about the syphilis, Taran.”

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