Powerful Awakening [L.U.S.T. 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

More than one hundred and fifty years of separation and every day of them Andrew had wanted to die. It was a gift he had denied himself. He had stayed in hiding, not allowing himself the reward of suicide or even the offering of himself in the middle of a pack war he knew he wouldn’t win. That would have been the easy way out, an award he didn’t deserve after his part in that fateful night. He had sentenced himself to over a century of loneliness instead, always grieving for the loves he had lost, and always longing to be with them both again.

“There are two other options to consider—” Andrew broke off at the sharp rap at the bathroom door, then lifted a brow when he heard a voice outside tell someone they would use the balcony bathroom instead. “That telepathy power of yours comes in pretty handy, huh?”

“I only use it when I must.” Michael’s gaze didn’t soften, nor did his hold on Andrew’s shirt loosen. “You were speaking of options?”

Andrew swallowed. The anger in Michael’s melodic voice tore at his heart even as it tightened his balls and stroked his already throbbing cock. He couldn’t help himself. His gaze dropped pointedly to Michael’s mouth, settled on his thin, grim-set lips, and he licked his own. “You could kiss me right now and show me how badly you’ve missed me or you could let me explain. Either way, you can put me down and let go of my shirt.” He waited a beat, then added, “Unless you’d rather rip off my shirt along with my jeans and fuck me here in the men’s room for old times’ sake.”

Michael closed his eyes, but not before Andrew saw the agony move deep within them. He felt the vampire’s desire, sensed Michael struggling to hold onto his control, and felt his own beast pacing beneath the surface of his flesh, watching and waiting for a chance to break free.

Michael’s hold on his shirt slowly loosened as the vampire set him on his feet and took a step back. “How?”

Andrew wasn’t certain he understood the question, so he answered with what he deemed to be the most important. “It’s Rebecca. The blonde I’m with tonight. Chrystal. She is Rebecca.”

“Do you not think the instant she met my gaze out there that I did not know that?” Michael raked a frustrated hand through his ebony hair. “How can it be Rebecca?”

“Reincarnation,” Andrew answered simply. “It’s Rebecca’s soul reborn in Chrystal’s body. I knew it, like you, the second our eyes locked.”

“How did you find her?”

Andrew straightened his shirt, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and leaned against the wall Michael had recently attempted to slam him through. “She found me. Or, I suppose I should say, her father found me. We’re working together on a business deal to save his company. That’s what I do now, what I’ve been doing for the last decade.”

Michael nodded, a dart of amusement and realization shooting through the anger on his handsome face. “You are the Company Savior that has received so much publicity over the past years.” He bowed his head briefly and softly chuckled. “Why did it never occur to me that it was you?”

Because you thought I was dead.
Andrew didn’t say it. He didn’t want to bring that back to the focus of their conversation just yet. “I met with her father at his office in Houston. That’s where I saw a picture of her.” He shook his head. “She didn’t strike me as anything more than a beautiful woman in the photo.”

“She was not there with you for you to sense her, feel her, and to gaze into her soul. I would think such a, shall we say
phenomenon
, would require physical presence.”

“Apparently, it does. It’s a new experience for me.” Andrew chuckled dryly. “I didn’t think anything could surprise me in this world we’ve come to live in anymore, but this damn near knocked me off my feet. She called me from Houston, tracked me down. I was in the Florida Keys at the time. Her father told her about our business deal and she’s chomping at the bit to do a story on me. Did I mention she is a freelance writer and blogger?”

“You did not. Nor, I am sure given what I have read about you thus far, have you given her the opportunity to write that story now that she knows who you are.”

Andrew pushed a hard breath from his lungs. “I haven’t. I don’t intend to.” He’d been careful over the years to keep his name out of the media. Hence the reason the stories that had appeared about him had labeled him only the Company Savior. He swore the owners of the business he helped save to absolute secrecy of his identity, in part because he didn’t want the fame, and largely because he hadn’t wanted Michael to know he still existed.

Michael considered him for a long moment. “Can you trust her not to do it anyway?”

“Absolutely. She’s daddy’s little girl. She wouldn’t put her father’s business deal in jeopardy.”

Michael’s lips twitched in a hint of a smile. “Some things apparently do not change from one life to the next.”

Rebecca had been a daddy’s girl, going against her father’s wishes only when she had hid her relationship with Andrew from the man. He had known about Michael and even approved. They had all known he would’ve never approved of Michael’s relationship with Andrew or the way they shared his daughter between the two of them.

“I’m learning that rather quickly. She’s smart, driven, instinctive, and tenacious as hell.”

“Again, all traits our Rebecca possessed in spades.”

“She uses all of it to her advantage,” Andrew continued, forcing himself to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that exploded in his gut when Michael had referred to her as their Rebecca. She had been, of course. Neither man had ever attempted to claim Rebecca for his own. They had already been lovers themselves, found her together, fallen for her together, and accepted they would share her without hesitation or squabble. “She conned me into meeting with her, into talking with her about the work I do, and promised she would reveal only what I allow her to in her story.”

Andrew threw his head back and briefly closed his eyes, remembering the first moment he saw her. “She flew to the Keys. I met her at the airport. The second I saw her, the instant our eyes met, I knew.”

“Does she?”

Andrew lifted his head and met Michael’s gaze. The man’s anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but his expression had softened, the tone of his voice returning to the intoxicating mix of elegant melody and the South, and he stood with his posture relaxed as he waited for Andrew to answer.

“She senses it. I see it now and then, a hesitation when she looks at me, a jolt when we touch…”

A muscle ticked in Michael’s jaw and his expression hardened for a flash.

“Casual touch, Michael,” Andrew calmly assured him. “I haven’t made love to her. Hell, I haven’t even kissed her. Gods know I’ve wanted to from the first moment.” He tipped his chin at the closed door of the bathroom. “She sensed it out there tonight when she spotted you on the balcony. She doesn’t know what it is, but she feels it.”

“If you were in the Keys when she came to you, why are you here in Atlanta now? Why are you here at my club?”

“A number of reasons. Most of which you aren’t going to like.”

Michael lifted a brow at that. “Should I assume the fact that you are alive and have been all these years is not the only thing you are hiding?”

“She belongs to both of us.” Andrew wanted to make sure Michael understood he remembered, that he still felt it and believed it with every ounce of his being. “I couldn’t and wouldn’t have her without you there with us. As soon as I realized our Rebecca had come back to us, I knew I had to bring her to you.”

“How long have you known?”

“A couple of days,” Andrew admitted and watched the muscle in Michael’s jaw jump in triple time now.

“You realized and yet you waited,” Michael said tightly. “Why?”

Andrew sighed and let the rest of the truth spill. “She’s in danger being with me. I don’t want to let her go, but I need your help to protect her.”

* * * *

We need him, Chrysie.

Chrystal heard her father’s words reverberate through her memory as clearly as if he were standing right next to her in the crowded club and saying them again. She lifted her drink to her lips, sipped as she scanned the club, and spotted Andrew weaving his way back to her. She choked on the sip as her gaze slid to Andrew’s left, landing on Michael Delacroix walking at Andrew’s side.

Chrystal’s breath caught in her throat. Everything around her, the noise, the people, the entire club faded as she watched the men walk toward her. She heard birds chirping in the distance, saw an open field speckled with blooming flowers and roaming horses, and Andrew and Michael walking over the grass in long, easy strides.

Their clothes were different, dirtied and a much older fashion than what men wore today, but it was their eyes that stood out most. Andrew’s were the same dazzling hazel she had been looking into since she stepped off the plane in the Florida Keys. Yet, something about them appeared less intense. Michael’s were a soft midnight blue, not the deep fathomless black she had gazed into when he had stood on the balcony.

Both men smiled, their faces lighting with a joy and love she felt clean to her toes, as they continued toward her. Those smiles seemed to break the trance. As suddenly as the world had faded around her, everything began to materialize again. The volume level of the club drowned out the fierce pounding of her pulse in her ears. People returned in her peripheral vision and the sunny open field gave way to the hazy darkness and neon lights of the club.

Chrystal blinked, her lips parting on a soft sound of confusion, as her mind scrambled to make sense of what she had seen. Andrew’s smile faltered as he reached her, concern etching itself between his brows.

“Something’s happened.” Andrew didn’t ask. He told her, obviously reading the bewilderment on her face. His long fingers closed around her shoulder, the contact sending bolts of sizzling desire and need shooting into her already puzzled system and escalating her sudden discomfort. “Chrystal, are you all right?”

“No.” She heard herself whisper and watched the concern between his brows spread to encompass his entire handsome face. “Yes.” She quickly changed her answer, but the lie left a bitter taste in her mouth. She made a sound that was part laughter and bordered on panic. “I don’t know. I—” She cut herself off, realizing she couldn’t explain what had just happened even if she wanted to. She shook her head, tore her gaze from Andrew’s, let her attention skip over Michael, and landed it on the dance floor. “I want to dance.” She made the decision on a whim, needing the time to push whatever the hell she had just seen out of her mind. She set her drink on the table behind her and reached for Andrew’s hand, ignoring yet another bolt of mind-altering longing. “Dance with me.”

Amusement softened Andrew’s expression, covering his concern, but not erasing it completely. “I will, but I wanted to introduce you to Michael, first.”

Chrystal turned her gaze on Michael and extended her free hand. “Hi. I’m—”
Definitely losing it.
Her words scattered in her head as he took her hand and electricity short-circuited her brain. High-voltage desire traveled in a sparking rush up both of her arms, joining in her chest and ricocheting off every erogenous zone in her body. She felt intoxicated, on the verge of sheer delirium, as her nipples pulsed to pebble-hard points, cream seeping from between her feminine lips to coat her panties.

She couldn’t blame her sudden insanity on the Long Island Iced Tea she had ordered. Sure, the drink contained five different kinds of liquor with only a splash of sweet-and-sour mix and Coke to tone down the effect. Still, she’d only taken a couple of sips before Andrew and Michael came up to her.

No, despite what the few remaining sane brain cells in her head were screaming to be a flat-out impossibility, she knew what she was sensing. Power. Potent, otherworldly, animalistic power that felt somehow mixed with a lifelong dose of profound ecstasy.

Somewhere in the dissonant ruckus overtaking her mind and body, she found the fortitude to start again. “Hi. I’m Chrystal. You are Michael.” She beamed a smile at Andrew. “There. We’ve been introduced. Now, let’s dance.”

She started backing toward the dance floor, attempting to drag both men with her. Andrew laughed and took a step forward. Michael didn’t budge. He did smile at her, though, and the effect of his grin nearly made her come.

“The offer is well received, my sweet, but I do not dance.”

“Then you can stand on the dance floor and watch, but you’re coming, too.”

What in the hell is happening to me?

Chrystal knew she was acting as if she had lost her mind. Shit, she was firmly starting to believe she had. What was she doing dragging two men onto the dance floor like this?

To her surprise, Michael stopped protesting. The dancing crowd parted as she led them to the center. She noted how many of the patrons stopped as Michael passed them, staring after him with gaping mouths and wide, astonished eyes.

Michael didn’t seem to notice. His gaze locked with hers, he made her feel as though there was no one else in the club except the two of them. Then applause broke out through the club and the trance was broken.

Michael’s eyes closed slowly, briefly, and the smile on his kissable lips quivered as he obviously tried not to laugh.

Chrystal stepped closer to him, a part of her starting to believe she didn’t need to for him to hear her, but the part of her that wouldn’t put stock in impossibilities compelling her forward. “They know you.”