Embraced By Darkness

Chapter Fourteen

Rhoan took care of Jorn while I rang Jack from one of the phones in the house. He'd actually had a team out looking for us, having realized something was wrong when both of us failed to report in. It might be normal for me not to, but Rhoan always did. He was the good twin when it came to that sort of stuff.

It took a good six hours for Jack's cleanup team to get to the island, because, as I'd suspected, we'd been shipped up to the twin's privately owned island off the Brisbane coast. The blackmailing business was obviously a well-paying one.

While Rhoan waited down near the dock for the boat, I went searching for our IDs and wallets. I not only found them, but Adrienne's soul as well. She was waiting in the back of the house, close to a huge walk-in freezer where her body undoubtedly was. I didn't go check. I had no need to see her flesh when her spirit was standing right in front of me.

You seem familiar, she said, her words running through my mind, as ethereal her body, which merely hinted at red hair and gray eyes, and little else.

And yet there was a strength in her, a surety in her words, that I'd not found with other spirits. Especially other spirits who'd been dead for a while. Generally when I saw the older spirits, they were little more than wisps who had no shape and who could form no words. I wondered if it had anything to do with the psychic gifts she had in life, or perhaps even the fact that she'd known her death was coming, and had been prepared for it.

We share the same pack. I'm Riley.

My reply was somewhat reluctant. There was nothing to be gained by talking to her now, because there was nothing that I could do to help her. We'd stopped her killers and found her remains, so that she'd be scattered on home soil and her soul could rest in peace.

So why was she still here? What was keeping her bound to this earth?

Ah. I remember. My grandfather disliked you.

To put it mildly. Yes.

He sent you to rescue me?

He did. I didn't make it in time, though. I'm sorry.

She smiled, though it was a warmth that washed across the air more than any real facial movement in the mist that was her body. Sometimes fate will not be derailed.

Very true. I hesitated. Is there something you would like me to do for you?

Tell Jodie I'm sorry. Tell her that I loved her, no matter how often it seemed that work was more important. She hesitated. And tell her not to join me too soon. She has a long, good life yet to lead.

If Jodie had her way, she'd be joining Adrienne in the afterlife as soon as possible. But perhaps Adrienne's words would give her the courage to go on in this life. Can do.

And make sure my father obeys my will. Jodie is to have what is mine. Promise me you'll make him give her what she's due.

The grin that split my lips was decidedly nasty. I wondered if she would understand why. Wondered if she could even see it. I promise they won't cheat Jodie out of a cent.

She sighed, and it was a sound filled with relief. Thank you.

Her words hung on the air as her image began to fade. Obviously, that had been the reason she'd been clinging to this existence. She'd wanted to take care of her lover.

Nice to know that love lingered even in the afterlife.

"Be happy, wherever you're going, Adrienne," I said, oddly wishing that I'd known her better. I had a feeling that she and I would have gotten along just fine.

Which was odd really, considering my overall hatred for her whole damn family. But then, I guess she'd been an outsider, just like me. Only her fault was her sexuality, not her parentage.

I left the room and the fading warmth of her presence, and went down to the dock to wait for the team with my brother.

It was another six hours before we finally stepped out of the terminal at Tullamarine. As Rhoan waved clown a cab, I sucked in the cool evening air and felt an odd sense of peace run through me. Cold or not, this was home, and it felt good to be here.

It would feel even better once I had Kellen's arms around me. But before I could go to him, I had a promise to fulfill. To do that, I needed to go back to the Directorate and start investigating. Threats wouldn't bring Blake to heel. He'd lived with violence all his life, and it held no fear for him. Blackmail was a different story. And the pup who had listened unnoticed at too many doors knew more than a few pack secrets. Now that my grandfather was dead, I had no reason not to use them.

The long shadows of night were creeping in as I walked up Miller Street, heading toward Brighton beach. Houses worth more than I could ever imagine loomed around me, but my gaze barely left the main prize—a modern brick and glass house at the far end of the street.

Blake was inside. So were Patrin and Kye. The pack didn't actually own the house. According to the records we'd found, it belonged to a judge who just happened to be one of Blake's buddies. He was currently overseas on holidays, and had given Blake the run of his "beach hut." I was betting he was also the reason Blake had gotten his hands on all the police files he'd sent to me.

"Okay, we're set," Rhoan said into my ear. "Liander's wired into the security systems, and he'll switch off all alarms and sensors at seven forty-five."

I glanced at my watch. Five minutes to go. Perfect. "And positioning?"

"According to the infrared, we have two people on the ground floor, and two in the first floor living area."

Meaning the first floor bedroom was free—exactly what I needed. I shifted my arm and let the thin white rope slide from my shoulder to my hand. The claw-hook was hanging out of my back pocket. I got it and began attaching it to the end of the rope. "So Kye and an unknown are keeping watch downstairs, and Blake and Patrin are upstairs."

"I do so like it when a plan comes together."

I smiled. "Have fun inside, brother."

"You can bet on it."

I stopped in the shadows of a wattle tree one house down from Blake's, and scanned the area. No one was around, and none of the three men were visible through the windows of their house. Not that they'd see me once I wrapped the night around me.

I glanced at my watch again. Two minutes to go. I waited in the shadows, excitement and the bitter need to get revenge pulsing through me. When the minute hand finally clicked onto seven forty-five, I pulled the shadows around me, then leapt the fence and raced across the well-manicured garden, around to the bedroom balcony. One neat toss had the rope and hook over the balcony wall. I tested it had snagged properly, then quickly climbed.

The balcony doors weren't locked. Kye and his friend were obviously relying on the no-longer-working sensors and alarms to warn of intruders. I slipped through the doors and padded across the huge white-on-white bedroom. According to the floor plans we'd found, there was a parent retreat beyond the main bedroom, with the main living areas beyond that. I carefully opened the bedroom door and peered out. The retreat room was shadowed, but the door at the end was open, allowing a good glimpse of the main rooms beyond it. Patrin was sitting in a lounge chair, reading the Age. Blake wasn't immediately in sight, but infrared told me he was sitting at the dining table, doing paperwork.

I slipped out the door and raced across the room. The lights tore the shadows away from me the minute I entered the living room, but I was moving so fast they never had a chance to see me anyway. I grabbed Patrin by the scruff of the neck and hauled him upright. He barely had time to yelp a warning before I'd grabbed Blake, yanked him off his chair, and threw him across the room. As he bounced off a wall and slithered awkwardly to the floor, I switched my grip on Patrin, thrusting upward by the neck until his feet were off the floor. He was a big man and it took a lot of effort, but the sheer look of terror on his face made it all worthwhile.

"Consider this my final progress report, as well as a little warning," I said, as Blake picked himself up off the ground. "We've found Adrienne's body, and we've taken care of the men who killed her. Now I want you out of my life forever."

"There's no need for—"

I cut him off. "Oh, there's every fucking need."

I dropped Patrin a little, then heaved him with all my strength, throwing him across the dining table. He didn't quite clear it, his butt and legs getting entangled in the chairs, sending both him and the chairs crashing to the floor. He yelped but didn't move, and the scent of his fear was a wonderful thing.

I stalked forward to Blake. He didn't back away, didn't move, and the look of contempt hadn't shifted from his face. "The threat of violence doesn't worry me."

"Good," I said, stopping several feet away from him. "Because I have no intention of hitting you. I will, however, destroy you and your whole family if you do not leave my mother alone, or if you contest, in any way, Adrienne's will."

He blinked, surprise briefly moving the contempt. "Why would you care about Adrienne's will?"

"Because she asked me to care."

"What?"

I smiled coldly. "The pack trait of clairvoyance didn't only go strange in Adrienne. I can speak to the dead. I spoke to her."

"Even if I choose to believe that, what I or my family choose to do in regard to Adrienne's will is none of your business."

"Adrienne made it my business." I stepped forward, until I was all but standing on his toes. This close, I could feel his body vibrating with the force of his anger, and part of me wished he'd just let it go. Give me an excuse to hit him. "I've done a little investigating of my own, Blake. Does the name Petri Constructions ring any bells inside that thick head of yours?"

Wariness flickered through his eyes. "Of course. It is a building firm the pack owns and runs."

Sound whispered behind me. "Take one more step, Patrin, and I'll throw you off the balcony." He stopped. I smiled benignly at Blake, and said, "Petri Constructions was a successful business concern that belonged to one Shawn Davis, a friend of yours from way back. When he died—of apparently natural causes—his will surprisingly left the construction company to you rather than his pack and family."

"So?"

"So, as I said, I've done a little digging. I found his grave and talked to his soul." Which was my first lie, but Blake was never going to know that. "Seems things surrounding Davis's death and will aren't quite as straightforward as they appeared. It also seems that it took the disappearance of one Michael Davis from the Davis red pack to stop them contesting the will." I grabbed his collar and dragged his face down to mine. "I will destroy you, Blake, if you do not leave my mother alone, or if you contest Adrienne's will. Destroy you, and ensure you and your whole damn get live in poverty and disgrace for the rest of your lives. And I will love every single fucking minute of it."

I threw him back, suddenly needing to rid his scent from my nostrils. He hit the wall with a grunt, and flung out an arm to brace himself.

"Do you believe me?" I said softly.

"Yes," he replied, his voice filled with murderous fury. Fury he knew he couldn't unleash. And that was such a delicious sensation.

I glanced at Patrin, then said, "Rhoan, all finished up here. Meet you out front." I looked back at Blake. "And don't think about enlisting your cop or judge buddies to help you out of this situation. They're going to have enough problems of their own."

He didn't say anything. Didn't do anything. He couldn't, and he knew it. It was sweeter, so much sweeter, than using my fists as I had so often dreamed of doing.

I gave him a smile, then turned and walked across to the balcony. The leap down to the ground jarred my leg, but I refused to limp as Rhoan joined me and we walked away.

As soon as I got home, I rang Kellen. I desperately wanted to see him now that everything else had been sorted out. I wanted to tell him my news, my decision. Get my new life—our new life—underway.

My fingers were shaking as I pressed his number. It rang several times, and then a voice said, "Yes?"

For several beats I wasn't entirely sure it was him. His voice sounded rough, tired almost beyond recognition.

"Kellen? It's Riley."

"You're home?"

"Yes. Do you want to meet somewhere, or would you rather I come over to your place?"

"I'll come to you," he said, then hung up.

I frowned down at the phone for several seconds, not quite believing that he'd hung up on me. He wasn't usually so abrupt, but maybe it was just the tiredness. He'd sounded like hell, so maybe work had been a pain in the ass again.

"Everything okay?" Rhoan asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah." He was coming to see me, and that was all I had to worry about for the moment. "What are your plans for the evening?"

"I'll shower, change, then head over to Liander's. He'll be wanting to kiss my war wounds better."

I snorted. "You hardly have a damn scratch on you."

"I have a bump on the head."

"Hardly worth sympathy."

"You're just jealous of my beautiful, unmarred skin."

This from the man who had almost as many scars as I did. "Totally," I said dryly.

He grinned and gave me a hug. "Being a guardian is so much more fun now that you're one of us."

"Being a guardian is many things, but I wouldn't say a fun time was one of them."

"Depends on your definition of fun, doesn't it?"

"Well, getting shot and blowing away bad guys is not mine." I paused, feeling the lie in my words but still not wanting to acknowledge it. Dammit, I wasn't my brother, I wouldn't enjoy my job. I wouldn't. "The only guys I want to blow are sexy good guys, and only in a sexual sense."

Not that that was a thrill I'd be pursuing any time soon with anyone other than Kellen. And while there was a part of me that was sad over that, mostly I was just happy to be pursuing a long-held dream with someone I cared about, and who cared for me.

It might not work out in the end, I knew that, but at least I was here, taking the chance instead of skipping away from it.

The cab finally pulled up at the front of our apartment building. Rhoan paid the driver with his credit card while I raced upstairs to get first dibs on the shower and the hot water.

Once clean, and with coffee and chocolate in hand, I sat down on the sofa to wait for Kellen. My brother showered and then headed out, leaving me alone to a silence that seemed filled with expectations. Thankfully, it wasn't all that long before Kellen's footsteps echoed in the hall and his rich, warm scent drifted on the air.

I walked over to the door and opened it. He looked good, despite the tiredness etched deep in his face, and my heart did this happy little dance.

"Hey," I said, a smile splitting my lips. "Nice to see you again."

"And it's a damn relief to see you." He stepped through the door and wrapped his arms around me, holding me so tight it was difficult to breathe.

And I didn't care one little bit. It felt so good, so safe, so right. Like all my troubles, all my worries, just faded away under the warm security of his touch.

"Would you like a coffee?" I said into his shoulder, not wanting to move and yet knowing we couldn't stay in the doorway forever. "And I'll tell you what happened."

He pulled away slightly, and there was something in his eyes, an intensity that I'd never seen before, that made me oddly nervous.

"The coffee can wait. And I know what happened."

I arched an eyebrow at the edge in his voice. "Jack contacted you?"

"Jack or the Directorate didn't tell me squat."

Confusion swirled, and right in amongst it, apprehension stirred. "Then how do you know what happened?"

"Because it's what always happens. Your job got messy and you totally forgot about the other people in your life while you were dealing with it."

Ouch.

But at least his comment explained the reason for the edge in his voice and the anger in his eyes. "I was supposed to meet you for lunch, wasn't I?"

"Yeah." He gripped my arm and led me over to the sofa. "But as usual, I wasn't first in your thoughts."

"That's not true—"

"It's been true from the word go," he said grimly. "I've just done my best to ignore the fact until now."

He sat me down, then sat down on the sofa opposite. "We need to talk. Here and now."

"I agree."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yes. Because I've come to a decision."

"And what might that be?"

He said it in an angry, resigned sort of way that made my heart ache. He was expecting the worst, and that was my fault, because I'd never really given him anything more of myself than a few weeks away together. Every time he'd asked me for more, I'd asked for more time. I kept saying I wanted a relationship, but every time he tried to pin me down, I'd made up excuses or reasons as to why I couldn't.

Well, not anymore.

"I want to make the commitment and go solo with you. I want to see if this thing between us is real or not."

He stared at me for a moment, the intensity in his eyes sharpening. And suddenly there were butterflies in my stomach and my heart was doing a crazy sick dance.

Because something was wrong.

He wasn't reacting in the way I'd expected at all. There was no joy, no relief, nothing. No damn reaction at all. He just sat there, looking at me, with that odd intensity in his eyes and a tautness around his mouth.

"Say something," I said softly. Pleadingly.

"That's great."

But it was mechanically said, with no warmth or feeling behind it. And yet the air was sharp with tension, and his green eyes fairly burned with emotion. What exactly that emotion was I couldn't say, because it seemed a mess of anger, desire, determination, and God knows what else.

It frightened me, as his response to my words was frightening me.

What was going on?

Why was he doing this, reacting like this, when he'd finally heard the words he'd been pressing me to say for weeks?

I didn't understand it, but I feared it.

God how I feared it.

I crossed my arms and leaned forward on my knees, my hands clenched out of his sight. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said abruptly, then sighed and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "And everything."

"That doesn't tell me a whole lot," I said, and this time there was a touch of anger in my voice. But its source was the fear. The concern over the way he was reacting.

He looked at me for a moment, then shook his head. "You really don't see the problem, do you?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here feeling so sick to my stomach. I'd be trying to fix whatever it is."

He leaned forward and pulled a hand free from under my arm, wrapping his fingers around mine. His skin was warm compared to mine, his touch strong and steady. "Why didn't you ring me when you couldn't make lunch?"

Exasperation ran through me. An exasperation wrapped in anger, and it made my voice sharp. Or maybe that was the fear twisting deep inside. "Because a psycho knocked me out and kidnapped me."

"So why didn't you ring me when you were free?"

"Because there was still stuff to do, things that needed cleaning up."

"So they were all more important than making a simple phone call?"

"I just wanted it all over so I could concentrate on you." You and me. I bit my lip and blinked.

Dammit, I would not cry.

I wouldn't.

Not until I was sure there was something to cry about.

He caressed my wrist with a gentle finger. As warm and as good as his touch was, it only succeeded in stirring the butterflies in my stomach to an even greater frenzy.

"As I said before, I'm never first in your thoughts, Riley. I'm never the one you turn to, never the one you share hurt, or pain, or dreams with. I care for you—care for you a lot—but I'm beginning to doubt the feeling is returned."

"Which is why we go solo—to discover if this is the real, soul mate deal, or just another good thing not meant to last."

"But I can't go solo as things stand. The last few days have proven that."

Maybe I was dense. Maybe the last few days had been tougher than I'd thought, because he was confusing the hell out me. And yet I had a feeling that he thought it should have been all so perfectly clear. "What do you mean?"

He smiled, and it was a tired smile, a smile filled with sadness. "I'm an alpha, remember? As I keep reminding you, it is in my nature to want to protect all that is mine. But there can never be any protecting you. Not with your job."

"I'm not expecting—"

"I know, and that's not my point." He hesitated, then added more softly, "Do you know what it is like, being left behind? Knowing that you're in danger, that at any second you could be killed, and that there's nothing, absolutely nothing, I can do to help you?"

I touched his cheek lightly. He didn't lean into it, didn't react in any way. It seemed he was holding more than the emotion in his words in check.

"But I'm here, I'm safe," I said, after a moment.

"And one day, you might not be here, might not be safe." He squeezed my hand, then released me and sat back. Moving away from my touch. And I felt sick, so sick, that bile rose up my throat and I had to swallow heavily.

"I can't live like that, Riley. It's just not in my nature."

"But—"

"The only way we could work is if you give up your job. Otherwise, there's just no way we could last."

"I can't—" The words came out an agonized cry. Of all the things I wanted in this world, that had to be second in line, right after a family of my own. I'd love to give up my job as a guardian, and just be another wolf working for the Directorate. Like I had been, before Talon and Misha and their psycho brother had come into my life.

But with the drug in my system starting to make huge changes, I dared not walk away, even if I could. Who knew what was yet to come?

I couldn't handle it alone. Couldn't rely on Rhoan. We simply didn't have the resources to monitor what was going on in my body.

"Can't, or won't?" he said, harshly.

"Dammit, Kellen, this is unfair!" I thrust to my feet and began pacing. "You've asked for a commitment and now that I'm ready for that, you're backing away and saying we can't work. Where is the justice in that?"

"There's no justice, just honesty, which in this case is more important."

He stood and walked up behind me. But I stepped away from his touch, unwilling to feel the familiar warmth of his arms. Control was tenuous enough as it was. I might just lose it if he held me tenderly while in the middle of breaking up with me.

He dropped his hands to his side, then added, "I can't help what I am any more than you can. I don't want to make this decision, Riley, honestly I don't. But I can't spend a lifetime waiting at home for you. Wondering if this time will be the time that you don't come home. I believe we could be good together, but I want the whole white picket fence ideal, and that just doesn't include a soul mate who risks her life and our happiness on a daily basis."

I wrapped my arms around my body and just looked at him. I was shaking, shivering, because suddenly there was no warmth in the room. Or maybe it was because my future suddenly seemed as bleak and as lonely as it had in the worst of my dreams.

Why do this now? I wanted to scream. You knew what I was, you knew about my job. Why do this when Yd finally decided to take that step, to take a chance?

But I kept the rage and frustration and hurt inside, and didn't do or say anything.

Because deep down I understood.

I mightn't like his words, might hate his actions, but the truth was, I understood them. I wouldn't want to be committed to someone whose job was so dangerous that I knew one day he simply wouldn't come home. That one day, I'd feel his death and know my life and my heart had just turned to ashes.

It was a big thing to ask of anyone.

Cops and firemen knew all about it. They had the highest percentages of divorce and relationship breakdowns for good reason.

Even so, I couldn't help saying, "Don't do this." Please don't do this.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Riley, I really am. But the last few days have really brought home just what life with you will be like if you don't give up work. And I'd rather live without you than live with that."

My eyes were stinging, my body shaking, and my heart seemed to be just aching deep in my chest. And I couldn't think of anything to say, because there was nothing to say. His mind was made up, and nothing short of me quitting my job was going to change that.

I should have let myself smash down on the rocks. It would have hurt a whole lot less.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, then said, "Go. Just go."

"Riley—"

"No," I said. Forcefully, flatly. "No more. There's nothing else you can say or do to make this any better."

He stared at me for several seconds, an aching, angry heat I could feel more than see, then turned on his heels and walked out.

As the door clicked shut, the tears came. Great, sobbing gasps of pain that came from deep within, from the place that had held so many dreams.

Dreams that now lay shattered and broken on the ground.

Just like my heart.