AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lucas glared at me, the darkness of his expression evident from across the pitch-black room, which was kept safe from light by thick velvet curtains and the surprisingly dense Japanese screens. “Desmond. It’s always about Desmond. Well, before you fall off your high horse, you should acknowledge that Desmond was only there for you. ”
“Don’t try to blame this on me. He came to tell me you weren’t coming. Your best friend almost died, and his blood is all on your hands. ”
“Let’s get real, here. He hasn’t been my best friend in a long time. Not since we met you. ”
A cold chill rocked me. “Get out,” I demanded, clinging to Holden’s arm to keep my composure. “You have no right coming here. ”
“You shouldn’t be here either,” he said coolly.
“Why? It’s not like I have anyone else in my life anymore. ”
Lucas moved suddenly, grabbing Holden’s nightstand and flinging it across the room where it shattered against the brick wall. “You are my wife. Don’t you forget that. ”
Holden stiffened, waiting for my reaction. I sucked in a breath through my nose and looked at the person I’d once loved. I tried to feel something, tried to remember what he’d meant to me. But all I saw was a villain who’d broken my heart and taken away the man I loved.
In spite of the connection through our mate bond, the one that told me he was blind with rage and desperate for me to listen to him, I felt no love. There was no sense of hatred either, though, in spite of how much I tried to will the hot, bitter taste of it up. I wanted to hate him almost as badly as I’d once wanted to truly love him.
All I felt was contempt and sadness.
“What do you want?” I asked, choosing not to quibble with him about our marital status. I’d have time later to find out the finer points of getting a werewolf divorce. We couldn’t be unbonded metaphysically—one of the less-fun aspects of a supernatural love match—but I’d be damned if I was going to stay his were-wife forever.
“Can we speak alone?”
To answer his question, I parked my ass on the rumpled sheets of Holden’s bed and pulled the vampire down next to me. “He’d hear us anyway. Not to mention it’s his apartment you broke into. He gets to stay. ”
The typical Lucas response would have been to insist we speak alone, but what he had to say must have been pretty important if he’d barged into a vampire’s loft at nightfall to haul me out of bed. He pretended as if Holden weren’t in the room with us.
“It’s Kellen. ”
My blood ran cold. It was as if my whole body had been submerged in ice water, and all the sarcasm and loathing seeped out of me, replaced with sharp, urgent fear.
“Did someone hurt her?”
Lucas shook his head. “I don’t know. ” The three words sounded heavy and defeated coming from his mouth. This was a man who didn’t understand what it meant to fail, and he was talking about his younger sister like he’d already lost her. My fear ratcheted up ten notches.
Obviously able to sense my discomfort, or just showing a rare sign of being a gentleman, Holden slid his hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. I didn’t push him away, accepting the kindness without a word.
Looked like we were all going to pretend to be grownups for once.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. ” This time the anger he’d been unable to mask before when shouting at me was more subdued, but I didn’t miss it. “Have you…? Has she talked to you at all?”
I took a brief mental inventory of when I’d last spoken to Kellen. She and my vampire protégée Brigit had been practically glued to my side for the week following Lucas’s…mistake. I’d seen more of Kellen than I had of my own half-sister Eugenia in that time. Not that I blamed Genie. She had responsibilities of her own to deal with in Louisiana, and Kellen’s only responsibilities were what parties she was meant to attend on any given night.
But after a week of heavy girl-bonding, I’d needed to be alone. I’d spoken to her on the phone, but not for several days.
“I’m not sure, maybe Sunday?” It was now Wednesday.
Lucas began to pace the small open area at the foot of the bed. I noticed for the first time how disheveled he looked. His normally tidy blond hair was a mess, and he had a good two days’ worth of stubble on his jaw. The clothes he wore were designer, but considering he was a billionaire, that was a default rather than a fashion-conscious decision. His shirt was wrinkled and buttoned improperly, and there was a coffee stain on the upper thigh of his jeans.
This wasn’t the Lucas I knew.
My Lucas was strong, levelheaded and hardly ever showed a sign of weakness. The man in front of me was frantic and letting it show. I wanted to stage a Moonstruck-style intervention and smack him across the face, hollering, “Snap out of it!” But he looked too far gone for that to help.
He was more than worried. He thought she was already dead.
“How long has it been since someone talked to her?” I asked.
