Chosen by Sin Read online

  “And this lover in heat?”

  “She’s a lover. End of story.”

  “You’ve been with her since meeting Jes?”

  “Does that surprise you? Did Jes imply we’d made promises to each other? Because we haven’t. I hardly know her. I wasn’t looking for a relationship or family. I’m still not.” But even to him, his protest sounded a little weak. Why? It was true. Wasn’t it?

  “Yeah, well, like I said before, it’s your loss.” With a final look of disgust, Cy turned back to the mage. “Dex needs to ask you some questions. He’s a friend of Jes’s, so you can trust him. For now.”

  The mage looked at Dex, her expression serious, all trace of sweetness and light gone. “What do you need to know?”

  “What do you know about shape-shifters and dark spirits?”

  “Diabols? Why?” Again, her gaze darted to his chest before returning to his face.

  Automatically, Dex rubbed at the tender area just over his heart. Was it his imagination, or had she honed right in on it? “Because shape-shifters are killing shape-shifters and I’m trying to help stop it.”

  This time, she looked down at her suddenly wringing hands before she seemed to consciously relax them. “And what if you can’t?” she asked softly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, what if you can’t?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

  “There are some things so powerful, they can’t be stopped. Not by mere mortals. Maybe not even by immortals.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t buy that,” Dex reassured her.

  “I suppose that’s good. Maybe it’ll help you.”

  “Help me what?”

  “Help you fight the diabol that’s after you.”

  ***

  So far so good, Jes thought.

  She didn’t seem to be suffering any negative effects because Dex was off the castle grounds, and neither did the baby. Its life force was a comforting presence inside her. Though it didn’t move, its energy intensified whenever Dex was in the room. In case it was worried, she rubbed her stomach and said, “Don’t worry, little one. Your father will be back soon. Stay with me, okay?”

  It was nice to feel hope again. At first, she’d been so worried about losing the baby then about Dex’s reaction to the news that she’d barely allowed herself to imagine what her life would be like once the baby was here. It was partly a defense mechanism; experience had taught her that the more she envisioned that kind of life, the more devastated she’d be when it didn’t happen. Right now, she needed to be smart, stay healthy, and keep her focus.

  Finding Rurik Pitts’s body in the woodshed had certainly thrown her equilibrium off. At first she’d thought the werebeast had come after her, either to kill her or to extort more money. A host of questions had swiftly followed: Did he know Dex was here? Had he come to warn Dex about her? Had he brought anyone else who knew about her? And, of course, who had killed Pitts, and why?

  Thankfully, she’d managed to keep her composure and Dex had taken care of the rest, immediately assuming that Rurik had traveled to France because of him. Even as relief had overcome her, she’d been tempted to tell Dex the truth—not just about Pitts, but about everything.

  The legend. His grandfather. The blood she’d taken.

  Aside from freaking out about the baby and trying to choke Cy to death, Dex was proving to be enjoyable company. Revealing bits and pieces about himself through his actions and so far confirming why she’d liked him from the very beginning. Then there was the fact he’d been so tender when they’d made love in the library…

  She wanted to get to know that Dex Hunt better.

  And telling him the truth would ensure that never happened.

  So she hadn’t told him the truth.

  Hadn’t told him anything.

  Even though part of her wondered if Pitts’s death had anything to do with Dex’s crazed behavior and possible possession by a dark spirit.

  Instead, she’d convinced him to go to the village with Cy. She’d obviously meant it when she’d said she didn’t want to interfere with his job. She wanted him to help keep their baby alive, but his job put a lot of pieces in motion, and ignoring any one of them could prove disastrous.

  At least her autopsy of Rurik Pitts had been fruitful. The werebeast had died of a heart attack. His presence in France was still a mystery, but he’d died from natural causes, which made it less likely something dangerous was lurking on the castle grounds.

  Since Dex and Cy were still gone, she decided to take advantage of Dex’s absence to continue working in her lab. She collected the vials of Dex’s precious blood and ran several more tests. The results were similar to the others. Except for his vampire ancestry, Dex’s blood showed no signs of extraordinary power. Unfortunately, that meant she had to move to the experimental phase of her research sooner than later.

  Her first plan was to see if Dex’s blood had any healing or life-prolonging properties even though her initial tests hadn’t shown it. Using laboratory mice infected with a debilitating virus, she injected them with Dex’s blood. She took another set of mice and slathered the blood on them topically. Then she slipped a couple of vials of blood into her lab coat pocket and headed off to see Bodin. She wouldn’t inject him with the blood yet, but if the mice didn’t suffer any ill effects, and if Bodin’s health continued to decline, she might not have any other choice.

  On the way to Bodin’s room, she wrestled with whether she should tell him about Dex. She’d been going back and forth on the subject since Dex had arrived. Would it be wise to alert Bodin to Dex’s presence, even if Bodin had acted in Dex’s best interests when he’d sent him away?

  Her steps slowed for a moment. She supposed part of her didn’t believe that. When it came down to it, Bodin hadn’t necessarily acted in Dex’s best interests. He’d acted to keep Dex alive, which wasn’t the same thing at all. Still, his actions were understandable. Those of a man left with few choices, all of them difficult ones.

  Still undecided about what to do, she knocked on Bodin’s door. He was in an isolated room meant to house quarantined patients. It was on the other side of the castle from Dex’s room, and one had to get through several locked doors to get to it; only she and Amanda had the keys.

  “Come in.”

  At Bodin’s soft call, she stepped inside. When she saw the werewolf leader, she strove to keep her expression blank. Now he had deep wrinkles tracking his face to go with his white hair.

  Yet when Bodin looked up and saw her, his eyes lit up with the same intelligence and vibrancy that they’d always held. He reached out his hand. “Jes,” he said softly.

  Even his voice is different, she thought. It used to boom with authority, and now it was barely more than a whisper. She took his hand and kissed it. Held it for several seconds against her cheek, yearning for the strength he’d once possessed and that she’d so infrequently been able to lean on.

  “You look good,” he murmured. “You’ve been resting.”

  “I have. Yes,” she replied.

  “Good. That’s good. Amanda came to see me earlier. She said you had another patient. A werebeast. Do I know him?”

  Would he know him? She sighed, unwilling to lie, given Bodin’s direct question. On some level, she was certain that’s why Amanda had mentioned Dex to him in the first place. “Actually, I think you do know him. But I need to talk to you about something first. Something important.”

  “All right.”

  She sat in the chair next to the bed. “As you know, I’ve been furthering my research on extending life. I had a lead in L.A. and—and I’ve brought something back with me.” She held up the vial of Dex’s blood.

  Bodin’s brows furrowed even as he smiled. “What’s that?”

  “It’s blood. It’s blood that I think is very powerful. The blood of a werewolf. And a vampire.”

  Bodin’s quizzical expression slowly disappeared. “Vampire? And werewolf?”

  Jes s
imply continued to look at him, saying nothing.

  If possible, Bodin paled to almost the exact same color as his hair.

  “No. No, Jes. No.”

  “Shhh. It’s okay,” she said. “I heard about the legend from the Draci. The day you brought me here, I saw how you reacted when Lacrosse asked you about it. I knew that—”

  “Damn it, girl. What have you done?” he shouted. With more strength than she’d expected him to have, he grabbed her arm. She automatically tried to pull away, but he yanked her closer.

  “What have you done?” he asked.

  She scrambled for something to say. All that came to mind was, “I met Dex. Il est ici. He’s here.”

  Bodin blinked. Slowly, his fingers loosened and he fell back against his pillows.

  “Dex? The Boy is here?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure it’s him?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes filled with tears, not because he’d grabbed her but because she could see the sheer love and relief that flashed across his face, as well as the way he blinked away moisture in his eyes.

  “He’s alive,” he clarified. “You’ve met him? What’s he like?”

  She laughed. “He’s handsome. Stubborn. Strong. He works for the FBI, on a team comprised of humans and Otherborn. He doesn’t lead the Para-Ops team, but he’s a commanding presence on it. Essential to its success. To peace in the States.”

  Bodin nodded. “A warrior. I always knew that’s what he was. So you know that he’s the one? The one to fulfill the legend?”

  “Yes,” she said gently. “At least, I believe he is. I put things together. Lacrosse’s question. Your response. And Rita, the Draci seer—”

  “The mysterious one who wore that damn cloak all the time,” Bodin bit out.

  Jes nodded. “She helped me, too. I asked around, but very discreetly. Most of all, I know you. I knew you wouldn’t ostracize your grandson simply because he’s a half-breed. Or if you did, it was so you could protect him.”

  “Foolish girl. How can you know that?”

  “Because that’s what you did with me. You saved me. And you knew I couldn’t live with your pack and remain safe. So you brought me here.”

  “You’ve always thought too good of me, Jes.” He picked up her hand and squeezed it.

  Jes frowned. His fingers were cold. Too cold. She said, “And you’ve always given me reason to.”

  “So you’re trying to confirm whether the legend is true. By testing his blood?”

  “My initial tests were inconclusive, showing only his heritage but not whether he has an immortal gift. I’m running tests on actual subjects now. Using his blood. But do you know another way? Do you know how Dex would be able to gift another immortality?”

  Bodin shook his head and for a second looked immensely sad. “Does he know what he is?”

  Disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders. Since the legend didn’t specify the exact nature of the immortal gift, she hadn’t really expected Bodin to have the answer, but she’d hoped. “No. He doesn’t know. And he doesn’t know what I suspect.”

  “I don’t understand. Then why is he here?”

  “He came to France for a mission. Something about shape-shifters killing shape-shifters. But he hasn’t gotten much information from the shape-shifter leaders.”

  Bodin scowled. “Shape-shifters are nothing but trouble. Let them kill each other.”

  Jes’s eyes widened in shock and he obviously noticed. His gaze flickered with regret. “I told you, you’ve always thought too good of me.”

  Not willing to believe that, she said, “You—you promote peace between Otherborn.”

  “Shape-shifters are different,” he answered. “Dark. With the ability to consort with darkness.”

  Darkness? As in a demon that might possess a werebeast so he tries to kill someone he just met? “What darkness—” she began, but Bodin cut her off.

  “No more talk of shape-shifters,” he commanded. “Why else is Dex here. With you? In this castle?”

  This time, she hesitated several beats, not wanting to drop the subject of dark shape-shifters but also for another reason she couldn’t quite comprehend…But Bodin was as much a father to her as any she’d had. Part of her couldn’t resist sharing her joy with him. “I’m pregnant. I’m carrying your great-grandson.”

  Bodin didn’t even look surprised. Had he guessed?

  He only nodded. He sank deeper into the bed and pulled the sheets up around him, as if he was ready to fall asleep. He even closed his eyes. “You need to send Dex away. Trouble will follow him. The legend isn’t true. But if you believed in it enough to find him, others will, too.”

  “You don’t understand, Bodin. I can’t let him leave. I need him here. My baby needs him. If not in the castle, then at least in France. We’re connected somehow, and it’s through Dex’s strength that my baby keeps his own.”

  Bodin’s eyes flickered opened and this time his expression was devoid of all emotion. “Does he know I’m here?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Don’t tell him. If he finds out, he’ll leave. He hates me. Likely wants to kill me. Whether or not he’d actually try, we can’t know for sure, but I do know this—he will leave you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Dex didn’t even bother protesting the mage’s words. She believed a dark spirit was targeting him and he wasn’t taking any chances. Better that she turn out to be wrong than he make the mistake of not listening to her when she was right.

  The mage led them to a room at the back of her shop and waved at them to sit at a small table. When they were all settled, Dex urged, “Tell me about this diabol.”

  “They are everywhere. Always. The dead who haven’t been allowed entry into the Otherworld, but have been banished to hell for their cruelty and misdeeds. Their hell is to walk beside the living, unseen and unheard. Forever reminded of the life they squandered. They have an energy. An aura. I can sense traces of the aura on you.” She reached out and lightly touched his chest. “In you.”

  Dex swallowed loudly and shifted away from the mage’s touch. “If they’re everywhere, how can you tell the spirit’s been inside me?”

  “They are everywhere, but also nowhere. Normally they don’t have the power to interact with the living. When they acquire that power, their aura changes. Becomes brighter instead of its normally subdued gray.”

  “And shape-shifters? What’s their role in all this?”

  “It’s rumored that certain shape-shifters can create a bridge that connects a diabol to the world of the living.”

  “And in doing so, shape-shifters can facilitate individuals being possessed by diabols?”

  “Yes. Once the bridge to the living is made, a diabol can thereafter possess an individual that’s weak enough.”

  Cy coughed, earning a glower from Dex. Dex turned back to the mage. “What do you mean, weak? I’m not weak, and the shape-shifter who attacked me wasn’t weak, either.”

  “Not weak in the physical sense. But people have natural barriers that protect them from darkness. Those barriers falter when the person is experiencing intense negative emotion.”

  “Like?”

  “Anger. Guilt. Jealousy.”

  “You wouldn’t have any experience with those emotions, would you, Hunt?” Cy taunted.

  But Dex didn’t even look at him this time. He’d felt all those things since meeting Jes, and he’d been beyond distressed after she’d told him she was pregnant. It would have been the perfect opportunity for some dark spirit just waiting to get the jump on him.

  “So possession is random?” he asked, trying to understand. “A diabol waits to find a weakness and then exploits it?”

  The mage shook her head. “No. It’s extremely rare for diabols to connect with the living world. When they do, they usually have an agenda. A particular person they attach to. For some reason, this diabol has attached to you. You have something it wants. Or
you can lead it to what it wants.”

  “The way Trosseau led it to me.”

  “It appears so.”

  “Why me? Why not him?” Dex notched his chin at Cy. “He was there, too.”

  “That I do not know.” The mage stood, almost as if she wanted to end their conversation. Dex remained planted in the rustic wood chair. He did, however, rub his hands together, conscious of the sudden chill in the air that existed despite the temperate weather outside.

  “But why would the diabol try to kill me? If he wanted to possess me, why have Trosseau attack me?”

  “Perhaps it only looked like he meant to kill you when what the diabol really wanted was to weaken you so you’d let it inside you. Then it could control you, if only for a short time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Beside him, Cy shifted and leaned forward, his expression one of rapt attention.

  “In creating a bridge,” the mage explained, “a shape-shifter enables the diabol to take on the disguise of another. The shape-shifter gives it form. Dresses it, if you will. That’s why shape-shifters who’ve pledged themselves to diabols are sometimes referred to as Demon Tailors. They help demons access the living through the physical world as well as through dreams.”

  Dex felt his brows shoot up. Seeing this, the mage’s eyes widened.

  “You already know this?” she asked him.

  “I had a weird dream before coming to France. A dream in which an old friend visited me and tried to kill me. But after I arrived in France, after I was possessed—assuming that’s what happened, of course—we found him nearby. Dead.”

  The mage actually backed several steps away. “Protéger cette âme des esprits sombres.”

  Dex stood. “What does that mean?”

  When she just shook her head, Cy said, “It means ‘protect this soul from dark spirits.’ A protection prayer.”

  “Will that ward off possession?”

  Cy shrugged and Dex pinned the mage with his gaze.

  She raised a shaky hand to her temple, then took a deep, calming breath. “If I did a full protection spell, it could. But the spell is only as strong as my power, and there are ways for a diabol to circumvent it. Especially if it seeks to possess a dreamer. That kind of possession is rarer than the other and is far more dangerous.”