Chosen by Sin Page 19

  She took her seat again and motioned for Dex to do the same. When he did, she asked, “Tell me, did this old friend appear in dreams while you were here in France? Before you were possessed?”

  “No. But that’s because I never had a chance to actually sleep, not in France, at least not before I was possessed. I never had a chance to dream. After I was possessed, I lost consciousness but—”

  “It could have come to you then. Either you don’t remember or your friend was already dead, in which case the diabol could not use him as a guise.”

  “Why is it more dangerous for a diabol to possess a dreamer?”

  “In real life, a diabol can only possess someone for a limited time. During that time, the body it possesses will be infused with the power of dark magic. Likely this will be evident through the host’s supernatural strength. But in a dream, the diabol must approach the dreamer in the guise of someone familiar. Not necessarily someone he trusts, but someone he believes would be in his dream. So if a diabol entered my dream disguised as you, that would be expected, familiar, since we’ve met. Do you understand?”

  “So far. Go on.”

  “In my dream, you could only do what I expected you to do. Your strength would only be evident to the degree I expected it.”

  “So if I knew the strength of this person firsthand, it would be delineated as such. In the dream, I mean.”

  “Yes. Because the diabol and its guise are joined, with the spirit knowing what the guise knows and acting the way the guise would act, it fools your mind into letting it in.”

  So Dex’s subconscious had presumably forced this diabol to disguise himself as Rurik in order to enter Dex’s dream. “But after I woke from my dream, certain things occurred that copied the dream, while others didn’t. Identical conversations. Thoughts. Something like deja vu.”

  “That was an indication that the guise or the diabol had been watching you for some time. Following you. Following your friends. It knew what was going to happen before it actually became clear to you.”

  “But why invade through dreams at all? What does the diabol gain?”

  “Life. If a diabol disguised as a familiar succeeds in killing the dreamer in his dream, it’s said he has the power to take over the dreamer’s body. Permanently.”

  Permanently. The word echoed around him until urgency poked at Dex like a cattle prod. Fear caused him to break into a sweat. He suddenly remembered Jes’s patient, the shape-shifter who had been shot. She’d said he would be recovering for days, which meant he was likely still at the castle. If that was the case, that shape-shifter would have been close enough to bridge the dark spirit that had possessed Dex.

  “The shape-shifter at the castle,” Dex gritted out.

  Cy’s eyes widened.

  “I need to get back to the castle. Fast,” Dex told Cy. “I’m going to shift and run.” He turned back to the mage. “Can you come with us? I need you to put a protective spell in place. Can you protect a castle? A group of individuals?”

  “I can try.”

  “You think Jes is in danger?” Cy asked.

  “If Trosseau led the diabol to me, how do I know I didn’t lead it to Jes, or to one of the other people at the castle?”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No, but it doesn’t make sense that a dark spirit wants something from me, either.”

  “That’s not true. You work for the FBI. If a diabol possessed your body, it would be able to access people and places that could impact a whole helluva lot of people.”

  Shit. Cy was right. But that didn’t mean Jes wasn’t in trouble, did it? He couldn’t be certain. He stood. “I’m shifting.” He didn’t waste any time finding someplace private to do it.

  His skin tightened until it felt agonizingly too small. His bones and organs expanded, rippling inside him, forcing his skin to stretch as tawny fur began to sprout from his follicles. The rippling was in his face, too, threatening to push his eyeballs out of their sockets. His teeth sharpened and elongated, and he clenched them together to stifle his moans. Finally, bones broke and blood stained his fur as his form shrank. The pain smothered him until he wasn’t even sure who he was anymore.

  Then it was over.

  He was wolf.

  He raised his muzzle to look at Cy, who was staring at him in horror.

  “I guess I don’t enjoy seeing you in pain as much as I would have thought,” the male said faintly.

  Dex bolted out of the mage’s shop and down the main street of the village.

  As he ran, he tried telling himself that Jes was fine. There was no reason to think she was in danger. It was just all the talk of dark demons and devil spirits trying to take over people through their dreams that had him edgy.

  But he wasn’t taking any chances, either.

  Earlier, he’d enjoyed dining with her almost as much as he’d enjoyed having sex with her. Nor had he imagined the tremendous respect he’d felt for her when she’d urged him to go to the village, either. She’d wanted to give Dex what he needed, even though she wanted to protect her baby—their baby.

  For the first time, thinking of himself as a father didn’t seem so wrong.

  He made it to Jes’s castle in record time. Quickly, he shifted, the transition from wolf to human form slightly less painful but enough to leave him sweaty and breathing hard. Running to where he’d left his things, he pulled on some clothes, then went looking for Jes.

  He called out for her, but heard no answer.

  He raced around Jes’s home, searching, growing tense with the sight of each empty room. She wasn’t in the living area, library or the surgery space. Maybe she was in one of the recovery rooms with a patient? Maybe even with the shape-shifter?

  What if the shape-shifter had been shot because one of his brethren had found him trying to raise a dark spirit? Or trying to create a bridge for one? What if he was doing it again? Here? Now?

  Dex’s heart almost stopped. “Jes! Where are you?”

  “Why are you yelling?”

  Dex whirled around.

  It was the female who’d been assisting Jes the day Dex had arrived. He strode up to the werewolf, stopping right in front of her.

  She sniffed, then stepped back. “You shifted,” she accused.

  He frowned. She could smell that on him? “Where’s Jes?’

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Damn it, just tell me where she is.”

  “She’s in the nursery.”

  “Where is that?”

  “On the third floor, but—wait!”

  He headed for the stairs, but she grabbed his arm, clinging to him despite his efforts to shake her off.

  “You can’t go in there. She’s delivering a baby.”

  “Let go, damn it. I need to talk to her. To make sure she’s okay.”

  “I just saw her. She’s fine. You’ll have to wait.”

  For some reason he needed to confirm she was okay himself. “No.”

  “Yes,” a male voice suddenly boomed out. “Dex, calm down. It’s all right.”

  Dex turned to see Cy standing with the mage. Fuck, had he been arguing with the werewolf long enough for Cy and the mage to walk back from the village?

  As if Cy had read Dex’s mind, the dragon-shifter shook his head. “You’re not the only creature that can shift for speed. And I’ve got wings.”

  “She says Jes is in the nursery,” Dex said.

  “Then she’s fine. You can’t go in there now, Dex. She’ll be busy.”

  What the hell was wrong with them? “I’ve seen babies being born before,” he pointed out. “It’s not like the sight of blood will make me faint.”

  “You haven’t seen anything like this before.” Cy turned to the werewolf, who nodded her head. Cy turned back to Dex, a pained expression on his face. “It’s a Draci birth.”

  “And?” Dex asked impatiently.

  “It’s just different. Let’s get the mage started on the protective spell. By then, Jes
will probably be done.”

  Damn it. He didn’t want to do that, but he’d also come to trust Cy to a degree. Cy knew Jes and her way of life in a way that Dex couldn’t. As much as that bothered him, he had to accept Cy’s place in Jes’s world.

  “What’s your name?” he asked the werewolf.

  She practically sneered at him and there was something familiar about her expression, something that made Dex frown. He shook off the feeling, trying to stay focused on Jes. He stared at the werewolf until she answered.

  “Amanda.”

  “You were operating on a shape-shifter when I first arrived, Amanda. Is he still here?”

  Amanda hesitated, then said, “He left against our advice. Seemed in a big hurry, too.”

  Although her news seemed to confirm his fears, Dex hoped the shape-shifter had gone for good and wouldn’t return. But he’d still have to warn Jes. “Go in and check on her,” he ordered Amanda. “Then come out and report to me or I’m going in there myself.”

  Amanda glared at him.

  But she did as he said.

  ***

  In minutes, the mage had gathered all her supplies—crystals, a feather, and some lit incense. She strolled through the castle, quietly chanting. Dex and Cy followed a short distance behind her.

  “Tell me about Draci births,” Dex ordered Cy. “What’s so different that I couldn’t be there to talk to Jes?”

  “A Draci birth is a somber occasion. Jes would never have let you stay as it would have been the height of disrespect for the delivering mother.”

  “Why isn’t it a happy occasion?”

  “It’s both happy and sad,” Cy conceded.

  “The duality thing again?”

  Cy nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Tell me what you mean.”

  “Right now, Jes probably isn’t just dealing with birth, but with death, too. Welcoming the new arrival but also preparing to bury the mother.”

  “Wait, you know her? Is the mother particularly ill or is this pregnancy just risky?”

  “Any Draci pregnancy is risky. Fatal, even. Draci are very similar to vampires in that giving life weakens them. For vampires, miscarriages are frequent. For Draci, maternal deaths during childbirth are most often the result. It keeps my race’s numbers down.”

  Shit. “And Jes doesn’t mind having to be there?”

  “It’s part of us, just as she is. Jes was there for my birth and my mother’s death. I imagine she’ll be there for my death, too.”

  So Cy had lost his mother. And unlike Dex, he hadn’t even had those first few years of life with her to remember her by. “Thirty years. You said that was a Draci’s average life span.”

  “Barring the unexpected illness. Or for females, the mixed blessing of giving birth.”

  “So Jes is doctor, midwife, and mortician?” Did the suffering never stop for her? Just how strong was she expected to be for the sake of others?

  “Jes is everything to the Draci. We rely on her as a stabilizing force in our community. We probably rely on her too much, I know. But she encourages it, too.”

  “And what of her own race? Does she ever see them?”

  “Jes has never associated with other vampires. She lost her parents early on and my people adopted her. She’s pledged her allegiance to us. She treats Otherborn who show up here, but the rest of her time she spends trying to help her own.”

  “Her own, meaning the Draci?”

  “Yes. You might say that being a doctor in the Draci community is a twenty-four/seven job.”

  “And what about what you told me when we first met? How am I Jes’s life and death?”

  Cy’s expression became mulish. “That’s something you’re going to have to figure out on your own.”

  “And that’s a bullshit answer. Am I just supposed to accept that? Hope neither of us ends up dying just like Jes is hoping the female giving birth doesn’t die?”

  Cy shrugged. This time, the gesture of acceptance seemed infinitely sad.

  “Just so I’m clear on this…bearing children is a virtual death sentence for your females? How does your race manage to reproduce at all?”

  “Draci females enter a lottery. The loser—or the winner, depending on who you’re talking to—is chosen to produce. That female is revered in our community in the same way saints are in the human world.”

  “That’s barbaric,” Dex breathed out.

  “It’s a necessity if we want our race to survive. We’re on the endangered species list as it is.”

  “Maybe that’s where you belong. Maybe that’s what nature intended.”

  “I’ve told Jes the same thing.”

  “And I’ve told you,” Jes’s voice suddenly reached them. “I don’t believe that. And I won’t stop trying to find a way to undo it.”

  Dex turned, ready to question what she meant by “undo it,” but he was distracted by the sight of the infant she cradled in her arms.

  “The mother?” Cy asked.

  Jes shook her head. Cy bent his head and looked at the floor.

  Dex couldn’t manage the gesture of respect. The baby’s smell was sweet and milky, and its eyes had opened and attached to him like a heat-seeking missile. It looked robust and healthy. Jes, however, did not. She looked pale. Tired. No wonder. She’d been up all last night and this morning.

  She swayed slightly and he cursed. Grabbing her arm, he nonetheless hesitated to take the baby from her. Good thing she seemed to have a good grip on it. “Damn it. You’re weak. Because you’re tired or because I was gone? You didn’t call.”

  “I’m a little weaker, but the baby’s fine. Both of them are. I’m feeling better already.” She pulled away and forced a smile. “Remember. I can’t lie.”

  He reluctantly released her. “We’ve brought someone back with us. A mage who will put a protection spell on the castle. Cy knows her.”

  “If Cy trusts her, then so do I.”

  The statement didn’t bother him as it once might have. If she drew any comfort from her relationship with Cy, Dex was glad. It told him just how much he was starting to care for Jes.

  She caught him looking at the infant. “Do you want to hold her?”

  He stared at the little girl in Jes’s arms. He was tempted to say yes. But then he remembered the other babies he’d held. Young ones at the were orphanage. Babies who’d been hurt and abused. Babies that Dex hadn’t been able to help.

  Automatically, he took a step back. “Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

  Jes’s smile dimmed and she nodded. She took several steps back. “Just let me get the baby settled and I’ll meet you and the mage in the library.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Before meeting Jes in the library, Dex did a sweep of the castle just to make sure the shape-shifter wasn’t lurking around. Cy agreed to check the main living quarters while Dex checked the lower area where the recovery rooms were located.

  Dex probably should have asked Jes for permission first, but he hadn’t wanted to put her in a position to say no. Or rather, he hadn’t wanted to put himself in a position to be told no. She’d feel obliged to consider her ethical duties as a doctor—not to mention her privacy—and what was in her patients’ best interests, but he had to consider the bigger picture—the safety of the castle’s inhabitants as well as any global threat from the diabols and the shape-shifters that were invoking them. In Dex’s mind, the wounded shape-shifter was a potential threat simply because of what he was.

  Dex winced.

  Whoa. Had he actually thought that?

  Talk about racial profiling, he chided himself. For a werebeast who’d suffered discrimination from the entire world, most of all from his full-blooded werewolf ancestors, he’d thought himself immune to racial bigotry. He didn’t like where his thoughts had taken him.

  Still, he didn’t backtrack. It wasn’t that he was prejudiced against shape-shifters in general, he assured himself. It was simply better to investigate now, and if he had
to, apologize to the shape-shifter or Jes—or both—later.

  Yet Dex didn’t kid himself. There was another reason he hadn’t asked Jes’s permission to search the grounds for the shape-shifter. He’d had to get the hell away from her as soon as he could. Not her, exactly, but the sight of her holding that tiny, newborn baby.

  The Draci baby was cute, sure, but it was the picture they’d made together that had knocked him for a loop. He’d taken one look at that baby and Jes, the vampire he was drawn to both because of her outward appearance and inner strength, and immediately imagined her cradling his child. Then he’d taken that image and run with it.

  Soon, it would be his child she held in her arms. His child nursing at her breast.

  His child being rocked to sleep while she sang to him.

  His child that went to sleep only after she kissed him goodnight.

  And with all those thoughts came another inescapable one—he was going to miss all of it. Going to miss seeing all the ways Jes and his baby bonded after he returned to the States. If he went through with his original plan, that is…

  If?

  If he went through with his original plan, meaning his plan to get revenge on his grandfather?

  Since when had there been any doubt that was what he would do?

  Since he’d met Jes, he realized. Even before he’d learned she was pregnant, he’d found himself doing things that did nothing to further his goal for revenge, and he hadn’t cared. He’d gone to her hotel room knowing they’d fuck, but also knowing it wasn’t just about fucking her. Afterward, instead of leaving, he’d stayed the night, holding her in his arms, enjoying it too much to pull himself away. And he’d even considered seeking her out in France. Couldn’t deny that part of him had jumped at Mahone’s request to question shape-shifters here simply because it would bring him closer to her…

  So what now?

  Could his original plan and his new desires be morphed into something new, a compromise that allowed him to have his revenge, work on the team, and also have a life with Jes and his child?