Chosen by Sin Page 20

  The logistics might prove difficult, especially given the fact they lived on different continents, but he wasn’t one to turn away from a challenge.

  He searched, finding no trace of the shape-shifter. Eventually, he came to the room where he’d recovered. Finding it empty, he checked the two rooms next to it and confirmed they, too, were still empty. He walked past the door that led outside to that patch of grass where Ella had been doing her cartwheels. There was one other door down the hall from it. He knocked then opened it. Empty.

  He quickened his steps. At the end of the hallway, he came to a T. The path to the left led to a large door marked “No Entry.” Sure enough, when he tried it, it was locked. He frowned and checked the hallway to the right. This time, he walked quite a bit before seeing another doorway. Next to it squatted a small figure, hands covering her face.

  It was Ella. She appeared to be shaking while she struggled to hold back tears.

  Shit. Not again.

  Maybe he could turn around before she saw him.

  Swiftly and soundlessly, he turned on his heel and walked a few steps. She didn’t call out to him, but she suddenly sobbed, the sound aching and lost. It froze him in his tracks.

  He swiped a hand over his face. Hell, he wasn’t going to be able to leave with the child crying like that. Something serious could be wrong with her.

  Backtracking until he towered over her, he crossed his arms over his chest. She seemed unaware of his presence. He sighed. “What’s wrong?”

  Ella’s head jerked up and she stared at him wide-eyed before glancing away, scrubbing furiously at her face. “Nothing.”

  He harrumphed and sank down until he was sitting on the floor next to her with his back braced against the wall.

  He didn’t push her. Didn’t say anything at all. He just stared at the wall across from them and twiddled his thumbs. He suddenly wished one of his Para-Ops team members was here—when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a kid, even Knox or Caleb would make more sense. Knox had kids and Caleb was a healer. Hell, the only team member who might not be a better choice than him was Wraith.

  Ella glanced at him several times before wrapping her arms around her knees. Her sweater sleeves, long enough to dangle past her wrists, brushed the floor.

  “I need to have tests done,” she finally said, “but they hurt. I know I shouldn’t be such a baby about it, but—”

  Dex spoke swiftly, though a lump had formed in his throat. Ella was sick? “Fearing pain doesn’t make you a baby.”

  “Really?”

  “Nope.” He paused, not sure he wanted to know, but feeling compelled to ask anyway. “These are medical tests?”

  She nodded.

  “And Jes says they’re necessary?”

  “She’s explained why it’s important to test my blood.”

  “Then you need to listen to her. She’s a doctor. She’s just trying to help.” In fact, Dex felt better already knowing that Ella was under Jes’s care. If there was anything to be done to help her, Jes wouldn’t give up until she’d explored all the options.

  “I know.” Ella blew out a long breath, her face scrunching up as if thinking things through. “And I want to help. I want to help everyone. But I wish I didn’t have to.” Her eyes welled with tears but she rapidly blinked them away, obviously not wanting to cry in front of him again. “It just—it hurts.”

  He looked away in order to give her the privacy she needed to compose herself. Or maybe he did it so she wouldn’t see his expression as memories assailed him.

  It hurts, Dex. It hurts.

  The voice from his past filtered through his mind and he clenched his teeth and fists in response.

  The little werebeast who’d often spoken those words to him had been named Elliott. He’d been chubby when he’d first came to the were orphanage, but his frame had soon grown thin and frail. Elliott would always go to sleep in his own bed the way he was supposed to, but sometimes he’d sneak into the older boys’ wing and try to crawl into bed with one of them. He’d gotten slapped down a time or two before he’d approached Dex. To this day, Dex still didn’t know why, but he’d let the kid crawl into bed with him. Eventually, the boy became comfortable enough that he’d talk rather than just sleep. He’d tell Dex the horrors he’d encountered that day and more times than not, before he fell asleep, he’d tell Dex how he hurt.

  Dex had never known what to say to the boy to comfort him. He’d wanted to be strong. To help. To kill the ones who hurt them. But he’d only been nine. And he’d been scared, barely managing to handle what was happening to him. So instead, he’d done nothing. Said nothing. Yet night after night, Elliott had climbed into bed with Dex and talked to him.

  Until the day came that Elliott couldn’t do anything anymore.

  “Here’s the thing,” Dex said, still averting his gaze. “Sometimes, when things you don’t like are happening to you, it helps to think of something else. Another place.”

  “You mean like pretending I’m at my favorite spot? Someplace nice?”

  “Sure.” Although in Dex’s case, he’d mostly imagined himself somewhere horrible, a place even worse than the orphanage. He’d told himself that what he was enduring was only preparation for the greater suffering that might await him. Basic training. And in a way, he’d been right. It was because of his childhood that he’d been tough enough to survive during the War. But none of that would be helpful to this young dragon-shifter right now. “What’s your favorite place?” he asked.

  “The river. I love the water. I feel so peaceful when I’m near it.”

  Involuntarily, Dex mentally shuddered. Weres generally hated water because it was the only thing that prevented them from shifting into their immortal wolf form. Still, he tried to sound encouraging. “Okay, then when you’re having your blood drawn, think of the river. That’s not being a coward, that’s taking control. You stay the same. You just change your circumstances.”

  “But the change isn’t real,” she argued.

  “It’s real in your mind. Why is that so different? What happens to you is just stuff. It’s not you and it doesn’t define you. You do the best you can, that’s all. You can’t let outside stuff affect the way you think about yourself.”

  She didn’t look like she believed him. He had to admit, he was having a hard time selling what he was saying. Almost everyone ended up hating themselves because of the crappy stuff life threw at them. Lucy hated herself because of her heat. Before recent events, Wraith had hated herself for being the undead, unable to be touched without feeling pain. And Dex?

  He resisted answering the question, but as he stared at Ella, he saw more than a scared young Draci—he saw Elliott. For him, for her, he forced himself to be honest.

  Dex hated himself for what had happened to him and the other boys at the orphanage. He hated the stuff he hadn’t been able to stop.

  But most of all, he hated the stuff he hadn’t even tried to stop.

  That’s why he’d craved revenge against his grandfather for so long, Dex realized. Dex had disposed of the actual perpetrators. He’d even killed Ramon, Rurik’s brother, after Dex learned about Ramon’s involvement with the orphanage. After that, he’d needed someone else to blame besides himself.

  But maybe he’d begun to forgive himself more than he’d ever realized. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation Jes represented.

  Because somewhere along the way, he’d lost the need to hide from his own shame, and at the same time, he’d lost his thirst for revenge.

  If all he’d really wanted was to kill his grandfather, Dex hadn’t needed to strike an immunity deal with Mahone. Hell, he knew he was capable of killing the werewolf leader and disappearing so the authorities never caught him. But by striking the deal with Mahone, he’d justified his place on the Para-Ops team. What he couldn’t have known was how much he’d like it. He’d experienced something he’d never felt, even when things had been good with the Ferals.

&n
bsp; For the first time in his life, he’d belonged.

  Just like he belonged with Jes. Just like he belonged right now, sitting with Ella in this hallway, helping her face something unpleasant because it was the right thing for her. Did he really want to lose his newfound place in the world for revenge?

  No, he didn’t.

  Love. He’d never thought it was something he could have.

  Did Jes love him—could she love him—or was that just wishful thinking? They hadn’t known each other long at all, yet when they were together, the world just felt right.

  She seemed to enjoy his company. Was certainly drawn to him physically. Whether she called it love or not, or whether he called it something else, it didn’t matter. She was his. The child in her belly was his. And if accepting that meant he had to live in this castle and give up his plans for revenge against his grandfather, so be it.

  Abruptly, he became aware that someone was tugging on his sleeve. He looked down, surprised to see Ella. For a second, he’d forgotten she was there.

  “I asked if it works for you. Imagining you’re someplace else,” she clarified.

  “It works,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. How could he have known that meeting this girl was what he needed to see himself and the world so clearly?

  She sniffed and nodded. She raised her chin and pushed her sleeves up as if readying for battle. “Okay, I’ll be brave.”

  She pulled herself to her feet and walked toward the nearby door. As she did, Dex caught sight of the skin on her arms. Inch-wide splotches of pink and angry red dotted the otherwise smooth surface.

  The splotches resembled burns. Or the scars that covered Jes’s arm. He looked harder. They looked more like strips of healing skin, as if the top layer had been ripped away in several places. Deliberately and methodically.

  She’d said Jes tested her blood, but the wounds on her arms didn’t look like something a disease would leave behind. They looked man-made.

  “Ella, what illness do you have? Why does Jes need to take samples of your blood?”

  Ella turned her head toward him just as she reached for the door handle. “Oh I’m not sick.”

  “What do you mean you’re not sick?” He surged to his feet and held out his hand, indicating he wanted to look at her arms. “What are those marks I see?”

  She frowned, glanced down, then gasped as if just realizing she’d shown him something she wasn’t supposed to. She quickly pulled her sleeves in place.

  “Answer me. What are those marks on your arms?”

  “Nothing!” She paled to a sickly white. “I just fell down and hurt myself. When I was doing the cartwheels.”

  A bad feeling formed in the pit of his chest. It wasn’t like that intense pain he’d felt when a diabol might have possessed him. This monster was different.

  It hurts, Dex. It hurts.

  “It’s okay, Dex. It doesn’t hurt, honest.”

  “Let me see your arms, Ella.” His tone brooked no disobedience. Although Ella initially hesitated, she finally stepped closer and held out her arms. Dex tugged up her sleeves and examined the marks. The patches ran from her wrists to her elbows, the wounds shiny and still healing.

  “These are skin graphs. Why? If you’re not sick, why would—”

  “Please don’t tell Jes,” Ella pleaded, on the verge of crying again. “Don’t tell her you saw. She’s just trying to help us.”

  He struggled to get past his confusion. “Us?”

  “The Draci. She wants to help us live longer and I want that, too. I don’t care how much it hurts. I’ll do what you say and Jes will keep doing her experiments and she’ll find a way to make us live longer. That’s all that matters.”

  “She’s experimenting on you?” Dex breathed out, his head starting to pound.

  Dex, it hurts so much.

  Denial pushed into his brain and outward. He grabbed his head and groaned. No, no. Not Jes. She made him feel good. She helped others.

  Didn’t she?

  He swept Ella up in his arms and ran.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  FBI HEADQUARTERS

  Lucy burst into Mahone’s office with his secretary close on her heels.

  “Ms. Talbot, you can’t—”

  “You bastard,” she gritted out, barely restraining herself from shouting at him. “You—you stinking piece of shit!”

  “I’m so sorry, sir. I tried to stop her but she—”

  “It’s all right, Kara,” Mahone said. He didn’t even bother rising from behind his desk. Instead, he leaned back and pressed his fingertips like a steeple against his chest. “Please close the door behind you.”

  He simply stared at her, without remorse, without guilt, as Kara shut the door.

  “So what can I do for you, Lucy?”

  His calm demeanor catapulted her into the stratosphere.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she used her power of telekinesis to lift Mahone out of his chair and slam him hard against the window behind him. A spiderweb of fractures appeared in the glass. Mahone’s eyes were so round with shock she almost laughed, but her disappointment and anger wouldn’t allow it.

  “You obviously don’t know me very well, Mahone. By nature, I’m a pacifist, but if you needed someone willing to overlook your machinations against the Para-Ops team members, you should never have recruited me. Because if there’s one thing I am, it’s loyal. Let me get close to someone and I will protect him with my life. Even if I have to protect him from you.”

  “Does that go double for a male you’re fucking?” Mahone said softly.

  Lucy sucked in a breath. She didn’t move. She didn’t need to. The power of her thoughts sent Mahone hurtling into the right wall of his office. He grunted as picture frames broke and crashed to the floor.

  “Mahone!”

  Someone, presumably Kara, started to open the office door, but Lucy divided her powers in order to keep it shut. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt with Caleb. You didn’t know any of us in the beginning, not really, so getting him to test Wraith was halfway understandable. But you went too far this time. Dex and I are the only active members on the team and he flew to France despite knowing the poor reception he’d receive as a were. But he didn’t know the half of it, did he, Mahone?”

  “The were knows better than to let down his guard completely, Lucy. Especially when it comes to me. And if he forgot that, he needed a reminder.”

  As shouts and thuds continued to be heard from outside, Lucy propelled Mahone across the office into the left wall. This time, when he hit, he yelled, “Damn it, Lucy. Let me the fuck down now! That’s an order!”

  “An order? You think I’m going to take orders from you? You led Dex in front of a firing squad while he was completely blind. I can’t help wondering how long it would have been until you’d have done the same to me.”

  “I had no choice, damn it. If you let me down, I can explain.”

  Lucy let him hang there. She couldn’t imagine how he would explain his actions, but what she’d said was true. She was loyal. And a part of her, despite what she’d recently learned, still hoped her loyalty toward Mahone hadn’t been misplaced.

  Still, she didn’t bother easing him down gently. She abruptly withdrew her power so Mahone fell heavily to the ground. He grunted but immediately sprang to his feet to glare at her, breathing hard.

  “Tell them to go away,” she ordered.

  Mahone clenched his jaw, then called, “Kara. I’m okay. Call off security and back off. Now.”

  “Are you sure, Mahone? How do I know—”

  “Now, Kara. Please.”

  Maybe it was the fact he said please, but something convinced Kara to call off Mahone’s guards and leave them alone. Soon, the sounds of multiple footsteps faded and Mahone’s office grew quiet. He straightened his tie and jacket, then once again took his seat behind his desk. He waved for her sit down.

  Narrowing her eyes, she stepped c
loser but remained standing.

  She caught sight of several photographs and papers on Mahone’s desk before he shoved them back in their file folders. She swore she’d seen a picture of a dragon—

  “What do you know? And how do you know?” Mahone gritted out.

  “I’ve been doing what you asked of me, looking into shape-shifters murdering shape-shifters in the United States while Dex did the same in France. After Dex called, after you filled me in on the possible connection with dark magic, I went looking for the one shape-shifter I knew had a fondness for felines. So much so that he was willing to perform involuntary sterilizations on them in order to ‘help’ them.”

  “The shape-shifter the others caught trying to take you from that L.A. club,” he guessed.

  “Right. And apparently the same shape-shifter you paid a visit to before Dex left for France. The same one you had transferred to a low-security facility and hooked up with high-powered counsel. The same one who happened to witness your accidentally-on-purpose verbal slip about Dex being some kind of carrier for immortality, with the power to transfer it to others.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t know anything about that?”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course I didn’t. And I’m betting Dex didn’t know it, either. Is it true?”

  Mahone shrugged. “I don’t know. My source seems to believe it is. But whether it’s true or not didn’t really matter, did it?”

  She laughed bitterly. “No. What mattered was setting Dex up as bait so that shape-shifters wanting to help dark spirits take over the world would have something special to offer them. What better way than offering them a host that can turn a whole bunch of other hosts into immortals?”

  “And you think what, Lucy?” Mahone asked as he suddenly shot to his feet. He rounded the desk, stopping several feet from her. “That I set Dex up as bait because I hate him? Because I want him dead?”

  Lucy remained stubbornly quiet. She knew that hadn’t been Mahone’s intentions, but she couldn’t condone what he’d done.

  “Of course I didn’t,” he said. “It was my safety plan in case Dex couldn’t get any of the shape-shifters to talk to him. And that’s exactly what happened. Properly motivated, the shape-shifters will go to Dex. I have enough faith in Dex’s ability to take care of himself and fend off any attacks.”