Twelve
“Luz, where are you? Rosie said you left without any explanation. Are you all right?” Jude’s deep voice was extremely worried and I felt a warm rush of love for him all over again. He cares. He loves me. But I had to push the warm fuzzies aside and get to the bottom of this mess before I let myself get too carried away. So I took a deep breath and got right to it.
“Jude, are you an incubus?”
I was hoping for an incredulous laugh or an instant denial. What I got instead was a long, long silence. Then he said, “I’d better come talk to you. Are you at your apartment?”
“Yes, but I really don’t think—” But I was talking to a dead phone. He’d already hung up.
“Well?” Diego, who had refused to leave me alone, glared at me from his spot on my couch.
I shrugged. “He’s coming over. He wants to talk in person, I guess.”
“So he can control you better.”
“Diego, for the last time, he’s not controlling me.”
“Yeah, whatever you say. But I’m staying right here just in case.” He crossed his tattooed arms over his chest and lounged back on the couch.
“Fine, do what you want.” I was irritated at my little brother’s overprotective alpha instincts but there was obviously no budging him. Plus, I was secretly a little relieved he was staying. What if there was some truth to the rumors he’d heard? Why hadn’t Jude just denied them right away and put my mind at ease? Please don’t let it be true, I thought, staring at my apartment door and remembering the way Jude had pushed me up against the wall beside it and pleasured me until I couldn’t think straight. Please.
In a surprisingly short amount of time there was a quick double knock at the front door. I started to go get it but Diego beat me to it. He opened the door and there was Jude, with a very unhappy expression on his face. He towered over Diego but my brother was used to being the shorter man in almost any given situation so he didn’t back down a bit.
“It’s okay, Diego—let him in,” I said when it was clear the alpha-male staring contest was going to go on all night if I didn’t break it up.
Growling low in his throat, my little brother stepped aside and Jude walked in and went straight to me.
“Luz,” he said, “Please believe me when I say I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
I felt suddenly numb. “Then it’s true? You actually are an incubus? But…but I thought they were just fairy tales.”
“All fairy tales have their basis in reality, I am afraid. With my people it happens to only the oldest and purest bloodlines—sometimes one is born with…extra abilities.”
“Like the ability to suck down pain and fear the same way you suck down blood?” Diego demanded, coming over to us.
“We do feed on emotions as well as blood—that is true enough,” Jude admitted. “But—”
“But nothing, you hijo de puta,” Diego growled.
Jude turned to him, his eyes beginning to glow red. “You should be aware that I am fluent in sixteen different languages and one of them is Spanish. You should further be aware that I do not appreciate being insulted.”
“Oh, I’ll do more than insult you.” Diego’s eyes began to turn wolf gold. “You’ve been messing with my sister—I’m gonna fuck you up good, cabrón.”
“Stop!” I stood up and got between them, putting a hand on both of their chests. “Stop it right now, both of you. Diego,” I said, turning to my brother. “Let me talk to Jude.”
“For a minute.” He stepped back, still growling. If he had been in wolf form his hackles would have been raised and his ears would have been flat against his skull.
“Jude,” I said, turning to my lover. “I just…I don’t know what to think.”
“Think that you love me as I love you.” He took my hands in his. “Why does this have to change anything?”
“Because you lied to me.” I pulled my hands out of his and took a step back. “I’m sorry but I have to know the truth. Can you read my mind? I mean, really read it and not just pick a few random thoughts off the top of my head when you’re touching me the way you told me?”
Jude looked very unhappy. “I do have to be touching you to get anything but yes, I may have downplayed my abilities somewhat. My telepathy is something I’ve grown used to concealing. It…makes people uncomfortable if they know I can tell what they’re thinking.”
“No shit—wonder why that is?” Diego muttered sarcastically.
“Shut up, Diego,” I said, but my heart was sinking. I turned back to Jude. “Is it true that after we exchanged blood a third time we would be bound together forever? Uh—bonded, is that the word?”
He nodded unhappily. “It is. But I swear I was going to tell you before we bit each other tonight.”
Diego made a face. “So he had you biting him too? Fucking kinky vampire assholes.”
Jude eyed the fang marks on his neck. “It appears that you have recently let one of us ‘vampire assholes’ bite you as well, friend. Hypocrisy is scarcely an admirable trait, despite your fear for your sister.”
By now Diego’s face was as red as Jude’s eyes. “I’m not your fucking friend. And I let him bite me to find out what you are.”
“You wouldn’t want to give me the name of your little fanged informant, now would you?” Jude took a step toward him, his eyes coal red and his fangs extended. “I do not appreciate those who spread untrue rumors about me to others.”
“But that’s the thing, friend,” Diego spat. “What part of all this is untrue? You just fucking admitted to every damn thing he told me. You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
I opened my mouth to defend my lover…and shut it again. Diego was right. Everything he’d told me about Jude was true. The boogieman was real and I was dating him. Hell, considering he’d apparently been about to tie me to him for eternity—or however long it was that vamps lived—I was practically engaged to him. But while I stood there, mute with misery, things were escalating at an alarming pace.
Jude took a step forward and reached for Diego. Diego threw a punch but Jude caught his fist and held it immobile in midair, a look of concentration on his face.
“Gavin,” he said, looking into my brother’s eyes. “Your lover who told you lies about me is called Gavin and he is of the Clan of the Bat.”
“He’s not my lover.” Diego struggled to free his fist but he might as well have been trying to pull his hand out of solid concrete.
Jude raised an eyebrow. “Oh no? Then why did you allow him to pleasure you with his mouth before he bit you? I believe you thought it was the best blowjob you’d ever had. Or am I wrong?”
“Of course you’re fucking wrong! I’m not fucking gay!” Diego swung with the other fist too but Jude just caught it in his other hand. His eyes gleamed with rage but his voice was light and sarcastic.
“Is that right? Because I believe allowing another male to service you sexually is the very definition of homosexuality.”
“Stop!” I couldn’t bear this anymore. Couldn’t bear to see Jude stand there and expose my brother’s darkest secrets the same way he’d exposed mine.
It suddenly occurred to me that he’d know all along—all the ugly, awful details of that night fourteen years ago with Engle. He must have seen them in my head when he touched me. But he’d made me slit myself open and spill my guts for him anyway, made me relieve that old, awful horror and despair. And all because he liked my taste—not the taste of my blood or the taste of my sex—the taste of my pain.
Pain. That was what Jude had been feeding on the whole time we’d been together. With my fucked-up past I must have been like an all-night Vegas buffet for him. No wonder he wanted me with him forever—I would never completely get over the things that had been done to me so Jude would never run out of nourishment. And any time he wanted a little more he could just go digging around in my head for it and urge me to “talk about it” until he got what he wanted.
“You sick bastard,” I said, my voice trembling.
Jude looked at me, obviously surprised. “Luz—”
“No. Shut up and let my brother go. Now.”
He did what I said, letting go of Diego’s fists and sidestepping when my brother charged him. “Please listen to me. All is not the way it seems—just let me explain.”
“You used me and lied to me. I’m not interested in any more of your fucking explanations. Get out.” I pointed at the door.
Diego was suddenly right beside me. “Rescind his invitation.”
“What?” I looked at him.
My brother gestured in frustration. “You had to invite him to come in the apartment in the first place. Just take back your invitation and he’ll have to leave.”
“Luz, no.” Jude shook his head but I was already speaking.
“Jude Jacobson, I rescind your invitation to my apartment.”
Jude walked rapidly toward the door although it was apparent he didn’t want to. He opened it, took a step outside and turned around to face me again. “Please, hear me out,” he begged, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hear anything else you’ve got to say.” I could feel tears building in my throat and stinging my eyes. I was about to bawl and I didn’t want him to see me do it.
“Please.” Jude dropped to his knees in the doorway and leaned forward as far as he could, his hands held out in a beseeching manner. It looked almost as though he was pressing against an invisible barrier. “Please, beloved,” he whispered. “Don’t turn me away—we are pledged to each other. I love you.”
I started to cry then, I couldn’t help it. “Just go,” I somehow managed to say between sobs. “Please, Jude, there’s nothing left to say. Just go away and leave me alone.”
“Very well,” he whispered and I thought he might be crying too. But before I could be sure, he was gone.
“Hey, sweetheart. Your brother tells us you’re not feeling too good lately.” My mother’s voice on the phone sounded sweetly concerned. I wondered, as I always did, if she was just pretending or if she really cared about her black-sheep daughter.
“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’ve been a little, uh, under the weather,” I said cautiously.
I wasn’t sure how much Diego had told her—the less the better as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t ask him because he wasn’t taking my calls at the moment—probably because he was chronically embarrassed at the way Jude had outed him the last time we’d seen each other. I wished he would pick up the phone even once and hear what I had to say. I wanted him to know that I still loved and accepted him—the way he had loved and accepted me for years when I was a non-shifter. But it had been a week since I’d talked to him—a week since that awful last visit from Jude—and by now I figured Diego would call me when he was good and ready and not before.
Meanwhile, though I was monitoring my own incoming calls pretty closely, Jude had only called me once. I had let the call go straight to voicemail and sure enough, he’d left me a message. “Luz,” he said, his voice filled with pain. “I will never stop loving you.” And then he’d hung up.
I had played the message multiple times and cried every time. It had been a wretched week—the week from hell. And talking to my mom wasn’t exactly making things any better.
“I was hoping you’d like to come by this Thursday for dinner,” she said, breaking my train of thought. “We never did get to celebrate your first shift and that would be the perfect time.”
“Geez, Mom, I don’t know,” I hedged.
“Everyone will be there. And I’m going to bake a cake.”
“A cake? What kind of cake?” I couldn’t help asking. Mom’s cakes were legendary. Rich and dense and topped with homemade buttercream frosting, they melted in your mouth and made your taste buds do the happy dance.
“Your favorite—black forest triple fudge volcano cake,” she said promptly. And though the thought of getting together with my dysfunctional family to celebrate an event that had brought me nothing but pain was off-putting, the cake tipped me over the edge as she’d no doubt known it would.
“Well…” I hesitated.
“What time should we expect you, dear? Would seven be too early?”
“No, I guess not,” I said, resigned to going. Then I had another thought—more about me had changed recently than my status as a non-shifter. “Uh, Mom, you ought to be aware that things are different with me now,” I said, trying to think how I could tell her I was no longer a virgin without actually coming out and saying it.
“Of course they are, dear. You’re a full-fledged were now and Daddy and I couldn’t be prouder.”
“No, Mom, that isn’t what I meant.” I sighed. “You know I’m still single and I’m not, uh, currently seeing anyone. But I was seeing someone a while back and I’m not actually…we didn’t always sleep in different rooms. Do you know what I mean?”
“Oh dear…” For a minute Mom sounded genuinely distressed. Aside from the fateful night of Engle’s ascension to pack master when she’d basically told me to suck it up and take one for the team, she’d always been extremely prudish about sex.
“Come on, Mom,” I said, trying to sound reasonable. “I’m twenty-seven. It had to happen eventually.”
“Well…I suppose so. Although your father might be upset.”
“Hey, I don’t have to come if it’s going to be a problem,” I said, sensing a possible escape route. The more I thought about it, the less appealing sitting down to dinner with my entire family, all of whom knew I was no longer a virgin, seemed. But Mom was quick to squash my attempted escape.
“No, no—you’re still our daughter no matter what you’ve done,” she said, sounding even more prim and proper.
So I’m a bad daughter because I waited until my own good time and found a man I cared about instead of giving it up when I was still practically a child to the man you and Daddy picked to rape me? Is that it? It was on the tip of my tongue to say that or something like it but, as always, I kept my accusations and bitterness to myself. My anger was buried under so many layers of the past, so many years gone by, that it seemed impossible to bring it up now.
I’m sure any therapist worth his or her salt would have said that I was massively repressed but the fact was, pretending that horrible night had never happened was the only way I knew how to deal with my mom and dad. Because if I did bring it out in the open it was the same as saying they didn’t love me. And though I had suspected that was true for years, hearing my parents say it out loud was more than I could bear. So I went on pretending and pretending and my mom and dad and the rest of the family all pretended right along with me.
The only question was, now that I had told someone about my pain and faced it head-on, would I still be able to pretend? I had a feeling I was going to find out because my mom was reminding me one more time when I should be there for dinner and obviously winding up the conversation.
“Goodbye, sweetheart. We’ll see you Thursday,” she said. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom,” I said dutifully. “See you then.”
And that was how I found myself back in the house I’d grown up in for the first time in over a year on Thursday night. My big sister Essie greeted me at the door, her nose wrinkling as I stepped in past her.
“A vampire? Really, Luz, couldn’t you do better than that?”
Before I could formulate a suitably scathing reply, my mom came bustling up and took me by the arm. “Now girls, come help set the table. Daddy is outside with Frank having a cigar before dinner so we need to get everything ready before they finish.”
My mom was about as old school as they come where serving her man was concerned so I sighed and followed her into the kitchen. But not before I’d given Essie a dirty look for being a bitch.
Besides the fact that she had somehow gotten all of the tall genes in the family and had a perfect figure, Essie was also the favorite daughter. Worse, she knew it and wasn’t opposed to rubbing it in. I’d hated her when we were kids and somehow, despite being the only two girls, we never did bond even as we got older. Essie was deep into pack politics and seeing her man get ahead, just as my mom had always been. And I, of course, was too busy trying to make it in the human world since the were world didn’t want me. Why should I worry about which alpha had the most status and who gained or lost face during the monthly hunt when I wasn’t even a functioning member of the pack?
The kitchen was decorated the same way it had been since I was a child—in pale sunny yellow with blond wood cabinets and cream-colored appliances. Sitting on the countertop nearest the dining room was the hugest, gooiest black forest triple fudge volcano cake I had ever seen. It really was shaped like a volcano with fudge-like molten lava running down its sides. I knew when it was cut, a cascade of dark cherries in chocolate sauce would come tumbling out of its moist crust, making even the most determined dieter beg for seconds.
“Wow, Mom, you’ve outdone yourself.” I stopped in front of the cake, itching to sneak a fingerful of icing and knowing I wouldn’t be able to get away with it as long as Essie was in the room.
“Well, I thought it was important to celebrate your accomplishment.” Mom smiled and turned to the stove.
“Huh.” Essie sniffed. “Like celebrating her first steps years after she should have been walking.”
“Now, now. It takes some of us longer than others, that’s all.” Mom nodded at the dish cabinet. “Go ahead and set the table while I get this roast on a plate, will you, girls?”
Essie took the plates and silverware and I took the cups and napkins and for a minute I felt like I was ten again, back when everything was perfect and I had no reason to suspect my parents cared more about their standing in the pack than they did about my emotional well-being. Then Essie wrinkled her nose when I got too close to her and I was back in the here and now, setting the table for a dinner I really didn’t want to be at.
“So seriously, Luz—a vampire? I know none of the pack was probably interested but couldn’t you at least find a human who was willing?”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I said pleasantly. “So how are Frank and the rugrats? Did he tell you he saw me the other night?” I was curious to know how much my alpha brother-in-law had revealed about my encounter with the pack master.
Essie’s eyes flashed. “As a matter of fact he did. And he said you were being selfish as usual.”
“Oh? And how was I being selfish?” I asked through gritted teeth.
Essie stood back from the last place setting and put her hands on her hips. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, Luz. Pack Master Engle just wanted what was his by right.”
“My God.” I threw up my hands. “So you’re saying I should have lain down in the dirt and let him have me right then and there?”
“No, I’m saying you should have let him have you back when he first ascended as pack master. Do you know how much better off the family would be if you’d just—”
“Girls, girls, what’s all this bickering?” My father walked in through the sliding glass doors, followed closely by my brother-in-law Frank. Both men smelled like they’d just been burning dirty gym socks—which is to say, you could tell they’d been smoking those stinky hand-rolled cigars Tampa is so famous for.
“Hello, pumpkin.” Dad stooped to give Essie a fond kiss on the cheek. Then, clearly thinking that he had to treat me the same, he kissed me too—without the sweet nickname, however.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, waiting to see if he’d blow up once he smelled my new, vampire-altered scent—if he could smell it over his own secondhand smoke, that was. But his nose barely even twitched. Maybe that was the reason for the cigars in the first place.
“It’s good to have you here, Luz,” he said stiffly. “Your mother and I are very proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I said miserably. In a way this was worse than Essie’s open jibes. Sometimes there was so much unspoken angst in the air between me and my parents I felt as if I would suffocate or maybe just start screaming and never stop. I cursed myself for a fool for coming in the first place—no cake, no matter how delicious, was worth this tension. But I was stuck here now so I went back into the kitchen and helped my mom bring out the pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans. I wished with all my heart that Diego was here to demand some ropa vieja or picadillo. My mom actually could make the traditional Spanish recipes—she just preferred not to.
We sat down to the decidedly non-ethnic dinner, which was, nevertheless, delicious, but I found I could barely pick at my plate. Essie and Frank were glaring daggers at me across the table and whispering to each other and my parents, who were sitting at the head and foot of the table respectively, were smiling and acting like nothing had ever happened—just as they always did.
At last the meal was over and it was time for dessert. As my mom got up to go carve the cake, I excused myself because I was sure if I didn’t get away from the table, at least for a minute, I was going to scream.
The downstairs bathroom was still decorated in pale pink tile with gold and white accents and there were still little hand towels and tiny pink soaps in the dish by the sink that no one was allowed to touch. When we were kids Diego and I had called them “company soaps” because company were the only ones allowed to use them. Once, on a dare from one of our older brothers, he had put one of the soaps in his mouth and when my mom had found out, she’d made him chew it up and swallow it. It was a tiny soap but Diego had been sick all night—I remembered because I was the one who’d sat up with him.
God, I wished he was here now! I felt as if I were stuck behind enemy lines with no reinforcements and I knew if I had to choke down one more mouthful of food, even Mom’s wonderful cake, I was going to hurl.
As if my wish for him had called him, my cell gave a muted buzzing and when I looked at it, my little brother’s number flashed in the box. Feeling relieved, I hit the talk button and put the phone to my ear, but not before making sure the bathroom door was securely locked.
“Boy, am I glad to hear from you,” I said. “Why haven’t you been returning my calls?”
“I’ve been busy.” His voice sounded gruff and then he sighed. “Gavin and I have been working some things out. All right?”
“Hey, that’s fine with me. You know I’m not judging you, right?”
“Yeah. You’re the only one in the family who wouldn’t.” He sounded morose.
“Tell me about it. I’m feeling pretty judged myself right now. Mom got me to come over for dinner by dangling a volcano cake in front of me and I was stupid enough to bite.”
“Oh no.” Diego’s voice was suddenly panicky. “Luz, tell me you’re kidding me—tell me you’re not really there at Mom and Dad’s house.”
“Why shouldn’t I be here?”
He made a frustrated sound. “Mierta, Luz, I left you a message. Don’t you ever check your voicemail?”
“Of course I do,” I said indignantly. “Your message must have gotten erased before I could hear it.” Probably during one of the three million times I’d gone back to listen to Jude’s voice saying he would always love me again.
“Well, whatever—just get out of there. Now.”
“Why? What do you know?” I kept my voice low, hoping no one was snooping outside the bathroom door.
“Only that Essie was bragging that Frank was going to ascend to pack master soon because she and Mom and Dad were going to get Engle what he wanted so he would step down.”
“But I’m not a virgin anymore,” I protested in a low voice. “What he wanted is gone.”
“No, what he wanted was you. He’s plenty pissed you went off and, uh, lost it to somebody else but he still wants to have you. And he’s pretty much refusing to step down until he does.”
“That son of a bitch!” I swore. “I can’t believe this—how could they do this to me?”
“I don’t know, Luz.” Diego’s voice was sober and sad. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I didn’t want to see it before—didn’t want to admit to myself what they did to you back then. But there’s no way around it now. They’re all in on it so you have to go.”
“But why would Essie tell you any of this in the first place? Frank was right there the other night—he knew you’d warn me if she talked.”
“She didn’t tell me—she’s a bitch but she’s not stupid. She told one of her best girlfriends who happens to be dating one of my pack brothers. Guess she couldn’t resist bragging about her new status.”
“Guess not,” I said grimly. It was in keeping with my older sister’s character. She loved feeling like the queen bee and letting other people know it.
“Well, never mind the details, just leave,” Diego said. “Pretend you left something in your car and get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Yeah, I will. Thanks for warning me, little brother. Sorry I didn’t get your message earlier.”
“Me too,” he said. “Call me when you’re safe. I need to know you’re okay.”
“Will do.” I clicked off the phone and stepped quietly to the bathroom door. Slowly, stealthily, I released the lock and turned the knob. Then, making sure it didn’t creak, I eased the door open with agonizing slowness.
“Hello, Luz,” said Frank, who was standing just outside the bathroom. “Going somewhere?”
“Just back to the table to get some cake. You didn’t eat it all, did you?” I gave him a big, fake grin and stepped around him, heading toward the dining room. I had no idea how much he’d heard but if he’d been outside the door it might have been quite a lot. Were hearing is very acute and the senses of an alpha—even a shithead like Frank—are razor sharp.
“I hope you saved some room,” Mom said, as I stepped into the dining room with Frank right on my heels. He was a big guy with dark hair and a five o’clock shadow that never really went away no matter how much he shaved. I tried not to let his physical presence intimidate me, despite the panicky feeling that was rising in my throat.
“I can’t wait. I’ve been looking forward to this cake all week,” I said, turning my big, fake grin on her. I sat in my place and waited until Frank sat down too. Then, just when everyone started digging into the gooey mounds of chocolate cherry cake, I hopped up again. “You know, I think I left something in my car. I’ll be right back.”
I practically ran out of the dining room, my keys in my hand, but I didn’t even make it to the front door.
“Not so fast.” There was an ugly look on Frank’s face as he dragged me back to the table.
“What are you doing? Let go of me.” I struggled in his grip but he was too strong for me. He pushed me back down in the chair I had vacated and stood right behind it, his heavy hands on my shoulders.
“Now, Luz,” Dad began in a father-knows-best kind of voice. “Your mother and I feel like you’ve been out on your own too long and you’ve made some fairly poor choices with your life.”
“You mean like refusing to let the pack master rape me?” I spat, the words finally bubbling to the surface after all these years.
“Now, now.” My mom looked distinctly uncomfortable. “What Daddy is saying is that we think it’s better for you to move back in with us for a while.”
I glared at her. “So you just want me to stay here? This has nothing at all to do with handing me over to Engle so he’ll step down as pack master and put Frank in his place?”
“So what if it does?” Essie narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re lucky the pack master still wants you at all! Here he waited all these years for your virginity and then you go and give it away to some dirty vampire just to spite him.”
“And you’re willing to stand by and let me get raped just to gain pack status.” I pointed a finger at Essie. “You’re no better than Mom and Dad.”
“Young lady, I will not be talked about like that in my own house,” my father blustered.
“Why? I’m just telling the truth. You people are sick—all of you are sick and what you’re doing to me is abduction and assault.”
“You’ve been living in the human world too long,” Frank growled behind me. “What we’re doing is giving the pack master his due. You’ve had several opportunities to go to him willingly but since you won’t, we’ll have to take you to him by force.”
“How could you do this?” I looked at my mom with tears in my eyes. “How could you lie to me to get me over here and then hand me over to be assaulted? I don’t understand how you could do this to your own daughter.”
Mom looked confused and upset. “But, sweetheart, I made your favorite cake,” she said at last, as though that excused everything.
“I don’t care about the fucking cake!” I screamed and everyone at the table flinched.
“That’s enough of this nonsense.” My father threw down his napkin. “Frank, take her to her room. She needs some time to calm down before she meets the pack master.”
I pretty much lost it then. I kicked and screamed and cursed and made it as difficult as possible for my thug of a brother-in-law to drag me upstairs. But as I said, he’s an alpha and incredibly strong so in the end I wound up in my old bedroom with a twisted wrist and without my cell phone. It was Essie’s idea to take that away but I kicked her a good one right in the stomach before she managed to snag it out of my jeans pocket so that was something. Still, the end result was the same. Me sitting on my old canopy princess bed decorated in unicorns and fairies, holding my swelling wrist, and waiting for the moment that had been coming to me for the last fourteen years.
The moment when Engle would take what he wanted, whether I wanted to give it to him or not.