Chapter 18

Triana sat at the small table in her mother’s kitchen, doing her best to eat breakfast, but the mere sight of the egg white omelet her mother had cooked made her feel ill. Out of the blue, a little voice in her head screamed out two words.

Morning sickness!

She told herself to chill out even as her pulse skyrocketed. No matter how queasy her stomach felt, she wasn’t pregnant. For one thing, she and Remy had used protection every time. For another, women didn’t usually get morning sickness so quickly. So, unless there was something about sleeping with a werewolf that invalidated the normal rules of conception, she was fine. Besides, she didn’t only feel like this in the morning. She’d felt crappy since Wednesday night. It didn’t escape her notice that she’d first begun feeling this way when things with Remy had fallen apart.

She had no idea exactly what that meant, but something told her it couldn’t be a good thing.

“Is Remy still downstairs?” she asked.

Her mother came over to the table with two mugs of coffee and sat down at the table opposite Triana. The power was back on, which meant the coffeepot was functional, so her mother was happy. Triana picked up her mug and took a sip.

Her mom shook her head. “Remy left already.”

Triana’s stomach lurched. “He went back to Dallas?”

“No. Some of their pack mates came in during the night to help with cleanup efforts in the city. I made them breakfast before they left, and let me tell you, those boys can eat. We’re out of nearly everything. I’m going to have to make a run to the grocery store later.”

Triana nodded, her heartbeat returning to normal as she realized Remy hadn’t left town yet. She really did have it bad for him. It was over between them, yet she was nearly having a panic attack at the thought of him leaving town without saying anything to her.

On the other side of the table, her mother regarded her with a knowing look.

“Is it that obvious?” Triana asked.

“That you’re in love with Remy? Yes, that part’s obvious. What isn’t so clear is what the heck is going on between the two of you.”

Triana picked up her fork but didn’t eat. Instead, she pushed her eggs around on the plate, trying to figure out where to start.

“I think I fell in love with Remy when I turned around and saw him standing there that first night at the club,” she said softly. “That might not sound like a big deal to you, considering how fast you and Dad got married, but for me, it was out there. I started thinking crazy things, like how I could see myself being with Remy for the rest of my life. I thought Remy felt the same way.”

“But?” her mother prompted.

Triana felt tears burn her eyes. “But a couple of days ago, something happened. I felt this weird…pop…I guess you’d call it. Like the connection between us broke. I’ve never experienced anything like it, but I knew in my heart something had changed and that Remy was pulling away.”

Her mom didn’t say anything and merely waited patiently for her to continue.

“Then Thursday night at dinner, before we came back and found those men in the shop, Remy told me he’d been in a relationship a long time ago and that he wasn’t interested in getting into another one. And just like that, it was over.”

“Over?” her mother echoed in surprise.

Triana nodded.

Her mom frowned. “So, if it’s over, why did he risk his life, and the lives of his pack mates, to come rescue you?”

Triana opened her mouth to answer but then closed it again. She honestly didn’t know.

“Well, it seems obvious he still cares about you.” Her mother regarded her over the rim of her mug. “When Remy told you it was over, did you tell him how you feel about him?”

Triana shook her head glumly.

Her mother laughed as she sipped her coffee.

Triana tried not to be offended, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart felt like it was broken into a million pieces, and her mom seemed to think it was hilarious.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she snapped. “I certainly don’t feel like laughing.”

Her mother did her best to stop but couldn’t hide the smile that remained. “I know, honey, and I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so much like me when I was your age and met your father. I told you I fell in love with him from the start, but what I didn’t tell you was that there were times when we were dating that his brooding drove me crazy. I probably would have sent him and his fangs packing if it hadn’t been for your grandma. She was able to see what we were both blind to—that we were in love with each other but too lazy to work for it.”

It was Triana’s turn to frown. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that loving a werewolf can be difficult. They’re big and strong, but that only means their luggage is a whole hell of a lot heavier. It takes a good soul mate to help them figure out how to carry it all. And right now, you suck in the soul mate category, dear.”

Her mom had always been blunt, but it was especially hard to hear her being so truthful when it came to Triana’s relationship with Remy.

“Were you afraid of Dad the first time you saw him change into a werewolf?” she asked.

“No, but that was because he wasn’t the first werewolf I’d seen.” Her mother gave her a sympathetic look. “Did seeing Remy like that scare you?”

Triana nodded.

“You were in shock, sugar. That’s normal.”

That didn’t make Triana feel any better. “Maybe, but you should have seen the look on his face when I backed away from him, Mom. I really hurt him.”

“Just because Remy is a werewolf, that doesn’t make him a monster. You know that, right?”

Triana nodded. She’d known that last night too—deep down, anyway—but that still hadn’t stopped her from cringing away from him. She picked up her fork and played with her eggs again. “Was it hard to love Dad?”

“You remember the part where I said his brooding drove me crazy, right?” Her mother’s eyes twinkled. “Honey, your father grew up on the streets, for all intents and purposes, on his own, and didn’t want anyone telling him how to run his life. I have to admit, I was stubborn too. There were a hundred times it could have all fallen apart, but it didn’t because we stuck to it and made it work. We weren’t perfect together, but we loved each other and recognized that we were better together than apart. And when you came along, we knew we’d done the right thing, because we were a family.”

Triana thought about that for a while until an absolutely crazy thought struck her, something she’d hadn’t considered at all since discovering werewolves existed and that her father was one.

“Since Dad was a werewolf, does that mean I’m going to be one too at some point? Is it hereditary, or is it passed through a bite, like in the movies?” She tensed as another thought struck her. “Oh crap, if Remy bit me anywhere while we were…you know…will that do it?”

Her mother shook her head. “A bite won’t do it, no matter how hard Remy might have nipped you. And while it might be hereditary, there are a lot of things that have to happen, at the right time and the right sequence, before a person can go through the first change.”

“What kind of things?” she asked, curious despite herself.

“From what I understand, a person has to have the werewolf gift inside him or her, then go through a horribly painful and traumatic experience. Usually something that nearly kills them,” her mother said. “If they survive, their body starts the change. As far as I can tell, while the gift itself might get passed on to a werewolf’s children, I’ve never seen it materialize in any of them, and I’ve talked to at least three dozen werewolves in my time.”

Triana was still wrapping her head around that when her mom looked pointedly at her plate of uneaten eggs.

“You aren’t hungry?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m not feeling very well.” When her mother gave her a worried look, Triana added, “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been feeling under the weather lately. I’m probably just coming down with a cold from being out in the rain so much.”

Her mother reached over to rest a hand on Triana’s forehead. “When did you start feeling like this?”

“Since Wednesday night, maybe Thursday morning,” Triana said. “Why?”

Her mom took her hand away with a sigh. “You’re not coming down with a cold, baby girl. What you’re feeling is the severing of the bond between you and Remy that you mentioned earlier.”

Triana shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense, Mom. Why would breaking up with him make me feel like this?” She’d broken up with guys before and never felt ill from it.

Her mother gave her a small smile. “Because you might have something so much more special with Remy than you could ever have imagined. You could be The One for him, and vice versa.”

The way her mom said the words made it seem significant, though Triana didn’t understand exactly how.

“Legend has it that there’s one person in all the world for a werewolf who can accept him for what he is,” her mother continued softly. “For Remy, you’re that person.”

It sounded so magical, so transcendent, so…romantic. “If that’s true, how could Remy walk away from what we had?”

Her mother’s smile was sad. “Only Remy knows the answer to that, my dear.”

Triana sighed. “Which is your way of saying I should find Remy and have that conversation about how we feel about each other, huh?”

“It is,” her mom agreed. “If you want to be in his life, and you want him in yours, Triana, you need to fight for it. If you love him, don’t let him walk away or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

Getting up, her mother pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then took Triana’s plate and walked over to the sink, leaving her to ponder how she was supposed to fight for a man who had made it clear he wasn’t interested in falling in love again.

* * *

Triana was poking voodoo dolls with a pricing gun, wondering what effect the little plastic pieces might have on future victims of the dolls, when the tinkling bell above the shop door rang. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was Remy. She knew it was him because she could feel him.

She set down the pricing gun and slowly turned around. He stood just inside the doorway, looking as bad as she felt. His eyes had dark circles under them and his face was haggard. His uniform was dry though, at least.

He gave Zane a nod, then looked at her. “Can we talk?”

Zane pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against, using his finger to mark his place in the book of spells he’d been reading. “I’ll be outside.”

“No, stay.” Triana glanced at Remy. “Let’s go for a walk. I’ve been cooped up in here all day.”

While she loved her mother’s shop, in all honesty, she could use some air. Even though it had stopped raining, Triana grabbed her coat, slipping it on before walking out the door Remy held open for her.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Nowhere in particular,” she said. “Let’s just walk.”

Between the cloudy night, light fog, and nearly empty streets, it felt like she and Remy had the city to themselves as they walked past Jackson Square and headed toward Woldenberg Park. She used to love going there with her father when she was little to watch the street performers and jazz musicians, so it seemed somehow fitting she and Remy went there to talk. If nothing else, maybe her father’s spirit could give her some insight into the workings of a werewolf’s mind.

Despite the decorative lamps along the paved walkway, darkness shrouded the area, but they managed to find a dry seat on one of the park benches. For a while, they both just sat there, gazing out at the Mississippi River, watching the water go past. Triana had so many thing she wanted to say, but she wasn’t quite sure how—or even where—to start. Beside her, Remy seemed to have the same problem.

“I’m sorry I scared you last night,” he finally said.

“I’m sorry I was scared.” She turned her head to look at him. “How did you become a werewolf?”

Triana held her breath, afraid to hear the answer. Her mother had said people who became werewolves had gone through a traumatic event that triggered the change. Loving Remy meant loving all of him, and that included his werewolf side. So while she didn’t want to know what horrible thing had turned him into a werewolf, she needed to know.

He started to speak, then cleared his throat and began again. “It happened when I was a marshal. Remember the other night when I told you I’d been involved with someone?”

Triana really didn’t want to know about the other woman in Remy’s life, but she nodded. “The woman you said things didn’t work out with, right?”

“Yeah.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “The reason it didn’t work out is because I got her killed.”

Whatever Triana had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. “What happened?”

Remy stared out at the river as he told her how he and his partner/lover had tracked three escaped prisoners to a farmhouse in Idaho. To hear him tell it, his arrogance had not only been the thing that sent them into the place without backup or even a plan, but that had also gotten Jess killed and turned him into a werewolf.

Triana’s first instinct was to point out that Remy wasn’t responsible for his partner’s death, that it had been the escaped convicts who killed her, not him. But she was sure other people had told him the same thing more than a few times. He still held himself accountable—maybe because he was the naturally heroic alpha her mother had told her about. He would always risk his life for others and always blame himself when he failed to save everyone.

“It ate at me for a long time. It still does in a lot of ways, I guess,” Remy continued, hunching over to rest his forearms on his thighs and stare down at the ground. “For months after her death, I kept wondering why she wasn’t the one who turned into a werewolf instead of me. Why didn’t she live and I die?”

Tears burned Triana’s eyes. This story would have been sad to hear anyone tell it, but listening to the man she loved recount it was pure torture. She moved closer, wrapping her arm around him.

“I hated being a werewolf,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Somehow, in my messed-up logic, it was the werewolf’s fault for changing me instead of Jess. So, to get my revenge on the beast, I started doing dangerous, outrageous stuff in an effort to get myself killed. I went after every bad guy on my own that I could find, but no matter what I did or how many times I got shot, the werewolf wouldn’t let me die.”

The tears she’d been holding back ran down her face. The idea of a world without Remy in it was one she couldn’t bear to think about.

“When the direct approach didn’t work, I started drinking—a lot,” Remy continued. “I couldn’t stand what I was, so I figured I’d drink the wolf into oblivion every night. People who know about the subject will tell you that a werewolf can’t get drunk because our bodies break down and eliminate toxins like alcohol faster than we can drink it.” He snorted. “It’s not something to brag about, but I disproved that particular piece of werewolf lore. We can get drunk; we just have to be committed to the task. Some guys walk into a bar and line up a bunch of shots, then knock them back one after the other. I did the same thing, except I’d line up full bottles of whiskey, then drain them one after the other until I was so drunk I couldn’t see straight.”

The image of Remy doing that to himself brought another rush of tears to her eyes. “What made you stop drinking?”

He turned his head to look at her, his mouth edging up at the corners. “Gage Dixon, the commander of the SWAT Team in Dallas and the alpha of my pack of alphas. He’d spent years tracking down werewolves who fit the mold of what he was looking for in a SWAT officer and found me. Between trying to get myself killed in the Marshals and drinking myself to death, I wasn’t exactly the poster child for the Dallas PD, but Gage wanted me on the team anyway.”

Remy had said the commander of the team was also the alpha of his pack—she assumed that meant he was the one in charge—which made her wonder how many werewolves beside Remy and his friends were in Dallas SWAT. But that was a question she could ask later. Right then, she was more interested in other things.

“What did Gage say to convince you to leave the Marshals and join SWAT?” she asked quietly.

Remy let out a short laugh. “It wasn’t what he said—at least right away. It was what he did.”

“What did he do?”

“He sat down on a barstool beside me and took away my last bottle of whiskey. I told him to go away and leave me alone, and when he didn’t, I got pissed and took a swing at him. One thing led to another, and we ended up getting in a fight and destroying the bar. There wasn’t a chair, table, or bottle that didn’t get smashed to hell by the time we were done.” Remy shook his head. “I’m not too proud to say that he kicked my ass. Then afterward, he told me something that forced me to take a step back and realize what a dumb-ass I’d been.”

“What’s that?”

“He asked me a simple question. If Jess had lived instead of me, would I want her to kill herself? His words were like a punch in the gut because if things were reversed, I knew it was the last thing I’d want. I also knew it was the last thing Jess would want.”

Sighing, Remy got up and walked over to stand near the railing. He gazed out at the water for a long time, saying nothing. Triana knew she should probably give him some space, but her mother’s words about fighting for him echoed in her head. How did one battle a ghost, though? Taking a deep breath, she stood and went over to stand beside him.

Remy turned away from the railing to look at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears. The sight made her heart ache. The wind coming off the water whipped at her hair, and he reached out to gently push it back from her face.

“I’m sorry about what I said at the restaurant the other night,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I never meant to hurt you.”

She gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. You may have moved on, but your heart stayed with a woman who died. I understand now why you can’t fall in love.”

He shook his head, his expression suddenly earnest. “That’s not it. Yes, I was in love before, but that’s not why I pushed you away. I was afraid if I got involved with you, let myself fall for you, the same thing that happened to Jess would happen to you. When Lee kidnapped you in the same warehouse we raided, I told myself I’d been right.”

Triana cupped his face in her hand. “That wasn’t your fault, Remy. I would have ended up going to that warehouse to track down my father’s killer whether we ran into each other at that club the other night or not. You weren’t the reason I went there, and you certainly weren’t the reason Quinn grabbed me. If anything, I’m alive right now because we did run into each other. You saved my life, Remy.”

“I know that now. Since Jess died, I’ve kept every woman at arm’s length until you. I told myself I was doing it to protect them, but I was really protecting myself. I didn’t want to go through that kind of pain again.” Remy’s mouth curved. “But while I cared deeply for Jess, what I have with you is different, Triana. More intense. When I saw you on the dance floor that first night here, it was like I found a part of my soul I didn’t even know was missing. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I feel so connected to you that sometimes I experience things you’re feeling, both physical and emotional. When you cut your finger the other night, I felt it. When Quinn knocked you unconscious in the warehouse, I felt it. When you were terrified Lee was going to kill your mother, I felt it. Last night, I felt your confusion and despair when you were upstairs with your mother. When you’re in a room, I can feel you nearby. It’s like you’re a part of me.”

Triana’s pulse skipped a beat. “I can feel you, too.”

He looked at her in surprise. “You can?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. At Lee’s house, I could feel you in the hallway outside the living room; then later at Mom’s place, I could feel you downstairs. And when you walked into the shop tonight, I knew it was you before I even turned around. This must be what Mom meant when she told me about The One.”

“She told you about that? What did she say?”

“That every werewolf has one soul mate out there who can love and accept them for what they are,” she said.

Remy took her hands in his. “Can you love me…knowing what I am?”

Triana smiled up at him, tears of happiness filling her eyes this time. “I already do, Remy. I think I loved you from the moment I turned around and saw you on that dance floor. Discovering you’re a werewolf kind of shocked me, I admit, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Nothing could do that.”

It had taken her all night and most of the day to come to that conclusion, but underneath the claws and fangs, he was still the guy she’d crushed on all through high school, the guy she was in love with now.

He grinned, letting out a sigh of relief. “You wouldn’t believe how good it is to hear you say those words. Even though I’m terrified of putting you in danger by loving you, I can’t stop the way I feel. I love you, Triana. I think I have since freshman year of high school.”

Cupping her face in his hand, he bent his head and kissed her. Triana glided her hands up the front of his shirt, one gripping his shoulder while the other found its way into his hair. Remy wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her tightly against him and making her wish they’d gone somewhere more private to have this conversation than a very public park. Then she remembered his hotel was only a short walk from the park.

She was about to remind Remy of that when he stumbled against her, almost making her fall. He lifted his head with a growl, his eyes flashing yellow as the tips of his upper canines extended.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

The sight of his fangs almost made her pull away, but she resisted the urge. She wasn’t doing that to Remy ever again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He didn’t answer but instead twisted around, reaching behind him with one hand as he looked over his shoulder. She gasped at the sight of the two darts the size of jumbo Magic Markers sticking out of his back. Her blood ran cold. Oh God. Those were tranquilizer darts, just like the ones used on her father. As she watched, another heavy dart slammed into Remy’s back, shoving him forward and almost sending him to his knees.

“Pull them out,” he growled when he couldn’t reach them himself.

Cursing herself for standing there like an idiot, Triana grabbed one and tugged, but it was stuck. “It’s too deep,” she said. “If I yank any harder, I’m going to hurt you.”

The growl he let out this time was closer to a roar, and she stared wide-eyed as his fangs extended farther. “It hurts already. Rip them out!”

Heart pounding, Triana wrapped her hand around the one closest to his shoulder and pulled hard. The end of the needle was barbed like a harpoon, ripping his skin and leaving a bloody, gaping wound in its wake. The sight of it was enough to make her feel sick.

“Do the same to the others,” he ground out, his face contorted in pain.

She yanked the other two darts out as fast as she could, tossing them on the ground. Her stomach plummeted as she realized they were empty. She remembered Quinn telling her the hunters had used tranquilizer drugs to slow down her father for the kill shot. They had to get out of here—now. She opened her mouth to warn Remy, but he’d already grabbed her hand and was running toward the parking lot near Café du Monde.

They didn’t get more than ten feet before two more darts slammed into Remy, one in his lower back, the other in the thick muscles of his upper left thigh. Crap. Without being prompted, Triana immediately pulled the one out of his back while he did the same to the dart in his leg. It didn’t matter though, because both were already empty.

Remy took her hand again and dragged her across the train tracks toward the parking lot. On the far side of the street, she could see a few patrons and waitstaff moving around inside the café. Once she and Remy reached it, they would be safe.

They were almost there when Remy suddenly slowed, then stumbled, the yellow glow dimming from his eyes. Whatever drugs had been in those darts was taking effect.

“Come on!” she urged. “We just have to make it across the street.”

Remy growled and nodded, shambling forward.

Triana tugged on his hand, fearing another dart—or worse—would come at him any second. But they were moving too slowly. They weren’t going to make it across the parking lot, much less all the way across the street to the café.

“Help me!” she shouted, waving her free arm wildly in the air, hoping someone would see them.

She was so focused on the people across the street she didn’t see the van careering through the parking lot until it screeched to a stop in front of them. For half a second she thought whoever was inside was there to help, but then the side door slid open and she saw men with guns.

Remy lunged at them with a savage growl, but the guns popped a few times and he immediately went down.

“Remy!”

Triana tried to keep him from falling, but he was too heavy for her, and she couldn’t keep him from tumbling all the way to the pavement. Then she saw a dark stain spread across the front of his shirt. She’d thought the men had dart guns, but they’d been pistols with silencers.

Three men jumped out of the van, rushing at her and Remy. She tried to shove them away, but one of the men got his arms around her from behind and tossed her in the van. A moment later, the other two flung Remy in beside her. With the amount of blood he’d already lost, there was no way he could still be alive. The thought that he might already be dead tore her heart in two. All she could do was pray the werewolf who’d refused to let Remy die so many times before would allow him to survive now.

The side door slammed and the vehicle took off with a squeal of tires, throwing Triana toward the back of the van. Rough hands caught her and jerked her to her knees. She turned, ready to take a swing at whomever it was. Her eyes went wide when she saw Quinn.

He blocked her fist with his hand. “Well, shit, girl. Long time no see.”

Triana screamed and launched herself at him. She’d rip him to pieces with her fingernails if she had to. But he only grinned and caught her by the throat like she was a toy, slamming her head against the inside wall of the van. Stars exploded in her vision and her body went limp as she collapsed to the floor beside Remy.

Oh God, not again.

The last thing Triana heard before losing consciousness was Quinn’s arrogant laugh.