The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) Page 6

  “Hmmm. So this must have happened a few more times?”

  Jes nodded. “Frequently after that—until I learned to control them,” she finished quietly. “I just always tried to hide it from you.”

  Her grandmother gave her that look that grandmothers loved to give, but didn’t say anything. “And what other types of things—of this nature—have happened? And why didn’t you come to me?”

  “I didn’t come to you—because I didn’t want to talk about it—just like I don’t want to talk about it now,” Jes said with more than a little rancor. Then, she immediately apologized for her rude tone.

  Her grandmother waved it away. “I don’t mean to upset you, child. Your answers are important to me—for reasons I don’t want to get into at the moment.”

  Jes’s gaze narrowed on her. After a long moment, when it was apparent her grandmother wasn’t going to leave it alone, she said, “I… ummm… can draw things to me—in the same way as I can push them away. And I can—cause them to kind of—blow up….” She winced. “Not bad—just like a burst of—forced air.”

  If her grandmother was surprised to hear this, she didn’t show it. “I see. And you didn’t think this was important to talk about either?” She waved away the retort Jes was about to release. “Okay, Jes. We’ll let it go for now. But you’re going to have to settle your mind onto having a talk about it again—and soon.”

  “Yes, Nanna,” Jes said. But not too soon, she thought with some rebellion. And with that she hugged her grandmother and left.

  Chapter Seven

  Jes and Justice

  Jes was sitting in her best friend’s living room two hours later, holding a cup of coffee heavily laden with French Vanilla crème between her hands. And she was babbling incoherently about Justice.

  Or so her friend had accused her.

  “You’re not making any sense, Jes,” Katherine complained to her.

  Frustrated, Jes started over, and made an honest attempt at slowing down—filling in the blanks. She watched Kat’s eyes go from amazed, to shocked, to floored by the end of her story.

  Kat was of the Jaguar People, so that was a plus, and she was happily mated to her true mate of the Jaguar People, another plus, but Jes had never told her about Justice. And Kat wasn’t sympathizing with Jes for keeping this secret from her—or about Jes calling Justice a monster.

  Not at all.

  “How could you say that?!” Kat said in exasperation.

  “How can you not!” Jes shot back at her.

  “Jes,” Kat rubbed the bridge of her nose and tried again. “He’s your life mate. You are tied to him for all eternity. You can’t just sell him up the river!” She got up from where she had been seated on the floor in front of the coffee table. “How could you have kept all of this from me all this time?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jes said quietly. “It just—hurt so much.” She looked up at her friend. “I missed them all so much. And he murdered those kids… I didn’t know him at all.”

  Her friend came to sit beside her—and hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Jes. It must have been difficult—having them all just disappear like that.” She looked into her friend’s eyes. “Then having nearly everyone you loved—and trusted, also disappear, around that same day,” she said. “Well, save for your grandparents.”

  Jes sniffed, wishing Kat wouldn’t be quite so understanding. It made her want to cry. “I don’t know what I would have done without them,” she agreed. “But Justice—,” she looked at her friend and stressed, “is a murderer.”

  “Jes, you can’t be serious! How can you say things like that—and about your own life mate?”

  “I—just can! Because it’s the truth! He’s a murderer!”

  “He is an Ancient One—who hears the ancient call!”

  “The hell you say!”

  Jes had heard of such ones—the ones who hunted those who murdered. She had even said as much to Jared—but she didn’t really believe in such things—at least not nowadays. Maybe there had been a place for them—way back in history—but not anymore. There wasn’t an excuse for being a vigilante!

  “Jes!”

  Jes sighed. “Okay, okay. I take that back.”

  Kat dimpled. “Jes, you must give him a chance to explain. Do not assume anything. Not one thing. Please. You must hear me on this.”

  Jes’s gaze narrowed on her friend. She knew her friend—knew her well. “What are you hiding?”

  Kat shrugged, raising her brows and giving a sheepish smile.

  “Spill it!” Jes growled.

  Laughing, Kat shook her head. “I cannot. I’m bound by the code of the parliament. It is my position. I cannot violate it. You know that.”

  Frustrated, Jes chewed on her lip. “Can you give me a clue?”

  Kat sighed. She sat there, deep in thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I can see nothing that would not violate my oath. But I can tell you—there is a book that can.”

  Jes was intrigued. “What book?”

  But, once again, Kat only shook her head.

  She was still shaking her head to nearly every question when Jes left.

  Jes didn’t sleep much that night. She tossed and turned. She doubted she would ever be able to sleep well again. When she did sleep, she slept fitfully, and when she woke, it was still dark. She could feel him. She could feel him as clearly as she could feel herself. She could hear his heartbeat. And—she could smell the scent of him, as clearly as she could smell anyone else: but unlike anyone else—she was aroused by his scent.

  He was in her room again.

  “Are you going to show up this way every night now?” she asked without preamble.

  “Perhaps,” he said.

  “Why?” There wasn’t anger in her voice either. She was just sleepy. And she just didn’t know what to do about the whole situation. She didn’t know what to do about how she felt every time she was near him—asleep or not. She watched him for a moment, peering into the dark, trying to see him better.

  “Don’t you know?”

  She swallowed.

  “Yes. I can see that you do. But you don’t like it much.” He shifted. “If it helps any—neither do I.”

  For some reason, that angered Jes. She should have been relieved. But relief was not what she felt. Not at all. She hadn’t liked the sound of that. “Then why show up here?”

  He laughed. “I see you fight yourself.” He strode to her bed. “You’re not immune at all.”

  She scrambled to the other side of the bed like the cat she was, setting herself on all fours, ready to tear the sheets up—and his face with them.

  He laughed, again.

  She didn’t like that either.

  He leaped across the bed in a flash, so fast it was like a blur to her. One moment she was ready to fight, the next she was gathered up tightly in his arms—where she felt as though she’d known his touch forever.

  In desperation she blurted out. “Our parents disappeared at the same time.”

  That got his attention.

  He let her go, sitting up. “What did you say? I didn’t know that you knew that!”

  She sighed—half in relief, half in regret. “I know, but our parents disappeared at the same time—as in—for the same reason.” She looked up at him. Something in his eyes made her gut wretch with pain. “Our fathers were best friends…. They disappeared for the same reason.”

  His eyes clouded with what looked like rage—or pain—right before the shutters went down and she saw no more. She had expected to see rage—but why would a killer have so much pain in his eyes?

  He sat there, still as stone. She wanted to shake him. She should be able to read his thoughts. Couldn’t he read hers? Why did she always get a blank slate?

  “Because I have learned to shield my thoughts from others,” he answered, almost as if he’d automatically answered.

  She frowned. She was going to have to learn how to do that.

  “Well, then,” he said
out loud. “It looks as if we need to find some things out. So we’re going to have to make a trip—together.”

  She shook her head at the thought. “Oh, no,” she shook her head again, “no. I’m not going anywhere with you—so you can just get that thought out of your head right now.” She tried again to listen to his thoughts—nothing—damn.

  He almost smiled. She saw the beginnings of one, teasing at the corners of his lips.

  “Yes,” he said, “you are.”

  She frowned. She’d already forgotten what they were talking about. Why was she so easily distracted by him? When she remembered, she shook her head again. “No! I’m not! So you can just forget it!”

  He sprang forward and had gathered her back into his arms before she could think to react. Where had he gotten such reflexes? He made hers look tame in comparison.

  He touched the end of her nose with a finger and gave her a light, chaste kiss on her lips. “Yes, you are. And you’ll want to go, because now the postcard I received last year begins to make sense.”

  “What postcard?” She was intrigued in spite of herself.

  “The one I received, with some cryptic message that the three of them were fine. It said we weren’t supposed to look for them.”

  She frowned. “Three of them?”

  “Hmmm,” he said. “Apparently, one of them is not fine.”

  Her gut clenched. That didn’t bode well. She might have lost a parent, and hadn’t known it all this time. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “When did your parents disappear?” he questioned, his tone gentle.

  “Right after we went to your murder scene,” she snarled, struggling to break loose.

  He let her go, frowning—the shutters going down on his expression once more. She almost regretted her outburst.

  Almost.

  But then she remembered the bloody, sliced-up bodies lying in the alley. “Are you going to deny that was you, then?” She backed out of his reach. “Are you going to deny killing those young men?”

  He shook his head. Was that regret she saw? His mask had actually slipped for a second there.

  He got up and headed for the door. “Be ready at midnight. It will be a fast trip. I have deadlines to meet, but I will have answers that will be met first.” His tone held menace that ran shivers up her spine.

  She stared at him.

  How could she go anywhere—with a killer?

  But how could she not? Especially when Kat had spoken of a book that would tell her everything she needed to know. She said this, now, to Justice. She didn’t know why she told him about it. It wasn’t like her to do so. But she felt the urgency to tell him, and she always trusted her instincts.

  He frowned as she told him, but it was the only indication he gave as to his thoughts. If this concerned him, he gave no indication.

  He only said for her to be ready by midnight.

  She was still arguing with herself an hour later—while she packed. She had called her partner and given him an excuse for her disappearance for the next couple of days. He hadn’t been happy. She didn’t blame him. He didn’t know Justice. And—well, what he did know was that she believed Justice to be a murderer—even if he had been the one who had argued on Justice’s behalf when he felt that perhaps she should have been the one to do so.

  But still, she was the one who believed he was a murderer. And now she was going to go off with him. He didn’t think it was a good idea.

  And neither did she.

  And what was she thinking, anyway—to go anywhere with this man? But how could she not? He held clues to her parents’ disappearance—apparently to both of their parents’ disappearances.

  How could both of their parents have disappeared at the same time? She needed to know the answer to that question. She needed to know what had happened to her parents. What could have possibly happened to cause them both to disappear? Whatever it was—it couldn’t have been good. She frowned.

  She didn’t believe in coincidences.

  And it was a mighty strange coincidence, wasn’t it—that a fourteen-year-old boy was forced to transform—to take his jungle form so early in his life—when all the others had to wait to reach their majority? And then to have two sets of parents just disappear, right off the map.

  No. Jes didn’t believe in coincidences. Especially when she was sure—these occurrences were not a coincidence at all.

  She frowned again. But who could have known he could be forced to change early? Or had they known it could happen? Perhaps they hadn’t been trying to get him to transform at all….

  But that would mean—they’d been trying to kill him….

  That thought made Jes tremble. In fact, she started trembling so hard, she had to sit down. They had nearly succeeded in killing him. But why would they do it?

  And why was she always so hard on him anyway? He’d been fourteen years’ old. Anyone would back him up on what he’d had to do.

  And be upset with her calling him a murderer.

  Because, she thought, the Jaguar People were supposed to protect the humans.

  And he had left her behind, a little voice said in the back of her mind.

  Okay, she admitted to herself—so maybe she didn’t have a problem with him defending himself—at all. Maybe she just felt betrayed.

  It couldn’t be that easy! She had been hunting him for years!

  Resolutely, she turned her attention back to why they had been trying to kill him in the first place. Had they been sent to kill him—on purpose?

  That couldn’t be right. That couldn’t have been what they were trying to do. Yes, the gangbangers would have been up for it. They hated him. But why would someone want to hire them to do such a thing?

  Justice wasn’t the only one who was determined to have answers. She was just as determined to find her parents as he was to find his. And why shouldn’t they be? Anyone would—wouldn’t they?

  Was she only making excuses for going with him?

  No. She was sure anyone in her position would do the same. So she would go.

  But why midnight?

  Chapter Eight

  Jes

  Justice couldn’t believe he was doing this. He didn’t need to do this. In fact, he didn’t have time to do this, but he had felt compelled to do so. This was the time that he and his sisters had banked on him finding their opportunity—their chance.

  He needed time with Jes. He needed to get through to her; he couldn’t bear her hate. He couldn’t take it. He could take his own; he could take anyone else’s—for what he’d done, for what he had continued to do.

  But he couldn’t take her hate—not from her.

  He needed time—time to get her to realize she was his life mate—and without her—well, she may as well take the air that he breathed, as do that to him.

  He’d been forced to leave her once.

  He would never do so again—especially after seeing her walking toward him… no—make that stalking toward him—stark naked.

  He’d had no choice but to leave her the first time, all those years ago. Had no choice but to walk away, again, the other night.

  Not with a human standing there watching him.

  And not with the terrible things Jes had been thinking about him.

  He looked over at her now. She hadn’t said a word since they’d started driving. He wished she’d say something—anything. But she hadn’t said a word.

  And she continued to think those hateful thoughts—about him being a murderer; she continued to judge him for what had taken place that day.

  It didn’t help at all that he could usually read her mind—not as often as she seemed to think, but most of the time.

  But it still hadn’t helped him.

  He didn’t understand women—even when he knew what they were thinking.

  It was more than a thousand miles to Colorado, and he had driven her half-way there without saying a single word to her. She watched him. She didn’t try to hide the fact that she was
doing so.

  It wouldn’t have done any good to pretend otherwise.

  He would have known—no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

  She didn’t try to hide her thoughts from him either. She didn’t have the faintest clue how to do so anyway. She watched him now, half leaning against the pickup door to do so. He finally stopped staring straight ahead at the road, as if he was ignoring her, and actually looked at her.

  She frowned. “When, exactly, did your parents disappear?”

  It was his turn to frown. “They didn’t come to the hospital. And they were gone when I got out. They had changed—a lot—but not so much that they wouldn’t have come to the hospital to see me—so I always assumed they didn’t come—because they couldn’t come. Not that it made much difference. They were gone long before then. That was just the day that they left physically.”

  She chewed on her lip, absorbing that. “What do you mean they left long before that?”

  He half-shrugged. “I meant that something happened long before that day,” he muttered. “Something took them away from me and my sisters long before that day. One day we were a family—close—doing things that all families do. And then the next… suddenly they just weren’t there anymore—didn’t pay attention anymore. It was as if they had become a shell of who they had been before.”

  She cocked her head to one side, thinking about what he’d just revealed. “When, exactly, did they change?”

  He did look at her then, and he frowned again. “I suppose a few years before. They’d had a business. We were all doing really well. Then, one day, it was all gone. Along with it went the loving parents we had always known.” He stared ahead at the road. “It was like, in their place, was a replica of the people they had been. They looked the same—but nothing about them was the same. I was too young to really understand what was happening to them—heck, I still don’t. By the time I would have started to figure it all out, all hell broke loose—then, on top of it, they disappeared.”

  Jes frowned—again—at this. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  He nodded. “I never thought too much about it—but neither do I.”