Credo (Scars of the Wraiths Book 3) Page 9

  “Fuck. Fuck!” He also repeated his words when pissed. “You’re really trying to piss him off, aren’t you?” So Waleron had told Jedrik that he wanted me at the Talde house. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me. Frig, sass, for once, listen to him. Tarek nearly killed you. He wanted to kill you. He probably wants to now more than ever. Don’t you recall the testimony you gave the Deaconry? You put him in Rest for twenty years. Twenty years, sass. He’s going to be pissed. No, I won’t drop you at the goddamn gallery. You’re not getting your way this time.”

  A frumpy, bald man walked up to the window and knocked. Jedrik grinned and waved, then pressed his foot on the accelerator and sped out of the parking garage.

  I adjusted the fan so the heat was blowing on my face, then leaned back and closed my eyes. “I need to confront Tarek. It’s eating me alive inside that I let him treat me like that. I’m a Scar, Jedrik, and I know how to fight and I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t fight because you gave up after we thought Waleron died. You didn’t care, Delara. He took advantage of that.”

  “I let him,” I murmured.

  He was quiet for a few minutes, then, “So, what went down when he found you in New Orleans?”

  Oh, he caught me cutting. Not much, really. Just another day in Delara’s life. “He’s unhappy with Tarek rising”—Jedrik made a face that said duh—“and he suggested—”

  “Suggested?” Jedrik laughed.

  “Fine. He insisted I go to Europe. To stay with Xamien.”

  Silence.

  Jedrik glanced over at me and any playfulness was gone. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

  “What?” I attempted to get into his mind and read his thoughts, but Jedrik was good at blocking and he had his shields up.

  “Listen, sass, I can’t go against him this time. He’s right. Tarek was unstable before two decades of Rest and we don’t know what he’ll be capable of once he awakens. He’s unpredictable.”

  Shit. I should’ve known Jedrik wasn’t going to let me stay alone at the gallery.

  But there no way was I was going to live in fear of Tarek. I’d do whatever it took to face that bastard again, and this time I planned on him being the one to lie in the ditch.

  Jedrik had failed to inform me that Damien and Ryker were out of the subbasement. Ryker had been locked up for almost a year after his maite died and he’d lost it, and Damien had recently fallen for the witch-slash-vampire Abby, whom Waleron “killed”—or at least that’s what Damien was made to believe.

  Instead, Abby was hidden and locked up until someone decided what to do with her. Her ability to change water to blood was too powerful to the vampires to let her go.

  But now the two volatile Scars were uncaged and pissed off. How was I supposed to live in the Talde house with a bunch of raging male Rottweilers?

  I’d been there two hours and already needed to escape.

  I staggered to a stop as I bumped into a rock-hard chest coming out of the bathroom.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see….” His scent slammed into me. “Xamien.”

  His six-foot-five frame towered over my five-foot-three stature, and I had to crank my neck in order to see his face.

  “Delara.” He smirked.

  His shoulders were broad and arms muscled, although not like a body builder’s; rather, lean and sculpted. Xamien was attractive as hell and he had a constant revolving door of women in Spain. With our mindweaving we’d become close, although we rarely saw one another.

  He had no qualms about telling anyone what was on his mind, including me, and despite sucking sometimes, it was also refreshing.

  We also had sex. It was completely casual and neither of us wanted more, but I didn’t know why I kept going back to him. It was like he had a hold on me.

  My gaze met his obsidian eyes that slanted downward in the corners and were fringed with an abundance of lashes. Handsome with an exotic flavor. His nose was crooked. Not enough that it deterred from his good looks, just enough to give it character. I’d been trying for years to get out of him how he broke it, but he refused to tell me.

  He reached forward, tweaking the tip of my nose with his finger. “Kitten,” he said. “How was your stay in New Orleans?”

  He knew about my secret place, as I usually went there after I visited him in Spain. “What are you doing here?”

  He slipped his arm around my waist and dragged me against him. “You look hot when you’re flustered.”

  “Xamien—”

  He kissed me, lips roaming over mine lazily.

  Shit, no. I shoved on his chest. “Xamien. We can’t do that here.”

  “Then get your sexy ass to Spain more often, kitten.”

  “What are you doing here?” Xamien never came to Toronto. Ever.

  “I’ll explain later. Having a meeting with Keir right now.”

  “But—”

  “Keep the claws retracted, kitten.” He winked and casually walked down the hall and into the library.

  Xamien didn’t even look remotely concerned about kissing me in a house where Waleron could appear at any second.

  But then, why would he? He’d made it clear that he couldn’t care less if Waleron knew about our friendship with benefits. He’d told me I shouldn’t care either. Waleron and I weren’t together. Still, I didn’t want it thrown in his face that I had sexual interludes with the Taldeburu from Spain.

  Well, that certainly would deter Waleron from sending me there. I still couldn’t do it, despite Waleron breaking my heart over and over again. This was different. This wasn’t me fucking a vampire for info or using the Wraith Edan in order to get into the Deaconry. This was Xamien, a powerful Taldeburu who was well-respected.

  “Where you going?” Jedrik asked, sauntering up beside me with a sandwich in hand.

  “Escape from the overabundance of male hormones. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving my cage. Merely need some fresh air.”

  He nodded toward the library. “You meet Xamien? You must have just passed him. He arrived a couple days ago.” Even Jedrik didn’t know I went to Spain to see Xamien. “That guy is a powerhouse. Fearless son of a bitch. Real cool, though. Pretty laid-back considering who he is and shit. You remember he saved your ass way back when, so play nice.”

  Yeah, I remembered.

  It was the mindweaving that kept me going back to Xamien; it calmed me. I didn’t know why, but Xamien said it probably had to do with him being deep inside my mind when I’d been my most vulnerable after Waleron “died.” But it felt like something else.

  “Why is he here, Jedrik?”

  Jedrik cleared his throat and shifted his feet. “Uh, what’s he doing here?”

  “Yes, what’s he doing here?”

  He groaned. “Frig, sass, I wanted to tell you but…. Listen, Waleron asked him to come and take you to Spain, but—”

  “Jesus.” Waleron had lied to me. He let me come home believing we were going to discuss the matter, but he had no intention of discussing it at all. He’d brought Xamien here to make sure I went to Spain.

  But Xamien should’ve refused. He knew I wanted to confront Tarek.

  “Frig, sass—”

  “That isn’t happening.” I turned on my heel and stormed toward the library.

  Fuck no. I wanted my revenge. No, I needed it, damn it. Neither Waleron nor Xamien were going to steal that from me.

  “Whoa, sass!” Jedrik yelled. “Wait up.” He jogged to catch up to me.

  I put my hand on the doorknob and he grabbed my arm.

  “You can’t go in there. Xamien—I so don’t want to get on his bad side. If you could wait….” His words trailed off as I threw open the door.

  With hands on my hips, spine stiff, and chin jutting out, I perused the elegant room and the men. Three gazes turned to me, but no one said a word.

  Welcome to the boys’ club.

  Xamien sat casually in a high-backed leather chair, legs outstretched, ankles crossed; a glass filled
with clear liquid sitting on the chair’s arm with his hand curled around it.

  Keir sat behind his desk, feet propped up on the oak surface with a glass of… I sniffed the air… scotch.

  Damien stood in the corner, the bottle of scotch in hand, his eyes pensive and cold. After months in solitary, Damien appeared semi-sane, but that wouldn’t last long when he found out Abby was alive.

  Damien stiffened and his gaze narrowed in on me. Christ, I’d have to be careful around him. He was obviously attempting to scan my thoughts. Did he suspect that Abby was alive?

  I turned to Xamien and was greeted with a grin and scintillating eyes, because he knew damn well why I was mad. Our mindweaving allowed him to easily get into my thoughts, even if I had them shielded. At first it had pissed me off and I didn’t like it, but I discovered that it was easier this way and maybe why we’d become great friends. I couldn’t hide with Xamien. He saw me for who I was: good, bad, fucked-up.

  “Everyone is looking at you, kitten. Better say something.”

  I pursed my lips. “Was I going to be informed of this arrangement? Or just drugged and thrown on a plane?”

  Xamien set his drink on the table next to him and, like an agile cat waking from an afternoon nap, came to his feet. Damn, he was sexy, and the arrogant bastard knew it.

  With the grace of a king, he bowed his head and bent slightly at the waist. “My deepest apologies. I did not introduce myself.” I rolled my eyes at his acting. “You may have forgotten our meeting many years ago. Xamien, at your service.” He winked, keeping his head angled so Keir and Damien were unable to see him.

  I snorted. God, he sucked at lying. “How about you take your kiss-ass manners and ship them and yourself back to Spain.” I shifted my weight, cocking my hip and placing my hand on it.

  “Kiss-ass manners?” Xamien said. “You never complained about my manners when I politely tied you up and sucked on your pussy until you screamed with pleasure.”

  Bastard. “I’m not going to Spain. Waleron told me he’d talk to the Deaconry.”

  Damien grunted, then took a swig from the bottle. He had dark circles under his eyes and had lost weight, his cheekbones more defined, although his muscles were lean and he obviously was continuously working out.

  How could Xamien sit here with him when the woman Damien loved was locked in his house?

  I wanted to tell Damien Abby was alive, but Abby didn’t want Damien to know. She hated who she was now. Hated that she craved blood and would kill anyone in order to get it. Waleron agreed. Damien would try to free her and Abby was too dangerous to ever walk this Earth.

  Damien’s eyes snapped to me and the bottle shattered in his grasp, shards of glass mixed with amber liquid falling to the floor.

  “Don’t even think about her, kitten. He is scanning us constantly. He won’t be able to pick up words, but he’ll pick up on her name crossing your mind.”

  Shit.

  Xamien raised his brows, square jaw relaxed. “Waleron has decided it’s safer for you to come to Spain.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Xamien spoke telepathic again.“Kitten, don’t argue. He asked me after he found you in your swamp shack. He knew you wouldn’t allow him to Trace with you to Spain.” Waleron was unable to Trace with me if I was unwilling. “I know you want revenge, but Waleron isn’t going to allow it. Come to Spain.”

  “Damn it, Xamien. You know how I feel.”

  “I do. But you are not ready to face Tarek. And, I don’t know if you’ll ever be. His hold on your mind was powerful.”

  “He’s weak right now. I can resist him.”

  Jedrik lightly touched my sleeve. “Delara, maybe you need to think about this?”

  “I don’t need to think about it. Xamien, I’d appreciate if you’d discuss this with Waleron.”

  Xamien gave a diminutive nod. “I’ll speak with him.”

  I hadn’t expected him to give in so quickly. “You will?” Jedrik and I said at the same time.

  “Listen, kitten, I don’t know Waleron very well. Only met him a couple times, and from what you’ve told me he will do anything to protect you, so I don’t think it will do any good. But I will speak with him.”

  He’d become a good friend. And even though we added sex into the mix, we weren’t exclusive. Xamien didn’t believe in it, and I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I never would again.

  “Thank you, Xamien.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sat in the lounge chair, legs outstretched, ankles crossed, and his drink stayed untouched on the side table. He rarely touched anything that dulled or distorted his state of mind.

  He picked up his glass, swirled the clear liquid twice, and then took a long draw, which surprised me. The movement of the alcohol sent a wave of its scent through the air and I smelled the coolness of straight vodka.

  Direct and honest, just like him.

  Xamien set his glass down. “Fuck, I want you to ride my cock right now. Nice and fuckin’ slow.”

  My eyes narrowed and Xamien produced a cocky smirk. The thing about Xamien was he was intense, playful, and a ruthless killer. He also liked to get me riled up. “So are the rumors true?” I smiled. “Are you really as piss-poor in bed as they say you are?”

  “Oh, kitten, you are playing with fire.”

  “Friggin’ Christ, Delara.” Jedrik slapped the heel of his hand on his forehead.

  Keir stood, knocking over his chair in the process. “Delara. Xamien is a Taldeburu and to be treated with respect.”

  Damien shook his head in disgust and left.

  Xamien laughed, his deep baritone filling the room, the sound causing both Keir and Jedrik to stare with shock.

  Keir sat again and refilled his glass then looked from me to Xamien. “What’s going on here?”

  “Already causing trouble. Keir suspects something,” Xamien said.

  “Yeah, that I don’t like you,” I replied.

  He chuckled. “Delara, you’re a fascinating woman. And if you weren’t”—his grin widened and he winked—“in love with another man, I’d suggest you find out for yourself.”

  Jedrik smothered his chuckle with a cough.

  “Don’t bring him into this.”

  “Aw, kitten. When will you realize he is always in it?” He reached for his glass and swallowed the last of the vodka, then rose and came toward me, stopping inches away. Xamien’s eyes were somber as he said, “I can see why he loved you. He was foolish to let you go.”

  Xamien knew my emotional roller coaster over Waleron, what he’d done, the hurt and pain, and now my need to forget my past with Waleron. Something Xamien refused to take away, even though he said it was possible.

  “Keir,” Xamien nodded to him, then Jedrik, and finally me before he brushed by me and left the room.

  I made my way upstairs to the guest bedroom and shut the door. This was going to blow up in our faces.

  I was trying to make light of me being there, but Delara was on edge. I was fucking her and she didn’t want Waleron to know.

  When Waleron asked me to come to Toronto to escort Delara back to Spain, I’d refused—until he informed me the Wraiths were involved. That meant Delara had no choice but to come to Spain, and if she fought it, she faced being sent to Rest. Something I wouldn’t allow if I could help it.

  Delara and Waleron’s toxic love was known throughout the Scar world. I knew it intimately after the mindweaving. It wasn’t only that; I felt the man all around her. She never went anywhere without a piece of him. It was like he lived inside her and probably why she’d asked me to mindweave with her and erase those pieces.

  I wouldn’t. Not a chance in hell.

  I loved Delara, but it was a different kind of love than what she had with Waleron. That was all consuming; what we had was friendship with the occasional fuck. No strings and simple.

  Waleron and Delara hadn’t been together for twenty years. It was one of the first questions I’d asked when we entertained the idea
of having sex. I may not have been a friend of Waleron’s, but the guy was a Taldeburu and that required some sort of loyalty.

  On Delara’s last visit to Spain several months ago, I’d read like a huge billboard her revenge against Tarek plans on her mind. Revenge was hazardous, and a person often reacted out of anger instead of using their head. But after what she’d suffered, I couldn’t blame her and I supported her decision. I also couldn’t go against Waleron and the Wraiths.

  Fuck, either way this wasn’t going to end pretty.

  I took out the latest Tom Clancy novel from my knapsack then propped myself up on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and opened the book.

  I’d read two paragraphs before there was a knock on the door. I immediately scented her and her emotions were heated. Although, it wasn’t the kind of heated I wanted.

  “Come in, kitten,” I called while lowering my book to my lap.

  Delara opened the door and stood on the threshold, her wild strands of hair hanging in disarray, fingers tapping on her thighs, and her mouth firm.

  “You have to leave, Xamien. Tomorrow. After you talk to Waleron.”

  I sighed, picking up my book and showing her the cover. “Have you read Tom Clancy?” Her exasperation had my mouth twitching. “I swear I feel like I’m there when I read his words on the page. Hypnotic, really.”

  “You and your reading,” she muttered.

  “Clears the mind.” Xamien placed his book beside him on the comforter. “Takes you to another place to live without getting killed.”

  She huffed. “Why do you need to go anywhere? Your life is one of those books.”

  “There are no vampires, kitten. Just kick-ass guns and sometimes a hot woman.”

  “If you want hot women then read a romance.”

  “And you read romance?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes. Maybe you should pick one up and learn something.”

  I laughed. She was referring to my unwillingness to form any attachments to a woman. “Ah, kitten, reading about some sappy guy acting foolish over a chick isn’t my thing. That’s just embarrassing.”