Twisted Fate: Of Love And Darkness Part 8

Gavin and Quentin had retrieved Sydney's car, running as good as new, so she no longer had to rely on others for a ride to work. Still, on Thursday morning, Gavin got up, and without a word, stood at the door, waiting to drive her to work.

"Why?" she asked as he opened the door and invited her to step onto the front porch.

"You have a lousy sense of direction. I wouldn't want you to get lost on the way to work."

It took her a moment to realize he was teasing her. And another moment to realize she liked it.

On Friday evening, she had to work another event. Gavin took her to work, but explained that he'd arranged for William to pick her up. The subzero temperatures finally broke, and more humans than usual tended to hang out in downtown Detroit on weekend evenings. He had no doubt there would be action-bad action-tonight, and he felt an overpowering need to be there, to do what he could to protect the humans from his own kind.

Sydney tried not to find it endearing that he insisted upon protecting the humans in Detroit, from his own kind, no less. If she started thinking about him in such a positive light, well . . .

"Okay," she responded.

They had formed a sort of uneasy truce. He continued to sleep in her bed each and every night, but aside from cuddling while they slept and occasionally unconsciously thrusting his groin, that was all he did. They spoke like polite acquaintances during the day, and he managed to be at least halfway civil to the increasing number of shifters who were taking up residence in the house.

The only issue occurred when one of the newest shifters questioned him as he stalked down the hall toward Sydney's bedroom one evening. She had a strict rule with all of her suitors that they were not allowed into her bedroom without her express permission, and the new shifter called Gavin out on it. Gavin responded by punching him once and knocking him out cold. No one else questioned him after that.

Before he left the house Friday evening, Gavin went to the living room and made a general announcement about his intentions. He was used to working alone and didn't particularly like most of these Light Ones, but it was supposedly in their blood to want to destroy the Rakshasa too, so he felt obligated to at least put the option out there.

No one offered to go with him.

Gavin stood there staring at the bunch of them. There were more than twenty now. Most were slouched in the living room, on furniture or the floor. Another television had been brought into the room, and some were either watching or playing a video game, while the rest were zoned in to the other television, where the Red Wings were trouncing the other team on the ice.

Beer bottles, pizza boxes, bags of chips, and pretzels littered the floor and the coffee table. Blankets and sleeping bags were piled haphazardly in a corner. The floor looked as if it hadn't been vacuumed in a month. In another corner, various duffel bags were piled together, along with dirty clothes and a.s.sorted pairs of shoes. The place looked like the ultimate bachelor pad. The only thing missing was p.o.r.n on the television. He had a feeling that happened later in the evening, when they were sure Sydney was sleeping.

"Hey." When no one acknowledged him, he grabbed the remote and threw it at the larger television, the one the majority of the group was watching. The screen cracked and went black. Several shifters protested, but he finally had everyone's attention.

"You all are lazy f.u.c.king slobs." He paced as he ticked off instructions on his fingers.

"If you want to stay in this house for one minute longer, you have to follow a few ground rules. One: clean up after yourselves."

Gavin watched as most of them darted their gazes around the room. He wondered if they even noticed their mess. Most guys didn't.

"If you are having issues figuring out how or what to clean, the Fate will be happy to give you an a.s.signment." He allowed himself a small smile. Make William do the work organizing their cleaning habits. I like that idea.

"Two: you need to bathe at least every third day. Some of you smell like G.o.dd.a.m.ned wild animals." He watched as several sniffed at their armpits.

"Nick." Gavin pointed at the youngest shifter in the bunch, the one who created the dating schedule. "You make up a showering schedule. There are two bathrooms in this house. Make sure you s.p.a.ce things out so the hot water tank can keep up. Check with Sydney's schedule first. She gets first dibs. I guess the Fate should get second," he said as an afterthought. He wasn't worried about himself. He could always shower at his own apartment. Or, if he ever got lucky enough, he'd be happy to share Sydney's shower.

"And third: this is not a free for all. You need to contribute if you are going to live here. And the way you are going to contribute is by helping kill off the Rakshasa."

He watched as they all gave each other uneasy glances. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with this group?

Ignacio finally piped up. "Most of us have some experience with battling Rakshasa. But it's been a long, long time. We all thought the Chala were extinct, so there didn't seem to be a reason to keep fighting. Some have never fought a day in their lives." He waved his hand in Nick's direction. As if to emphasize Ignacio's point, Nick nodded.

Gavin stared at him. "Are you f.u.c.king kidding me?" Why would they all give up like that? Didn't they realize that Rakshasa were far more fertile than Light Ones, and if they did not keep the population in check, they would eventually take over the world?

There was some uneasy shifting and darted glances around the room, but no one denied Ignacio's words.

"f.u.c.k me," Gavin muttered as he stormed out of the living room and headed down the hall to William's bedroom. When he walked in without knocking, he found William and Quentin in the room together. He tried really hard not to think about what they had been doing, or possibly were about to do.

"Do you realize none of your Chala's suitors have the wherewithal to fight off the G.o.dd.a.m.ned Rakshasa?"

William's brow furrowed. "I noticed none seemed as eager as you to go off to track them down, but when you say 'wherewithal' . . ."

"I mean, not a one has any interest in fighting. Apparently the youngest ones haven't even done it at all. As far as any of us were aware, there hasn't been a Chala in two hundred years, so they just quit trying. Lying down and letting the Rakshasa take over." He was breathing heavily and suspected his eyes were glowing. He felt very strongly about his point.

William glanced at Quentin and nodded slowly. "I had not realized things were so dire. I suppose it is a good thing she did not choose to mate with any of them. If I am going to allow her to go into someone else's protection, it has to be someone who really will protect her. Besides the fact that no one knows if there are any other Chala left, I happen to care for her a great deal."

"She's under my protection." Gavin growled and stabbed his thumb at his chest. "And I will protect her. And those a.s.sholes out there need to learn how to do it, too." He pointed at the open door through which he had just entered.

William gave Quentin a little push. "You'd better go with him. Make sure he doesn't do anything rash. I'm afraid Sydney has become somewhat used to his presence around here."

Quentin nodded then he and Gavin left the room.

As if reiterating what William told Quentin, Sydney defended Gavin when William picked her up from work. "I want to learn how to fight."

"You are surrounded by almost two dozen shifters and your own personal Fate, and you think you need to fight? Are you implying that one of them is treating you poorly? Is it the Rakshasa? Because I know a few curses of my own-"

"His name is Gavin, William. Stop calling him the Rakshasa. It's so impersonal. And no, no one is treating me poorly. They all treat me like a queen, even after I inform them that I won't be their mate."

William slid her a sideways glance. "It sounds as if you may be warming to, uh, Gavin."

Sydney shrugged and turned to stare out the side window. "I guess I'm starting to get used to him. He's not really as mean as he likes to pretend. I think he's more misunderstood than anything."

"Misunderstood?" William said the word slowly, enunciating each syllable.

"Yes. The poor man, every single day he has to deal with this internal conflict. He's forced by the curse to kill his own kind, even though he once used to be just like them, and still remembers what it's like to taste the kill. And he's been alone for the last two hundred years. That has to take a toll. It's no wonder he's so gruff all the time."

"Oh Fates," William muttered.

Several hours later, Sydney jerked from a sound sleep by a loud commotion. She realized Gavin was not in the bed with her, but she could still sense his presence. Wherever he was, it wasn't far. She scrambled out of bed to see what was going on in the other room.

Gavin stood in the living room, with a b.l.o.o.d.y, limp man draped over his shoulder. His arm was around the man's waist, and he held the man's hand, or else the body would have slid to the floor in a boneless ma.s.s.

"Oh my G.o.d!" Sydney clapped her hands over her mouth and stared with wide eyes.

"Help me get him to a bed," Gavin instructed a nearby shifter. "And get her the h.e.l.l out of here." He turned away without looking at Sydney. But she saw it anyway: the cuts and bruises on his face, the blood on his clothes, the worried glint in his eye.

The next several hours were a flurry of activity. The beaten man was placed on the bed in the guest room. Hugo, who had seen even more battles than Gavin in his day, presided over tending to the man's injuries, while two other shifters hovered nearby and followed whatever instruction he belted out. A few left to go to the nearest Walmart to purchase additional blankets and pillows and toiletries, since the supplies were now depleted. Somebody else scrounged up a few sandwiches and bags of chips, and everyone hunkered down to wait.

Gavin paced the hall outside the guestroom, pausing every so often to receive an update from one of Hugo's a.s.sistants. Sydney, despite Gavin's demands, insisted on helping.

Quentin was also injured, although not nearly to the extent of the shifter Hugo was tending to, so Sydney took it upon herself to tend to his various cuts and claw marks and one vicious looking bite that had taken a small chunk out of the meat of his calf. When she tried to ask him what happened, he was close-lipped, saying Gavin needed to be the one to explain.

After Quentin was cleaned and bandaged to the best of her abilities, she ran back and forth between the bathroom and the bedroom, carrying bowls of fresh, soapy water, dumping old, dirty, b.l.o.o.d.y water out in the toilet, and returning yet again with fresh, clean water. Hugo muttered something about st.i.tches, so Sydney dug out William's sewing kit, and at Hugo's instruction, she soaked the thread and needle in alcohol before taking it in to him.

Gavin grabbed her arm when she tried to pa.s.s after giving Hugo the needles and thread. "You're exhausted."

She pushed a clump of hair out of her face. "So are you. And everybody else. You haven't even cleaned up yet. Go take a shower before those wounds get infected."

Gavin touched his face and winced. He'd forgotten about his own injuries. They were far less substantial than the other guy's.

"Come on," Sydney said with a sigh. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He found himself seated on the toilet seat in the master bathroom in William's bedroom, with Sydney standing over him, cleaning the cuts on his face with hydrogen peroxide and soapy water. The more she tended to him, the less it hurt, which was kind of nice, frankly.

"You heal quickly." She dabbed at a long gash on his temple.

"You heal me quickly," he replied. "You're my Ch-it's because we shared your blood."

She smiled and he knew she caught the correction. "Is that normal?"

Gavin shrugged one shoulder. "Not unheard of. I don't think it happens every time a shifter and Chala are mated, but I've heard of it occasionally throughout history."

"Take your shirt off."

He liked the way she sucked in a breath when he complied. Sleeping next to her night after night and resisting giving in to the temptation of making love to her was driving him to madness faster than Prim's d.a.m.n curse. It was nice to know she shared the attraction.

"Did-Did you do that to him?" she asked haltingly, while she cleansed a set of claw marks on his back.

"I a.s.sume you don't really believe I did, or else you wouldn't be locked in here alone with me right now."

He was right, of course, although he caught her look of relief in the mirror. Apparently, the woman needed to hear him speak such things out loud, instead of a.s.suming he cared or was responsible or whatever.

"What happened to him?"

"I'd rather not discuss it. I need to talk to William first."

He could tell she instantly suspected it had something to do with her. She wasn't stupid. He liked that about her. He also liked that she wasn't running away, going into hiding, simpering in a corner, waiting for everyone else to protect her. Even though he had every intention of protecting her and not allowing her to put herself in harm's way, he still liked that she wasn't afraid.

"If this concerns me, I have every right to know what-"

William pushed open the door, interrupting her in mid-rant.

"He's going to live," William said wearily. His gaze swept over Gavin's bare chest. Gavin was too d.a.m.ned exhausted to feel squeamish.

"Take a shower," William instructed brusquely. "We'll wait for you to debrief us." He turned and left again.

Sydney jumped a little when Gavin spoke. "Are you joining me? I could use some help scrubbing my back."

"The first time in almost a week you make an inappropriate suggestion and it has to be now?"

Gavin blew out a sigh. "I'm too tired to work at it right now, Sydney. I'm just going to apologize right now for anything I might say in the next couple of hours, because I'm bound to say something you won't like. It's too d.a.m.n hard to keep up the pretenses right now."

Sydney stared at him. "You've been pretending to be nice all week?"

Gavin scowled and unsnapped his jeans. "No. I've been trying not to p.i.s.s you off all week. Fa-Jesus, do you have to read into everything I say?"

Sydney stood rooted to the spot while he peeled off his jeans. He paused as he hooked his thumbs into his boxers. "Am I to take this as a yes to my offer?"

Sydney gave a little start and then shook her head. "No, no. Sorry. I'm just, uh, leaving. Uh. I'll be-uh, right." Face flaming, she hurried out of the room, closed the door and then leaned against it, breathing heavily.

He's trying not to p.i.s.s me off. It was, by far, the most romantic thing Gavin had ever said to her. And he used her name-again. Despite the gravity of the current situation, Sydney couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips as she strolled out of William's bedroom.

The smile disappeared a short time after Gavin, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a basic white T-shirt, entered the living room. His hair looked as if he'd simply rubbed it with a towel and his unshaven jaw neared full beard territory, and for a moment, Sydney forgot everything else and contemplated inviting him back to her bedroom right then and there. Only this time, there would be no sleep involved, at least not for a long while.

Those thoughts disappeared with the goofy smile when Gavin stabbed a finger in the air and demanded someone escort her back to her bedroom immediately. The entire room full of shifters clamored to do as he said. She wondered when they had all determined he was their boss, rather than their enemy, as she shouted obscenities at him while she was forcibly dragged down the hall.

He set two shifters to guarding her bedroom door, because he knew d.a.m.n well she would try to escape. He sent another one outside to stand guard at her window, and couldn't help the smug smile when he heard her screaming from the bedroom, indicating she had been thwarted in her escape efforts. Whatever she wanted to think, he knew his Chala well.

The story he told was grim, which was why he wanted to shield Sydney from the details. He had no illusions that she would not find out what was going on, but if he could keep the most gruesome details from reaching her ears, he would. She was a proud woman and determined to be independent, but the fact was, she hadn't grown up in their world, and the blood and gore would undoubtedly be too much for her near-humanlike sensibilities.

"They know about her existence," he said grimly. "They ambushed that kid in there while he was making his way here to do exactly what you all are doing-courting possibly the last Chala in the world. They tortured him until he told them why he was in town." He paused, let them absorb that bit of information.

"I figured they suspected her presence, after her blood was spilled the day she and I met. They can scent her, just like you all, but the difference is, Light Ones sense her as well. Obviously, you didn't smell her all the way from California." He waved at the shifter with bleached-blond hair and a perpetual tan.

"I thought, with so many of you here, it would actually mask her scent, if a Rakshasa got too close. I also figured they wouldn't get that close to begin with, since they like to hang out in urban environments, where it's easier to hide and there tend to be more humans in closer proximity. Easier prey. Less chance of getting caught." He sucked in a breath, let it out slowly.

"So now they know. And they will come after her. It's up to us to stop them." He stood in the entry between the kitchen and living room, his feet a shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed, his gaze boring into each shifter in turn. Some sat, some stood, but Gavin was still at least three inches taller than any other shifter in the room. Only William was taller, thanks to his red high heels.

"I'm with you." Jack leaped to his feet and stood in a poor imitation of a soldier at attention. "Just tell me what to do, sir."

Sir? Sir? Gavin looked around as every other seated shifter began to stand, all with determined expressions on their faces, all turning to him for guidance and leadership.

He hadn't meant to become their leader. He hadn't meant to do anything, really, except to ensure Sydney's safety. He wasn't a leader. He hadn't been a leader in over two hundred years, and the last time, he had been leading the other side-the very shifters who were now coming after Sydney. His life was full of one irony after another.

He lifted his hand in the cla.s.sic "stop" motion, and pointed at William. "Not me. The Fate is the one you need to ask. She's his responsibility. He needs to tell you what to do."

William lifted his perfectly manicured eyebrows. "She isn't my mate."

"She isn't anybody's mate," Gavin said in exasperation. "Why do you think you're still here?"

William shook his head and waved his arm in an arc, encompa.s.sing the entire room. "You are their leader, Gavin. This is your Fate. Guide them. Lead them."

The implication of his words was staggering. Gavin shot a hand out to steady himself against the wall, so he would not appear weak in front of his men. His men. His army, he realized, as he took his time scanning the motley group of shifters standing before him. Most of them were so rusty they might as well claim not to be able to fight at all. The rest had no more experience than the typical kid who got into a scuffle here and there at school.

"Fates d.a.m.n me," he muttered crossly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

He caught William's smug smile out of the corner of his eye as he declared that training started at 10:00 a.m. and that everyone had better be up and ready. He then strode down the hall to face his biggest challenge of the night.

"Get out!" Sydney shrieked when he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"No."

"Don't come near me," she said, her voice barely more than a growl, as he advanced toward the bed.

He ignored her and began stripping out of his clothes.