“Who the fuck is Thomas?”
That got her attention.
She turned and focused on Diskant. His gold irises were like liquid metal, shining so brightly she couldn’t help the instinctive reaction to place a hand to her throat and take a cautionary step back. He’d sworn that shifters wouldn’t hurt their mates—if, in fact, that was what she was to him—but considering the way he looked right now, primed and ready to kill, that fact didn’t reassure her much.
Swallowing convulsively, she squared her shoulders, managed to summon some courage and narrowed her eyes in turn. “Don’t be a Neanderthal. Thomas is my brother.”
The tension in the room eased as the glow in his eyes faded and the harsh lines around his lips and eyes receded. He started walking toward her and it took every ounce of pride and determination not to shy away when he reached out. His fingers were gentle on her elbows, palms barely cupping her forearms.
When he spoke, his voice was strained. “I apologize. I’m still struggling for control when it comes to you, and when you mentioned another male… You’re going to have to be patient with me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not one to share.” His right hand traveled up her arm, coming to a stop as he draped his hand possessively around her nape and twined his fingers in the damp strands of hair. “Where are you supposed to meet him?”
Licking her suddenly parched lips, she whispered, “Maybelle’s Diner.”
“The Cajun place in Queens?” She nodded and he pulled her forward, bent at the waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let me finish getting dressed and we’ll go. We can make it if we take the bike.”
“But—” She started to argue and he placed a firm finger against her lips.
“No buts. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not until we are fully bonded. You might as well get used to the idea of having me around.”
Another “but” lingered on the tip of her tongue, along with a multitude of questions, but she chose to nod instead. Now wasn’t the time to discuss their relationship or delve into the complexities of what he referred to as bonding. Her parents’ cabin was the last thing she had left from her childhood and there was no way in hell she was letting that slip away. Thomas would hate the fact that she’d brought someone along for the meeting but he’d just have to get over it.
Diskant released her and turned, muscles in his shoulders and waist flexing seamlessly as he strode to the closet. Tearing her eyes away before she gave in to the temptation to follow, she glanced at her reflection in the large mirror hanging above the dresser and grimaced.
Her swollen lips, whisker-burned chin and neck and unruly appearance screamed, “I just had the best sex of my life.”
Not only would Thomas know she’d found a new man, so would the rest of the world.
So much for keeping her personal life personal.
Chapter Eight
“I have news you want to hear.”
Craig Newlander shifted his weight in the plush leather chair as he leaned forward, lifted the receiver and took the call off speaker. He placed the phone against his ear and cleared his throat.
“I’m listening.”
The man on the other end of the line spoke in a low but clear voice. “Diskant Black was seen leaving Club Liminality with Ava Brisbane last night.”
“Ava?” he questioned. “Are you certain?”
“My sources aren’t paid to lie.”
“Did she leave with him willingly?”
“Let’s just say she didn’t put up much of a fight.”
Now this was news he could put to good use. “Where is she now?”
“Under lockdown at his place.”
“Keep me informed.”
“You got it.”
The line went dead and Craig placed the receiver back into the cradle.
So Ava was sharing her bed with a shifter, was she? It was a bit of a shock, considering how determined she seemed to stay away from all things supernatural—including those more like her than she wanted to know about—but it was also extremely serendipitous in light of recent events, which had revealed her importance and talent in an entirely new light. Months of trying to break down her defenses had proven futile, and the only way they’d gained her interest was by sharing information and functioning under the pretense of expanding her limited horizons.
Could it be possible? Could she be mated to a shifter?
Considering her heritage, he wasn’t surprised. Though undeniably human, she was anything but ordinary. Now, if bonded to something as powerful as shifter—especially one such as Diskant Black—her telepathy would only grow stronger as a consequence. It was a good thing, since she was about to face a danger that wouldn’t go away.
He shook his head and considered all the angles. Hopefully Diskant wasn’t a random bed partner due to Ava’s lack of companionship in recent months. He was well aware of her boring and unchanging routine, and the separation from that louse Martin Feldman had to have been a devastating blow. Not that he was upset about that. If not for Martin’s absence in her life Craig’s people never would have been given the opportunity to approach her with her guard down.
Reaching for the drawer to his right, he grasped the knob and pulled it open. Nestled just inside was the jewelry box containing Ava’s birthright—the Brisbane locket. He removed the black velveteen box and sank back in the leather chair.
With this, her telepathy would be quadrupled. She could listen to the thoughts of anyone she focused on, able to hear anything and everything they were thinking, even from miles away. If she agreed to join the ranks of the Villati, the knowledge—and protection—she could procure for their studies would prove invaluable. Lifting the lid, he peered down at the rounded pendant with an intricate design engraved into the center. The platinum flashed as he grasped the chain, lifted the necklace into the air and shifted his wrist to study the stone set in the back of the locket, the matching chain sparkling in the dim lighting.
Ava assumed the locket was nothing more than a trinket, something to be handed down following her parents’ deaths. When he’d first obtained the jewelry he’d assumed as much as well. Now that he knew better he was hesitant to keep her in the dark about the true power of the keepsake, especially without being alerted to the danger that loomed ahead. In light of recent happenings, dangling something this powerful in her face, along with a warning, might be enough to sway her. This wasn’t about cataloging information so much as it was protecting those who worked to keep a historical record of preternatural entities.
As if that wasn’t enough, the information garnered by his staff indicated Shepherds had finally made their way to the city. When they hit a place with a sizable shifter population the goal was simple—eradication.
Rocking back and forth in his chair, he weighed his options.
Right now the locket was a liability and, as it was in his keeping, placed him in danger. Since Ava made it clear she wouldn’t meet with him or his people again following the rendezvous that never happened—a direct consequence of the heirloom that now marked her—it seemed like the possibility of engaging her interest was out of his grasp. Perhaps he could up the ante, and in doing so protect her while enlisting her services and salvaging his own ass. Either way, the locket had to go. No matter the consequence. The sooner he got the thing away from him the better. Time was no longer on his side.
After returning the box and closing the drawer, he drummed his fingers atop the desk, all but certain of his decision. If he couldn’t return the relic to its rightful owner, he’d have to entrust someone else to do it for him, even if it meant taking an enormous risk. The time for reflection was over. Things were about to get messy, for shifter and Villati alike.