It was impossible to think when a keyed-up, gorgeous male had you at his disposal and knew how to use his clever fingers, naughty mouth and wicked tongue to his advantage.
Diskant turned from the sounds of running water when a knock came from the door. He walked to the doorway, peered into the bathroom and watched as Ava slipped into the steaming tub and moaned in pleasure. She was undoubtedly sore, her muscles acclimating to the newfound flexibility and strength that he’d put to the test just minutes before. She’d taken to their bond in a way that excited him all over again, making his cock stir.
“Down, boy,” he scolded and adjusted himself to ease the ache, forcing his mind elsewhere. This wasn’t the time to behave like a horny teenager. Soon he’d have to bring Ava fully into the pack, meaning he needed to reserve strength to make certain she wasn’t frightened, overwhelmed or scared by the experience. Considering all the noise he heard coming from the basement, he also knew that soon he’d be forced to face the men the pack had brought back for answers.
The knock came again, louder this time, and he strode across the room. He’d expected someone to bring a pizza as soon as they arrived from the local parlor, so when he didn’t detect the mouthwatering scent of meat, cheese and tomato sauce he was aware that something was up.
Nathan’s haggard face greeted him when he opened the door. Instead of a pizza box he was carrying a large manila envelope. “Ava’s brother just dropped this off.” He held it out and Diskant took the thick parcel, studying it. “I’d better get back. The doc will be here soon and Trey is on the warpath. It’s taking all I have to keep him calm, and the pack is restless. I’ll come back when the food gets here.”
Diskant continued staring at the envelope as Nathan started back down the stairs. He closed the door, scrutinizing the package. There were no markings on the paper but the contents were heavy and the seal along the back had been broken. He flipped it over and lifted the small metal tabs. As he opened the flap at the top, he saw a file was inside.
“Diskant?”
He took a deep breath before he walked toward the bathroom. When he stepped inside he felt what was becoming a familiar flood of warmth in his mind, a soothing caress that occurred when Ava merged completely with him.
“From Thomas?” she asked, sitting upright.
Nodding, he strode over and placed the package in her hands. She turned onto her side, balancing the envelope on the nearby stool stacked with fresh towels. As she pulled the file out a note drifted to the floor. He kneeled at the side of the tub to retrieve it and handed it to her. There was a hesitation and he understood that it came from an inner knowing that her brother had somehow managed to do something wrong again.
Taking a deep breath, she placed the file and envelope on the towels, took the note and opened it. Her eyes skimmed the paper as she read the words aloud.
“Ava. This parcel arrives to you courtesy of Craig Newlander. It explains a lot. In fact, you could say it paints things in an entirely new light. He also included another package, one that he insisted I give to you personally. He warned me of the danger of deviating from his instructions but I simply couldn’t help myself. When I discovered what he planned to give you, I decided to keep it for myself. Consider it a parting gift, my way of being the protective brother by keeping you out of harm’s way. I’m sure you didn’t expect anything less. Thomas.”
Diskant felt her anger, her contempt.
Thomas was right, she didn’t expect anything less.
She folded the note, placed it atop the towels and lifted the file. For several agonizing seconds, she simply stared at the folder. Then she flipped it open.
“My god.” Her fingers trembled as she gazed at the page and started sorting through the pictures that were stapled along the top.
He shifted around the tub until he could see inside. Although he’d never met them, he knew the Polaroids were of her parents. Ava looked like her mother—blonde, petite and delicate. Her father was the opposite—tall, broad and dark. Some of the images were of them laughing as they strolled along the street in broad daylight. Others were of them at night, obviously flying under the radar as both wore hats, dark clothing and somber expressions.
She went through the pages slowly, one by one, digesting the information with Diskant privy to her thoughts and emotions. The Villati knew that Harold Brisbane and Vivian Lockhart were a telepathic couple who met during college and eventually married. There was nothing significant or out of the ordinary. Then Ava turned to a page with an image of her brother. Directly below his picture and date of birth was a small typed statement.
Adopted son, Thomas Harold Brisbane.
“It explains a lot. In fact, you could say it paints things in an entirely new light,” she repeated Thomas’ earlier words. “Jesus, Diskant. How could they have kept something like this from us?”
He wrapped a hand around her neck and stroked the frantic hammering of her pulse with his thumb. “I don’t know. Keep reading.”
She read through the information about Thomas, including the records of his multiple altercations with the law and his dalliances with notable crime figures in the city. He’d gotten around after his gambling addiction had taken hold and he’d begun taking higher risks. The information ended with his trading off her family locket to the Villati in exchange for a sizable two hundred and fifty thousand dollar payment. There wasn’t anything about his birth parents, aside from a birth certificate that listed his mother as Helena Terrance, with no father mentioned.
The next page had an image of Ava at Club Liminality stapled to the top. She was behind the bar, hard at work. She didn’t get angry about the information accumulated until she reached her personal life. Her beautiful lips pursed and a crease appeared between her brows. She skimmed over it, noting it stated she shared the same psychic abilities as her parents and that she’d managed to keep her talent under wraps. A new, fresh portion was typed along the bottom, indicating she was seen leaving her place of employment with Diskant Black.
“They have spies at the club,” she muttered. “Figures.”
Turning the page, she went still. Clippings of her parents’ wreck were neatly pieced together. There was also the obituary and a notice of the auction to sell off some of their holdings. Below that was a wrinkled note with Thomas’ handwriting indicating a time and place to exchange the locket he’d acquired for the agreed-upon amount of cash.
She ran her fingers across the paper. “Sneaky bastard.”
Diskant reached past her to turn to the next page. This one had some handwritten notes and a sketch of a sword with a stone in the center of the pommel. More pictures followed, with the same stone featured, a stone that his mate recognized.
The Brisbane locket.
She removed the note attached to the photo, the wax seal with the symbol of the Villati already broken, and handed him the file. She started reading the moment she could see the words, whispering each sentence.
The locket wasn’t a locket at all but something called a zephyr. With it her telepathy would be enhanced significantly, to the point that she could possibly read people from miles away. Unfortunately, the Villati weren’t the only ones who knew about it and as such, keeping it placed the holder in a substantial amount of danger. That was why Craig had given the package to Thomas and had it delivered to her. He still wanted to meet to discuss the details and ended the missive by imploring her to contact him as soon as possible.
“Damn it, Thomas.” She closed the note. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
In that moment Diskant realized she loved her brother, no matter how much of a consummate fuckup he was. In her mind the good memories—of them as children, teenagers and college-age students—suffocated the bad, taking her back to a time when he didn’t gamble and was actually a decent man.