"Why, Storme?" he asked softly.
"Because they sent my father and my brother to hell before I was ready to let them go. My father and brother broke the laws of nature, and the laws of decency, in what they helped the Council to do. And then they broke my heart when they showed their loyalty to their work over their loyalty to me. I hated them for it, I hated the Breeds for it, and I hate that fucking Council so bad I'd kill every one of those bastards if I could. So the Breeds can count themselves lucky. At least I don't wish I could murder them to their faces. Now, excuse me, but I don't need your help any longer. You can leave now."
She pushed her back beneath the table and ignored him as though he wasn't there, while she went back to work on reassembling the electronics she had taken apart.
At least, she appeared to ignore him; what he sensed was far different. He could feel her pain, tears unshed and a sudden desperation that tore at his chest.
Storme was fighting more than the past or her emotions. She was fighting the desertion of her father and brother, and the suspicion that they had loved the Breeds far more than they had loved her.
Unfortunately, Styx agreed with her.
CHAPTER 13
Styx retreated, hoping that the very fact of the battle waging inside her now boded well for her realization that the Breeds weren't at fault for what she'd lost, but rather her father and brother were.
Moving to the kitchen, he pulled coffee beans from the cabinet along with an old-fashioned hand grinder and dark chocolate. He had a system he liked for coffee. The fresh beans hand ground with the dark chocolate.
He was a chocolate fanatic, he admitted to that. The first time he had tasted chocolate was after the Breed rescues. Despite the fact that his training had been easier than most Breeds', still, chocolate had been something denied him until he had the choice to indulge in it after the rescue.
Storme reminded him of his favorite chocolate, he thought with a brief grin. A little sharp, with all the sweetness hid beneath that first sharp bite.
"Now I can watch television." Satisfaction filled her tone as she entered the kitchen. "And that's a hell of an audio system."
Her voice was deliberately light; he could feel it, sense it. She was trying to ignore the fact that she had admitted to hating the Breeds, that she had admitted, in effect, to hating him.
The softened amusement of moments before had dissipated.
Turning back to the coffeemaker, he poured the coffee into cups. As she sat down at the old-fashioned country kitchen table, he set the cup in front of her then retreated back to the cabinets to sip his own.
He could show her a thing or two about how she didn't hate him, how she didn't hate Breeds period. He could show her, force her to acknowledge that at least where he was concerned, what she felt was the furthest thing possible from hatred.
She lifted the cup to her lips, and his dick tightened impossibly further.
When he didn't comment, she glanced back at him and breathed in deeply, with a slow, subtle movement.
She had obviously said what she had earlier without truly considering the implications of her words.
"The system should be working properly now," she stated. "I'm certain you'll want to ensure that the firewall is working within standards."
"I'll be sure to do that," he assured her.
He would be replacing the firewall soon if this situation didn't change. If the mating heat didn't slip into place soon. If he didn't win his mate's heart.
She sipped at the coffee again before replacing the cup on the table, her fingers playing absently with the handle as she stared into the cup's depths.
"I don't hate you," she finally said softly, her voice torn with confusion and pain. "I didn't mean that as it came out."
"Of course you did," he retorted lightly. "What you said, you said in anger, and in self-defense. You've likely never been more truthful."
"Don't put words or feelings into my mouth." She glared back at him as her lips tightened angrily. "Fine, I feel animosity, and a hell of a lot of anger where the Breeds are concerned. If Dad and James hadn't been so in love with their research and what they were creating, then they wouldn't have died and I wouldn't have been forced to run to live."
The pain in her voice struck at his heart, clenching his chest and his emotions. The pressure she had lived under for the past ten years had been incredible, and he didn't blame her for being angry. But the anger was misdirected.
"You wouldn't have been forced to run in order to live if you had come to us when you first escaped Omega," he informed her before taking another sip of the coffee and setting the cup aside.
He could feel the confrontation coming like a tingle of electricity over his flesh. Anger was the product of denied hunger, of cross-purposes and emotions without outlet. And if anyone needed to let emotions out, then it was Storme. She was like her name, raging inside, crashing like thunder in the heavens as the past and the present came in conflict with what she wanted, needed and denied herself for the future.
"Yeah, I really wanted to face a Breed then." The hard, bitter smile that crossed her face had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the pain raging inside her. "I was fourteen, Styx ..."
"And you're twenty-four now," he reminded her caustically. "Tell me, Storme, have you managed to grow up in anything but body?"
Storme rose slowly from the chair, feeling a shudder of intense emotion tear through her as she fought to hold back a sudden, wrenching sob.
His expression was stoic, his blue eyes almost darker, brighter.
"What do you want me to say?" she demanded, almost wincing at the harsh sound of her own voice. "What do you want from me, Styx?"
"Your safety," he snarled back at her, his canines flashing as his lips pulled back from his teeth. "I want that fucking data chip."
"For my safety?" Her words were suffused with bitter mockery. "And of course your motives are completely altruistic, aren't they, Styx? It has nothing to do with the fact that you fucked me to attain that damned chip, does it? That you and Jonas Wyatt would willingly throw me to the Council if it achieved your ends?"
Her pain swirled around him then.
"Is this what you think?" The growl that vibrated in his chest was deeper, harsher than he'd expected, as incredulity flared inside him. "You believe I took you to my bed to get that damned chip? That I would betray you in such a manner if I don't get it?"
"What else should I think? Orders to kill me if I escape and can't be recovered before the Council gets to me?" she sneered back at him. "I guess those orders come from love? From an overwhelming desire for me alone? Don't bother lying to me because I know better."
"And how do you know better?" This was it. Damn her, she was pushing him past reason, and holding back from her wasn't easy to begin with. The need to have her, to possess her, to imprint upon her body, her sensuality, the dominant possessiveness raging inside him was becoming quickly overwhelming. "Tell me, Storme, if the only reason I fucked you was for that chip, do you truly believe that's why I kept fucking you?"
"Why else?" Her arms opened wide in an indication of resignation. "Do you have the chip? If you kill me, you can't locate it. What other recourse is left but to fuck me and attempt to convince me there's some emotion involved. Tell me, Styx, do you love me?" she sneered mockingly.
Storme could feel the anger surging through her now; the aching, torn emotions that ripped through her were harder to define, but the anger was clearly recognizable.
As she stared back at him, seeing the seeming sincerity in his gaze, the urge for violence rose inside her like a dark, vicious cloud.
Fists clenched, she swung away from him, turned and tried to race from the kitchen, from the man, the Breed. She'd spent the past week hiding, running, avoiding this Breed that made her feel emotions and sensations she didn't want to feel.