Half-Breed Read online

  Edginess seeped into my stomach, but I kept my voice steady. “What are you talking about? Did something happen while I was gone?” If he hadn't realized it already, I had run out of excuses.

  "Didn't you just hear me? Or has that lump on the back of your skull deadened too many brain cells? You lied to me about North Carolina. You come back here all fucked up. Your crossbow is missing. You polish and clean any evidence of your trip. You beat up the pack doctor and almost put Stephan in an early grave.” His hand lashed out at me, grabbing my wrist. “What the hell is going on?” he seethed. “I've tried being patient and it isn't working anymore."

  I glared at the hand holding mine. He took it as a hint and let go. I kept my voice calm, but I couldn't contain the chill. “There was a family emergency. I took care of it and that's all you need to know. You couldn't help even if you wanted to."

  His eyes narrowed, tone matching mine. “Then if the emergency is over, maybe you can enlighten me."

  "It's none of your damn business. How's that for enlightenment?” I got up and went for the door.

  Matt jumped off the bed and blocked my path. “That's not good enough!"

  He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me backwards towards the bed, his thumb digging my stitches in the process. I screamed in pain and slapped his hands away from me.

  The son of a bitch brought physical violence in my house. He promised me it would never happen again, that he would never replay our first-time meeting.

  Pissed, I began swinging closed fists at him. Matt's unbelievable reflexes caught both my hands. His face became emotionless. I pulled and yanked to get away from him, but his grip remained firm as I expended my energy. That didn't take long.

  Who cares? I hated him for hurting me and breaking into my personal space when I didn't invite him. Who the hell did he think I was? That same woman he had manhandled in Boston more than four years ago? I wanted to hit him so bad that it made my blood sizzle. Pain be damned.

  Not letting go, Matt shoved me backwards onto the bed and pinned my hands above my head. Sore shoulder muscles flexed, forcing a shriek from my lungs. Skin stretched underneath my shirt. Silk threads plucked away from the edges of my wound. When the blood seeped into the air, the struggling stopped and we stared at each other.

  Matt let go and flew backwards off the bed in one smooth motion, standing with his back against the dresser. Worry marred his dark eyes.

  Ask me if I gave a damn. His feelings could send him straight to hell for all I cared. Instead of coming back to this, maybe I should have taken Dane or Graham up on their offers of hiding out for a few more days.

  Using the utmost care, I cradled my elbow, pulling it into my side and rolling up into a sitting position. There I sat, holding my tender arm, and disgusted at the man I called my husband. Simply looking at him, I thought about lashing out again. Matt made no attempt to stop me when I stood, though his eyes following my every move. I went to the door and opened it.

  "It had to do with the contract, didn't it?” he asked in a low voice.

  That was enough to keep me from leaving; however, I refused to look back. “Yes. And all you need to know is that I took care of it."

  I stalked out of the room, slamming the door hard enough to crack the wood along the edges. Going to North Carolina to save his sorry ass was a waste of time. I should have let him taken his chances with a bounty hunter.

  Chapter 21

  Matt hadn't spoken to me for days. We spent a good amount of time avoiding each other in our own home because we were both too stubborn to go to a hotel or stay with a friend. Our mornings started off by waking up in separate bedrooms and our nights ended with bathing in separate baths before turning in. Instead of going to work, he worked from home behind the closed door of the study while I telecommuted from the dining room. Each of us had our own territory and we went out of our way to make sure we didn't venture far from it. Spending the next few days in a sling made working on the computer incredibly uncomfortable. My real estate classes fell to the back burner because I had to catch up on three projects that were strangling me with their deadlines. At night, Matt and I had dinner in the stone-cold silence of the dining room and the last one to finish, usually me, got stuck with cleanup. Things got so bad that I worked during dinner. We weren't talking, so it made sense to do something to keep my mind occupied. Matt would either retire to the couch or the guest room in those instances. Lucky me; I got to sleep in the master bedroom ... alone.

  Monday morning came and so did a tap on the bedroom door. It whined open, Matt's head filling in the crack before stepping inside. I feigned sleep. The plush carpet muted his footfalls as he crept toward the walk-in closet. Hangers scrapped lightly across the rod and shoe boxes shuffled on the floor. When he stepped out, he had a pressed, dark gray suit, matching tie, white shirt, and polished black shoes in his hands. I turned over and stared at him.

  He froze and made eye contact. “You're supposed to be wearing your sling."

  "I can't sleep in it.” Throwing back the covers, I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Where are you going all dressed up?"

  "I have a court date with one of my clients. Then I'm meeting Stephan for lunch to talk about a few things.” He marched to the dresser and dug out a pair of socks and underwear from his drawer. “Are you going to use the bathroom?"

  "No."

  He walked across the floor and closed the door.

  Shaking my head, I clenched my teeth as though that would hold the tears at bay. I had cried enough over this and I refused to cry anymore.

  Nevertheless, his cold demeanor dug into my chest more than that knife had. I deserved it because I kept secrets from him, but I didn't deserve his manhandling to get them out of me. Maybe I ruined our chances of joining the pack, but that gave him no right to hurt me the way he did. He knew about my shoulder.

  Okay, some of my argument sounded more like a pity-me party, but still, I had a right to be mad at him. That jerk hurt me enough to dredge up memories I had left in the past. I hated him for that.

  When the shower came on, I crept to the bathroom and placed my hand on the closed door. I wanted to go inside and rub my fingers across his wet skin, making sure I lathered every sinew on his toned body. My mouth watered at the thought of kissing his hairless chest and working my way up to his mouth. But what I really wanted was his arms around my waist and his cock snuggled inside me. I missed him when I was away, but I missed him more since we'd been home. Saddened, I tore myself away from the door and darted out of the bedroom.

  * * * *

  Sauntering from the kitchen, I glanced at the slow running query on my computer screen and noticed the clock in the lower right hand corner. Twenty after twelve. Lunchtime. Hours slipped by like seconds as I feverishly worked at the dining room table.

  The doorbell rang.

  Snorting to myself, I headed to the hall closet and found my equipment bag. With everything going on, I wasn't about to take any chances that some idiot thought the bounty still existed on my husband. Mounting an arrow in the cradle, I pulled the crossbow up to my healing shoulder and eased to the front door.

  Peeking through the frosted glass on the side, I noticed a huge African-American man standing on my doorstep. When I say huge, I meant linebacker-sized with noticeable muscle tone filling out his clothes, and menacing without all the fuss. His chocolate skin looked smooth and perfect in every way and the bland facial expression that accompanied his dark eyes said he came on business. Well, the pressed slacks, high-collar sweater, and black leather jacket said the same thing too, but that wasn't what got my attention. I put my face to the crevice and inhaled his scent. Just as I thought. Werewolf.

  "What do you want?” I shouted loud enough so that he could hear me on the other side.

  "I need to speak to you, Ms. York,” he said.

  Oh my g ... His deep, sultry voice blew my mind. I've always been a sucker for men with dimples but a deep, sensual voice ranked a close second. He could hav
e done an Isaac Hayes voiceover with that tone.

  "Who are you?” I pressed.

  "Vaughn. May I come in?"

  "It depends on your intentions. I don't know you, Vaughn, and if I have to, I will kill you."

  "And I don't doubt that.” He placed an oatmeal-colored card up to the clear part of the frosted window.

  Black and gold lettering with ivy trim around the edges, it was the same style as Stephan's business card. It read: Vaughn Du Bois, Security Specialist. The spa needed a security chief? Perhaps Stephan ran out of jobs for pack members and resorted to inventing them.

  "You still haven't told me what you want,” I reiterated.

  I didn't want this man in my house. His whole demeanor had me on edge and that had nothing to do with him being a tall, black man standing on a porch in a predominantly white neighborhood. If Kristen Stancil saw him, she'd talk. Giddy housewives would want answers or they'd brainstorm gossip on their own. Stories could range from my having an affair to him being one of Matt's unsavory clients.

  "If you would open the door,” he said, “I'll explain."

  "And if I refuse?"

  "Would you feel more comfortable having this discussion when your husband comes home? Better yet, how about in front of my Alpha?"

  He had me there. Although I didn't plan on telling him anything about the Hunting Club, whatever spewed from my mouth, I'd rather it not be in the company of Matt or anyone else for that matter.

  I unlocked the door and opened it enough to let him know he had to do the rest himself. Stepping back, I raised the crossbow two-thirds of the way up and kept my eyes trained on the door. Slowly, it opened, and Vaughn stepped inside. His eyes focused on the tip of my arrow before meeting mine. I couldn't say what he saw in them, but for his sake, I hoped he knew that I meant business. He continued into the foyer and closed the door.

  "Stay right there,” I said, stepping backwards into the living room until I bumped into the sofa table. Reaching blindly behind me, I picked up the cordless phone and tossed it over to him. “Call Stephan. You're not coming any farther into my house unless you have someone who can vouch for you."

  A smirk twisted his lips. He punched the numbers on the keypad. The seconds of silence felt like minutes before someone picked up. When he started describing the situation, my heightened hearing caught pieces of Stephan's voice. Leaning back, I hit the speaker button on the phone base. Stephan's voice came in loud and clear.

  "...she's like a little Amazon with that crossbow,” he said, “so I'd be careful if I were you."

  "Who are you to call me names?” I asked. My cold-blooded stare crumpled as heat flushed into my cheeks. I fought the blush, but Vaughn half-smiled anyway. So much for being a ruthless killer.

  "I hate speaker phones,” Stephan muttered. “Vaughn wanted to know if he could ask you some questions about the person that put the contract on Matt. I asked him to hold off on the questioning until you felt better."

  "Who's this information getting back to?"

  "It's between the two of you if that's the way you want it. But why all the secrets?"

  I put the crossbow down and turned off the speaker. Frustrated, I waved Vaughn closer and took the phone from him. “Stephan, this has nothing to do with the pack. It's over. Why can't you just leave it at that?"

  "If you had told us your intentions in the first place, we'd understand. But you chose to take matters into your own hands. How long did you think it would take before we found out about the contract? Why do you think I told Matt to ask you along on the Miami trip? You guys may not be pack yet, but we wanted to keep you safe nonetheless."

  "So what's wrong with me doing the same for my husband? In case you haven't noticed, I've got more invested in him than I do in your pack. If I have to gut the entire human population to keep the man I love safe, then so be it.” I paused to gnaw my bottom lip. They want to know what made me tick. Fine. “Did it ever occur to you that his joining your pack means more to me than anything? You didn't have to live with him for four years, knowing how much he missed the few friends he had in the Boston Pack. They wanted to stand up to Parry, but Matt said no. My husband didn't want them tortured in some basement for days on end or having to spend their lives on the run like us. Every time Matt thinks back on the good old days, I see and hear his loneliness. Worse than that, I feel it. I'll never measure up to what you guys mean to him. Maybe he doesn't regret it, but I see how much he misses being around his own kind. You try living with something like that, and then tell me how much you'd risk for someone you love. He chose me over his family. Taking a little backlash is a small price to pay and I'd damn well do it again if I had to."

  Silence stung my ear. Stephan said nothing for the longest time. Maybe he needed a moment to soak up what I said and put it into perspective. Either that or he was giving me some time to recollect my thoughts.

  Vaughn walked passed me heading toward the kitchen. I turned my back on him. No one would see me cry if I could help it. I didn't want anyone's pity; I wanted my husband back.

  "What would you do if you were in our shoes?” Stephan continued. “We've been passing as human for years because we don't bring controversy home. When you go off to silence the opposition and don't even let your husband in on the big secret, it sends up a big-ass red flag. We don't want trouble inside our borders. So tell me ... what would you do in our shoes?"

  A wry laugh bubbled up and a tear rolled down my cheek. “You know what? I don't give a damn what you want to do. My husband hasn't spoken to me in days and I've created a rift in this house that would put the parting of the Red Sea to shame. I miss my husband even when he's sitting across from me at the dinner table. So whatever you have in mind couldn't possibly stack up to the torture I've been going through."

  He paused again. “Are you crying?"

  "Go to hell!” Tearing the phone away from my ear, I almost slammed it down when he shouted over the earpiece.

  "I'm not making fun of you.” He chuckled a tad while trying to regain his composure. “I don't know what kind of secrets you have, and personally I don't want to know. I like you guys and don't want to see anything bad happen to either of you."

  "You can take your sympathy and stick—"

  "Trust me, Lex. Drop the tough girl act. Right now, you need all the sympathy you can get. No one blames you for wanting to protect your mate. What we do blame you for is taking matters into your own hands. If you're going to be a part of this pack, then you have to learn to trust us. That's how the pack system works. Your problems are our problems. So get rid of the mindset that you guys are on your own. There's a whole pack that's willing to back you."

  "We're not pack."

  "You can be. Just talk to Vaughn. He's not out to hurt you or anything. It's his job to sniff out trouble before it poses a threat."

  I half-smiled. “So he's not only spa security, but pack security too."

  "Something like that. Just promise me you won't worry and that you'll take care of that shoulder."

  He hung up.

  A cup of piping hot tea came over my shoulder. My eyes cut to Vaughn as I turned and gazed at him towering over me. Six-three, six-four? His visage remained expressionless. Taking the cup, I noticed he had his own tea with the string and label hanging over the edge. He seemed more like a coffee man, but to each his own. Vaughn sauntered to the breakfast counter and sat on one of the bar stools. I followed and placed my cup on the counter.

  "If I knew you'd get all drama-queen like that, I would have asked Isabella to tag along."

  My eyebrow arched. “Listening in on my phone call?"

  "It's my ear for knowledge that got me this job. Speaking of jobs, your husband is a smart man. He really knows his stuff when it comes down to loopholes in the law. It saved us a lot of time and money in Miami."

  "Who's Isabella?” I dropped a few teaspoons of sugar in my tea.

  "You would have met her the other night, had you been right in the head. Both she and Set
h were here when you and your husband had the battle royal in the bedroom upstairs. She's our Alpha Female.” He sipped his tea again.

  "You're straight and to the point, aren't you?"

  "Aren't you?"

  I let it go, girl. “So what do you want?"

  Vaughn blew ripples across the surface of his tea. “What do you know about the movieinfo website?"

  From his question I could tell he already had his mind made up, so it didn't make sense to hide anything. But that didn't give me enough reason to tell him everything, either. “It's how information passes among packs."

  "'Packs’ being the operative word. For a person who claims to have never had any pack associations, you knew about the hit on your husband. Only packs have access to that site and that's the only place where you could have gotten the information."

  "I'm a computer geek and it's a website. But I'll bet that's not the only thing you're here for, is it?” Please God, let him think I was a hacker. I don't do slow torture.

  Vaughn half-smiled. “I'll be blunt. You know a lot more than you're telling. I also have a feeling that Matt knows nothing about your double life and you're trying to protect him from it. Am I warm?"

  "How do you know all that?” Stall. Whatever you do, stall him.

  "Because you're too good with that crossbow and you have the trained look of a killer in your eyes. That comes from wolves who've seen a lot of violence in their time."

  This conversation had turned in a direction where I didn't want to go. Placing my hands on the counter I said, “Let's get something straight, killer to killer. This is my house. I'll be damned before I let you or anyone else push me around in it. If your pack can't handle that, then give us our walking papers. But I won't stand here and be intimidated on my own turf. Now, I'm telling you guys for the last time ... Drop it. I took care of business and that's all you need to know. If that's not good enough, then too damn bad. I've got a marriage to salvage. Your quest for knowledge takes a back seat.” I knew I had broken a few pack protocols, but I needed to lay down a few of my own.