Cecy Robson - Cursed By Destiny

Misha’s vamps exchanged glances, appearing afraid to reveal the identity of the caller. Maria hurried back with a sandwich bag stuffed with ice. God knew a vamp could haul serious ass when motivated by her master. Her phone rang next. She hurled the packet of ice at my face. I caught it and almost launched it back at her until I saw her gaping at her phone. She swallowed hard and raised her chin. “It’s one of de mongrels from de pack.”

My body stiffened. Okay. Which one?

“Answer it,” Misha snapped.

The moment Maria touched the screen a thunderous growl erupted on the other end of the line. “Put. Celia. On. Now! ”

Koda. My oh so gentle and loving brother-in-law. I reached for the phone and hissed at Maria when she wouldn’t hand it to me. “Give me the damn phone!” Following a nod from Misha, she threw it at me with as much love as she had the ice pack. “Koda, it’s me.”

His growls silenced. “Are you hurt? We know about the explosion.”

Koda was the techno-savvy guy. Either he’d hacked into Misha’s security cameras or he’d put someone on watch near the compound. It shouldn’t have shocked me, but that didn’t mean I liked it. “I’m fine.” I took in the wreckage. The engine collapsed with a loud bang. “Nothing to worry about.”

Koda paused, obviously having heard the engine’s last hurrah. “There was witch fire, Celia.”

“So I’m told. Don’t fret. The vampires are looking into it.”

Another rumble erupted. This time it wasn’t Koda. I froze when I recognized it as Aric’s growl. He was there, in the room with Koda. “I’m fine,” I repeated once more, my voice shaking from surprise. Aric didn’t sound satisfied. He hated me living with Misha. But he’d made a choice, and so had I.

Another sharp snarl cut through the phone. I closed my eyes and pictured his light brown eyes, the sexy five o’clock shadow that covered his strong jaw, and the grin that never failed to stop my heart. My raspy voice softened, just as it always had in his presence. “I scraped my knee, but it’s nothing. Please don’t worry, wolf.”

I no longer spoke to Koda, but rather Aric. His protests abruptly stopped. In the quiet that followed, I could hear him taking deep, controlled breaths. “Okay,” Aric answered in his deep timbre. “Be safe.” A door opened and closed in the background, letting me know he was gone.

Koda’s voice brought me back to the moment. “Do you need us to come for you?”

“No . . . thank you. I’ll see you at the house tomorrow.”

When I disconnected, all eyes were on me. And, go figure, no one seemed thrilled. One by one, Misha’s vampires dispersed. I wrapped my arms around myself. Now that the witch fire had vanished, the air grew cold and dense. “Come,” Misha finally said. “Dinner awaits.”

Misha slipped his arm back around my shoulders and led me to the house. A team of vamps appeared with saws, sledgehammers, and dirty looks. My body trembled. But the vampires weren’t the cause of my discomfort. Moving into Château de Misha had never been about becoming chummy with creatures so self-absorbed I had to work not to smack them. In fact, I was almost used to their snide and catty remarks. What I wasn’t used to were attempts on my life, even though I’d experienced my share since being “outed” to the mystical community. I also wasn’t used to hearing Aric’s voice anymore. All it had taken was his familiar deep tone to tug on my heartstrings and send me into a state of misery.

The scent of roasting duck filled my nose. I squinted a little as my eyes adjusted to the brightly lit European-inspired kitchen. Misha must have used his vamp mojo to put Chef on dinner duty. Chef raced between the industrial steel stove and the tan marble counter, slicing, dicing, stirring, and swearing in French. Out of all the vamps in Misha’s keep, Chef was by far the moodiest bastard. “ Merde ,” he muttered the moment he saw us.

Chef lived—well, in death—to prepare meals almost too pretty to eat. I ignored him and shuffled toward the table, feeling more chilled than I should have in the warm kitchen.

“I shall discover who attempted to kill you, Celia. Do not fear for your safety in my home.”

I must have appeared pathetic for Misha’s anger to resurface. “I know, Misha. Don’t worry. I’m fine.” I was getting tired of repeating myself, mostly because I wasn’t “fine.” I was merely forging ahead because, damn it all, there was evil afoot.

My new life as the vampire’s weapon was probably the most dangerous path I could have selected, and yet it felt right. I’d almost lost a sister to the Tribe and watched countless innocents suffer as I stood helplessly by. But I wasn’t helpless, and while I was far from perfect, I could be the perfect weapon . . . at least where Team Dracula was concerned.

My powers were unique and strong, even in a world packed with supernatural muscle. My ability to shift underground unscathed made me difficult to track and conquer. My inner beast also made me formidable against anything with fangs or claws. Pure light could sear a demon and detonate an average vamp, but it had no effect on me. Misha’s legion of undead couldn’t say the same.

Weres matched me in strength, but they’d made it clear they didn’t want me. So in my quest to rid the world of the Tribe, I chose to help the vampires, just as Aric had chosen his pack above and beyond me.

Crap . I rubbed my face. In the end, my thoughts always returned to Aric.

Misha watched me closely. The silence between us grew longer and filled with tension. When he spoke, his light Russian accent dripped with frustration. “You must forget about the beast, Celia. Even if that mongrel does love you, he is obligated by blood and pack to breed with his kind. There is nothing you can do. Your relationship with him is over.”

Misha had recognized Aric’s snarls just as I had. I’d heard them a thousand times out of fear for my safety. Misha had heard them on the receiving end of Aric’s wrath. I’d definitely experienced the cuddlier side of that werewolf. I sat slowly. “Do you realize that you only call me Celia when you’re being serious or when you’re angry with me?” I smiled weakly. “Which is it now?”

He sat across the table from me, frowning in a way that would have sent his family scurrying in fear. “Perhaps it is a little of both, since you fail to come to your senses. You could be with a more deserving male.” He paused. “You could be with me.”

His comment hitched my breath. For once, he wasn’t merely asking me to bed. “Are you asking me for a commitment?”

Misha’s jaw tightened. “Perhaps.”

I stood and walked to his side and brushed his long blond hair away from his face. His expression softened when he caught my smile. “I think you’re the one who needs to come to his senses. You deserve better than what I can give you.”

I meant that. For a vampire, Misha was a tremendous catch. In addition to his incredible masculine beauty, he was smart, funny, and enjoyable company. And, for anyone who cared, he was also obscenely wealthy. I think he owned Canada.

Misha regarded me with complete tenderness. It was a look he gave me frequently since I’d inadvertently returned his soul. His expression was one of kindness and compassion I’d never seen him demonstrate to anyone, and it warmed my heart. He reached out and stroked my face. “Thank you for believing I’m a better man than I am.”

I squeezed his large hand with mine in time for Hank to appear. “Did you find the culprit?” Misha asked without looking at him.

Hank shook his head. “No, Master. We’ve searched the house and the grounds, and the digital recordings taken over the last twenty-four hours have been reviewed. No one but your family and feasts have entered the premises.”