Cherry Creek (21 page)

My head tilts as I ask, “So, if I only need twenty percent of what you usually take, does that make me twenty percent demon instead of fifty percent?”

Khristos chuckles. “No. You're still half.”

I'm silent for a long moment, and I chew my bottom lip as I process all this new information. I look at him suddenly. “So all this time, I've been feeding off Brad?”

This has him sobering up. “Yes. If you were sleeping with him, you were more likely feeding through sex without even knowing it.”

“You said...that regularly feeding from a human can cause insanity?” I ask softly.

Khristos walks over to me, and he stares down at me with surprising gentleness. “You didn't know, Livvy.”

“How?” I ask abruptly as I gaze up at him. “How could he go insane like that?”

“Remember how I told you that a succubus or incubus can become like a drug to a human?”

I nod.

“That's what happened. Our kind gives off very strong pheromones. It's how we get the humans to want us, to give us what we need. He became addicted to you and the pheromones. His body grew accustomed to it, and it got to the point that he couldn't be without you,” he says quietly.

Tears fill my eyes as I realize I'm the reason Brad is in a coma. Not just because I hit him in the head with the bat, but because I'm the one who'd driven him insane.

Khristos touches my shoulders. “You can't blame yourself, Livvy. You couldn't have known—”

I shrug away from his touch and look at him accusingly. “It's your fault, too. You've been watching me for years, right?”

His jaw clenches, and he stares at me mutely.

I glare at him with simmering eyes. “I was dating him for almost a year. How would you not think I might be feeding from him? I wouldn't show any signs if I was feeding off someone. You had to have known about him.”

“You started dating him shortly before your seventeen birthday. You hadn't shown any signs for several months after turning sixteen, and you didn’t have a supernatural aura. As far as we could tell, he was your first boyfriend. What else were we supposed to think? I assumed you were fully human. I kept an eye on you, but accepted the fact that you would lead a normal life.”

I turn away from him and walk to the balcony door to stare out at the pool. I don't know what to think. I have no idea how I can be so calm right now, but I'm guessing it'll sink in later, and I'll flip out.

“Livvy...”

“Do the succubi all turn at the same time? On their sixteenth birthday?” I ask as I look back at him.

His hands are in his pants pockets, and he's beginning to look a bit defeated. “No,” he admits.

“How long does it usually take?”

“Weeks, maybe months.”

My eyes narrow. “You knew there was a chance I still might be a succubus.”

“I still had you watched, but not as consistent as before.”

“Did the possibility cross your mind at all that I could have been feeding off Brad?” I demand tightly.

Khristos sighs as his lips tighten in the corners. “We missed the signs, Livvy. I'm sorry.”

“Tell that to Brad. Oh, right. You can't, because I put my boyfriend in a coma,” I say flatly, my eyes flashing at him accusingly.

He doesn't say anything, he just stands there, completely still as he studies me.

“Where's my mom?” I need her now more than ever, and I’m desperate to feel connected to her.

“I don't know,” he says as a fine line appears between his eyebrows. “I'll track her down for you if you'd like. But you need to know something first,” he says carefully.

“What?”

“It's not something I wanted to tell you.” His eyes fill with regret as he gazes at me. “It'll change everything, and I don't want to hurt you.”

“Tell me,” I demand.

“I paid your mother for you.”

For a long second, I stare at him blankly. “I don't understand.”

Khristos reaches up and rubs the nape of his neck. “When I arrived at your apartment, I took Caroline out to dinner and offered her five hundred thousand dollars to let me take you back to Cherry Creek. I was a total stranger to her, Livvy. All I did was assure her that I knew your father and that you'd be safe. It took her a half hour to agree to my offer.” Anger flashes in his gaze as he stares back at me. “I would have gone up to millions to bring you here to keep you safe. But half a million is all you were worth to her.”

I recoil back, my heart slamming against my ribs as his words sink in.

Khristos grimaces when he sees my expression, but he continues on mercilessly. “Part of the deal was for her to no longer have any contact with you. I expected more out of her, and she handed you over like a piece of furniture. I tacked on the last stipulation after she caved so easily. At that point, I felt she didn't deserve you. You deserve better.”

My lips part, and I turn away, staring at the wall as things begin to make sense. The excitement in her gaze, the brief comment here and there that last week about wanting to replace things after she could save up the cash. She knew she was getting all that money, and she couldn't wait to spend it. It's why she left the apartment. She bought a better place. She got rid of the cell phone, because she was honoring the agreement.

A broken sob escapes from me as I double over. My arms wrap around my waist as the brutal truth slams into me. My own mother sold me. She didn't want me. I thought... Everything I've always thought of her begins to splinter.

“Livvy.”

I straighten up and scream, “Get out!”

He doesn't flinch where he stands, but his blue eyes are alert as they study me intently. “I get you're mad at me. I probably come off as a total bastard in this moment, but I'd rather you hear the truth as it is. I won't embellish it to make your mother look better than what she is. She doesn't deserve it.”

“Get out. Just leave me the hell alone. I need time to... Just go,” I say flatly.

“I'm here when you want to talk,” he says quietly.

I turn my back on him, letting him know what I think of
that
comment. A second later, I hear the door shut softly. My head drops, and deep wracking sobs shake my body as I walk over to my bed to sit down.

Chapter Twelve

It's well after midnight, and I can't sleep. I've been restlessly pacing my room for hours, because my body isn't ready to rest. I don't think I could shut my mind off to sleep anyway. I'm just so angry right now. Angry at my mom. Angry at Khristos. Angry that I have to steal other people's energy to survive. I guess you could say I'm angry at the world.

As I pace, I liken my mood to an animal pacing its cage at the zoo, anxious to get out because the walls are closing in... If I don't find something to relieve this inner restlessness, I'm going to go insane.

Trace's face flashes in my mind, and I chew my thumbnail as I debate whether I should try to search him out or not. He's always been kind, even if he has been following me. I'm assuming Khristos ordered him to do it, so I can't really blame him for spying on me.

But then, I can't help but wonder if he was only being nice because he
was
spying on me. A sound of disgust escapes me as I pull my thumbnail away from my teeth. Khristos has me doubting everyone after blowing my world to smithereens with my mom's betrayal. My heart clenches at the reminder. Five hundred thousand dollars is all it took.
Thanks a lot, mom.

I'm so angry right now that I don't know what to do with it. I'm mad at my mom, Khristos, Roman... My fists clench. I'd love to hit something right now. Preferably them, if I could. The punching bag in the gym flashes in my mind.

That’ll do.

Maybe I'll run into Trace, and if not, I have the punching bag to keep me company. I silently make my way through the mansion, and I momentarily wonder if Khristos and Roman sleep much. I've never seen them about when I've left my room late at night. Then again, this place is huge. When I reach the basement, I find that it's completely dark. I switch on the lights in the main room and make my way down the hall, flipping on the overhead light. I'm disappointed Trace isn't awake, but I quickly push it aside. Just because he's been nice, doesn't necessarily mean I can trust him.

I walk over to the punching bag in the corner and lightly run my fingertips down the smooth leathery surface. I've never punched anything before. I step back, close my fist and tentatively punch at the bag. It's a weak punch and comes out more like a tap.

Heck, the bag doesn’t even move.

My eyes narrow, and I punch again, putting a little more effort into it this time. Still not enough. I pull back my right arm and punch it as hard as I can. “Shit!” I exclaim as pain radiates through my knuckles and up my wrist. I quickly shake out my hand as the pain subsides.

That hurt, but it'd felt good at the same time, because I'd made the bag swing on its hook. What's the old saying? No pain, no gain? I stretch out my fingers before clenching both hands into fists again. I punch the bag, refusing to wince. I take turns using both fists to pummel the bag, and I enjoy the sounds of my fists hitting the leather. Sure, it still hurts, but I grow numb to it as I think about my mom.

After a bit, my thoughts shift to Khristos as I take my frustration out on the bag as if it were him. All this could have been avoided if he'd approached me sooner. Yeah, he would have come off as a total loon, but maybe it would have triggered something, and I'd have begun to notice I was feeding off Brad. And what about
him?
If he wakes up from the coma, will he still be insane? Is there any way to fix it?

Then, there's Roman.

He's so dead the next time I see him.
My jaw clenches, and I swing my fist hard at the bag, relishing the
thwack
echoing throughout the gym. That asshole did something to me that night at the club. Well, to be more precise, it was Tatum who gave me the drink. I know now that they drugged me. It's the only thing that makes sense. I'd found anything male attractive that night. Even those sleazy jerks that had me cornered before Trace interfered. There's also the fact that Roman and Trace had been in Khristos's office the very next morning, and Roman had been in huge trouble. I'm certain that meeting had been about me. I remember Adelaide telling me that Roman had handled a delicate situation badly.

I draw my fist back again, only to have it suddenly caught up in a warm hand.

I start slightly, turning around to find Trace. He hasn't been to bed yet, because he's still wearing the jeans and fitted tee-shirt he'd been wearing earlier when he'd carried Nathan out of my room. Only now his dark hair is pulled back in a short ponytail instead of hanging near his shoulders. His eyes scan me from head to toe for a brief moment before his eyes drop to where he still has my fist encased in his hand. He gently releases my hand, only to inspect my raw knuckles. There are a few scrapes, but they aren't bleeding. “Let me see the other one,” he orders. I silently hold it out for his inspection. His eyes lift back to mine with a hint of reproach. “You should be wearing gloves.”

“I don't have any.”

“I'll get you some. C'mon,” he says as he turns and walks towards the gym doorway. My feet follow, and he leads me back to the main room and motions to one of the couches. “Sit.”

The second I sit down, I realize that I feel better. A lot of the anger I'd felt has given way to exhaustion. Pummeling the bag had worn me down.

I look up when Trace walks up to me and holds out two bags of ice. “Leave them on your hands for a bit. It'll help with the swelling.”

I settle the bags on my knuckles and watch as he sits down near me. “I thought you were getting me gloves.”

“We don't have women's gloves here. I'll buy you a pair.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I think I'll have a better idea of what kind to buy than you would,” he says lightly as he focuses his attention on me. He sits casually, knees spread slightly in typical male fashion.

“You're probably right,” I agree.

“How are you feeling? I mean physically.”

I shrug. “Back to normal, I guess. I was pretty restless earlier, but now I'm feeling tired.”

Trace nods. “When a succubus takes too much, she'll be wired for a bit. Same with an incubus.”

My eyes drop, and I stare at the ice bag that rests on one of my fists. I'm part succubus. I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it.

“Want to talk about it?” Trace asks almost gently.

I glance at him. I don't want to talk about myself, but I do have questions that have been rolling around in my head. “Are there more, uh, succubi and incubi in Cherry Creek?”

“A few. But most are located in the cities.”

“So, if demons exist, what else exists?” I ask cautiously.

“You sure you're ready for that answer?”

I stare at him. “What else is there?”

“I think this is a topic that should be revisited in a few days,” he suggests as he turns his attention on my hand that rests on the couch between us. He lifts the ice bag to inspect my red knuckles.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You have to tell me now. Otherwise, I'll keep wondering until someone tells me. Just dump it on me all at once,” I say bravely. “This way I can deal with it instead of having more things dumped on me at a later date.”

His gray eyes shift back to my face. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Okay,” I say simply as I wait.

He's silent for a moment. “What else are you wondering exists? You ask, and I'll tell you if it does.”

“Vampires?” I ask instantly. It's the first thing that enters my mind.

“Yes.”

My jaw about drops. “Really?”

He nods.

“Werewolves?” I ask faintly.

“Yes. There are different shifters in existence, the werewolves make up only a small portion of them.”

I'm speechless. I've watched plenty of movies with supernatural creatures in them, but I never thought they could be real.
Holy...
How many have I unwittingly walked past? “I guess witches exist, too,” I murmur. “What about fairies and stuff?”

“The fae exist.”