Family Pride (Blood of the Pride) (21 page)

“Afterwards we became close pals, the three of us.” She wagged a finger in the air. “Not that way, before your dirty little mind goes there. Grace and Eddy knew they could count on me to be there.”

“Then why...” I coughed on the words clogging my throat. The scars across my back throbbed as if they’d been reopened. “This.” I waved over my shoulder with my one good hand, unable to speak the words.

Jess looked down, fumbling with the half-empty mug of tea. “I thought you had more of your mother in you, the fighting spirit I saw when she challenged me for your father. I thought if I attacked you, forced you into a corner, your Felis nature would come out.”

A single tear broke free from her right eye. It slowly dribbled down her cheek, curling up under her chin.

She swallowed hard before speaking. “I was wrong.”

I wasn’t sure what to say in response, if anything.

“When your parents died I promised myself I’d take care of you, guide you into a power position in the Pride.” Jess sniffled, making a halfhearted swipe at her nose with one hand. “I figured your...disability was a mental thing, something we could work through. After their accident, when you stopped being able to Change, the doctors couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you so...” She stopped speaking.

“So you thought you’d beat it out of me.” The words came out harsher than I meant and I regretted them as soon as they escaped my mouth.

“Yes.” The whispered response ripped the healed wounds open as easily as if she’d clawed me again. “And I’m sorry about it. I was wrong.” She drew a stuttering breath. “We were wrong. The Board made the decision but I went along with it. I thought if it was me it’d be different, it’d call up your mother’s blood...” She looked down, shaking her head and falling silent.

I couldn’t begin to sort through the emotions swirling around in my mind and heart, thoughts bashing and crashing into each other as I looked back on the decades I’d spent exiled from my home and family.

And yet...

I closed my eyes, trying to figure out what I thought and felt after the first surge of rage and sadness.

Where I was, what I was, existed solely because of my past. All the missteps and all the decisions from both the Felis and me had led to my being here.

With Bran.

I put my mug down and reached across the tray to take Jess’s free hand.

“I understand.”

Her fingers tightened on mine for a long minute, her gaze riveted on the floor.

I swallowed hard. “You did what you thought was right—like Bernadette.”

Her head shot up and I saw a flash of anger in her good eye before it dimmed to a sad nod. “That’s why I had to tell you this. Family secrets. Some of them don’t deserve to be kept.”

I shifted, feeling the tightness across my back. “I’m not going to thank you for it but things worked out okay.” I looked around the living room. “I’m here. And I have Bran. Wouldn’t have any of that if I’d stayed on the farm.”

“Be a lot easier if you stayed out of trouble,” she growled.

I resisted the urge to smile. There was the Jess I loved and feared.

I also knew I wouldn’t be able to turn down the next request for help from Jess, not with a clear conscience. I’d racked up a shitload of IOUs with the family and it’d take time to pay them all off.

“Thanks for the help with Liam.” I shifted the conversation into safe ground. “I felt better knowing he was safe.”

“Glad to do it. Been a while since I held a baby. Sort of missed it.” She stood up and put the cup on the tray. Her nose wrinkled. “Except for the diapers. That I definitely did not miss.”

I couldn’t help laughing. A full diaper smelled bad enough for me—I couldn’t imagine how much stinkier it smelled with Jess’s heightened senses.

Jess cleared her throat, once again the badass Felis Board member. “Now that you’re back I’m going to head to the farm. Too much excitement for one day for this old lioness.”

“You’re welcome to stay here for the night.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. It’d been the politest thing I’d said to her in months.

The scars on my back didn’t ache.

She smiled. “Thanks, but your mate’s going to be home soon and I don’t want to interfere in the discussion you two are going to have. I’m no dummy—I know when to get out of the way.” She snatched up her leather jacket from the coat rack standing near the front door. “Besides, I’m a light sleeper. Be too uncomfortable to stay awake all night listening to the two of you making up.”

Jess trotted out before I could come up with a snappy retort.

I stood up, every bone and muscle aching from the mental and physical abuse I’d endured over the past day. Jazz mewed before rolling into the warm spot I’d vacated.

The front door was unlocked. I headed toward it, planning to barricade myself in the house for at least a few hours until dawn. It’d been a long strange day and I wanted to climb into a hot shower and scrub all the strange off.

A familiar scent drifted in, replacing Jess’s.

I inhaled deeply, feeling the aches and pains starting to be replaced by a calmness, a steadiness only one person could create. I walked out the front door.

Bran stood in the front yard. He had his back to me and stared up at the night sky. On good nights you could actually spot stars through the ever-present city haze.

It was a good night.

A full moon helped illuminate the grass and rosebushes lining the small patch of dirt, giving them an otherworldly look.

He stood there, his hands in his pockets, looking up. I walked up beside him and glanced subtly at his left side. A small bandage ran across the top of his nose. The blood was gone and I caught the smell of antiseptic wipes.

“Not broken,” Bran said to the night sky.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. There was so much ground to cover and I didn’t even have a map.

“Jess just passed through.” A wide grin split his face. “Gave me a hug.”

I blinked. “A hug?”

“Yeah. Can’t figure that woman out.”

“Tell me about it.” I stood beside him and looked up into the darkness. “I’ve been trying for years. I want to say she’s mellowing in her old age but I’m afraid she’ll rip my throat out for even thinking it.”

Bran laughed. “I can see that.”

I swallowed hard, not knowing where to start. “Bran, I’m—” I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“For all of this.” I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “This is all my fault.”

“What?” He turned me toward him. “What are you talking about?”

“I should have walked away from it all,” I mumbled. “All I had to do was tell Hank what I saw and leave. If I hadn’t scented Liam, if I hadn’t found out who his real father was...”

“Because it would have been so much better for my mother to get away with murder.” The ironic tone slapped me across the face. “Because it would have been preferable for Liam to grow up living a lie and my mother denying him the truth about his family. Because the Callendars wouldn’t mind burying their daughter and wondering where in the world their grandson is and if he’s even alive.”

I sniffled. “I should have just not been...” I flapped my hands, knowing I looked like an idiot and not caring. “Not a Felis.”

“Don’t you say that,” he growled. “Don’t you ever say that.”

“If I hadn’t—”

He cut me off with a slash of his hand, moving in on me. “Molly Callendar’s death would have gone down as a horrible crime with no one answering for it. Mike Hancock’s murderer would still be running the police force down in Penscotta and doing God knows what under the Board’s noses. And Janey Winter’s family would still be wondering who the hell killed their mother and wife.” He huffed. “Don’t you ever, ever say that you don’t want to be Felis again.”

“But your mother—”

“My mother’s been messed up for years. If she’d gotten away with this, God knows what would be next.”

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close. “If you weren’t who you are, my life would suck. I’d be writing crappy tabloid filler and sleeping alone every night, drinking myself to sleep and wondering if there was something better out there.” His voice dropped to a heated whisper. “I love ending every day with you wrapped in my arms. I live to wake up every morning curled around you in bed.” Bran cupped my face in his hands, tears now running down his cheeks. “You’ve changed me forever. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.” His thumb rubbed against my lips. “My ferocious little Felis.”

The light kiss tasted of tears, both of ours.

I hiccupped and slumped in his arms, dizzy with emotion.

Bran grunted. “How long for the arm?”

I winced and looked at the bandage. “Too long.”

“Oh, well.” He gave me a soft smile. “I think I’ll have to be on top for a bit. Just to make sure you don’t fall off and pull those stitches out.”

“Sure.” It was time to get serious. “Did, ah, did you get an update on your mother?”

He looked down and dug the toe of his running shoe into the half-dead grass. “Mom might make bail tomorrow. Lawyer’s doing his best to make it happen. There’s talk of going for diminished capacity.”

“Mental illness. Do you think she’ll go for it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t honestly know. It won’t keep her out of jail forever but she’ll at least be able to get some help to deal with things.” He shook his head. “The society papers are going to have a good run at this. Liam’s existence, his mother’s murder at my mother’s command and my father’s infidelity, all out in the public for everyone to see.”

“Spice up those tea parties.” I fumbled for something proper to say. “Might even make some of them have more than one cucumber sandwich.”

“Just might.” He let out a pained sigh. “I saw Dad. He, well...he wants what’s best for Liam. I overheard his lawyers talking about going to the Callendars, working out some sort of deal. He’s a bit long in the tooth to take care of a newborn.”

I touched his shoulder. “Liam deserves a family.”

“I’m not sure Dad is the right type of family. Look how I turned out.” He spread his hands palm-up. “Fucked up five ways to Sunday.”

“You’re not so bad.” I gave him a gentle nudge with my hip. “Except when you scratch and bite.”

“Thought that was what you liked.”

A hot surge of lust burned through my veins. Ever since our foray into the Pennsylvanian wilderness our lovemaking had been a bit rougher, a bit more frantic. I’d been able to let my Felis side out and Bran liked it—returning my efforts with interest.

It was a flash of the old Bran. I felt a bit better.

His left hand uncurled from his pocket and slipped into my right. “I told my father I’m done with the Hanovers. The family, the company, all of it.”

I frowned. “What?”

His grip tightened. “I’ve lived off their money for years. The condo, the credit cards—all backed by Daddy’s money. It never bothered me, because I made myself believe the cash I got from writing was enough to live on. Now I realize it was a payoff, a way of buying my silence. About his affairs, about everything. The problems we never spoke about, the secrets we kept.” He lifted our entwined hands. “I wonder if it would have turned out this way if my family chatted more around the breakfast table like regular folk instead of rushing off to work or to charity meetings or photo ops.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I smiled. “You’ve never been much of a morning person.”

“I’m giving it all up. The condo’s going up for sale and I already shredded the credit cards.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. “Everything?”

“Everything. No more steaks, no more tailored suits, no more fancy restaurants.” His free hand swept over the yard. “I don’t want any economic links to either of them. I might be blood kin and I can’t do anything about that, but I’m not going to take their money and be expected to keep their dirty little secrets.” The words rolled out as if he were afraid to keep them inside for a second longer. “I’ll do what’s right by Liam. He’s my half brother and I want to have a relationship with him, if and when the Callendars will let me. But that’s all.”

“Whuf.” I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate to say. A part of me whimpered at the loss of those fabulous rare steaks. The other part was relieved Jazz wouldn’t get any fatter on fancy leftovers.

The third part wondered where he was going to go now.

“Problem is, now I’m homeless. And I’m a wee bit too old to go sleep in the park with the other kids.”

“Oh well.” I gave a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll go get your spare underwear and socks and stuff them into a plastic bag. I think there’s a park over by the lake that’s got a few empty benches at this time of night.”

“What?”

I couldn’t sustain the seriousness needed to pull the joke off.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

Bran rubbed his chin. “This is a big step forward in a relationship. I mean, what if you find your perfect mate next w—”

I cut him off with a growl, pressing my lips to his.

His teeth closed on my bottom lip and tugged, almost painfully.

I pulled back first, breathless and smiling.

“We are one screwed-up couple,” Bran said.

“Yep.” I took his hand and led him inside. “It’s a good place to start.”

* * * * *

Find out how Rebecca Desjardin’s story started...

Pick up the first two installments in the series from Sheryl Nantus!

Blood of the Pride

When a severed rabbit’s paw is delivered to her office, outcast cat shifter Rebecca Desjardin recognizes the summons home. One of their own has been murdered—and a shocking photo published in a local tabloid—and her Pride needs Rebecca, now a private investigator, to track down the killer. Investigative reporter Brandon Hanover wants to find out who slipped the photo of the half-shifted cat-woman under his door, marking him as a suspect in her death. Determined to stay one step ahead of the sexy journalist, Rebecca reluctantly agrees to partner with him to find the real murderer. When the search leads them back to the Pride, Rebecca must attempt to Change for the first time in years to face the killer, and save the man she loves...

Claws Bared

Rebecca Desjardin, a P.I. and cat shifter, doesn’t normally find herself in strip clubs. But a popular male dancer has been murdered in Pennsylvania, and it looks like the work of a shifter from the local Pride. Rebecca has a duty to help protect her kind—and she needs to find justice for the dead. As her investigation unfolds, she’s met with grudging cooperation and half-truths. Does the Pride want her to find justice, or help them hide a killer? Frustrated and unable to shake the sexy local shifter who says he’s
on
her side, Rebecca can’t seem to scratch out the truth—at least not
on
her own. But when Brandon shows up, is he there to help or to mark his territory?

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