Read His Darkest Salvation Online
Authors: Juliana Stone
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Paranormal, #Supernatural, #Paranormal Romance Stories, #Shapeshifting
“Would you like a drink?” she asked politely, changing the subject.
His nostrils flared once more, his eyes narrowed. “You’ve already indulged, whiskey from the smell of it.” His voice held a hint of distaste. In his mind, a lady should never develop a taste for hard liquor. Wine was a much more refined spirit.
But, of course, she was no lady.
Jaden turned from him, filled with the need to do something, and grabbed her glass, hoping he couldn’t see how her fingers shook as she reached for the crystal decanter.
“Have you spoken to your brothers lately?” His voice was flat, cold, and, just like that, any shred of civility vanished. The pretending was over.
She paused, took a few moments to carefully pour herself a drink, then turned back to him.
His eyes were dead. There was nothing there, at least nothing that was good anyway.
“I talked to Degas several days ago, why?” Degas was the eldest DaCosta sibling, and the most like her father. He was a man filled with darkness, who lived on the edge of sanity, always striving for their father’s approval. He’d just never clued in to the fact it was never going to happen.
Their father cared about no one but himself and the image he wanted them all to project.
“He feels you’ve been distracted of late.” A slight hint of
pissed off
was present in her father’s voice.
Her vision blurred, and her belly rolled, but Jaden smiled tightly. She’d been playing a double role for so long that her reactions were always spot on.
“Distracted?” She laughed softly. “He’s full of crap. Degas is always looking for a way to push me out of the picture.”
Her father remained silent, and she didn’t like the way he was staring at her, like he knew something. Inside, her heart fluttered, and though she tried to keep the blush of heat from her skin, she felt her cheeks redden as he continued to stare at her.
The tattoos on the side of her neck began to burn, and it took everything inside her to keep from glancing back at the balcony. If Julian was there, all would be lost.
“You’re so like your mother,” Jakobi whispered as he walked toward her. She cringed, an automatic reaction to his proximity, and hated the way his mouth lifted into the merest whisper of a smile.
It wasn’t real, of course, and only amplified his distaste for her.
She recovered quickly. Fear fed the sadistic soul that lived inside him, and she’d rather he starve tonight.
He stood not more than two inches from her and she held on to the glass in her hand so tightly that her fingers ached. She heard the air wheezing inside her lungs as her heart rate continued to accelerate.
Damn his sarcastic, arrogant ass. Jakobi knew what he did to her. Why the fuck did she even try?
“Your mother was a whore, too.” His hands reached for the clan tattoos along the side of her neck, and she sensed his anger now. It was in the thin bent to his lips, the eerie glow that lit his eyes from behind.
“You are the shame I cannot hide.”
Jaden swallowed thickly but couldn’t move away. Though his words should have bounced off her like rubber, they didn’t. Even after all this time, they still hurt.
The ache inside her chest tightened as she gazed into his face, fighting the need for him to understand. She was pathetic.
“That you would take a mate yet remain unattached is both unnatural and sinful.”
She flinched at the look of disgust that pinched his features. He would never let it go. “Father, he wasn’t for me,” she managed to get out.
He snarled, and the air around him blurred as he drew his hand high and slapped her,
hard,
across the cheek. Jaden’s head snapped back as pain ripped across her flesh. Blood gushed inside her mouth, the coppery taste flooding her tongue, inflaming her senses.
“Stupid, weak woman. Your path was set, the only thing you needed to do was choose wisely. It should have been one of our own, and now . . .” He spit at her though his voice never deviated from a flat tone. “You’re damaged goods . . . nothing more than a whore who plays in her resort, fucking anything that moves.”
She cringed at his crude words, hating the way they ripped into her soul.
Would there ever come a time when his words would only be flesh wounds and not cut so deep?
Benicio watched silently, several feet away, and her cheeks darkened, flooded with the heat of her shame, as the warrior smirked. Inside, the cat began to scratch at the surface, pulling at her painfully in an effort to get out and act upon her rage. For a second, the air around her blurred, heavy with magick and mist that crawled up her legs.
“Do not think to attack me, little cub.” His whisper was deadly, and she knew his threats were real. She’d seen him in action before. The man was ruthless.
Jaden hung her head and flinched as she felt his breath against her forehead. Her father continued to speak, yet she couldn’t understand his words. Her mind went blank, leaving only a visual behind. Of a long-ago time, before her father’s heart had been blackened.
To a time when his touch had been gentle and his gaze warm.
She blinked rapidly, trying to banish the memories. They were much too painful, filled with of a lifetime of losses.
When his hand dug into her chin and forced her head up, she remained silent, though the jaguar raged against her chest.
“The only reason you still live is because you hold some value to me. Remember that.”
He shoved her away, and she stumbled but quickly regained her balance.
“Why are you here?” she asked, proud that she managed to keep her voice even though inside the ghost of a little girl wailed.
“To keep you on track, focused.”
She watched her father warily as he walked toward the balcony, and the fear inside her spiked as adrenaline kicked in. Her cheek throbbed, but she ignored the pain.
“You don’t have to worry. I know what is expected of me.”
She needed to keep him inside.
“Do you?” he asked softly, his dark gaze sweeping across her as if she were nothing more than a nuisance.
He reached for the whiskey decanter and held it aloft, watching the amber liquid swish against the cool glass.
“What were you doing in Washington?”
How the hell did he find that out?
She glanced at Benicio once more, but the warrior was focused elsewhere, his massive body leaning against the wall. He looked bored, but then he’d seen their family drama played out so many times, they’d not covered anything new.
She rubbed her cheek and felt the swelling of skin along the curve.
“You should put some ice on that,” Jakobi said, smiling softly as if they were sharing a secret. “But before you do, tell me about your trip.”
Jaden stared at her father for several long moments and took the plunge. There was no use in lying.
“A little bird told me that Julian Castille was back from the dead.”
Surprise flickered deep within the depths of Jakobi’s eyes. It flared to a bright red, then was gone. He was an expert at keeping his cool.
“I decided to check it out,” she continued as she walked the few feet to the side cupboard and retrieved her glass of whiskey. She downed the remnants of it and turned back to him. “The little bird was wrong . . . as far as I could tell.”
Plant the seed and keep them occupied.
She knew this info would drive her father crazy.
Her father’s eyes narrowed, and his lips tightened. “Where did you get that intel?”
Good question, she thought.
Jaden shrugged her shoulders and ignored the tightness that swept across them as she set down her empty glass. She needed one helluva massage to rid her body of the dark energy that was tying her up in knots.
“A conversation with a man at the bar a few nights back. He got loaded, I got some information,” she answered truthfully. “Doesn’t matter though, the intel didn’t pan out.”
“Interesting,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “Benicio, call the driver.” He nodded to her, his eyes narrowing. “Clean yourself up and for God’s sake let out your plaything. I can smell his fear from here.”
Alarm rifled through Jaden, but she relaxed when she realized he must have sensed Tank. She, too, could smell his fear though it was overshadowed by embarrassment.
Her father walked toward the elevator and paused as the doors slid open, his profile sharp against the lit interior.
“You will stay the course, little pet, or the consequences will be swift and hard. The portal is our only agenda. It’s the key to everything.”
He walked past Benicio, entered the lift, and turned, his eyes piercing as they focused on her. “Kragen Black has requested a meeting. You will take it. He’s here and is expecting you for dinner. Dress well for him and do whatever you must to secure his allegiance.”
Jaden nodded but remained silent, trying to keep the disgust she felt to herself. He had called her a whore, spoken of his shame, but was the first one to pass her off as nothing more than a prostitute when the situation presented itself.
“If I sense a hint of betrayal, I will kill you.”
I love you too, Daddy.
The little girl voice rushed through her brain, and she shook her head slightly, pushing back at memory lane until there was nothing but heavy silence.
The doors slid shut, and Jaden felt her energy leave in a rush.
Her teeth began to chatter, and she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to seek what little bit of comfort she could. But she was empty, tapped out, and as she closed her eyes, a single solitary tear escaped and slowly made its way down her face.
It slipped over the swelling flesh where her father had struck her, and she wiped it away angrily, relishing the pain that rippled along her skin as she touched the tender area.
Pain was good. It gave her something to focus on instead of the pile of shit her life had become. And the pile was getting larger every day . . . so big that it was becoming a physical entity.
At night, when she was alone in bed, it would press against her chest, hold tight, and drown her in sweat and fear. Not so much fear of the unknown or of dying, but the loneliness, the absolute knowledge that she had no one else.
Not really. Nico and the others were there for her when she needed them, but none of them
belonged
to her.
That ship had passed and left her a long time ago. Three years to be exact.
You gotta stop thinking about the future.
The doors to the balcony slid open behind her, and she exhaled slowly. She was no longer alone. Guess it would have been too much to ask for Julian to just straight up disappear.
“I see Daddy Dearest has some anger-management issues.”
Her mortification was now complete. Obviously, Julian had watched the entire exchange. Every painful detail.
“Cheap entertainment here at Night Sky Resort,” she tossed at him lightly, glad the tremors that bounced around inside her didn’t find their way out vocally.
She didn’t turn around, even when she felt the heat of him at her back. In fact, she found herself weakening, her flesh aching for a warm body.
An image flashed in her mind, of his arms wrapped around her tightly, providing the comfort and strength she needed.
She felt herself waver, her feet barely able to hold her body upright.
“Your father might be a total fucking jerk, but he’s right about one thing.”
Jaden cocked her head to the side, feeling the moment leave in a rush. “And that is?” she asked quietly.
“You should put some ice on that.”
J
ulian watched as Jaden’s shoulders slumped, and he winced at the harshness of his words, but really, what else could she expect from him?
And yet there was something sad about a woman of such strength and determination cut to the bone by the asshole who was her father.
Something flared inside him, a small sliver of emotion, and he clenched his hands tightly at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for her.
That was a line he wouldn’t be crossing.
The silence in the room was sharp, it pulled at his ears. Inside his mind, the beast continued to howl in frustration, burning him with anxiety. His jaguar scratched beneath the surface, enraged. It had taken every ounce of control he possessed to remain on the balcony when Jakobi had attacked Jaden.
He shouldn’t care. So she had family issues, so what? It wasn’t like his own upbringing had been a bed of fucking roses.
You were never beaten.
He shook his head in an effort to banish the voice that was trying to break through. The other half of his soul perhaps?
He grimaced and took a step back, squashing the warm fuzzies before they had a chance to sprout.
He had no time for it.