Mated To The Devil (6 page)

She should have just forgotten Remy then and there, after all, what young college guy would want a one-night stand to show up with a baby in her belly? But she couldn’t seem to erase him from her mind. It might have only been one night, but Remy’s image remained imprinted on her brain. Heck, she’d almost wager, if she was in a dark room filled with him and a dozen strangers, she’d find him because she’d never since experienced the quickness of breath, the jolting electricity, or the awareness of her own body like she had with him.

The searching stopped when Jacques was born. Although still poor and afraid of the future, she knew when she looked into his little face that she’d make it. She had to, because her baby depended on her.
And I will never let him down.

Part of taking care of him now, though, meant finding out what ailed her son. Or, more frightening, what demon he harbored inside, a gift from his father. Was Remy with the glowing eyes a demon? The devil himself? It would explain how she’d succumbed to sin so easily. However, it also made her son’s existence a terrifying thing because she’d read enough books to know what happened to the son of the devil. If anyone discovered who Jacques’ father was, would they come for him? Take him from her?

For years she’d lived in terror that some doctors, or government agents, somebody faceless but who she knew had to exist, would show up on her doorstep and take her away, take Jacques away, and treat them little better than lab rats. It was what they did to freaks after all, and she couldn’t deny it—not anymore. Mina and Jacques were no longer one hundred percent human.

And it’s all Remy’s fault, I’ll bet.
A devil with glowing orbs, a magical touch, and a body that tempted her into sin. She’d allowed a demon to seduce her and now paid the price.

Blaming him didn’t preclude the fact she needed help. More accurately, Jacques needed help. Whatever Remy was, it took root in Jacques and Mina didn’t know how to stop it. Her son’s aggressive behavior increased daily, as did the strange glitches that showed his more-than-human status. If she let things escalate too far, she ran a risk of someone noticing and reporting them. She’d lose her son.

I can’t let that happen.

She’d already lost her family, who, ashamed that their daughter had gotten pregnant, threw her out, never to speak to her again. Well, except to call her even worse names when she’d dared to show up on their doorstep with the baby, hoping the sight of Jacques would somehow temper their strict beliefs. Bad idea. She never went back after that.

She’d lost everything she knew to keep her child created out of forbidden pleasure—a glorious, eye-opening pleasure. And now to keep him, she’d have to risk everything and tell someone about her special child. Then pray, pray to the God who’d forsaken her, that she made the right choice.

Before she could change her mind, she took her little guy to see a doctor. She didn’t go into extreme detail, just enough that the walk-in clinic referred her to a pediatrician, who, in some miracle, saw her within two weeks of her decision to seek help.

Sitting in Dr. Moireau’s office, with her head bowed and hands clasped, Mina took a deep breath before she told the graying practitioner everything. From her shameful encounter with Remy to the changes she’d noticed in her son. The only thing she kept back were the changes in herself.

After she finished her unbelievable tale, she waited and waited, the deep silence in the office broken only by the slight hiss of the air conditioner sitting precariously in the window.

It came to her how crazy her story must seem and how insane she sounded. She readied herself for flight when Dr. Moireau finally spoke. “I’m glad you came to me, Mina. While rare, I’ve come across this condition once before.”

The words jolted her. “Did you—did you cure it?” She raised a hopeful face to him, and his watery blue eyes met hers for a moment before shifting away.

“Unfortunately, the mother ran off with the child before we could start any course of treatment. But don’t worry. I have some ideas. First, though, why don’t I meet your son?”

A flick of a button, and Dr. Moireau summoned his receptionist, who came in with Mina’s son. Jacques entered with a stubborn expression, his lower lip jutting, and crawled up onto her lap.

“Hello, Jacques. I am Dr. Moireau. Your mother here tells me you’re a very special boy.”

“Wanna leave.”

Mina held him firm when he would have slid off her lap. “Hush now. We are here so the doctor can help you.”

“Wanna go,” Jacques insisted, his body bristling with tension.

“You can go after we run a few tests,” the doctor said rising from his desk and circling around to stand in front of them. He reached a hand out as if to brush the hair off Jacques’ forehead, but never finished the motion as her son lunged forward and snapped at the blue-veined hand.

“Jacques!” Mina exclaimed, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Wanna go home now!” A growl followed his statement, and judging by the doctor’s intrigued expression, Mina could easily guess what Jacques’ eyes were doing.

The doctor, however, didn’t recoil. “Fascinating. This won’t take long, Jacques. Just a few tests and then how about a treat for being such a good boy?”

In the end, Mina held her screaming son down, tears streaming down her cheeks, as the doctor drew blood and did his best to perform a basic medical exam on her son. Somehow her decision to find out what ailed him and cure him didn’t seem like such a good idea now when faced with the reality of his reaction.

Dr. Moireau did his best to reassure her. “Don’t worry, Mina. You did the right thing. We’ll figure out what’s going on with your boy, and do our best to control it. Go home now. I’ll call you when I get some answers.” In other words, when the results of the bloodwork returned from the lab and Mina found out once and for all what possessed her son.

On her knees that same night, she prayed for God to help her as her son tossed fitfully in his bed.

Please Lord, if you still have an ounce of love for me after the way I failed you with my weakness and my unforgivable sin, help my son.

Chapter Six

The shrill ring of his cell phone made his back pocket vibrate as Pierre left the sheriff’s office. Yanking it out, he glanced at the display and, recognizing the caller, he answered with a brusque “What is it?”

“I’ve got a hit.”

Stumbling, Pierre almost pitched head-first onto the sidewalk. He caught himself. “Are you sure?” He could almost see the eyes of his brother rolling on the other end of the line.

“No, I called you because you’re such a joy to talk to. Of course I’m sure. Do you think I’d be risking my job to send you this information if I wasn’t? We’re lucky I caught it, though, as I was supposed to be off today. I’m e-mailing the address over to you right now.”

“Is it a woman?” Pierre closed his eyes as he allowed himself a smidgen of hope for his son.

“Nope. Definitely male.”

“I guess it was too much to hope for.”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually. Shit, my boss is coming. I gotta go.”

The phone clicked, and Pierre slowly lowered the cell as he stared off into space. Pierre couldn’t help the disappointment. Hope of any kind would have been welcome, anything to bring a smile back to his son’s face.

More than four years ago, after almost a year of searching, when Pierre told his son Remy to let the girl go, he’d meant it. He’d hoped, even knowing the impossibility, that perhaps either Remy would discover he was mistaken and meet a new woman, a new mate, or that perhaps the female would somehow find her way back to him.

It hadn’t happened yet. Instead his son pined for his lost mate and beat himself up over his mistakes, while Pierre kept digging. He’d discovered the girl’s name, Mina Leblanc, not that it did him any good. Attempts to talk with the family about Mina went nowhere. Other than a comment from the father about the whore no longer being around to shame them, they acted as if she’d never existed. They were uptight religious freaks, and Pierre could easily guess that the loss of Mina’s virginity sent them off the deep end. Not to mention the father made no bones about the fact racism was alive and well, practically spitting on Pierre in disgust when he’d dared to confront him on his doorstep, desperate for any details on where Mina might have gone. His hateful words still rang in Pierre’s ears:
“Not bad enough she’s a slut. I find out she slept with one of
you
!”
Pierre barely held back from slamming his fist into the red-veined nose of Mina’s father. Violence wouldn’t fix things nor would it help him in his quest to locate her.

The poor girl.
Instead of being welcomed into our fold as a cherished addition, she’s out there in the world, struggling alone.
Worse, the mating bond wouldn’t allow her to find comfort in the arms of another. Once Lycans mated, it was for life.

In his search, Pierre learned all kinds of things about his son’s mate, such as her straight-A grades, her ability to sing, the fact she loved children and wanted to become a nurse. Minor items of no consequence that he managed to glean from school chums and teachers. But no one, not a single bloody person, seemed to know where she’d gone or what happened to her. She’d vanished, and none of Pierre’s available resources seemed able to find her.

He’d truly hoped that his brother, working as a technician in a provincial lab that tested blood, would by some miracle run across her. With the free healthcare Canadians enjoyed, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that she’d go for yearly physicals and submit samples of her blood. And if luck could take their side, his brother would end up with that sample and spot the markers in her makeup that would shout her status as more than human. It hadn’t happened yet, but in an odd twist, Pierre’s brother located a male within a two-hour drive of their town.

Whoever that male was, he needed to be brought in. Lycans weren’t supposed to exist outside a pack. The dangers to their kind didn’t allow for it, and given this unknown’s rash decision to allow humans to take his blood, needed either some teaching or reminding of his special status.

Pierre gave Remy a shout before heading out, just to let him know he’d be gone a day, maybe more as he dealt with the Lycan. Not that Remy showed much interest. Eat, sleep, and work. That was all his boy did since he’d gotten kicked out of college.

GPS-ing the address, Pierre followed the coordinates right into the city—and not the nice part of it. He pulled up outside a concrete edifice where more sheets than blinds covered the windows and graffiti provided a colorful backsplash. Arming the alarm on his car, Pierre exited it and hoped it would stay intact while he conducted his business.

The interior of the building, easily accessed through the broken security door, looked as shabby as the outside, with worn linoleum and rusted mailboxes. The elevator, no surprise, wasn’t in service, and judging by the ragged tape closing it off, hadn’t operated in a while. Pierre jogged up the stairs, the artwork on the walls providing visual entertainment and a new vocabulary of words—as well as lots of phone numbers for a good time.

Setting foot onto the sixth floor, he peeked up and down the hall before choosing a direction. Number six thirteen didn’t look any different than any other door in this place. After knocking firmly, Pierre stood back and waited, his eyes shifting from side to side, unable to prevent himself from scanning the corridor for trouble. Faint sounds from behind the door made him turn, and he held in a sigh of impatience as he heard the tumbling clicks of numerous locks. The scarred portal pulled open, only a few inches, held in place by a security chain, a joke considering he could snap it without even trying.

A pale oval face peered at him, the bright blue eyes regarding him with suspicion.

As if punched in the gut, Pierre gaped in surprise. Of all the things to hide behind the door, she wasn’t what he’d expected, but he recognized her from the yearbook photos. “Are you Mina?”

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested. Have a good day.”

As she went to close the door, Pierre blurted. “But I’ve been looking for you.”

She paused, and a crease marred her brow. “Looking for me? What for? Who are you?”

He debated lying, anything to get her to open the door, but her expressive face, which flitted between fear and suspicion, made him go with honesty. “I’m Pierre, Remy’s father.”

Her eyes widened, and he didn’t miss the tremble of her lips. “Sorry. I don’t know who that is.” She moved to close the door, but Pierre slipped his hand through the crack and stopped her.

“What are you doing? Get your fingers out of there. I don’t want to hurt you.” Panic threaded her words.

“Then let me in. I just want to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Mama.”

The child’s voice sent a frisson down Pierre’s back.
It can’t be. Not from one time.
“Whose child is that?” he whispered.

“My—my husband’s,” she replied in a quaver that screamed lie.

Done playing games, Pierre pushed at the door, wrenching it inward and snapping the chain. A sharp cry escaped from Mina’s lips as she went stumbling back, the scent of her fear flooding the small place. Pierre stepped into her apartment as she whirled and gathered a small child to her. A child with cocoa-colored skin.

Heart racing, his head spinning, Pierre softly shut the door before swallowing and speaking. “What’s his name?”

“None of your business,” she bravely stated, even though he could see every inch of her quivering with anxiety.

Anger intermixed with anguish made Pierre’s voice tight. “I’d say the fact he’s my grandson makes him my business.”

At least she didn’t deny it any further. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please, you can’t take him from me. He’s all I have.”

“I would never do that!” Indignation made his words emerge sharply, and she flinched. “I’m sorry. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here? What do you want with me? With my son?”