Mated To The Devil (9 page)

“They could come back.” Pierre regretted his honesty the moment the words left his lips.

Mina recoiled, her grasp around Jacques tightening. The boy didn’t say a word, but Pierre couldn’t miss the bristling tension of his body. He expected a flood of tears, maybe anger at the situation. Instead, he got weary resignation.

“It’s not safe here anymore, is it?” she asked, raising her head to meet his eyes.

The dullness of her eyes and tone made something snap in him. Tempering his anger took strength of will because a part of him wanted to hunt down the bastards who’d finally broken this courageous woman, hunt them and kill them. But, despite his instinct and his snarling wolf, he controlled his wilder side even as it killed him to see how this planned act of violence broke some of her fighting spirit. How dare someone hurt her like this? His inner beast wanted to repair Mina’s shattered hope and put the stubborn shine back in her eyes, but somehow he didn’t think the violent solution his beast proposed would accomplish much, other than appease his seething rage. He stuck to answering her question instead of seeking revenge. “Safe? It’s never safe for our kind outside the pack. If you ask my professional opinion, I get the feeling someone’s caught on to your secret and was looking to extract you both.”

“For what?”

“Testing. Study. Whatever it is the doctors do when they discover a new species.”

“Use us as lab rats? But nobody knew. I didn’t even know until . . . ” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes grew wide. “Dr. Moireau. I told him about Jacques’ problem. But he told me he could help us. That he’d seen this condition before. And he’s a doctor. They’re sworn to confidentiality.”

“Oaths are sometimes broken,” he replied even as he mentally stored the name. He’d check on the doctor when he got back home. “Did you tell anyone else?”

She shook her head. “No. I was too scared something like this would happen. I thought I was being paranoid. I should have listened to my gut. I need to move, don’t I? Hide so they can’t find us again.”

Pierre wanted to cheer that she’d come to the realization on her own. He really hated arguing with women. But now for the next step in his plan. Convincing her to return with him to the pack. “You need to come live with the pack.”

“But what will we do for a place to live? I can’t afford much, as you’ve noticed.”

“You wouldn’t have to. You’ve already got a home waiting for you.”

A line appeared across her brow. “What do you mean?”

“My place has some unused bedrooms that you and Jacques can use. Not to mention lots of outdoor space, including an old tree house that with a little TLC would be perfect for a growing boy who likes to climb.”

“And what about Remy?”

“The house is big enough for all of us.”

She chewed her lip. Pierre restrained an urge to shake her. “I have a little money saved. I could stay in a motel until I found a place to live, somewhere we won’t be a burden.”

Affronted, Pierre scowled, and Jacques, sensing his annoyance, turned his head in his direction and bared his teeth. Pierre ignored him for the moment. “You aren’t a burden. I’ve got two empty bedrooms with beds, or if you’re worried about the boy, you can share one. My kitchen is always stocked with food, more than enough to feed two more mouths.” Indecision still clouded her gaze. Reining in a sigh, Pierre resorted to something he didn’t do often. He asked instead of ordered. And he did it nicely. “Please, let me help you.”

“What if it doesn’t work out? What if I want to leave?”

Forget holding it anymore. Sighing, Pierre scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Girl, you are more stubborn than a mule. Would you just say yes and give it a chance? I promise you this is best for both you and the boy.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Give it a month. If after thirty days you still want to leave, I’ll find you somewhere safe and I’ll drive you there myself.” He sat back on his heels and watched as the wheels of her mind turned, her expressive face showing the train of her thoughts.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

How indeed? After what he’d discovered of her family and their treatment of her, it didn’t surprise him that she would question his honor and motives.

“I know you don’t know me, but you have to believe me when I say, from this moment on, I would die before I let any harm come to you and the boy. If you refuse to leave, then I guess I’m staying, because they’ll be back. I just hope that I can hold them off by myself. I am an old man, you know.” He clutched at his back, and Dean snickered from where he stood watching, the first sound he’d made since Pierre’s arrival.

The corner of her lips twitched as she fought a smile. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

“I’m trying to show you reason. And maybe asking for a little trust. I know it’s not easy, that you’ve not had it easy. But you need to believe me when I say it doesn’t have to be that way. Where I want to take you, just about everyone knows our secret and will act as a shield to protect you and your boy. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. Let us help you.”

“It would be nice to not be scared,” she quietly admitted.

Damn it all, if Pierre didn’t get that hiccup in his ticker again. Damn the girl for tugging at his heart strings! Bless her for awakening it again. It gave an old man renewed spirit for the future. “Fine. You win, but only because we don’t seem to have much of a choice for the moment. Jacques, want to go for a car ride?” she asked her son in a bright, if tremulous, voice.

And thus, less than an hour later, bags of clothing and toys packed, apartment semi-tidied, Pierre found himself en route with Mina and Jacques. Dean stayed behind to finish the cleanup—also known as packing up her meager gear—because over his dead body would she return. Pierre also wanted the pack member to keep an eye on her old place in case someone showed up, someone who could give him some answers.

Glancing at Mina from time to time, her lower lip tucked between her teeth, her hands clutching each other in an unbreakable vise, Pierre held in a chuckle.

Remy’s gonna shit a brick when he sees Mina and her surprise.
A nicer father would have given his son some warning, but given Remy’s zombielike state of the last few years, Pierre figured a shock like this was just what his son needed to get going again.
Time he got his ass out of remorseland and into the real world. Time he became the leader he’s supposed to be.

Chapter Nine

The scenery flew by, and questions, along with trepidation, mounted inside Mina.
Am I doing the right thing? What on earth was I thinking? How can I face Remy?
Face him and discover once and for all if her built-up pedestal of the man—devil—would survive or come tumbling down. Would he hate her for having his son without his knowledge? Would he be hurt? Then there were the more shallow musings such as would he still think her pretty? Did he have a girlfriend?

“I can see the smoke coming from your ears,” Pierre quietly said.

“I’m just thinking.”

“More like worrying. Why don’t you lay some of those anxieties on me, see if I can relieve them.”

Some were too private—and shameful—but others spilled forth from her lips. “Is everyone in this town where you’re taking me a werewolf?”

A chuckle made his whole body shake. “No, not everyone is a Lycan. Actually, none of the females carry the gene. Lycanthropy is a male-dominated trait.”

“So what are the women then?” she asked, absently rubbing at her scar.

“The women are special. Mostly human, but with a few extra traits.”

“And we get like this from being bitten?”

“We call the bite the mating mark. It’s a physical joining of a human female and a Lycan. Let me rewind a moment, though. See, you have to understand, this type of thing doesn’t just happen to just anyone. Our kind is very particular about who we choose to mate with. When a male finds the one he’s destined to be with, he courts her, earns her trust and love, and then, with her permission and understanding, he bites her, which binds them together. They become mates, married in the eyes of the pack, for life.”

Married?
Mina almost laughed. Wouldn’t her very religious father die of an apoplexy at the thought? She well knew his views on what he considered pagan rituals. Somehow she doubted the Lycan version of marriage would sway him from the belief his daughter was a whore and her bastard son the progeny of the devil. “One bite and someone’s married? I guess Remy screwed up while he was drunk then,” she replied with a giggle that emerged high-pitched.

Serious brown eyes, with hints of yellow, turned her way. “While Remy might have let alcohol sway his better judgment and mark you without following our rituals or asking permission, he was not mistaken. You are his mate.”

A shiver went through her. “What does that mean, though? You say we’re married, even though I never agreed and don’t know him. I hope you don’t expect me to just suddenly fall into his bed and . . . uh . . . ” She trailed off, the heat rising in her cheeks as she struggled to put in words the fact she wouldn’t sleep with Remy. What a messed-up conversation to have with his dad.

Pierre didn’t seem to have any such problem. “In the eyes of the pack, you are married, but that said, I doubt he’ll expect you to just jump in the sack. Like I said, under usual circumstances, my son would have courted you until you fell in love, then he would have told you his secret before marking you. It’s how we’ve been doing it for hundreds of years.”

Centuries? How did an entire species exist without the world knowing? Well, technically the world knew of werewolves, they just didn’t believe in them. How confusing. And just how much of what she’d read and seen in the media was real and what wasn’t? So many questions she need to ask, but for the moment she had a more pressing concern. Her supposed marriage to a stranger. Her devil—
husband
—with the glowing eyes. “You make it sound like it’s always a sure thing. What happens if a girl says no? I mean, surely not all the women say yes after hearing their boyfriend’s a werewolf.” What happened if a guy screwed up and got drunk and bit the wrong girl? Because no matter what Pierre might want her to think, love had very little to do with the night Mina and Remy got together.

“The mating bond is quite strong so what you speak of very rarely happens. In all my years, I only recall one incident.”

“And what happened?”

Pierre’s lips drew together in a tight line. “Let’s just say it didn’t end well. But as I said, it’s rare.”

“I see. Well, just so it’s understood, bite mark or not, I have no intention of hopping into bed with your son and acting like we’re married and living happily ever after.” Now if only saying it wouldn’t bring images to mind, naughty images of a night she couldn’t forget. She clutched the cross around her neck in a white fist as she tried to find the words to a prayer, any prayer, to make the wickedness—
oh, sweet, sinful heat
—in her head go away.

“Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want. Mated or not, if Remy wants you at his side, then he will have to turn back the clock and give you the proper courting you deserve.”

“But I don’t want him to court me.”

“If you say so, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. What of Jacques, though? What will you tell him? Will you tell him the truth? Every child deserves to know his father.” They both turned to look at the little boy curled up in the back, asleep with his thumb tucked in his mouth, a bad habit she didn’t have the heart to break.

As usual when she gazed upon her son, her heart softened, her love for him fierce and unwavering. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Everything is happening so fast, and I want to do what’s right for Jacques. I know he needs a father or at least some kind of male influence in his life. However, it frightens me, too. I don’t want to see him hurt. I’ve seen too many children rejected by a parent.”

“Remy would never do that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I know my son. He just wouldn’t.”

“Have you told him about Jacques?”

“No. I haven’t said a word to him. Not about you or your son. I’d say that explanation will take care of itself once they meet.”

Mina winced. Spring daddyhood on him without warning? “Won’t he be angry?” Pierre never seemed to sugar-coat the truth. She’d yet to decide if she liked that about him or not.

“Yes, he’ll probably be pissed.”

Her shoulders slumped.
Great.
Another person to hate her. This time her own husband. Things just got better and better.

Pierre hastened to add, “He won’t be mad at you, but mostly at himself for having screwed up so royally. Remy’s spent the years since that night regretting his actions.”

Of course he did. She shrunk tighter.

“Dammit, I’m not explaining myself right,” Pierre groaned. “Mina, he regrets losing you, not the fact that you met or that he bit you. He never regretted that, but he does kick himself for moving so fast and for not even getting your name. He regrets not getting to woo and date you. Buying chocolates and dinner, flowers and other shit like he should have. He regrets being so drunk that he lost control and you know, did what he did. He most especially regrets losing you.”

“If he has so many regrets, then why didn’t he find me?” Surely that soft pathetic inquiry didn’t come from her lips?

“He tried, but didn’t get far.”

“But you knew who I was. You found me.”

“By accident. I took over the search from my son, having vaster resources at hand, but you hid well.”

“I didn’t hide.”

“Not intentionally perhaps, but it’s hard to trace someone when they don’t leave a trail and your family wasn’t exactly forthcoming about your whereabouts.”

“They have no idea where I am. They kicked me out when they found out about my pregnancy and cut off all contact. After Jacques was born, I thought they might relent. Stupid me, I showed up at their door with him, thinking that seeing his sweet, innocent face would make a difference, but that didn’t go so well. I haven’t spoken to or seen them since.”

“I’m sorry.”