Scarred (17 page)

“He is
not
his father's son,” I snarled. “And if you knew anything about him at all, you would know that.”

“And if
you
knew anything about him at all, you'd know that I was right, my dear.” He shifted his weight forward in his seat, angling himself toward me in an intimidating way.“You're an
RB
,” he said with a strange intensity, and it snapped me upright in my chair. “Hasn't been one of your kind breathing for a long, long time. I think you know the reason
why
all too well, though you seem to conveniently ignore it.”

I wanted to leave, but seemed utterly unable to do it. Who was this mysterious man who knew so much about me? And better yet, how could he know what I was?

“I think you’d best stay sitting in that seat and hear me out, young lady,” he said, pinning me to my station with his eyes. For a moment, I couldn’t say a word―not even to argue, which was a gift that had never abandoned me. Not until that day. I sat as I was told and stared at that stunning man who wasn’t at all what he appeared to be.

All I
wanted
to do was run.

“You seem to draw quite a crowd, Ruby,” he said, a curl starting at the corner of his mouth. “I haven't seen Ares in centuries.”

“I'd like to not see him for that long,” I muttered without thinking.

“I wouldn't count on that one. When he gets something in his head that he wants, he will have it come hell or high water. You'd be wise to remember that.”

“I'd be wise to do a lot of things,” I countered, mirroring his gaze.

“Might I suggest you add avoiding the Rev to that list?”

“Wait a minute...you know him too?” I cried, snapping upright in my seat so fast that my towel fell to the floor. I didn't bother to pick it up; I wasn't planning on staying long.

Gavin said nothing, but his face told me all I needed to know.

“Did you know what he was doing?” I asked, my voice laden with disbelief. “That he's been killing all those women?”

Nothing.

“How could you sit back and let them die? Put this whole town at risk?” I yelled, blood burning my cheeks as my anger quickly built. A pain through my stomach reminded me of something else he may have known. “If you’ve been stalking me all this time, did you know about Gregory? The psychotic Alpha who nearly gutted me alive?” I asked, eyes narrowing on him like a predator. “Did you leave me to my fate with him too?”

His pale skin flared red. His temper was rising.

“Aye. I knew about the Rev and did nothing, but there would be reasons for that that you wouldn't comprehend, lass,” he said, a slight lilt affecting his speech. “And as for the other man, I knew nothing of him, so don't be blaming me for whatever he's done to ya.”

I wanted to punch him in his face; the desire to do so was only fueled by Scarlet's growls echoing resoundingly in my head. She was not enjoying our little conversation any more than I was.

I don't care for this one, Ruby. Might I suggest that he get to the point soon? He doesn't want me to get testy, and I'm halfway there now.

“Fine,” I snapped, addressing both of them with that single word. “I don't blame you for what's happened to me, so don't freak out about that. He got what he had coming to him―in a
big
way,” I growled, “but as for the Rev, you'll have to live with yourself for the next millennia or so. That blood is on
your
hands, not mine. Standing by and doing nothing makes you complicit. I don't care about whatever reasons you had.”

I made my way to the door, wanting to get out of there before tempers escalated any higher, and Scarlet made an appearance. No matter how much Gavin knew, or thought he knew, he wasn't prepared to deal with her. Nobody was.

“Ruby,” Ginger said softly from behind her husband, “please let him explain some things before you leave. Gavin is
complicated
. It sometimes makes his actions or inactions hard to comprehend.”

“I fail to see how
anything
could keep him from helping those women,” I said with barely bridled anger. “And how do you know all this stuff anyway? About me? Sean? The Rev...?”

“Please,” Ginger said with a sympathetic smile. “Sit. He'll tell you what you need to know.”

Conceding to her request, I returned to my seat. Scarlet was displeased, but kept her commentary to a minimum. It seemed she too wanted answers more than a fight―for once.

Ginger whispered softly in his ear, calming him. Gavin's pallor returned quickly thereafter, as did his American accent. His youthful appearance, however, remained very much the same.

“I'm not going to go into all the fine details,” he started, his eyes still furious, “not tonight, but I'll give you the gist of it.” He sat down slowly across from me, folding his frame into the chair smoothly. “I'm a werewolf, same as you, but I was infected—not born. I also seem to have some different...
gifts
, as it were.”

“
Gifts?
Like morphing into an old man? I’d say that’s a little more than a
gift
.”

“Are you talking or listening?” he asked, his face tight with anger. My petulance was scoring me no points with the enigmatic man. “We’re anomalies of sorts, you and I. You're an RB. I'm...well, we’ll say I’m a special case.”

“Meaning?”

“Amongst our kind, there are legends…
tales
of the one who can walk in many forms—many faces. He is known as the Chameleon,” he explained, eying me tightly. “I am he. I have the ability to blend in—go unnoticed, and I’ve been doing that for longer than you could fathom to stay alive.”

“Sounds a little like someone else I know,” I said, thinking of the one who had just tried to drown me. My hair bristled at the thought.

“Unlike the Rev,” he started, seeing my obvious conclusion, “whose abilities stem from his human training in the CIA getting amped up by his Change, mine were an aftereffect.”

“And that's why you can change your appearance?”

“Yes.”

I cocked my head to the side slightly, trying to figure something out.

“So this is the
real
you?”

“Yes.”

“How do I know that?”

“This is his true appearance, Ruby,” Ginger said softly from a darkened corner of the room. “And how I’ve known him for decades.”

I looked at him curiously before asking my next question. “So why masquerade as an old guy?” He looked back over his shoulder at Ginger and I nearly smacked myself in the head; it was thick enough that it wouldn't have hurt. “You're
human
,” I said, more statement than question as I looked over at a teary Ginger.

“I am,” she whispered. “And his
wife
.” She extended her hand to me to cement the formal introduction. “I fell in love with him when I was young. By the time he trusted me enough to tell me what he was, it was
years
later—and too late. I was in too deep.” Gavin got up and went to her, wrapping his young, muscular arms around her weathered frame.

“He wouldn't try to Change me,” she offered shyly. “He said it was far too dangerous.”

I didn't know this man, or trust him entirely for that matter, but there was something comforting in knowing that he had the good sense not to try and infect her. Though enigmatic and self-serving, he clearly wasn't entirely selfish.

“I was only sixteen when we met―a scandalous age, even in those times,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Ginger wasn't afraid to skirt the rules to get what she wanted in the name of love. “Anyway, we kept our love a secret for over a year. One night, he came to take me from my father's farm. We escaped together and have been inseparable since. He promised me the world, and I believed him,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “I was barely eighteen years old, but I knew. I knew I couldn't be without him. We haven't been apart since that day.”

He reached over gently and took her hand, kissing it delicately before wrapping it in his. The love I felt emanating from him nearly bowled me over. That love was peppered with a pain that I could only imagine, accompanying the knowledge that she would one day be gone and he would mourn her for centuries. The pain and suffering he would endure was beyond my comprehension, and the thought of it knotted my stomach.

“Don't look so sad, dear,” Ginger said, having easily read my emotions. “I've had an amazing life with him. I wouldn't change a thing.”

“It doesn't seem fair,” I whispered.

“Love rarely is, Ruby. True love comes to you when you least expect it, smacks you upside the head, and takes you prisoner. You can deny it, but you can't escape it. If it's meant to be, it will be,” she added, giving Gavin's hand a squeeze. “He is mine, and I am his.”

Fire shot down my spine and I jumped up from my seat, startling the couple in front of me. “I have to go,” I said, staring blankly at the door before running toward it.

“Ruby,” Gavin shouted after me, barely catching my arm before I was through the exit. “I didn't kill him. He's still out there.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “Where did he go?”

“I don't know,” he said, furrowing his brow slightly. “He wasn't my top priority at the time. Saving you was.”

“Oh,” I whispered, trying to elegantly free my arm from his firm, but friendly, grasp.

“If you hadn't left your boots on the dock...,” he started, his expression rather pained.

“Thank you,” I said, realizing that in all that had happened that night―all the mystery and unanswered questions―he
had
saved my life. That said something about him and his interests, and it deserved my gratitude.

“You're welcome,” he replied with a nod.

“And you're welcome here anytime, Ruby,” Ginger added. “For any reason.”

“Thank you,” I said, turning to leave. “I'm sorry, but I really have to go. I have to see someone.”

“Be careful,” Gavin warned, following behind me down the dock.

“I'll be fine,” I called over my shoulder, before breaking into a sprint toward town. “There's something I have to do.”

“Remember what I’ve told you,” he shouted after me, his voice echoing off the buildings I ran towards. Remembering wasn’t the issue. Forgetting
was
.

I prayed a silent prayer in my mind that I was right. Knowing that the Rev was still out there, looming over the city, was nearly enough to deter my mission, but I wouldn't let fear drive my actions.

Not fear of the Rev.

Not fear of Gavin’s warnings.

Not fear of the unknown.

The sky that had been threatening to rain all day opened wide and poured down violently on Portsmouth. I dodged through the streets, virtually empty by that point, with the exception of a few other stragglers who got caught in the storm, seeking shelter. It was only a few blocks, but it seemed like miles, taking
forever
to get there. There were things I needed to say—things he needed to hear—and all were long overdue. From that night forward, I would choose my path and not look back, consequences be damned.

I hoped he would be as on board with my plan as I was.

Hovering outside his door, I was terribly anxious and already second-guessing myself. Near-death experiences brought about intense emotions, not all of which were attached to well-thought-out, rational actions. That realization brought pause to the execution of my plan.

I looked down at myself, assessing my state, which was a very attractive combination of soaking wet, shivering, and hopelessly disheveled. Maybe that wasn't the best presentation for professing your love to someone. Lack of self-confidence crept in, and I subconsciously took a step backwards away from the door.

A new plan flashed through my mind, consisting of a quiet retreat down the stairs and me forgetting that any of it had ever happened. He didn't
really
need to know how I felt—the status quo wasn't such a horrible option. It may have bred tension and animosity, but those things were familiar; I could deal with them.

Vulnerability, I could not.

Not the real, true, naked, lay-it-all-out-on-the-line vulnerability. That was more than I could do. Maybe it was change I feared, but either way, I was halfway down the stairs when I heard the latch on the apartment door click and the knob squeak as it turned. Fate stepped in on my cowardly behalf.

The universe really did hate me.

I picked up speed quietly, about to round the corner to the next flight of stairs when Sean called out after me.

“Ruby, where are you going?”

With my back toward him, I cringed to myself. I was
totally
busted. There was nothing to do but turn back. If I had run, he’d have only chased me down. I looked up to face him, offering a shy smile, then climbed my way back up to the landing I'd just fled.

“
Nowhere
.”

“That didn't look like 'nowhere' to me. It looked a lot more like leaving.”