Part 15 (1/2)

”He's cursed,” William said. ”Prim's work. The Chala has claimed him.”

Gavin bristled. ”If anyone is doing any claiming, it's me,” he growled.

”Later, sweetie,” Sydney said, as she patted his chest and then wandered off to inspect the rest of the house.

William glanced at Killian when Gavin smirked, but the other Fate did no more than glower at the cursed Rakshasa.

Killian's home had a dining room with a long plank wood table that seated twenty. They would have to eat in s.h.i.+fts, which was fine, since Gavin required no less than ten s.h.i.+fters to be on guard duty round the clock.

Killian insisted he didn't cook, which left William to resume cooking duties in his stead.

Killian also insisted upon sitting at the head of his own table, and he glared at Gavin, who was seated at the other end, gnawing on a rib bone.

”What I don't get is why all these Light Ones are blindly following you, when you used to go around killing them all the time.”

Gavin lifted a bottle of beer to his lips and steadily regarded the Fate. ”Actually, it was their Chala I used to go around killing, as well as the humans they pledged to protect. And I did that for less than two hundred years. For the past two hundred, I've been killing my own kind, on behalf of the Light Ones. By my own estimation, I've killed ten times as many Rakshasa as Chala.”

An uncomfortable quiet fell over the table, as everyone digested this information. Sydney had a.s.sumed everyone knew about Gavin's past, but the absolute silence told her otherwise. She wondered how this would affect the dynamics of the pack.

”Where's Jack?” someone asked, breaking the silence. ”I haven't seen him or Nate since we left Michigan.”

Sydney swiftly glanced at Gavin, who furrowed his brow and scanned the room, as if he expected Jack and Nate to suddenly appear. When they didn't, he pushed away from the table and strode through the doorway leading into the main great room, where the group tended to gather when they weren't patrolling or practicing or sleeping.

He returned a short time later, looking grim. ”Send out search parties. Retrace our tracks. Find them. I want to know where they are, and I want to know if we were followed.”

The news came two days later, and it wasn't good. ”Jack's dead,” Quentin reported sadly. ”I found his body in a ditch by the side of the road, near the last exit before we entered Arkansas. No sign of Nate.”

Or Brandon, Sydney thought, as fear and guilt wrapped oily fingers around her heart and squeezed. She choked on a sob and rushed from the room. Gavin hunted her down less than half an hour later. He found her tucked into a crevice created by two large rocks that had at some point collapsed against each other on the bank of the wide, shallow stream running through Killian's yard.

”You okay?” he asked, as he stepped onto one of the rocks and then lightly leaped to the ground in front of her. He was more like a cat than a dog. All sleek and s.e.xy and light on his feet. And he was about to hate her.

”I screwed up, Gavin.” She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.

”What now?”

”I killed Jack and probably Nate.”

”How?” He sounded confused.

She turned her head to the side. ”I captured Brandon, back at Hilde's. He was there, fighting. I came up behind him, ambushed him, and dragged him back to the house and locked him in the cellar.”

”Son of a b.i.t.c.h. No wonder I couldn't find him. I've had scouts looking for him since that night he betrayed us, and you've had him hidden right under our noses this whole time?”

”I suppose it's good there are so many s.h.i.+fters around. Otherwise you might have noticed his scent.”

”I don't think we see this in quite the same light.”

She burst into tears. She couldn't help it. The idea that Gavin might hate her, combined with knowing she was responsible for Jack's death, was too overwhelming. She should have told Gavin when she captured Brandon. Maybe Gavin wouldn't have killed him, like she'd feared.

Gavin went perfectly still. He was so still he might not have even been breathing. ”How do you figure you killed Jack and possibly Nate?”

”I a.s.signed them to bring Brandon with us, after everyone else left. I didn't know what else to do.”

”Telling me comes to mind,” Gavin said deliberately. ”And if not that, at least you could have a.s.signed two more seasoned s.h.i.+fters to such a dangerous task.” He dropped to the ground next to her. ”I'm going to take a wild guess here and say you thought you could redeem him.”

Sydney sniffled and nodded.

Gavin shook his head. ”I killed his mother. More than two hundred years ago. That's a lot of built-up anger and resentment.”

Sydney's tears dried instantly as she widened her eyes and stared up at him. ”You really did kill his mother?”

”Probably. He said she was a Chala.”

”He wouldn't tell me. I questioned him, after I captured him, and he refused to admit it. I heard part of your conversation out in the woods, enough to be suspicious, but I still wanted him to confirm it. And he wouldn't.”

”That's interesting. He could have easily driven a wedge between us during that conversation, I'd wager.”

”No, he couldn't. No one can. Ever.” Her words were infused with the confidence she held. If there was one thing she was absolutely sure of in this world, it was her love for Gavin. His past was just that-the past. All they could do now was move forward. Together.

”Fa-Christ, Sydney,” he said, catching himself before he accidentally summoned William. ”You should have told me.”

”You would have killed him.”

”Probably. But then he'd be dead and Jack and Nate would still be alive, now, wouldn't they?”

A sob escaped her, and Gavin sighed, pulling her into his arms.

”I can't make the guilt go away, Sydney. If I knew how to do that, I'd certainly be a happier individual. The only thing you can do is manage it, and not let it eat you alive.” He paused, and considered. ”No doubt he managed to find out where we were headed, before he killed them. Who knew a Light One could go so d.a.m.n bad?”

”He's just angry,” Sydney said. ”And frustrated. He kept telling me that you and I couldn't be mates, because you're a Rakshasa. I know he was just saying it because he was trying to get under my skin.”

Sydney felt his entire body go rigid, but before she could read anything into the subtle body language, he stood and helped her to her feet.

”We aren't running this time. Instead, we stay, and we fight. And you are going to keep yourself out of harm's way, do you understand me?”

”You don't really believe I'll do that, do you?”

The next day, Gavin summoned the entire pack out to a clearing in the far back corner of Killian's property, on the other side of the stream. Considering it was still fairly chilly, he heard a great deal of grumbling as they waded through the water to get to their new practice area. Yet within minutes, the group stood in perfect rows, facing him, arms at their sides, eyes focused, minds cleared. He'd made an army, and he was d.a.m.n proud. Now he only hoped what they'd learned about him would not destroy what he'd built. It couldn't. Sydney's life was at stake.

”I called you here today for two reasons.” He caught a glimpse of Sydney out of the corner of his eye. Instead of standing in line with the rest, she'd stepped away, to stand at his side. He couldn't decide if he liked that or if it would only make things worse. If Sydney couldn't follow his direction, why would anyone else?

”First, to tell you that yes, what you heard at dinner last night is correct. I am a Rakshasa.” He heard the rustling, saw the doubt in some of their eyes.

”Was,” he corrected. ”I was cursed two hundred years ago. And I have been fighting your fight ever since. Our fight. I am just as much a Light One as any of you, now. I am your Chala's mate. I think that alone speaks volumes.”