Hot Blooded (Page 3)
Devon nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I’m not sure what to believe. The reasoning that these old tales were actually about a female is thin. I don’t have to remind you now is not a good time to find out I’m some reincarnate of an all-powerful she-wolf who is supposed to dole out justice to the supernatural world.” Was there a good time to hear something like that? “Among other things, I have an angry police detective tied up in the other room I might actually have to kill.” I slid my fingertips to the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “This is all so insane.”
I was more rattled hearing this news than I cared to admit. During my first few days as the only full-blooded female werewolf in the world I’d been ruthlessly attacked in my own home, turned on by my own kind, bound by a goddess who had stolen my mate—who was a werecat of unknown origin—and taken prisoner by a cranky Vampire Queen—whom I’d sworn an oath to that could get me killed. If this so-called Prophecy was true, it was going to stir up a maelstrom once it spread through the preternatural grapevine—if it hadn’t already. Who knew who already possessed this information? We could’ve been the last to receive it on purpose. It didn’t bode well that the stinky imp this morning had hinted about it. And if that little ass**le knew, there was a chance they all knew.
“Jessica,” my father said as he stood. “We will handle this. It’s not ideal, but we will persevere as we always have. We are wolves. And wolves fight. We will win.”
“I’m leaving town in less than five hours.” I glanced at my wrist, even though I hadn’t worn a watch in years. I gazed across the room and met my father’s eyes, my blood jumping with his anxiety, mixed with a hefty dose of my own. “I can’t even begin to process everything this quickly. I’m going to need more time.”
“Well,” Devon interrupted, “there may be an upside to all this after all.” He swiped a bead of sweat off his brow. “It’s much better than finding out the Cain Myth is true. At least with you being the True Lycan, we know you’re not the real Daughter of Cain. I mean, right there, that should calm down some of the wolves, don’t you think?” He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Right?”
I shot him a dangerous glare. Devon wasn’t a wolf. He was a human Essential to the Pack, brought in for his technical savvy. He was a nice guy and completely loyal to Pack, but I wasn’t interested. “Yes,” I answered. “Because my new job of vanquishing all evil is much easier to swallow. The demons already seem incredibly fond of me, and the Vamp Queen can’t wait to get me back in her clutches. My life is bound to improve now that my righteous hand is cocked and ready to kill anyone up to no good, which pretty much describes just about everyone in the entire supernatural race.”
2
“Devon,” my father ordered. “Leave us now.”
Devon jumped out of his seat, grabbing his computer and knocking over an empty coffee cup in his haste. The clatter mimicked how my brain felt inside. My wolf gave a low growl. I know. This is a lot and we need to get moving. She yipped her agreement.
When the door shut behind him I let out the long sigh I’d been holding where I stood. “When did you suspect I was different?” I asked my father quietly. “Once I changed, you had to have had some idea I was not like the others.”
My father turned and walked around the table to a bank of high windows that ran across the conference room wall. He raked one of his hands through his dark hair, his arm flexing tightly, straining his blue work shirt taut, staring straight ahead. “I didn’t know for sure until the night you fought the rogue. Before then I only suspected.”
I dropped my tired body into a chair. My mind felt like a crowded elevator, unable to squeeze in one more piece of information. The weight of Rourke’s absence pushed down on me, crushing something vital inside. I craved him in a way I couldn’t adequately express. In a way that tested the boundaries of attachment. I had enough to worry about. There was no extra space for fantastical stories about my true freakish identity.
But instead of a tirade, I said nothing and waited for my father to continue. I needed to hear his side.
“When the Cain Myth was first delivered to the Compound, there was an uprising,” he began. “You have to understand the safety concerns, Jessica, if nothing else. You were only an infant. I quelled it quickly and with extreme force. I made a vow to protect you. I vowed it to myself and to your mother, rest her soul.” My mother had died in childbirth. Delivering one wolf was tricky, but twins was impossible. I’d been told it’d been amazing she’d been able to carry my brother and me to term. Annie McClain had been a fighter until the end. “To be clear, I never believed for a single second the Cain Myth to be true. You were my daughter, my own flesh and blood. But convincing the wolves had been much harder than I’d ever expected. Fear overwhelmed any rational explanations when it came to you. As you grew up, you were a constant reminder to them that something was wrong.” He turned to me. “I desperately wanted you to stay human. I knew if you ever shifted in to a wolf, it would be something that would turn the supernatural community inside out. You’re my daughter and all I’ve ever wanted was to protect you.”
I lifted my head and stared at my father. Our irises each glowed a matching violet, bonding us like nothing else in this world could. This was the parent who had raised me, who’d given me unconditional love. I couldn’t argue with that. “I understand what you’re saying,” I said slowly, feeling more resolved. “I know all the decisions you made were made out of love and all of those events have led us here. But if you believe the Prophecy to be true, it has to be founded in something concrete. I need to understand as much as I can before I leave and I only have a little time left.” I refrained from looking at my nonexistent watch for a second time.
He exhaled and stared at the ground for a moment. When he lifted his head I caught a glimpse of his true age. It lingered in the creases of his tired eyes, but it was gone in the next blink. “When you shifted the first time, I knew something was different. When your wolf signaled your change, alerting us with her beacon, it was a call made by your wolf to aid you. That has never happened in over five centuries of my rule. A normal wolf alert is primal and wild. Yours was not. It carried intelligence. In our oldest writings they talk of our Lycan ancestors being able to cohabitate with their wolves peacefully, that each side cooperated with the other to become one perfect supernatural—strong, powerful, and unparalleled. Then you blocked me repeatedly and could hold your suspended form, something no other wolf can do. It became very clear you were something else. After reading the lines of the Prophecy and remembering the hearth tales about the Y Gwir Lycae I’d heard as a lad, I realized it fit. You’re more than just one of our ancestors, Jessica. I can feel it in my bones and see it with my own eyes. There’s a reason a female was born to us. Fate does not get such things wrong.”