Page 3 of Skin and Bones


  “How well do you know Sarge?”

  The question seemed to startle Ever after the long, uncomfortable silence. Derek had barely opened his mouth as they’d trudged their way through traffic. She stole a peek at him, and he felt her curiosity heightened as she ran her haunting blue eyes over him. The possibility of being so close to a wolf would be too much of a draw for a scholar like Ever. She surveyed him now like he imagined she would a textbook—hungry, fascinated, and eager to devour all she could.

  Ever swept her hair off her shoulder and smiled as she spoke. “I’ve known Tom since forever. Tom asked my parents if they wanted to adopt me when I was abandoned as an infant. Because of him, I grew up in a loving home with parents who adored me. He’s my godfather in every aspect… like my uncle.”

  The tension that had caused Derek’s knuckles to whiten as he drove seemed alleviated somewhat by her words, and Ever relaxed into the luxury of his car. Comforting black leather that shouldn’t have been as soft as it was allowed her to snuggle into the seat, and when she sighed, his wolf echoed her sigh, delighting in bringing her pleasure.

  “Someone abandoned you at birth?” Derek asked, a slight edge in his voice.

  Ever shrugged her shoulders. “It’s something I came to terms with a long time ago. My parents were open and honest about how I came into their lives, and I’ve only ever felt grateful to whoever it was who felt they could not keep me. I had a wonderful childhood and an amazing life. What do I have to complain about?”

  As the car came to a halt in the midst of the jam-packed traffic, Derek opened the window and exhaled. He looked over at her then, and he felt the slight amber slip into his eyes that betrayed him as a deadly predator.

  “I’m surprised, Ms. Chace, that you have such a positive outlook on your past. I feel slightly envious.”

  “Ever,” she said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Her lips tugged up into a smile. When she smiled, her whole face lit up in a radiant, otherworldly beauty that caused Derek’s heart to skip a beat. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but every minute he was near Ever Chace, he liked her more and more.

  “Call me Ever,” she replied, warmth in her voice. “If my students get away with calling me Ever, then there’s no need for the Ms. Chace bit from you—makes me feel old!”

  Derek chuckled for the briefest of seconds before he caught himself, and Ever watched as something flashed over his features before disappearing. He saw her struggle not to giggle as his jaw ticked, and he didn’t blame her. As Ricky often put it, Derek liked to pretend he was closed off and abrupt, laughing very little and smiling even less. But somehow, this siren had pulled from him a laugh that was usually reserved for his friends and family.

  “If I’m to call you Ever, then I insist you call me Derek. Seems only fair.” His own words shocked him, the slightly teasing tone shocking him even more.

  Derek edged the car forward at a break in traffic. His wolf stretched out in his mind, at ease with whatever it was that made Ever have this effect on him. He could hear the rapid beat of her pulse as she studied him, his wolf preening at her inspection. Down boy. Keep your head in the game.

  His wolf snorted at him and shook out its fur. Derek felt eager to know all about the girl—no, the woman. The little smidge of information she’d shared was not enough for the man.

  “What made you want to specialize in paranormal studies, especially in paranormal offenders?”

  Ever leaned forward in her seat and rested her chin in her hands. “My parents are supernatural, and I grew up in that world. It was hard for me when all my friends were of that world and I felt like an outsider. But, with my mind retaining information like I do, I watched my friends and my parents’ friends and became fascinated to learn anything I could.”

  She broke off for a minute, her nose crinkling. “It was my own insecurity at first, but when the world found out that the things that go bump in the night were real, I thought it would be easier for a human to explain things to others. I couldn’t be biased against the monsters if I’d grown up with them.”

  Derek bristled at the slight irritation in her voice. Someone had hurt her in the past because of who she was or who her parents were, and damned if the wolf in him didn’t want to sink his teeth into some flesh and tear that idiot limb from limb.

  “Anyway, I was one of the first students in the College of Paranormal Studies. When I graduated a few years later, the dean asked me to teach while I studied. And now, here I am, working as a consult for P.I.T.”

  A car honked from behind, and Derek bared his teeth in the mirror as he inched forward, so caught up in Ever he hadn’t realized the lights had changed colour. In the last half hour since they had emerged from the college, the car had barely moved as the steady flow of cars tried to maneuver the busy city streets. At this rate, Ricky would be back from Clare and they would be still stuck in this abyss.

  Derek steered the car into the correct lane as they came to another frustrating halt outside City Hall. He thrummed his fingers on the dashboard with impatience.

  “Why do you bother driving if you get this annoyed over a little traffic?” she teased at his obvious discomfort.

  “Driving, I love. Being stuck in traffic, unable to move, frustrates my wolf and me. This close to the full moon, we’re always at loggerheads for control.”

  Her cobalt eyes sparkled with interest. “Most werewolves, bitten or changed, talk of their wolves as an extension of themselves, while you speak as if your wolf is separate from you.”

  It was Derek’s turn to shrug. “I dunno. I think I’ve always referred to my wolf as just that—my wolf. When we are in human form, I’m the one who is most in control. When he’s in control, then I allow him the freedom to be a wolf without the leash of my conscience. There are things the wolf likes to do that at times disgust me, while he is vocal about things I do that piss him off. I keep thinking one day I’ll accept what I am and learn to be one with my wolf. And I have absolutely no idea why I just told you that.” His jaw ticked again.

  Ever bit her lip. “Were you changed by force?” she inquired, her curiosity shining on her face.

  Derek’s grip on the wheel tightened as the car lurched forward and made good progress before the lights changed. “Yeah, it’s not a choice I would have made. I guess I carried a latent form of the gene. When a werewolf tore out my throat while on a mission, it triggered the change, and here I am.”

  “From your words, I take it you wish you had never survived the bite. Why do you talk like being a werewolf is a curse?” Ever asked, still looking curious.

  The lights changed and Derek accelerated, the traffic now beginning to die down as their car reached the outskirts of the suburbs. Even though there were still more vehicles than usual on the road, the journey to the station would only take about twenty minutes at most. Glancing at the clock on the dash, he blinked when he saw that it neared two o’clock in the afternoon. Time had flown in the cramped confines of his car, too quickly for his liking. He still hadn’t answered Ever’s question.

  Derek leaned his head to the right. “Isn’t it?”

  She gave a little shake of her head. “Some consider it a blessing. To stay young, to remain strong for hundreds of years. To watch history unfold before your eyes and see all the wonders that the world has for you to experience. I think it would be a privilege.”

  He looked at her then—really looked at her—and held her gaze. “And then there are those who, after centuries on this wretched earth, claim that this is punishment for our past sins. That staying young and strong while we watch those we love wither and die around us is a fate worse than death itself.”

  His statement, though brief, held an abundance of emotion, of loss and sorrow entwined with secrets that Ever was eager to discover. “Do you really believe that? Do you honestly think being a werewolf is your penance? And if it’s a curse for past sins, then can you not look at it as some sort of redemption? A way to b
alance the scales?”

  Derek remained silent for the moment; the only sounds were their breathing, the hum of the car’s engine, and the world that continued around them. He had never looked at it that way, but he couldn’t agree with her positive outlook on being a wolf. Ever was too young, too optimistic, to see the darkness that blackened the world. He hoped she stayed that way—hopeful, eager, looking at the good rather than the bad—but he didn’t have it in him. The darkness had latched on years ago, drenched itself in blood, and taken host in his soul. It had become a part of him that he couldn’t escape, no matter how much good he did.

  “I don’t believe in redemption, Ever,” he sighed, sad but resolved, “but I was made lycan, and I’ve learned to live with that much like you learned to be the woman you are today. If I can use my abilities as a wolf to do some good and catch bad guys—the monsters humans are afraid to hunt—then I can be content with that, with my life.”

  Ever opened her mouth to speak, when a sharp buzz stopped her. Derek pressed the answer button on his phone, not needing to put it to his ear to hear the caller. “Doyle.”

  “D! I swear on all that I hold dear in this world that I’m going to shave the cat bald and use him as a rug in front of my fireplace!”

  Derek grinned, and Ever looked at him, unable to hear the words his friend spoke.

  “Fionn could claw your eyes out in a second, my friend. Then how would you be able to spot a beautiful woman coming your way?”

  Ricky cursed and Derek laughed, his wolf liking the way Ever smiled to herself when he did. His wolf licked at its paws, as if he were making himself more presentable for their travel companion.

  “So we spoke to the first vic’s parents, and it looks like we finally got a break. Sandy Goldsmith was, in fact, a supe who had yet to come into her powers. Her parents were merpeople, and Sandy was coming up on the age of maturity, to develop her sea legs. D, she was their only kid. It takes mermaids centuries to have one kid.”

  “It’s safe to assume that the boy was supernatural also. At least we’ve an MO now, Ricky. We’re gonna get this bastard,” Derek said, a growl rumbling deep in his chest.

  “Chalk it down, my furry friend. So, you get with the consultant yet? How’s she looking?”

  Derek’s growl found its way up his throat so it echoed throughout the car, much to his friend’s amusement. Ricky had enough women running around after him, Ever would not be one of them.

  “Easy, D. No need to scare the pretty little teacher with your scary-ass wolf routine. Down, boy.”

  Derek ground his teeth together. “If the cat doesn’t kill you, Ricky, I may just have to do it myself.”

  But Ricky just laughed harder. “Love you, too, D. Right, the cat is back now. We should be back in under an hour. We’re halfway there already.”

  Hanging up with a grunt, he stole a quick look at Ever. Her golden-blonde hair seemed to lighten her face and make her eyes a dazzling shade of blue, like the purest of water that allowed you to see the bottom of the ocean. He struggled to restrain his wolf as the beast in his head demanded he claim her as his so that no one would dare touch her without losing an appendage. He wanted to yank off her seat belt, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until they were both drunk with passion. He had never felt this possessive, this hungry for someone before.

  “Tell me more about your parents.” Derek genuinely wanted to know more about Ever, and his wolf seemed to behave when she spoke. He kept his eyes forward as he steered the car around the city suburbs mere minutes from the station.

  “My mother is a high Wiccan priestess and my father a highly respected Druid. They met one winter solstice as teenagers. My father says when he first laid eyes on the gorgeous, raven-haired beauty that was my mother, as she danced amongst the others in her coven, that no other girl would suffice.”

  She smiled at the memory with a look many women got when they spoke of marriage and love. He hadn’t understood the reaction before… until right now.

  “He courted her for many months until she gave in and went out on a date with him. They were inseparable after that, married a few months later, and decided to travel the world. They had wanted to share their love of each other by having a family, but we both know witches and warlocks cannot have kids with one another.”

  Her voice wavered, sorrow flooding her words as she continued. “When Mom sat me down and told the story of how I had come into their lives, I cried at the sadness in her voice when she spoke of the children she could never have. But Mom brushed away my tears and simply said, “Mo chailín leanbh—my baby girl—just because I did not give birth to you, that does not make you any less mine or your father’s. We are blessed that someone else brought you into the world for us. Our grá—our love—for you is not diminished because I did not carry you.”

  Derek signaled and veered the car around the roundabout, trying to avoid the disgust in his stomach at the media vultures who circled around the murderer’s dumpsite. They were waiting, watching, for a chance to catch something—anything—they could publish. After he made it through and edged the car into the station, he pulled into his parking space and brought the car to a halt.

  Killing the engine, he pulled the keys free and went to open the door. Ever went to do the same, but Derek’s voice stopped her.

  “I think your mother is a wise woman, Ever. From the way you speak of her and the words she told you, she is your mother in every way except blood. And believe me, sharing blood with someone doesn’t necessarily make you closer. The family we choose as our own matters far more than the family that is forced upon us.”

  He was out of the car before she could answer him. Ever quickly followed suit, grabbing the bag that she had stashed under the seat when she had gotten in. She closed the car door behind her as Derek waited for her to emerge. As she flashed a smile, he started to smile back when the main door to the station opened and out strode his boss.

  “Uncle Tom!” she squealed and ran into the arms of the aging bear. A chortle escaped him, a familiar sound. She hugged him fiercely, and Derek understood why. This was the man who had ensured Ever hadn’t been lost to the system, one of those kids who went into foster care and never emerged. He’d forged a life for Ever that she may have never had if he hadn’t been the one who had found her on those church steps.

  “How’s my favorite niece today?”

  “Here to help as much as I can.”

  Her words seemed to sober him and he stepped from her embrace, his eyes darting to Derek.

  “And has Agent Doyle behaved himself?” Sarge teased his second-in-command, basking in delight as Derek growled.

  Ever laughed, sweeping her hair back off her face as the wind began to gust. “Derek has been nothing but a perfect gentleman, haven’t you, Derek?”

  Derek muttered under his breath and stormed off ahead of them. Both Ever and Sarge laughed as they followed him up the steps to the station. Derek waited for them to join him, his temper fraying a tad. The muscle in his jaw ticked, and Sarge watched him brace a hand against the wall.

  Derek moved to open a door for Ever, and she slipped inside under his watchful gaze. He ran his eyes over her curves and cursed when Sarge punched him lightly on the shoulder, a grin on his face.

  Derek felt his wolf stir and snarl, snapping at the inside of his mind as Ever moved farther away from him down the corridor. She linked her arm with Sarge, and the pair chatted away as Derek stalked after them. In a few days, he would be off the case for forty-eight hours while he lost control to his wolf. He needed to get his head in the game and focus on finding that monster before another child was taken far too early.

  Gritting his teeth, he mentally slapped his wolf on the nose as he growled and followed the pair in front of him, his eyes firmly watching only one person—and it certainly wasn’t Sarge.

 
Susan Harris's Novels