Cataclysm (Supernova Saga)

  He put his pearl-blue guitar pick in the neck of the instrument and propped it against the stereo, one of the very few things that hadn’t suffered the wrath of his earlier fit. Slouching back into the futon again, he exhaled a long breath and closed his eyes.

  A voice from his dream ricocheted through his thoughts, sending shivers up his spine and reminding him just how very fucked up the situation really was. “You can’t keep me from my grandchild, silly boy. My blood runs through those veins just as much as it runs through yours.”

  That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? He should be happy that he had a baby on the way. But how could he be when that baby’s life was in danger simply because it was sired by the bastard child of a monster? He, or she, wasn’t even born yet, and already the doom and gloom of his curse loomed over it from association alone. Drake’s threats, the danger his child would be in, and the lengths the mother of that child would go to protect her baby were prevalent in his mind. Kerrigan would stop at nothing to ensure the safety of their family, so what risk might there be to her as well?

  And the one that should be there to protect them? Yeah, he might not even be around to do his damn job. Hell, at the rate he was pulling the disappearing act as of late, he probably wouldn’t even be around to see the birth of their child, much less to help protect it.

  So, why was he so upset over the blessing that had been bestowed upon him and Kerrigan?

  Because he was dying. Because there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Because like his own father, he wouldn’t be there for his child. Because all those things made it not so much a blessing, but an addendum to his curse.

  He swallowed down the urge to scream at the powers that be that dealt him the cruel hand he was forced to play. Screw that. Holding it in was driving him mental faster than his unfortunate circumstances, so he let it out. He let it all out. Veins bulged over strained extensor muscles as he clenched the hair at his temples, bared his teeth, and let it go. The agonizing roar that erupted from his chest ripped at his vocal chords, carrying with it all the fears he would not admit, the defeat he could not acknowledge, and the anger he should not have felt. He declared it all in that moment, and he didn’t give a damn who heard him.

  Once he had exhausted himself, he slumped forward with his head in his hands and just breathed. He sat like that for a while, waiting for his muscles to uncoil and the war in his head to stop raging out of control. But for all that he had tried to purge from his system, he was no better off.

  The sound of creaking wood drew his attention, and he snapped his head in the direction of the steps leading up from the doorway to find Kerrigan wringing her hands. She bowed her head the moment his gaze met hers, unable to look him in the eye. For the first time since they had met, he didn’t want her to. The sight of those startling baby blues always disarmed him, and he wasn’t ready to fall at her mercy just yet.

  He stood to face her, but what little was left of his pride refused to let the feet attached to unwavering legs move in her direction. “What did the doctor say?” His voice was gruff and raspy like he had swallowed a handful of shrapnel. Regardless of how hurt and angry he was, her well-being would always come first and foremost.

  “I’m fine. The baby’s fine.” She picked at her nails to keep from looking him in the eye. Then she sighed and dropped her hands to her sides, finally lifting her head. “Dominic, I’m sorr—”

  “How long have you known?”

  Kerrigan walked toward him, but he threw his hands up.

  “Stop. Just... stop. I don’t want you to touch me right now.” He walked past her to put more space between them. He ran his hands through his hair and then turned to face her again. The rejection she felt was evident in the slump of her shoulders, but he couldn’t comfort her just then. He needed answers. “How long have you known, Kerrigan?”

  The sound that came out of her was small and guilt-ridden. “Lucy told me the night we took Drew to meet her.”

  He clenched his teeth to keep from yelling. “And when were you planning on telling me?”

  The pleading in her eyes preceded her words. “Dominic, you have to understand. You already had so much to worry about—”

  He closed his eyes and spoke over her. “When?”

  Kerrigan heaved a sigh, knowing she wasn’t going to get a chance to explain before she answered his question. “Not until I knew you were going to be okay.”

  Dominic chuckled humorlessly. The control he had been struggling to maintain snapped free. “And what if that had backfired on you? What if you and the almighty Drew weren’t able to keep me from dying?” he asked, holding his hands up into the air as if to glorify Drew’s name. “What then? You were going to let me go to my grave without knowing I’d fathered a child? I mean, it is my child, right?”

  In two livid steps she had crossed the room. The slap to the left side of his face was fast as a cobra’s strike. His head snapped to the side, but his stance never faltered. Once the initial shock wore off, he touched the welting handprint on his cheek and shifted his eyes in her direction. He had that one coming.

  Afraid she might lash out again, Kerrigan backed up. Her fists were balled at her sides, and her face was red with anger and outrage. “I don’t know what kind of whores have kept you company in the past, Dominic Grayson, but I’m not one of them! How dare you insinuate this baby belongs to anyone but you?”

  He hadn’t really believed it wasn’t his, and he shouldn’t have said it, but damn it all if he wasn’t just pissed at the world. Still, he owed her an apology. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. Of course I know the baby’s mine, but there had to be some reason you were keeping it from me. So what was it? Afraid that if I die I’ll come back and try to suck the soul out of my kid like my worthless sperm donor? Like father, like son? Was that it?”

  “Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air before she faced off with him again. “Is that what you really think?”

  He didn’t answer, but his brows rose in question as if to say what else could it be?

  She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, sticking her hip out. “No, Dominic. It was because I know you. You would have gone into protector mode, worrying that the baby or I would get hurt and not let me do anything to try to help you.”

  “Damn straight I would have! I’m a man, Kerrigan! That’s what the fuck I do!” he shouted while pounding on his chest. “I may not have supernatural powers, but I can take care of my own! I protect the people who are important to me the old-fashioned way; by keeping them out of harm’s way! And when that doesn’t work, I put a bullet through someone’s head!”

  He paced back and forth with his hands on his hips, navigating through the clear path to either side of him. She imagined it was the exact same path he had traversed all those nights she had lain awake listening to him when she had first moved into the room below them.

  He stopped abruptly, took a deep, cleansing breath, and aimed an accusing stare at her. “You preach to me about keeping secrets and then what do you do? Huh? You kept the mother of all secrets from me. I had... the right... to know.”

  Silence stretched between them as the words settled in the air. The tension was so thick a chainsaw wouldn’t have been able to cut through it. Only one question still remained unanswered: If she didn’t feel he had the right to know he had fathered a child, who did she feel had earned that right?

  He started with the obvious. “Did Gabe know?”

  She shook her head. “No. I promise, he didn’t know anything.”

  “So, you didn’t tell Gabe, and you didn’t tell me. Your parents?”

  She sighed in exasperation. “No. No one knew.”

  “Except for Drew,” he corrected her.

  Knowing where the conversation was headed, and doing her best to curtail him from cutting her off again, she spoke fast. “Yes, but I didn’t tell him! He found out when he took me
into his sanctuary, and—”

  “Wait a minute.” Dominic pulled up short, not sure he had heard correctly. “He took you into his sanctuary?” A Guardian’s sanctuary was a sacred place that belonged to only them, and therefore, the epitome of intimacy. Inviting someone else into it was a big fucking deal. The one time she had attempted to take him into hers, she had failed.

  Kerrigan didn’t answer, but the lonely tear of shame that slid down her cheek before she bowed her head was answer enough.

  He ran his hands over his face. “Man... what the fuck ever. I am so out of here.” He grabbed his car keys from the floor where they had landed when he swiped the dresser clean. He ran down the stairs, yanked the door open, and then stormed out, slamming it behind him.

  “Dominic, wait! Where are you going?” There was no reply, but she hadn’t really expected one. Giving chase behind him wouldn’t have done her any good. If he didn’t want to be caught, he wouldn’t. He just needed some time, but she knew he would come back to her.

  She turned to go to the window, but was instead distracted by the debris that lay at her feet and saw clearly the destruction in the room for the first time. The sun shining in from the window reflected off something metallic on the floor and caught her attention. Staring up at her was the discarded, broken frame with a picture of a broken family, including the young boy whom she had thought had only been a figment of her imagination up until a few months ago. Like his family, he too was now broken.

  She picked it up and swept her fingers over the image of the young boy carefully, so as not to inadvertently cut herself. Closing her eyes, she brought the frame to her lips and placed a light kiss over the picture of Nicky Grayson. Would the man he had become ever fully realize just how very much he meant to her? She smiled down at him before sitting the frame back on the nightstand, adjusting that back in its place as well.

  Looking around, she decided cleaning up the mess would be a welcomed distraction from the pain she felt in her heart. She bent over to pick up Dominic’s Led Zepplin T-shirt. With loving hands she folded it, smoothing out the wrinkles before putting it in its rightful place. Then she picked up another T-shirt, and again folded it carefully and put it away. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed the next one. Her work was cut out for her. In fact, it would probably take the rest of the night for her to finish. Much like its occupants’ lives, the room was in shambles. But she would clean it all back up and bring order to chaos... one T-shirt at a time.

  Having spent the majority of the day scouring every surface in her home, Sinclair was exhausted. Never had she paid so much attention to such mundane chores, but she felt driven to rid her surroundings of even the tiniest microscopic particle of filth.

  When she had arrived home, she did something she never did; she opened the drapes and let the sunlight pour in. That was when she saw the muck that had been shrouded in darkness for so long. Her house had always been well maintained. It was what the naked eye couldn’t see that gave her the heebie-jeebies.

  However spotless her surroundings were after her cleaning spree, it did nothing to rid her of the creepy crawlies she felt all over her own skin. What confused her was that the layer of grime encasing her wasn’t from Drew’s touch. It was everything that made her who she was—the things she surrounded herself with, the type of people in her life, and the man she had always known to be her soul mate.

  Everything felt like a lie.

  Now, as the sun set and darkness staked its claim inside her home again, she was apprehensive. He would come to her tonight. She was sure of it. The chill that ran through her godforsaken soul carried with it the calling card of its owner. She was imprisoned inside the vow she had made to him, and he would know. He would sense the feelings she had developed for Drew, the transgressions of her heart, her doubt of things she had never questioned before.

  Even though every sensibility within her begged that she run back to Drew, she knew she couldn’t. She had to face Drake and accept the punishment she knew was due. And then she would be reminded of her place in the world—in his world. It was too late for her, and she was a fool to think otherwise.

  Besides, anything she felt for Drew was one-sided. His affections toward her were merely the result of an expertly executed spell. If it hadn’t been for the potion, she would be nothing more than another notch on his bedpost. Men like Andrew Dickens didn’t fall for women like her. He was a Guardian—chosen for his duty because of his untainted bloodline.

  She was the scum he was empowered to protect mankind against. Once the haze from the love spell lifted, he would clearly see the black tar of evil that smothered her soul. Damned for all eternity, the all-too-brief moments she shared with him were the closest she would ever get to Heaven.

  She sighed and pushed herself up off the couch to head for the bathroom. A shower would do nothing to hide her indiscretion from Drake, but she needed it all the same. Shedding her clothes, she set the water to a nearly scalding temperature and then stepped inside. The initial burn of the water against her skin was a sweet torture, and she closed her eyes, imagining it washing away her impurities. Whether those impurities were in the form of her deceit toward Drake or proof of her time with Drew, she didn’t know, nor did she care. Maybe it was a little of both. It was a double-edge sword she had forged, and it was aimed right at her. Maybe she would never be good enough for Drew, but maybe she didn’t have to succumb to Drake’s demands anymore either.

  Afterward she dried off, wrapping a towel around herself and winding another around her head like a turban. The steam from the shower had fogged up the mirror, and she swiped her hand across it to see her reflection. She didn’t like what she saw. The woman who peered back at her was a stranger. She had always thought herself to be a strong, beautiful, confident woman, but now she saw herself for what she really was: ugly, weak, and unsure. Had any of her thoughts and actions ever really been her own?

  Deciding the answer to that question didn’t really matter at that point, she finished up her prebed ritual and crawled under the covers to await the visitor who would undoubtedly come. She used to force sleep through medication, but not this time. This time she would make him wait. It was another thing she would likely be punished for, but she was in no hurry to face his wrath.

  Sleep came easier than she would have thought, and before long, her dream self was sitting nude on the edge of her bed, eyes forward, back straight, and chin held high as she waited for him.

  “Ah, Sin... I’ve missed you so.” His voice finally penetrated the silence and she turned toward the direction it came from to find him leaning against the frame of her open door. “Tell me, my little pet... why have you kept me waiting so long? Were you not as anxious to see me as I’ve been to see you?”

  She forced a smile on her crimson lips. “Of course I was. I’ve just been busy with the assignment you gave me. You’ll be pleased to know the Guardian is completely under my control.”

  Drake pushed off of the doorframe and held his hand out to her. “Come to me, Sinclair.”

  She stood and did as he said, placing her hand in his. He pulled her naked body toward him and engulfed her in his embrace as he nuzzled her neck and inhaled deeply.

  He pulled back, eyes aflame. “Are you sure it is he that is under your control? Or might it be the other way around?”

  She did her best to look confused, which wasn’t entirely hard to do. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Hmm,” he said in thought.

  He swept his bony hand over the curve of her hip and the flat plane of her stomach, and then he moved even farther south to touch her intimately. She couldn’t help the cry of pleasure his touch evoked. He had the ability to leave her writhing in a pool of orgasms by touch alone.

  “You fucked him.” There was no malice in his tone. He dipped his fingers inside her, and she cried out again until his mouth covered hers to stifle her sound of pleasure. When he pulled back, he had a self-satisfied look on his face. “I can
taste the evidence of his cock in your mouth as well. Oh, Sin... the lengths you will go to ensure I have what I want pleases me greatly. Did his touch please you, too?”

  Still lost in the wave of orgasms, she answered without forethought. “Yes...”

  The back of Drake’s hand landed hard across her cheek and she was snapped out of her daze. She instinctively covered the spot with her hand as she took a step back. He grabbed her by both arms and pulled her back to him.

  “You fucking whore!” He turned them both around until her back was to the wall and his hand was around her throat. “You dare take pleasure from a man when you belong to me? I own you!”

  Sinclair clawed at his hands while gasping for air, kicking and flailing when he lifted her up the wall. “Please... sorry...” Her words were strangled whispers as she begged him for mercy.

  Without warning, but much to her relief, he dropped her to the floor. Scrambling to her hands and knees, she launched into a series of gasps and wheezing coughs as her lungs filled with the oxygen she had been denied.

  “You wound me with your infidelity, Sin.” Drake’s voice was much calmer now. “I’ll remind you that since you vowed your soul to me, I can take it at any time I want. Get up. There’s something else of which you need to be reminded.”

  Placing her hand on the wall for leverage, she forced herself to her feet. No sooner had she stood when Drake took her hand roughly and yanked her out of her bedroom. He dragged her along behind him down the hallway until they reached the sealed door. Then he pulled her to stand directly in front of him to face it. Unable to bear the sight, she turned her face into her shoulder.

  Cold hands brushed her neck when he moved her long hair away from her face. “We are connected in a way that allows me to feel everything you feel, Sin. And what I feel from you now is an uncertainty about what it is that we’re attempting to do. You wanted retribution. Do you remember that?”

  When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at the door.