"Unless you get her alone, you have no chance." I sat, half-tempted to toss my coffee in his face and tear his throat out for good measure.
"She'll come to me of her own accord. When you fail — and fail you will — she'll come to me. They always do."
My body shuddered with the onslaught of past memories. "You brainwashed her."
"I offered her a solution."
"You gave her death."
"I didn't say it was a good solution." Cassius shrugged. "Remember this, I've been damned to earth to help your cause — to help the immortals and humans keep balance. When you fail, it's my head — not yours."
I rolled my eyes. "It's been over five-hundred years since we've had a visit from one of the archangels. I highly doubt they're going to do it now. There's nothing special about her." That was a lie.
"I smell your doubt, vampire." Cassius growled my name pushed back the chair and stood. "Have your fun, try to win her affection, but know in the end, it will be me who has to save everyone."
"Has anyone ever told you that you have a god-complex?"
"I come by that quite naturally, I assure you." He nodded and walked off, calling behind him, "Do your worst, Ethan, or maybe I should say… try your best?"
"Ah, so may the best man win and all of that." I laughed. "Yet you forget. Your very essence will kill her."
"We don't know that for sure." He raised one hand and lifted the opposite shoulder in a seemingly casual shrug. "And I'm willing to take that risk. In order to save us all, I would take that risk every time. I wonder… would you?"
I swallowed and looked away, knowing he'd hit me at my weakness. Because I'd seen the signs with Ara and had ignored them because I'd thought I loved her, and in the end, I'd still refused to give her up, forcing his hand. Humiliation ate away, pinching my chest.
"This evening? She'll be in attendance then? Since the mating is… complete?" he asked, toying with his keys.
"She'll be there."
His grin was menacing. "Lovely."
Right.
He walked off.
And I stayed, planted in my seat, wondering if history truly was repeating itself, and if she wouldn't have been better off dying by Cassius's hands — dying in a blissful state — than living with someone who apparently had no capacity for love… or who, for some reason or another, was unlovable.
And that was the crux of the matter.
Regardless of what I'd done, my mate had never loved me back. Had never looked at me with the same adoration as I'd looked at her.
My love had destroyed her.
And in the end, I truly had no one to blame but myself, for being selfish enough to have hidden the truth from Cassius until it had been too late — selfish enough to have wanted to keep the child who hadn't even been mine.
Love, in all my experience, was just that — selfishness wrapped up in a pretty little bow.
I took one last drink of coffee and stood, just as a few giggling girls walked out of the coffee shop. They stopped. Their hearts, however, picked up speed as they glanced at me and blushed.
I didn't have time to placate them. Instead, I growled and stomped off in the other direction.
Stay alert.
Keep to the plan.
And above all — don't allow Genesis in. Because I wouldn't survive it a second time.
Genesis
I didn't see Ethan the rest of the day. Stephanie tried to distract me with reality TV. It worked for a while, and then I'd gotten restless again. It wasn't that I was worried about him or anything. I just wanted to know that Cassius hadn't removed Ethan's head from his body. When I'd asked Alex about them fighting, he'd simply rolled his eyes and started talking about the Gathering that evening.
The women.
The lights.
The dancing.
But mostly the women.
It was time to go, and Ethan still wasn't there. I fidgeted with my dress, hoping it would please him and hating myself that it was even an issue. Why would I care? He'd rejected me over and over again only to offer me comfort and then reject me again. He made absolutely no sense, and in my current emotional state, I really desperately needed something to make sense.
Next to Stephanie, I felt like the ugly friend. The one you took with you and forced your brother or cousin to dance with. As if on cue, Alex stepped forward and offered his arm.
It's not that I needed compliments — I'd lasted my entire life without them. I'd turned them away, knowing that if my number was ever called, I would never feel pretty again, because I'd be in the constant company of immortals.
Though I'd foolishly thought I'd be a type of teacher.
It was what I'd lived for, to either live to teach them or continue on with my boring life and find a career I was passionate about.
"Hey now," Alex whispered in my ear, "hold your head high. They'll smell your fear from a mile away."
"Fear isn't welcome," I repeated under my breath.
"Good girl." He patted my hand. "And you look gorgeous."
"Don't," I snapped. "Just… don't lie, please."
His eyebrows drew together; he opened his mouth but earned a slap on the shoulder from Mason.
I hadn't noticed his arrival. Mason was wearing dress pants and a shirt that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Every muscle was outlined — it was hard not to stare. The man was huge. Had he not shown me compassion, I would be afraid of his size.
"She rides with me." He started prying my arm away from Alex.
Alex rolled his eyes. "Why not me?"
"She's safer with me, and those were Ethan's instructions. Check your phone."
Alex pulled out his iPhone. "Damn, how am I supposed to make an entrance without little human on my arm?"
"Name." Mason barked.
"Calling her human is my term of endearment, like sweetheart or babycakes."
"Call me babycakes, and I'll scratch your eyes out," my mouth fired off before I could stop it. Closing my eyes in embarrassment, I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I mean."
Alex barked out a laugh. "You're allowed to have opinions, babycakes."
I groaned.
"It's staying," he announced, "because it makes her turn red. Look."
He was pointing at my cheeks. I was sure they matched my dress. I'd just yelled at an immortal, threatened bodily harm, and he was laughing.
Mason removed Alex's hand from mine and took my arm. "Let's go, beautiful."
The attention, the compliments, the nicknames — they were too much. It was the opposite of what I'd expected, meaning, it was like being made fun of. Like I was naked for the class picture. It was embarrassing, being told I was beautiful when I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I paled in comparison to the ugliest of immortals.
"Did I say something wrong?" Mason asked once we were in his truck driving toward downtown. "You seem… upset."
My fingers slowly caressed the rich leather seats. I don't know what I expected him to drive, but a brand new GMC truck didn't really fit the image I'd had of werewolves.