Forever Broken

I’ve seen the way he acts when you two are together but that’s what it is—an act. He’s smart enough to know he’s stronger with you than without you so he gives you just enough to keep you close—”

“What are you talking about?” Paul shook off her hand. “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from my heart, mi hijo.” She looked at him sadly. “I’ve been thinking that I needed to say something to you for a long time and now you come in here looking like this—”

“Angel’s not the problem, okay?” he burst out. Not tonight, anyway. “It’s…someone else.”

“Who then?” There was a maternal note in her voice Paul found hard to refuse.

Lucia was one of those rare females who had a dominant were gene—meaning she could shift with the moon like male weres but was unable to bear children though she had always wanted them badly. Maybe that was the reason they’d gotten so close after his father had married her, just a year after moving them to Miami. God knew she meant more to him that his real mother, who had left the minute she found out her husband and son went furry every full moon. But for whatever reason Lucia always seemed to see into his heart—as she was right now.

“Mom, please…” He almost never called her that even though he felt it strongly.

But the words were a plea… Don’t make me tell. I can’t talk about it—not yet. Maybe not ever.

“All right, Paul.” She nodded, as though she’d heard his unspoken words. “But you should know that if you want to talk I’m here. And I won’t judge you no matter what you tell me.” An overwhelming wave of relief swamped him. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

She pushed her black cloud of hair out of her eyes with one hand. “You do that . I’m going back to the books—I swear your father would run this place into the ground without me.” It was a common complaint and it put them back in familiar territory.

Paul gave her a weak grin. “Yeah, he’s lucky to have you busting his balls.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Language, Paul.”

“What? Balls isn’t a swear word. Would you rather I said cojones?”

“A bad word is a bad word no matter what language you say it in,” Lucia said primly. She gave him a penetrating look. “Are you going to bed now or are you going back out?”

“Going back out?” For a moment the idea of finding Laurent struck him so strongly he could barely move. He remembered the address perfectly—it was burned into his memory. Coconut Grove was across the city but that didn’t matter. He could get back on his bike and be there in twenty minutes at this time of night. He’d knock on the carriage house door and Laurent would let him in. And then they could take up where they’d left off. God, the taste of his mouth…his skin was so smooth, so warm… No, can’t think like that. Can’t ever do that again. It’s wrong!

“Yeah, going back out. You know, with your pack?” Lucia frowned at him. “You sure you don’t want to talk, Paul? You don’t seem like yourself at all tonight.”

“Uh, no. No thanks.” He shook his head, trying to get his mind right. “I’m just…I’ll just spend a little time working in here, I think. I have that custom job that needs to be finished by next week and I’ve barely started it yet.”

“All right, if you’re sure.” She gave him a worried look.

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thanks anyway…Mom.” He grinned at her and something in his face must have reassured her because she finally let the matter drop.

“Okay, love you, Paul.” Stepping forward, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Her nose wrinkled slightly and she gave him a long look. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” He bent over his bike, pretending to adjust something, and when he raised his head she was gone.

Since he’d said he was going to, Paul went to the little alcove that had become his private workspace over the last few years and squatted down by the half-built cycle.

Usually this was what calmed him down—the intricacies of the work never failed to clear his mind and help him focus. But tonight it didn’t help. Nothing helped.

No matter how hard he concentrated on the bike he was building, every time Paul closed his eyes he saw the vampire. Saw Laurent. With his dark hair and red lips and those piercing pale green eyes. “Come and find me,” the image in his mind whispered. “I need you. You are my Coeur de Sang.” Whatever the hell that meant. Paul had no idea but somehow the words echoed in his head and wouldn’t leave him alone.

Chapter Four

I can’t believe I finally found him! Can’t believe that Nana’s old legends were true. Laurent walked home in a daze feeling both elated and crushed. He had found his Coeur de Sang— he ought to be the happiest vampire alive. And yet, what good did it do to find his Heart’s Blood if he was never going to see him again? He wants nothing to do with me.