Veiled Spirits

Turning around, I lead them farther into my apartment. The exposed brick walls, dark wood floor, and bare rafters give the former warehouse an industrial feel. It wasn’t an aesthetic choice. I just couldn’t be bothered with finishing it any further when I desperately needed somewhere to live that wasn’t with my aunt. I’m going on seven years without seeing her, and I hope to extend that streak to my entire life.

“You always answer the door like that, St. James?” I turn back to Izzy, who is glaring at my bare chest and unbuttoned jeans riding low on my hips. I hold in my laugh at her possessiveness.

“Does it bother you if other people see me like this?” While I shouldn’t antagonize her, a fucked-up part of me loves when she claims me. Knowing she’s my mate but not being able to complete the mate bond for the past seven years has been torture. I’ll take whatever scraps of claiming I can get.

Izzy scoffs. “No.” Her cheeks flush and she won’t meet my eyes, so I know she’s lying.

“I knew it was you, sweetheart. That’s the only reason I didn’t bother to get dressed.” Izzy lets out a cute little sigh of relief she probably thinks I can’t hear. “Do you want something to eat or drink? Or do you just want to go up to bed?”

“Bed. I’m fucking wiped.” Izzy tiredly walks over to the coat closet near the kitchen. With concrete countertops, espresso wood cabinets, and plain subway tile backsplash, it is simple but functional. When she reaches the coat closet, Izzy plops on the floor to untie her Chucks. Pulling the door open, Izzy puts her shoes on the shoe rack I only have there for her. She can’t stand shoes or clothing scattered everywhere.

Archer and Levi follow her example. Once everyone is ready to head upstairs to my room, I hold out my hand for Izzy. She places her tiny, soft hand in mine. Whenever I hold her, I’m painfully aware of how easily I could break her slight frame. My protective urges come roaring to the surface, but I stuff them down. Izzy doesn’t need to see that right now.

We walk up the curving wrought-iron staircase together. I lead her down the hallway to my room. Pushing open the door, I’m glad I have a king-size bed. It’s still going to be a tight fit with Levi. He’s an inch taller than Luca and almost as bulky. I’m the same height as Cain but slightly more muscular. Archer is the shortest and leanest of us, but he still towers over Izzy.

I head to my dark wood dresser to grab one of my shirts for Izzy to sleep in. She likes to steal my clothes, and I pretend not to notice. Seeing her wearing one of my shirts and nothing else gives me an instant fucking hard-on. Izzy pretends not to notice it when I hold her.

Riffling through my drawer, I pull out one of my faded System of a Down tees that Izzy has told me is especially comfortable. “Here you go, sweetheart. You can change in my bathroom.” I nod toward my en suite. Izzy takes the shirt and heads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

When I hear the shower turn on, I look at Levi and Archer. “What the fuck happened?” I try to talk quietly enough so Izzy won’t hear us discussing it.

Levi clenches his jaw. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.” He scrubs his hands over his face. When he drops his hands, his eyes are almost entirely red with just a black pupil in the middle. It’s eerie. “When I find that disgusting piece of shit, he’s going to beg for a death I can ensure is much worse than living.”

“Fuck!” Archer hisses, his eyes burning with rage and torment. I turn to him and raise an eyebrow to wordlessly ask what’s going on. “The front of her shirt was haphazardly untucked when I found her with Levi. Combined with demon eyes mentioning a guy and how she reacted to Luca pinning her, I really fucking hope I’m wrong about what I think happened.”

It takes a moment for me to put together what Archer is implying. My stomach bottoms out, and pure fury like nothing I’ve ever felt before rages through my veins. I’d like to say Izzy would tell me about guys at school hurting her, but I’d be lying. I don’t think Izzy knows about the other side of me, the one that revels in torturing anyone who even looks at her wrong. But I do think she knows I would kill anyone who touched her against her will.

The sound of the shower turning off breaks through my rage-induced haze. Taking in a shaky breath, I force down all of the anger, devastation, and thirst for vengeance on her behalf. I pull out the tame Bishop she knows and needs right now. Tomorrow, when she’s not here, I can lose it. Right now, she needs someone to comfort her, not kill for her.

Izzy comes padding out of the bathroom in just my shirt, and my boxers get uncomfortably tight. With the bathroom light shining behind her, Izzy looks ethereal. Her pale skin and blonde hair contrast the dark gray tee I gave her.

I have the urge to push my shirt up her thighs to see if she’s wearing any panties or just my tee. With a small shake of my head, I shut those thoughts down fast. Izzy isn’t ready for what I want to do to her, especially if she’s been hurt before.

Fuck! I need to be thinking about something other than murder or fucking. What a weird combination.

While I try to pull myself together for what feels like the eighth time tonight, Izzy shuffles over to my bed. She climbs up and goes to the middle of it. On her knees, Izzy looks over at the three of us by the door. “You boys coming or what?”

“For you? I’ll always come,” Archer purrs.

Izzy’s eyes widen when she realizes her unintentional innuendo. Her cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, but she doesn’t say anything. Archer strips off his shirt and jeans before walking over to the bed and climbing in. Izzy admires the wolf’s bare chest as he walks toward her.

Levi eyes Izzy for a moment before blowing out a breath and moving closer to the bed. Seeming to come to a decision, he takes off his shirt. Izzy sucks in a breath at all of Levi’s tattoos. They’re all black and gray designs. From where I’m standing, I can see that he has full sleeves on both arms and a pair of dark angel wings covering his whole back. One sleeve looks like a massive snake winding around his arm. I can’t see the other arm.

“Do they bother you?” Levi asks, misinterpreting Izzy’s gasp. She wasn’t horrified by them. Tattoos fascinate her.

I have a large Saint James cross on my right side and hip for my parents and baby brother. Izzy loves looking at it. Anytime we’re watching movies or hanging out, she’ll idly trace my tattoo with her dainty fingers. Having her hands on me, dancing up my side, does not help my self-control, but I like it too much to ever tell her to stop.

My heart squeezes uncomfortably thinking about my family. I know my parents would be thrilled that Izzy is my mate. They always loved her and her whole family. Deacon, who was three years younger than me, would tease me about how much of a sap I am. I clench my fists as the pain of everything they’re missing tries to overwhelm me. Now’s not the time. Izzy needs me.

Shaking my head, I try to focus back on the present.

“What? No. I think they’re cool!” Izzy knee walks toward the end of the bed to get a better look at Levi’s tattoos. She waves him closer so she can inspect the art better. After a moment, Izzy gasps again. “You dirty fucking liar! When were you going to tell me you had a screech owl tattoo? I’ve been trying to annoy you, not call you an animal name you liked.”

Levi huffs a laugh. “I didn’t think it was relevant, little raven.”

“Not relevant, my ass. No wonder you grin every time I call you that.” Izzy shakes her head at him but continues her perusal. She reaches out to touch his chest before stopping and looking at him in question. Levi gently grasps her wrist and brings her fingers to his pec.

While Izzy is checking out Levi’s tattoos, I move to my side of the bed and sit down. I dig my elbows into my knees and rest my head in my hands. It’s only a few minutes until I hear her shuffling across the bed to me. Izzy’s arms wrap around me, and she presses her front to my bare back. “You okay, St. James?” she whispers into my neck.