Skye Morrison Vampire 2 Sins of the Father (12 page)

Archer’s brow furrowed as he glared at me,
his mouth taking deep pulls from the bag. I pursed my lips and
cocked an eyebrow. I’d wait him out if I had to, but I wasn’t going
to be the first one to speak. I was angry at him and the last thing
I wanted was to be stuck in a room with him right now.

Jameson suddenly cleared his throat and put
the sword back in the case. “Well, I’ve got to get to band
practice. I guess I’ll be taking the Porsche tonight since I no
longer have my car.” He stood there for a few seconds and then
sighed. “Okay. I’ll see you both tonight after the show.” He walked
up to me and briefly touched my arm while he leaned over to whisper
in my ear. “Try and be nice, okay love? I’ll miss you.”

I wanted to wrap my arms around him and give
him a proper goodbye kiss, but I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to
in front of Archer. Jameson was doing his damnedest not to touch me
more than he needed to, that much was obvious. Part of me
understood that he wisely didn’t want to rock the boat right now,
but the other part wanted to shove it in Archer’s face and say ‘Ha!
There! How do you like that, asshole?’ So immature, I know. I
reluctantly watched Jameson walk out of the door and close it
softly behind him.

“Are you going to stay mad at me all day?”
Archer asked after he finished the bag of blood and threw it away
in the trashcan under his desk.

I bit the inside of my cheek and momentarily
looked away.

“You have to talk to me sometime, Skye,” he
said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

“I do?” I asked, looking back at him. “Why?
So we can rub salt in each other’s wounds? I’d rather not, if it’s
all the same to you.”

Archer got up from his desk and flashed to
stand in front of me. I jumped at the unexpectedness of it, eyes
wide, and stumbled backward. Archer easily caught me and helped
steady me. My skin tingled where he touched it and I gasped, taking
a step away from him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said
softly, looking down at me. “I just want you to talk to me.”

I rubbed my arms where his hands had been and
tried to calm the blush I felt spreading across my cheeks. “Well,
fine. Talk. Let’s get this over with already since you seem hell
bent on doing it,” I said as I walked around him and sat down in
the chair in front of his desk.

I heard him sigh as he turned and sat on the
edge of the desk in front of me. I uncomfortably crossed my legs
and arms and waited for the yelling to begin.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” Archer said
reading my mind.

“Oh, yes you are,” I said, narrowing my eyes
up at him. “You may not be planning on it, but you’re going to end
up doing it. Mark my words.”

“And why do you say that?” he asked, crossing
his arms over his chest. He was wearing a tight, dark grey t-shirt
and his impressive biceps bulged underneath the thin fabric.

I swallowed hard and focused on his face. “I
say that because we are both really upset at each other right now.
I’m probably going to end up yelling at you. As a matter of fact, I
can almost guarantee it. You’ll get frustrated with me and, in
turn, yell back. It is a simple case of cause and effect,” I said
with a smart-assed smirk.

“Why didn’t you tell me Aoife was bothering
you?” he asked suddenly, throwing me off my game.

My brow furrowed and I looked away toward his
glass gun case as I bit my bottom lip. “Who said she was?” I knew
that Jameson had told him earlier today, but I didn’t want to
exacerbate the situation by tattle-telling to Archer. He would
probably say something to Aoife and she would in turn make my life
here a living hell. No thank you!

“Don’t play dumb with me, Skye.”

“I’m not playing dumb, Archer. I’m playing
indifferent.”

He growled lowly in frustration and glared
down at me. “Fine, don’t answer. It doesn’t matter because I know
now and I’ll put a stop to it.”

I rolled my eyes and uncrossed and re-crossed
my legs uncomfortably. “Jesus. What is it with you guys always
interfering in my shit? You know, if something is bothering me, I’m
perfectly capable of taking care of it myself. I’m not some damsel
in distress, Archer. I don’t need to be rescued, damn it.”

Archer chuckled rudely. “Oh, yes you do. You
just don’t know it yet. If Aoife is as pissed as I think she is,
you’re on her list. And, you really don’t want to be on her list.
She can be an absolute nightmare, trust me on this one.”

“Why the hell did you even have to bring her
here?” I asked angrily, my emotions showing more than I had
intended. I shook my head in frustration and sighed.
Damn
it
! I needed to play this cooler than I was.

“I need to protect my children, Skye,” he
said simply, elaborating no further.

“Whatever,” I said with a huff. “Next
question.” I wanted to get this over with before I had to go to
work this evening.

Archer briefly growled a warning, but I paid
him no mind. I was in a dangerous mood myself right now and didn’t
care the least bit if I ruffled his delicate feathers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw Aoife kiss
me?” he asked next. “And, why didn’t you give me a chance to
explain?”

I bit the inside of my cheek hard and looked
away. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I refused to let him see the hurt
still deep in mine. Answering this question was not something I
wanted to do, but I knew it had to be done. The dirty laundry
needed to be aired out.

“I didn’t tell you because it absolutely
crushed me, Archer,” I said, looking at the swords on the wall.
“And I didn’t need to hear an explanation. Your tongue down someone
else’s throat is pretty self-explanatory to me. I’ve been through
that before, remember?”

Archer got up off his desk and flashed to his
office window. He stared out the window for a minute before he
spoke. “You should have told me.”

“Oh, to hell with that!” I yelled, no longer
able to keep my cool. I bolted upright, enraged, fists clenched
tight down at my sides. “You should have told me before you kissed
me that you were MARRIED, Archer! How could you do that to me?! How
could you make me fall for you then stab me in the freakin’
heart?!” I immediately clamped my right hand over my mouth and
squeezed my eyes closed.
Damn it
!
Damn it
!
Son of
a…
Damn it
! I had said WAY more than I intended to. I
never wanted him to know that I had fallen for him. Never.

Archer slowly turned around to face me and I
instantly turned my back on him. My face was crimson red from rage
and embarrassment and I didn’t want him to see that.

“Well,” he said, after a moment, with a
bitter, mean laugh, “you must not have fallen that hard for me if
you jumped into bed with my brother two days later. I think that’s
got to be some sort of a record or something.”

Did he just call me a slut?!
I whirled
around so fast that I almost didn’t stop. My eyes were murderous
and my teeth clenched so tight it hurt. “Go to hell! You just go
straight to hell, you son of a bitch!” I yelled before turning and
stalking to the door.

Archer flashed to stand against the door
right as I reached for the knob.

“Get the hell out of my way, Archer!”

“We’re not done talking,” he said plainly, as
he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes. We. Are,” I said staccato between
clenched teeth, my eyes narrowed in what may very well be the most
extreme case of anger I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I
was beyond mad at him. I was beyond livid. I was a walking
Chernobyl.

“Why did you fuck my brother, Skye?” he
asked, looking down at me, his ice blue eyes no longer blue. They
were washed out and starting to fade rapidly. He was extremely
angry but I didn’t care. I wanted to hurt him as bad as he had just
hurt me. I was about to take this fight to a whole other level. It
was going to get nasty.

I smiled devilishly, looked up into his eyes,
and bit the corner of my bottom lip before I answered. “Because
once I had my hands wrapped around his huge cock, I totally forgot
your name.”

Archer’s top lip twitched a couple of times
and the next thing I knew, I was on my back on top of Archer’s desk
and his hand was wrapped around my throat. My breath caught as I
realized what had just happened. I’d pushed him way too far. His
eyes were completely white, aside from his pitch black pupils, and
his lips were pulled back in a snarl. His long, lethal fangs were
down and there was only a mere five inches of space between our
faces.

I swallowed painfully and gathered every
ounce of courage I had left in my body. “Get the fuck off me,” I
said a little unsteadily.

Archer roughly grabbed my face, turned my
head to the side, and ran his nose up the length of my neck as he
took a deep breath in. “You let him feed from you,” he growled
inhumanly. He turned my neck to the other side and slid his tongue
from the hollow to behind my ear, tasting me.

I gasped at its unexpectedness and tried to
push him off of me. “What does it matter to you if Jameson fed from
me? We aren’t together, Archer! We never will be! You’re with Aoife
and have been for six hundred years, or so I’ve heard.”

Archer turned my face to his and looked me
deep in the eyes. “I should take you right here on this desk and be
done with it,” he growled lowly, anger burning red hot in his pale
eyes. “Then I wouldn’t have to daydream anymore about your tight
little ass, or how good you’d feel on top of me, your warmth
wrapped around my cock.”

I struggled harder to free my body from under
his but it only excited him more. I growled in angry frustration as
I yelled at him, “Well, you’d better get used to it, because a
daydream is as close as you’re ever getting to me again, asshole!
Now, GET OFF ME!”

Suddenly, I was no longer on the desk, but
backed up against the door. Archer had both of my hands above my
head and we were both breathing hard.

“Tell me or I’ll steal it from your mind,” he
whispered, his face dangerously close to mine again, his eyes a
mixture of anger and sadness. “Why did you fuck my brother,
Skye?”

I swallowed hard and looked up at him. I felt
tears immediately spring to my eyes and I tried to blink them away,
but it was no use. They spilled over and Archer silently watched
them slide down my cheeks and onto my white tank top. “Because,” I
answered unsteadily. “You hurt me and I needed him. He lessened the
pain in my heart and I desperately needed that. He kissed away my
tears and showed me that love doesn’t have to hurt, Archer. I made
love to your brother because I wanted to. I made a mistake choosing
you over him and I wanted to make it right, before I lost him
forever.”

Archer leaned closer to my face, his lips
barely an inch from mine. “Have you chosen him, Skye?” he asked
softly as he stared deeply into my eyes. “I read in your mind just
last week that you weren’t going to be with either one of us
because it was too complicated. Did you change your mind? Are you
his?”

I licked my lips as I looked down at his.
“I…I,” I started to say when a loud knock sounded at the door,
interrupting us.

Archer growled, quickly flashed me to the
chair, and flashed back to open the door. “You just don’t know when
to leave well enough alone, do you Aoife?” he rumbled, reaching for
her. There was a quick blur of movement and a slam of the door.
When they finally stopped flashing around the room a full minute
later, Archer had Aoife up against the glass gun case by the neck
and they were both breathing hard. I think they had been fighting,
but I couldn’t tell for sure. They had been just one big blur.

“I heard she was staying here and came to see
for myself. Why is she here? Why is she ALONE with you?” Aoife
asked angrily.

Archer looked down at her with absolute
disgust on his face. “It is not your concern, Aoife. What I do and
with whom is never your concern. I’ve heard that you’ve been
causing problems for me this week and you’re going to set the
record straight…right here and now.”

Aoife shot me an angry glare and shouted
something at me in a language I didn’t understand.

Archer said something back to her in a low,
menacing snarl and she immediately lost her fight. He let go of her
neck and she moved to fix the yellow string bikini top and black
sarong that she was wearing. I noticed that she had the body of a
Victoria’s Secret runway model and a chest to match. I took a quick
glance down at my grungy jeans and tank top and felt completely
inadequate next to her.

She moved to sit in the chair beside me and
refused to look my direction. Her face was a blank mask.

Archer slowly walked over to his desk,
perched on the edge in front of us, and looked at both Aoife and
me.

“This ends here, Aoife,” he said in a calm,
controlled voice. “You will tell her the truth and then you will
get out of my office. You will not come to my private quarters or
my office again unless I personally summon you, is that clear?”

Aoife clenched her jaw and nodded. “Yes,
Athair
,” she said, her voice calm and compliant. She turned
to me and stared at me for a few seconds. A sudden growl emanating
from Archer encouraged her to speak.

“I may not have been entirely truthful when I
said that Archer and I were married,” she began as her eyes bored
into mine. “We were together for a time, but Archer chose to end
our relationship in 1899. Even though we took the sacred blood oath
for life, he has denied me ever since that rainy day in March. It’s
been 113 years now. I thought that 100 years away from each other
would have given him a chance to cool off and change his mind, but
it seems as though that’s not the case.” She looked up at Archer
for a moment before she turned back to me. Her eyes were murderous.
“It seems as though he loves another.”