Chapter Twenty

Ricky

Having dismissed the team to get some rest, Ricky had delegated himself as master of paperwork, plonking behind his desk to wrap up their vampire hunter case. Several times over the long hours, Ricky had cursed Derek for hightailing after his mate, leaving him to deal with the bureaucratic crapstorm each case seemed to amass. To be fair, Ricky tended to do just about anything to get out of paperwork and Derek left him away with a lot, grumbling that Ricky was just wrecking his head with his moaning and groaning. Maybe when Derek got back, Ricky could ease some of his workload.

Night had turned into early morning, with a call from Donnie the only thing that dragged him from the mountain of forms he had to fill out. Tossing the last of the files onto Sarge’s desk, Ricky ignored the missed calls from Fionn and picked up Donnie’s call.

“Should you not be curled up with your mate all blissfully happy and shit?”

A low chuckle sounded in Ricky’s ear, and a wave of envy punched him in the gut. “My mate is boneless and sleeping right next to me, hence my low voice. Chester has planned this big party at his gaff to celebrate our mating. It’s tonight. You have to be there.”

“Um, I think I might be washing my hair.”

“C’mon, Ricky, free booze and the chance to throw some shapes.”

It wasn’t like Ricky could say no…Donnie was family, and to be fair, Caitlyn and Donnie finally getting their act together was something to celebrate.

“Of course I’ll be there. I just finished up all this paperwork and am going to get some kip down in the bunker. What time?”

Ricky could just make out the rustle of bedding and a slew of French, and he smiled.

“Is Caitlyn talking in her sleep?”

“Yup. I haven’t a fucking clue what about, but it’s sexy as hell.” Donnie laughed. “According to Chester, it’s formal attire, so send one of the unis to yours to pick up your sexy clothes.”

“I will have you know, all of my clothes are sexy clothes, because I’m sexy AF.”

Ricky heard the vampire growl huskily down the phone, and the call disconnected. Ricky shook his head with a grin, knowing full well Donnie and Caitlyn were making up for lost time.

The phone vibrated again, and Ricky glanced down to see another call from Fionn. Ricky disconnected the call and headed down the hallway until he was able to descend the stairs to the bunker. This little home away from home had been built especially for the team, when they worked cases until the early morning and had to take shifts to sleep. They all had their own space, rooms that led off from a big kitchen that was stocked with everything you might need. Ricky’s room was just at the end of the stairs, and as soon as he kicked the door shut with his foot, he pulled his T-shirt over his head, flopping down on the bed.

Exhaustion riddled his bones, yet he found himself tossing and turning. Ricky’s body overheated, sweat breaking out on his brow. Magic, raw and pure, gnawed at him from the inside, and he was out of pills, having taken the last handful to get him through the paperwork. Draven sure as shit wasn’t about to give him any more, so Ricky knew tomorrow he’d have to get help in controlling his magic.

Maybe his da had been right—he should have paid attention to his magic long ago, not suppressing his potential to spite him. Ricky had never seen it that way. He simply wanted the chance to find out who he was, without the leash of his family name.

The sound of silence reverberated in his ears. Reaching out, he pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker and grabbed his wireless headphones, pulling them over his ears before closing his eyes. The soothing sound of the Foo Fighters greeted him, and closing his eyes, Ricky tried to banish thoughts of failure with music.

Ricky sat at the kitchen table, his fingers clenched together on the wood as his mother fixed a pot of tea while they awaited his da. Unlike any other family he knew, Ricky had to schedule this meeting with his parents over a week ago, his da’s work commitments and social obligations meaning any important conversations had to be held at a time that suited his da’s hectic day.

Now he could have had this conversation with just his mam, have her give his da the news, but if his da was going to have a meltdown over his decision, then he might as well have his mam for backup. Watching his mam bustle about, fixing tea for the ten minutes Xavier Moore had allocated his eldest son, Ricky felt sad that his mam seemed perfectly happy to be an armpiece when needed.

Xavier Moore came into the house a few seconds later, and Ricky listened as his da completed his home time ritual. Keys pinged as they were set down into the glass bowl on the side table, shoes being set down on the hardwood floor before his da slid his briefcase into the closet under the stairs. Ricky could hear Xavier tapping away at his tablet as he strode into the kitchen, pausing to kiss his wife’s cheek before he sat down across the table from Ricky.

Only when his da had taken a drink of his tea and set down his tablet organizer on the table, did he lift his eyes to look at Ricky. Settling back into the chair, Xavier checked his watch before he spoke.

“I have ten minutes until I have to answer a conference call from an American warlock. Get started, boy.”

Boy…it was always boy…

“I’ve made a decision about college, sir.”

Xavier’s brow quirked at the sir, knowing full well that his son would rather choke than call his da sir. His mam squeezed his shoulder as she sat down alongside Ricky, and he hesitated with his next words, waiting for his da to question him. A smack to the mouth the last time he had spoken out of turn had given him a split lip.

“I’m glad you have finally been man enough to make an informed decision. I assume business and magical politics will be your main areas of study?”

Ricky swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressing together in a firm line. “Well, boy…what will you be studying?”

Ricky’s mam fidgeted with the lace tablecloth, nervous as to how this was all going to turn out. Ricky squared his shoulders and looked his da dead in the eyes. If he was man enough to make an educated decision about his future, then he would sure as hell tell his da the truth.

“I’ve decided not to go to college at all, sir. I’ve signed up to join the Gardaí. I’m off to Templemore in two weeks.”

His mam covered her shock with a hand over her mouth while his da simply glared at him, his expression void of any indication that Ricky’s words had affected him. Not a word was spoken for several heartbeats, and Ricky counted them because he certainly could hear each one like a drum in his ear.

The silence was shattered when his da slammed his fist down on the table. The overly expensive china tea cups leapt out of their saucers, splashing liquid onto the wood. Ricky’s mam jumped in her seat, but he remained planted to the spot.

“Is your sole purpose on this earth to aggravate me, boy? No son of mine is going to waste his magical talents and join the Garda. You will go to college and you will gain all the necessary qualities to take over my seat on the council. Are we clear?”

“With all due respect, sir,” Ricky said with a calmness in his voice that surprised even him, “I am not the son to follow in your footsteps. I have only ever wanted to be either of two things, a musician or a cop. I have the chance to make a difference within the supernatural community. I’m not a legacy child, Da. I want to follow my own path.”

Flipping over the table using the air in the room, Xavier rushed Ricky, who didn’t move and took the blows like he did every time. Silent and empty. When his da had vented out his rage, he grabbed Ricky by the throat and shoved him, bloody and bruised against the kitchen wall.

“Xavier, please!”

Appreciative of his mam speaking out for him, a glare from his da halted her protests. “You have made me the laughing stock of the covens, boy. A laughing stock. The son with so much power who wants nothing to do with it. If you continue to live under my room, you will abide by my rules or you will never set foot in this house again. You will not see your mother or brother ever again.”

His mam was sobbing in earnest now, knowing Xavier Moore’s pledge would hold, for once he promised something, Xavier Moore never went back on his word.

Ricky had to do something that would make his da realize that he would be a victim of an expectation he would never live up to. Pushing forward, Ricky used the supressed rage and determination against his da and switched their positions. Xavier grunted in surprise as Ricky got in his face.

“You know what, Da. I’ve put up with a lot of shit over the years and that stops now. If you say I can’t be a cop and live under your roof, then that’s okay with me. I’ll pack up my stuff and go. But Mam makes up her own mind.”

Shoving off his da, Ricky fled the room and took the stairs two at a time, grabbing his already packed bag, his guitar, and the five hundred euros he’d managed to save up. Ricky was just about to stride right out the door when his mam stopped him.

“Don’t go, Richard. Please. I’ll try to talk your father around.”

Giving his mam a long hug, Ricky kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mam. But this was bound to happen. We are just far too different.”

Ricky opened the front door and took a step outside into the night air.

“Remember my words, boy. You will amount to nothing and come crawling back here for the legacy you so easily shy away from. It is my name that has kept you from harm and now, I will make sure that everyone out there knows Richard Moore is not my son.”

“And that’s the best goddamn present you will ever give me.”

Slamming the door shut, he tried to ignore his brother’s pleading face pressed against the window as he marched into the night, relief breathing new life into his lungs.

Not knowing how long he’d been asleep, Ricky became acutely aware that he was no longer alone in his room. Keeping his eyes closed, he felt a soft, feminine hand land on his chest, fingers gingerly tracing the outline of his pectoral muscles. Ricky waited as the new track from Queens of the Stone Age played through the headphones. As soon as those fingers began to head south, Ricky grabbed hold of the small wrist and slowly opened his eyes.

“That tickles.”

Melanie jerked back her hand as if he had burned her. Hair a glorious mass of fiery curls, lips a supple pink that begged to be kissed, her hands now firmly planted on her hips, the way she glared at him made Ricky want to tumble his Lanie into his lap and have his wicked way with her.

“Well, Mr. Snoory Pants. If you had heard me the last seventeen times I called out your name, then I wouldn’t have been forced to shake you.”

Ricky flashed her a grin. “That was not shaking. Did Sarge not give you the sexual harassment talk when you started? Maybe I should do up a PowerPoint?”

“Oh, shut up. Donnie told me to come remind you to wake up for the party. Now, I’m going to go back home and get ready.”

She didn’t move, her eyes stalking him, and Ricky pillowed his hands behind his head with the smuggest smile on his lips.

“See something you like?”

Melanie chewed on her bottom lip, and it was the most adorably sexy thing Ricky had ever seen.

“You’re staring, Lanie.”

“Well, if you weren’t lying there like the Irish version of Fabio, bare-chested and hair cast about in reckless abandon, then I’d have no need to stare.”

Ricky barked out a laugh so loud that Melanie simply stared at him perplexed.

“Someone’s been reading a little romance novel or two in their spare time.”

With a frown, Melanie spun around muttering that she was off.

“You going to wear something pretty?”

For me.

Those words seemed implied, though he never said them aloud. Ricky knew he was being a dick, holding her close and then putting this distance between them. By the gods, he wanted her. Yet, with Sadie, he had rushed head first into their relationship and it had turned sour. He really didn’t want that for Melanie. What he felt for Sadie paled in comparison to the fire that ignited his veins when his Lanie was near. If he fucked it up between them, then he would lose her friendship, and he wasn’t sure he could bare that.

“What I do or do not wear is none of your business.”

With that she stormed from the bunker as Ricky swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand, swaying as a wave of nausea and dizziness overtook him. He braced his hand against the cold stone of the wall to steady himself. Magic pushed against him, bucking for control, and his insides were boiling.

So, this was how he was going to die, alone and fried by his magic. The blood in his veins bubbled, popping like firecrackers against his bones, prying a groan from his lips. His skin was drenched with sweat moments later, as if he had stepped into a steam room. Flickers of blue sparked from his fingertips as his eyes closed and he grasped for control.

Stumbling from his bunker bedroom, Ricky all but fell into the bathroom and smacked the buttons to start the shower. Flipping the dial to freezing, he went under the ice-cold spray. Steam rose up, fogging the glass. Inhaling and exhaling, he tried to calm himself, but the magic in him taunted him…or maybe it was just his own goddamn mind.

Your da was right…you’ve amounted to nothing.

Stupid waste of space too stupid to control his magic.

He deserves to be alone for the rest of his miserable life.

Maybe, the next time I lose control, I could burn Melanie along with me.

Fire turns vampires to ash.

That last thought was enough to sober him as he let out a frustrated roar and shoved the magic back with such force that he punched out, smashing the glass door and sending the shards flying. The sound of it clinked against the tiles, and Ricky used his not so bloody hand to turn off the spray. Drenched from head to toe, he stepped out onto the glass, relishing in the sharp burn as the broken glass sliced into the soles of his feet.

Ignoring the mess in the bathroom, Ricky walked out of the room and halted, his

newest colleague perched on top of the counter, Ricky’s suit dangling from his fingers.

“Well, Chief, that was some ruckus in there. Everything okay?”

Ricky assessed Anna’s new resident warlock, who had a face to make teenage girls swoon, and scowled, ignoring the smile that made his dimples sink further into his cheeks and softened his face. This was the type of guy Melanie should be with. Not someone as rough around the edges as Ricky was.

“Yo, Chief? You with me?”

Ricky stalked by, taking the suit from Tadgh’s dangling fingers and continued, ignoring the man.

“I can help you with your little problem, Chief.”

Ricky cast a glance over his shoulder. “I ain’t got no problems, mate. I’m five by five.”

Stepping inside his bedroom, he was about to kick the door closed when Tadgh said.

“I can make sure the magic stays dormant for at least a day.”

Stepping back, Ricky tossed the suit onto the bed and leaned in the doorway.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Tadgh.”

Tadgh jumped down from the counter to face him. “Tremors, short temper, uncontrollable rage, that red tinge in those eyes of yours. You’re coming down with something, Chief. And I can help you with that.”

Panic flared inside Ricky’s chest as he snapped. “Listen, Chief. I’m not a fucking junkie, so you can take your BS and shove it right up your ass.”

Tadgh shrugged and made to leave, but not before he tossed a little baggy of small white tablets on the counter. “This is a little concoction I came up with. It had been an experiment as part of my thesis, a way to help very powerful children gain control of their magic slowly. But, it packed too much of a punch for kids, so now this little tablet helps to supress all magic and give you a teeny tiny kick at the same time. One tablet, every twenty-four hours, and boom, it’s just you rattling around in your head, no magic, no powers.”

Tadgh headed for the stairs, pausing only to say, “Try them or don’t. But from what I’ve seen, you are a ticking time bomb, Chief, and I know you don’t want to hurt those around you.”

When the door to the bunker closed, Ricky found himself compelled to walk over and pick up the baggy. The small white tablet was embossed with a rabbit shape, and Ricky had opened the bag before he thought about it.

What could it hurt, right?

One tablet couldn’t do much harm, now, could it?

The tablet was in his mouth before he could stop himself, and Ricky grabbed an open bottle of water off the counter and chugged back. Several moments passed and nothing happened. Ricky laughed, shaking his head that he had been so gullible. Blowing out a breath at his stupidity, Ricky made for his room when suddenly his back bowed.

Sweet, glorious agony flared for a second before the magic fled from his bones and he was just Ricky. These pills were so much more than the crap Draven had given him. He felt euphoric, like he could take on an army and be victorious. He chuckled, feeling a total disconnection from his body.

Trying to take a step forward, Ricky leaned to the side, welcoming the darkness that greeted him.

Dashing through the trees, the howl of the wolf was only outdone by the clash of thunder in the sky, like two warring monsters locked in battle. Lightning crashed to the ground mere inches from his feet, but the wolf would not be halted in its hunt for prey.

Emerging from the trees, the wolf yowled as nothing but scorch marks remained on the grass at the edge of the cliff. Muzzle leaning into the scorched earth, he caught scent of sunshine and sand. The scent of his mate. He pawed at the ground, as if to make sure she was not simply hiding from him.

Lifting his head, the wolf cried out to the moon above, sorrow at the failure to be fast enough to catch his mate who had run from him, leaving him alone, the pain of being separated from her a constant twist to his heart.

Inhaling the sweet scent of her one last time, the wolf careened back into the woods, tracking the pull he felt inside his gut. It was like he had locked onto her GPS, the lightning his beacon. And it was getting easier to track her.

He would find his mate, and he would find her soon.

And when he did, the wolf would sink his teeth into her flesh and bite her hard enough that she never ran from him again. She would know she belonged to him, and he to her.

If it took him until the end of time to find his mate, then so be it.

But he would not stop. He would not falter.

His mate depended on him.