Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,25

stood and flicked off the bedroom light.

Dead leaned on the open doorway, all doused in shadows with the living room light behind him. Shadows and highlights accented his chiseled jaw, the curves of his arms, his abs. Handsome man. “I’ll sleep on one of the bunk beds.”

“Gentleman.”

His smile turned crooked. So, sooo handsome. “Don’t tell anyone, though. I have a horrid reputation to uphold.”

She zipped her lips. “Your secrets are safe with me.” She hugged a pillow to her stomach and turned serious. “All of your secrets are safe.”

His eyes were so soft, so steady on her. “Goodnight, Raven.”

“Sleep like the dead, Dead.”

Chapter Seven

Sleep like the dead, Dead.

“You embarrassed me in front of all of those people!” Mom shouted.

A whimper escaped him, and he drew his little knees to his chest as he cowered in the corner.

“I knew your daddy was a monster, but I didn’t know he was like those—those—shifters! And now he put that monster in you, and what am I supposed to do? Huh? I didn’t sign up for this!”

“I can say I’m sorry to them,” he squeaked out. “I didn’t mean to.” I’m scared. That hurt. There is a bull inside of me, and now I can feel him. I’m scared! I’m scared!

“You know what? Don’t even bother. They won’t want to be friends with me after this. I have a freak for a son. Who would want to be involved with what’s going on?” Her hair was tight in a ponytail this morning, and it made her bright green eyes look even meaner. “Huh? Answer me. Who would want to do this with us?”

“I don’t—”

“Answer me!”

“I don’t understand,” he wheezed out. I’m so scared. And the bull inside of me feels like he’s getting big again.

“Want me to kill her?” a voice rumbled through his head. He shook his head hard and whimpered. I’m scared.

Mom sighed and rested her hands on her hips, shook her head. “I’m going to fix this for you because that’s what good mommas do. They fix their children.”

Fix me?

“I’ve already contacted people who can help us. You’re going to be normal again. Don’t worry. I’ll make it all right. My baby boy is dead right now, but I’m going to get you back.”

He was dead? He looked out the window at the falling snow, and nothing made sense anymore. Nothing. It was so cold. Deep winter. He was dead? I’m scared.

“Momma has to go meet with someone for a little while, and it’s best you stay here. Don’t want to risk taking you in public if that thing will come out of you again. I’m going to meet with someone very important. Someone like you who will teach me how to fix you.”

The animal was getting too big. He hated Mom. His blood was boiling with a mixture of rage and fear. Pain blasted through his head, and he whispered out, “Momma, help,” as he doubled over in agony. It happened so fast, and then he was on four legs. And then he was standing, head down, heart filled with something dark that made his whole body hurt.

Momma screamed, “You’re an abomination!” She moved to close the door. She would lock him in here.

And then the young bull charged.

Dead sat up with a gasp and hit his head on the bunk bed above him. “Mother…freaking…son of a Pegasus. Ballsack.” He rubbed the knot on the top of his head.

That was his least favorite dream-memory ever. It was the birth of his bucking name. Thanks, Ma.

Warmth trickled down his eyebrow, and he squeezed his eyes closed so blood wouldn’t get inside. Dead shoved off the bed and made his way to the bathroom in the dark. The cut had already slowed it’s bleeding by the time he wiped it off with a folded wet tissue. He locked his arms against the sink and stared at himself. He looked haunted right now.

This was the time he always went to the bar. The only cure he’d found for the memories was a in a bottle of whiskey. His keys were by the door.

In the bedroom, Raven sighed in her sleep, and he turned his ear toward the sound. He didn’t want to wake her up, but just that little noise that said he wasn’t alone eased the tightness in his chest.

He didn’t really want to go to a bar. They would close in an hour, and he felt anchored here. He didn’t want to leave Raven.

But pieces of that memory and a hundred