Page 52 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Chapter Forty-One

Jesse

Jesse lay there, holding Lindy to him, thinking about everything that had happened.

He thought about the hybrids and the shitstorm he was facing with them and The Corporation.

He thought about Charley and the danger she was still in.

And he thought about Lindy, about how she had thrown a wrench into everything.

How she’d called to him on a baser level from the second he’d laid eyes upon her photograph.

About how his dick had sprung back to life—literally—and how being in her was the closest to paradise he'd ever managed.

Sex had never been like that for him before.

That amazing. That fulfilling. Sure, he’d gotten off on it, finding release, but that was the extent of it.

He’d never felt all-consumed and dare he say complete before.

And he sure as hell never bit anyone during it before.

But he had with her. Hell, he wanted to wake her and do it all again and again.

As his mind had a moment to process it all, he stiffened, his arm locking around her on the bed. He’d done it. He’d claimed her.

She claimed me back!

She is my mate!

He’d have panicked and over thought it all, but lightning flashed, illuminating the room.

For a split second, Jesse thought he saw movement outside the window.

He blinked but saw nothing. He stared harder and tapped into his other senses.

His beast, which had already done its version of curling up for a nap in him, didn’t seem to think anything was amiss.

Was the idea that he was now mated making him see shadows where there were none? Making him invent ways to run away?

Or was something or someone out there, watching the house?

Jesse lay there, his gaze locked on the window, looking for any sign something was afoul.

There was a slight tugging on his upper arms and chest, where Lindy had dug her nails into his skin and drew blood.

He glanced down at the area and watched it mend before his eyes.

Lindy’s succubus power still lingered in the air, and he was sure that had something to do with the rate at which the wound had healed.

His gaze slid back to the window, back to the spot he’d thought he’d seen something. Nothing was there, and his inner beast was still doing its version of post-sex relaxation. There was no way it would permit danger to get close without warning him.

Jesse closed his eyes, basking in the afterglow of mind-blowing sex, while he took the opportunity to push his thoughts and worries out of his head and simply enjoy the moment.

While he’d been determined to stay awake, just in case there was a threat nearby, the lure of sleep was too much.

The toll of the last few days came due, and the post-sex bliss he was enjoying gave way to him drifting off into oblivion.

Part of him knew he’d succumb to the lure of sleep and that he was starting to dream.

Yet, as the dream began, confusion came with it.

He was young, maybe seven or eight, sitting at a kitchen table while the morning sun streamed through the window above a sink. The home was small and modest, and it looked out of place—and time. Like something from the late 1800s.

The smell of pancakes filled the air. Laughter echoed throughout the kitchen. First his and then another boy’s—this one older than him by five or six years.

“No!” shouted the other boy as he smiled, his hand darting out, going for the last pancake on a plate in the center of the table. He almost knocked over a small tin vase with some wild yellow flowers in it. “It’s all mine.”

Jesse cackled with laughter, trying to get to the pancake first.

“Boys, more will be done soon,” a female voice said from somewhere behind Jesse.

The older boy waggled his brows and tried to steal the pancake all the same.

“Samuel,” said the woman.

“Aww, Momma, come on. I’m helping Pa at the mill today,” said the older boy. “I need to fill my belly.”

The woman chuckled. “I watched you eat six already. Let your little brother have it. Jesse only had three.”

Jesse reached out and touched Samuel’s arm. “Go on and take it. I ain’t that hungry anyhow.”

Samuel winked and then ripped the pancake in half, handing the bigger part to Jesse. “Eat up, and you can help me and Pa for a little bit at the mill today.”

Jesse lowered his head. “He don’t want me in the way up there. Old Merl says I’m a burden. That y’all got stuck with me.”

The woman sighed and set aside what she was doing. She came right for Jesse and bent, her hand finding his cheek. “You’re a gift. A blessing. You hear me? You shouldn’t be. You’re a miracle. And Old Merl and I are gonna have words. That old goat needs to mind his own affairs and stay out of ours.”

Jesse lowered his gaze. “The boys at school… they said my real pa’s a wicked man. A sinner. That I’m wrong. That I’m bad too. That I’m a Cul-bert-son. Not a Eyres.”

She glanced at Samuel.

He stiffened and nodded. “They cornered him the other day. By the time I got there, they’d already filled his head with nonsense, Momma. But don’t worry none. I handled them. No one touches my little brother. We Eyres stick together.”

“But I’m not your brother,” protested Jesse, his emotions all over the place.

“They said so. They said my real momma and our momma was sisters. That our momma is my Aunt Charlotte and that someone named Jane was my momma. And that my pa ain’t your pa.

That mine is a no-good evil monster. That I’m tainted. Against nature.”

The woman smoothed his hair with her hand. “You listen to me, young man. You may not have come to our family the normal way, but the minute they placed you in my arms when you were just a baby, I knew then—you were my son. Didn’t matter who your parents were, or what they’d done. You were mine.”

“ Ours ,” Samuel corrected. “You’re my brother. And you ain’t evil.”

The woman nodded, clearly emotional. “That’s right.”

Jesse’s eyes moistened. “But they were right? I have a different momma too?”

She nodded through her pending tears, continuing to stroke his hair. “Oh, sweetie, I wish you would have gotten to know my sister, Jane, and that she’d have gotten to know you. She’d have loved you so much, Jesse. Just like we do. And she’d be proud of you.”

He watched her closely. “Your sister had me in her belly?”

A lone tear escaped, and the woman wiped it away, smiling through her obvious pain. “She did. And she was so excited to get to be a mother and couldn’t wait to get to know you. She picked your name early on. Said whether you came out a girl or a boy, your name was gonna be Jesse.”

Jesse took in a deep breath. “She didn’t hate me none?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart. Never!” the woman said, her eyes widening. “She loved you so much and didn’t want to leave you. She didn’t get no say in the matter. We took you and welcomed you into our home and our hearts.”

“You were tiny, and all you wanted to do was eat and muddy your britches,” added Samuel.

The woman laughed. “Samuel. He was a baby. That’s what babies do.”

Samuel grinned mischievously.

The woman tapped Jesse’s nose lightly. “And you are not underfoot at the mill, sweetheart. You just have to be careful. You could get hurt there. That’s why you gotta listen to Pa and Samuel.”

Jesse nodded and glanced toward Samuel. He looked away fast.

The woman sighed. “I can see the doubt creeping in. Samuel loves being a big brother. Don’t let his teasing you, fool you any.

” She ruffled Jesse’s hair. “When you were just a baby, Samuel would carry you all around the homestead, showing you everything, telling you about it all, helping you learn and guiding you. He was a proud big brother then, and he’s even prouder of you now. ”

“He is?” asked Jesse, sniffling.

“Yes, and if them boys start in on you again, they’ll be sorry,” said Samuel, his eyes swirling with color as a low growl came from him.

“Samuel! Ain’t no shifting at the table,” warned the woman as she stood, wiping her hands on her apron. “You know the rules. Now, you and your brother need to finish eating.”

The moment felt so real and so true. Yet it couldn't be. He and Samuel weren’t brothers. That wasn’t something one forgot. Hell, they could barely be in the same room together before the lab incident. And he’d not seen the man since then.

Jesse thought about the fierce need he’d had to see to Charley’s safety, even with as much as he disliked her father. And how he felt when he knew other men had seen her photo with her only wearing a bikini.

The room fell away like smoke in the wind, leaving behind an old mill of sorts. Samuel was there, dressed like he’d stepped out of the 1870s. Jesse glanced down to find himself dressed much like Samuel was.

Samuel was working with a handheld, old-style tool, shaving down a piece of wood. He laughed and nodded toward Jesse. “Brother, that wood won’t cut itself.”

Jesse attempted to use a tool that was much like the one Samuel was holding.

Samuel shook his head. “Not like that. Here. I’ll show you.”

Jesse watched as Samuel showed him how to use the tool properly. Samuel then ruffled Jesse’s hair and winked.

“You try,” said Samuel.

Jesse didn’t take the tool. Instead, he went at Samuel fast, hugging him around the waist.

Samuel chuckled. “What’s that for?”

“Being the best big brother,” returned Jesse.

The scene dissolved, reforming, and suddenly, he and Samuel were standing in a bedroom in the far past. Not like modern bedrooms today.

There was no television, no electronics of any sort.

There was a black and white framed photo of a man, a woman, and two boys on the wall.

The woman was the same one from the kitchen.

The one he and Samuel had called mother.

He and Samuel were grown now, no longer little boys.