by Helen Scott
“Thanks for what?” she demanded.
“Giving me a hard-on. You wearing panties?”
Her cheeks blazoned bright pink with heat. “You did not just ask me that!”
As she tried to skirt around me to get to the bottom of the steps, I lifted up the back of her shirt and felt like drooling some more at the sight of two pert ass cheeks separated by a thin sliver of lace.
Maker, this woman was fine, and the best part? She was all mine.
My cock was definitely back in action, and I was going to take it as a good sign that I was finally recuperating. About fucking time.
“What are you doing down here dressed like that?” Keiran questioned, his scowl just as fierce as her blush.
“She’s giving the prisoners a show before we slit their throats,” I commented with no small amount of satisfaction, and the sudden stench of shit had me pulling a face. “You guys are fucking gross,” I told our prisoners. “I swear, I didn’t shit myself when Juno Hicks had us tied up in that slaughterhouse for three months, and he was a doing a damn sight more to us than we are to you. Huh, there’s an idea. Maybe we should get a cattle prod.”
Marcella grumbled at me, but Barclay turned around and nipped my thigh. “Motherfucker! That stung like a bitch,” I groused at him, rubbing the spot. “You’d better not have given me rabies.”
“Do shifters get rabies?” Marcella inquired.
“No, but that doesn’t mean the principle isn’t one and the same,” I huffed, then saw Raven eying us like we were the freak show and he was a kid just dying for the entertainment to start. “We amusing you or something?”
He smirked at me. “What do you think?”
I shot Elizabeth a look. She was new to the Inquisition and her face was drawn, her features pinched, but even better she’d passed out. “She tell you anything?”
“Only when Barclay made an appearance in her mind.” He reached up and rubbed his chin in surprised contemplation. “That came as a shock to all three of us, I think,” he mocked.
“How did he do that?” Keiran questioned, his usual scowl gracing his brow—I swear, the dude was lucky we were salsangs and didn’t age like humans, otherwise he’d need a shit ton of Botox to get rid of all the wrinkles.
“I have no idea,” Rav retorted, “but I’m glad. She showed me something.”
“Something what?” Marcella pressed, and there was such hope in her voice, it gutted me. Mostly because it was entwined with longing and fear. I understood how powerful the cocktail was, understood how detrimental it could be, but in this instance, we were all in the same boat.
Gideon was ours.
We’d kill for him, die for him.
That was just how we rolled.
“I think she lied to us about her involvement with the drugs. I think Kronos does something to the brain. It messes with the subconscious or the prefrontal cortex.” He drummed his fingers against the silver gurney Elizabeth was strapped to, and the noise echoed around the chamber. Each time his finger connected with the metal, the prisoners flinched as though he’d let off a bullet. “It means their brains don’t function how we’re accustomed to.”
“Sounds like you’re spouting shit to me,” I told him, my tone bored as I leaned back against the steps—the extra blood that had flowed from my brain to my cock had apparently made me shaky again.
Maker, I hated being ill. It fucking sucked.
Rav flipped the bird at me. “Like you’d know, Sleeping Beauty.” Though I scowled at him, he just ignored me and carried on explaining, “Elizabeth was helping produce Kronos, and she was using her pursang boyfriend’s blood to manufacture it.”
“You mean she wasn’t just involved in the distribution?” Marcella inquired, seeking clarification, and I couldn’t blame her.
“She was involved all right, but not in the way we thought. She is using though. And she’s definitely addicted.”
Barclay whined, but it was for attention, it wasn’t because he didn’t agree. He nodded his head eagerly, drool slobbering from his chops and hitting the ground.
I’d say it was gross but this basement floor had seen far worse than a bit of doggy drool.
“Why isn’t he shifting?” Raven asked, his attention diverted by Barclay’s whine.
“We don’t know.”
Rav blinked. “Maker, it’s been a while since I last saw him. At the bank?”
We shot each other concerned looks. “That’s a long time to go without shifting back—”
Barclay whined, nodding his head again like one of those dogs you stuck on the dash of a car. If he bobbed it anymore, he’d look like he was on the hunt for apples in a bowl of water on someone’s front stoop on Halloween.
I reached over and stroked my hand over his head. He calmed somewhat, but he was darting glances at each of us, craning his neck so we couldn’t avoid the fact that he was trying to communicate something to us—in this instance, that he couldn’t communicate with us.
“Wonder when Gid wakes up, if he’ll shift again,” I pondered out loud.
Keiran shrugged. “Maybe. They’re the only two of us who are intrinsically tied to the Earth. It would make sense that Barclay is affected by the pull on Gideon’s reserves.”
That had me narrowing my eyes at him. “If they’re both tied to the Earth, then why aren’t they in the earth?”
Marcella hissed, “Where we bonded. We should put him out there.”
“He’ll burn,” Rav argued, and he had a point. We could go in the sun but extended exposure, as with all creatures, could lead to sunburn, and we were more sensitive to that than humans thanks to our biological make-up.
“Like that matters. It’s not like he’ll turn into ash, for Maker’s sake,” Keiran argued. “Marcella’s right. That’s where he last recharged, isn’t it?”
Our Sixth nodded. “Definitely. He was fully charged when I’d had my way with him.”
There wasn’t a hint of coyness to the statement, but my cock still reacted, and shit, my body didn’t have enough strength to be dealing with another semi in less than fifteen minutes.
“If we dump him there, let him soak up some sun, do you think he’ll wake up?” Keiran asked, and just like Marcella, I heard the hope entangled with fear in his voice.
I understood.
We couldn’t lose Gid.
It just wasn’t an option.
I mean, sure the dude took himself way too seriously, and dour? Maker, the man needed to lighten up some, but he was our brother. One of us. He had to make it back to us. He just had to.
Scenting Darius at the top of the steps, I twisted around and looked up at him as he began to head down the stairs. Bastard looked everything I wasn’t—composed and rested. He also wore a very expensive suit that I knew caught Marcella’s eye. “Mother’s meeting?” he inquired.
“Huh?” I replied. What the hell was that?
He sighed. “Never mind. Maker spare me from being around six youths.”
“Hey, we can’t help it that you’re so old you’re falling apart.”
Darius narrowed his eyes at me, but as was his way lately—and disappointing it was because I liked pissing him off—he just turned to Marcella, slipped his hand around her waist, and hauled her into his side with a possessiveness that should have pissed me off, but fuck, if I wasn’t unsteady on my feet, then I’d have done the same the second she came down here looking like a roll in the hay personified.
“Why are you down here? You’re supposed to be resting, piccola.”
She winced. “I couldn’t. I felt Barclay doing something weird.”
Raven went still at that. “Something weird? What do you mean?”
She reached up and tugged at her bottom lip. “I’m not sure. I just knew he was trying to communicate.”
Darius frowned, and because he was in the dark, I explained, “We just figured out that Barc hasn’t shifted since that day at the bank.”
The Enforcer’s eyes widened in surprise, th
en he released a hissed out breath. “Of course,” he grumbled, sliding a hand over his neat hair—seriously, the dude needed to get mussed up some. He was way too perfect, and he was making us look like serious slackers in the looks department.
Then, I realized what he’d said. “Of course?” There was no of course about it, was there?
He firmed his jaw and spat, “Come with me.”
And hell, that was pure Enforcer and all of us knew we had no choice but to do as we were told, and if that didn’t suck, I wasn’t sure what did.
Chapter Three
Marcella
While the desert landscape was beautiful, fascinating enough to deserve further study, I was getting sick of looking at it. Not just because we were stuck here until we figured out what the fuck was going on with Gideon, but because Darius was supposed to be explaining something and he’d yet to utter a word.
He was pacing, just as he had been for the last few minutes, as though he was trying to organize his thoughts. The problem was, I was running out of patience.
“What were you talking about, Mate?” I asked softly, using the one word that was pretty much guaranteed to get his attention.
His dark eyes darted to mine, devouring me with a single glance. Part of me wished I wasn’t as attracted to him as I was, but I was fighting a losing battle. I needed, no, we needed to finalize the bond between us, and dissolve some of this tension that was crackling along my skin like I was standing too close to a fire.
“It is something I’ve suspected for a long time, and, if I’m honest, part of why I chose Barclay to be in this brotherhood.” He paused and sighed.
I glanced at my guys only to find Cade, and surprisingly Keiran, looking ready to throttle Darius. I politely cleared my throat and nodded for him to continue when he looked at me once again.
For a second, he stared at me, and I knew he was devouring me with his eyes, then he seemed to regain his composure and bit out, “I believe Barclay is what we call an Alpha Shifter. He has the ability not only to stay in his wolf form for longer than normal without losing his human self, but also to...” He hesitated, seeming to struggle to find the right words. “Take part in other’s abilities. If he touches you, piccola, while you are weaving your shadows, then he could possibly become shadow himself, or help you direct the shadows using his enhanced senses. There isn’t a lot known about Alpha Shifters, especially because they are exceedingly rare as salsangs. Alpha Shifters are usually just that, shifters, and as the name implies they are often either Alphas or loners, since they are unwilling to kowtow to another Alpha.”
After a moment of silence where the only sound was birds calling back and forth to one another, I wondered what Darius wasn’t saying. What I was missing as I failed to read between the lines.
I had a feeling that was supposed to be a bombshell, but was it? Really? All the brothers’ skills were above average, why shouldn’t Barclay’s be too?
“So you suspected Barclay had this ability all along?” I asked softly, trying to feel the situation and figure out what had Darius so on edge.
“I did. There were a few times where he showed the potential for it during training.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Raven demanded, anger burning through each word like a raging fire.
“I didn’t want him to think he was something he was not. It makes sense that with the boost of power from having a Sixth, his mate, has brought the ability to the fore.” Darius crossed his arms over his chest, clearly feeling the brunt of being interrogated by salsangs that he’d never imagined having to answer to.
“I’m assuming you think this all links together somehow, but what does Barclay being an Alpha Shifter have to do with Gid not waking up?” I asked, looking over at the guys since that was what we had been talking about before Darius interrupted.
Darius smoothed down hair that was ruffled by the wind as he explained, “Even though his human side isn’t lost, that doesn’t mean he’s in control. If his wolf feels the threat is still there, then it won’t relinquish control until the threat has passed or it feels like ‘human Barclay’ can handle it.”
“Maybe it’s our guests?” Keir suggested, sipping on a bottle of beer. I had no idea where it had come from or when he’d grabbed it, but I was a little jealous. I didn’t drink often, nothing said danger like uncontrolled power and booze, but I felt like after the last few weeks I could use a beer. Or ten.
“That is a very good suggestion,” Darius acknowledged, his tone slightly condescending. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he sniped.
I scowled over at him, and he just shrugged as though he didn’t understand when he did—my silent look told him to stop being a dick. Stat.
“That aside, and if it is related to Gid, I think we’ve got everything we can out of most of them, except maybe Elizabeth, but the Kronos appears to have altered the way her mind works, and it’s like driving through oncoming traffic,” Raven said as he rubbed the back of his neck. Pain flashed over his features, and I reached over to grab his hand and bridge his fingers with mine. He squeezed them and shot me a tired smile before sinking back into his seat.
“We can have the council take care of the others and just hold on to Elizabeth for now, until I can speak with her parents,” Darius proposed, almost talking to himself more than the rest of us. “That’s an option. They can’t stay down there forever.”
I wished they could. I pretty much wanted them to suffer for an eternity.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Would putting Gideon in the ground where he last recharged help?” I looked over at the Enforcer, studying him for any clues in his body language as to whether or not the idea was a good one. Most of the time, it wasn’t what Darius said, but what his body did. The man had a poker face, but I was getting better at reading his signals. A faint tension in his arms here, the way the sinews in his throat grew sharper there. Each involuntary tic meant something, and I was starting to learn his own personal language.
He rubbed his chin as though he had a beard there and was surprised to find smooth skin. “It couldn’t hurt, especially if we put an umbrella up or something so he doesn’t burn.” His words and tone told me he was still as much in the dark now as he had been before, and that had disappointment setting in. Revelations on Barclay’s potential aside, we’d learned pretty much fuck all today.
“Okay, well, I think we should try that and if it doesn’t work then we will need to figure something else out,” I said, while silently begging the Maker that it would reap some benefit.
Each day without Gideon tore at my control in a way that I doubted my other mates understood.
“If that doesn’t work then I will call in the Cavalry,” Darius stated matter-of-factly.
All of us just stared at him. At his easy posture, his calm grace.
Anger swirled inside me as he stated grimly, “What? They aren’t the boogeyman under your bed or the monster in the closet like some teachers want you to believe. They are just old, very, very old. However, they have one member, Rhys, who is talented with manipulating blood and the body in general, so he may be able to help.”
“And why didn’t we call him earlier?” I asked, grinding the words out as my frustration level hit a new high with my mate.
Darius walked over to me and dropped down onto his knees in front of me, taking my hands in his. “I don’t think you understand what a large request this is for me. I do not like owing anyone anything, but I am willing to owe them a favor to get Gideon back on his feet, to make this team whole once more.”
“Then allow me to owe them. If this was an option, you should have mentioned it a while ago, not just now. I’ll give them whatever the fuck they want. I just need Gid back here, with us.” I wanted to shove him out of the way, wanted to push him aside but he was like a fucking tree. Rooted to the ground and going nowhere.
“That’s my concern, Marcella. If they knew what your powers were, Mate, then they would take advantage of that favor, which i
s not something you want.” He leaned down and kissed my knuckles.
“That’s not your decision to make,” I argued, my voice a low growl. “Although you might not realize it because you’ve been around a while, I’m not a child. I have a mind of my own and like to exercise my free will whenever possible.”
“Sweetness, he’s right. These are not people you want to owe,” Cade cautioned, his eyes looking at me like he was scared to upset me any further, and yet couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.
A frustrated grunt erupted from me. This was one of my brotherhood we were talking about. One that was unresponsive. One that was barely alive. One that deserved better than this pisspoor treatment.
I didn’t even realize I had made a plan until it was in action. It was stupid, maybe, and I might well have been leaping ahead without looking, but all I could think of was Gideon.
He needed me to fight for him.
With that urgency taking over, I swamped the area around us in shadows so thick that it looked like it was darker than midnight. The only difference was, since it was my shadow, I could see through it better than anyone else. I went to push Darius away from me, and when he reached to stop me, I let him catch me.
The struggle that ensued gave me ample time and opportunity to pilfer his cell phone. As soon as I had it secured in my jeans’ pocket, I pulled away from him in earnest, wrenching out of his grasp which, although stronger than anyone else I’d known, was not strong enough to stop me when I was determined. As the shadow dispersed, I sent multiple illusions of myself out into the world, all running in different directions.
“Marcella!” my mates called, over and over again as I moved farther and farther away from them.
I knew they would expect the one running toward the house to be my true self, which was exactly why it wasn’t. My feet carried me at full speed, something which I hadn’t been able to experience since Westbrook, into the desert and the mountains that were just beyond the property. I considered myself far enough away when I couldn’t even see the house anymore—well, I probably could since I’d climbed the mountain closest to us, but I couldn’t tell from here which one was the house we were staying in.
