Skin Walkers

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Skin Walkers Page 6

by Susan A Bliler


  Chapter 12

  Anger sparked in the depths of Briel’s amber eyes, sending flares of emerald and hazel erupting with her heightened emotions. “I don’t need your help. I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t want it. Fena and I are leaving.”

  After getting Fena settled into the massive bed in his suite, Tyce had led Briel to the library where they’d currently been arguing for what had to be hours. He’d been trying to explain things to her…okay, probably not in the most direct way, but it didn’t matter. Briel wasn’t having it. She was argumentative and quick-witted, and on several occasions she’d left him speechless. He’d tried making her stay at Apex sound like a hospitable gesture on his part. He explained that she and Fena couldn’t be safer anywhere else in the world. He’d even gone so far as to offer to allow her to keep a weapon in his room, or her room as it was now. She wouldn’t relent, and her plea for release was getting old. Worse, her fiery attitude made her cheeks flare with color and her eyes spark with challenge. Both of which had Tyce’s cock hard as a rod. His balls were drawn up so tight that he kept alternating between fisting his hands and scraping his nails over his scalp in a useless attempt to ease the affliction pounding through him. He wanted Briel. He wanted to rush her, spin her around and rip her pants down before sliding into her wet slit and happily dying there.

  “Are you even listening?” she snapped, drawing his attention.

  While the deep timbre of his tone was meant to be soothing, his words were clipped. “With or without your consent, you will be protected.”

  Briel didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and made for the door. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she bit out sarcastically.

  Goddamn, she was a feisty little thing. A mere few hours ago she’d been cowering in fear, eyes filled with tears as she’d promised to give him anything he wanted in exchange for the safety of her sister and now here she was. Apparently, he’d succeeded in convincing her that she was safe from him because her vitriol had come fast and hard.

  When her hand closed around the doorknob she added, “Have a good life, Mr. Steele.”

  Something inside him snapped. She was trying to run again, and he couldn’t have that. No, she was his and she needed to understand, but right now he couldn’t formulate a fucking sentence. His teeth punched through his gums so fast that his mouth flooded with blood. Fuck! He was practically feral as he closed the space between them so quickly he blurred. Inside he was commanding his inner beasts to calm the fuck down while at the same time the man in him hated the fact that Briel wouldn’t acquiesce. He was at a loss, and an afflicted Walker faced with the loss of his Angel was a dangerous thing. Panicked and enraged in equal measure, he acted on instinct, realizing too late that this particular mistake could cost him dearly.

  ***

  Shock tore through Briel when Tyce caught her arm and spun her to him. His treatment was rough, and she was going to let him have it, but before she could react, he caught her around the waist and clamped her to him. She opened her mouth to tell him to get his hands off her but gasped instead when she saw blood pouring from his mouth where long, wicked-looking incisors were exposed by peeled back lips. He looked lethal, terrifying.

  She didn’t even get the chance to blink before his hand lifted and ripped something from his throat, thrusting the shiny object toward her. As it locked around the slender column of her throat, a high-pitched whine filled the air and there was a bright flash of ethereal light. It was the same light and sound as when Tyce crashed to his knees at the motel.

  Tyce stared down at her with a satisfied glint in his eyes.

  The object…it took only a moment for her to place it before all thought fled. Her muscles melted and when her knees buckled, she went lax in Tyce’s arms. Her vision began collapsing until, in the space of a few short moments, everything was nearly black. She fought for consciousness even as Tyce lifted her effortlessly into the cradle of his arms and simply stood staring down at her, eyes intense as he studied her face.

  Briel fought to keep her eyes open, shoving weakly at Tyce’s arms. She whispered a breathy, “Why?” As her world faded to black, the last thing she saw was Tyce lowering his head as he pressed his blood coated lips to hers.

  Chapter 13

  Tyce was wearing a rut into the hardwood floor of his office. Hands fisted in his hair, chest heaving, his eyes sparked with emotion as an unsettling amount of resentment settled over him. Everything had changed. In the space of one mission, one flight, one encounter, his whole world flipped. He hated it. Not Briel, it wasn’t her fault, but he hated that he’d walked head first and unknowing into something that had forever changed his world. He wanted a re-do. He wanted to go back and change how his first encounter with Briel and Fena had gone. He wanted to take his halo back and keep it until she understood fully what the gift of it meant.

  The phone on his desk rang and he glared at it mutinously. It’d been ringing incessantly since he’d arrived back at Apex and he knew who’d be on the other end of the line when he picked up. He kept right on pacing. The phone stopped ringing and he felt a mental nudge indicating a Walker was attempting to contact him telepathically. For a moment, he considered ignoring the attempt, but he had yet to hear from Conn and his team who’d flown home separately because…well, because Tyce was too worked up to have other Walkers near his Angel while she remained unclaimed. It’d been a shit thing to do to his team, but most of them were unmated, and having them holed up in a tiny jet with Briel while he was still afflicted wasn’t going to work, so he’d arranged a separate flight for them.

  He stopped walking and permitted the telepathic contact.

  “Tyce,” Monroe greeted, far too merrily for Tyce’s liking. “Heard you were back at Apex. I assume the mission went well?”

  “You fuck!”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

  Tyce didn’t even bother keeping the snarl from his tone when he demanded, “What do you want?”

  “My package. That was the deal, right? You get the money, I get the woman.”

  “Don’t fucking toy with me, Monroe. You’re not getting Briel or Fena. Deals off and you fucking know it! And if for one second you even think about playing your games with my Angel, I will fucking end you! I am not one of your Sentries; I am not one of your Walkers. You’d better tread lightly where Briel and Fena are concerned.”

  A weighty sigh filled Tyce’s head before Monroe spoke. “Well, that’s just bad business.”

  “This isn’t business. It’s personal now and you fucking know it! You knew what you were doing. You knew what I would find!”

  “You were supposed to find the safe house. All you wanted was the cash, remember?”

  “Is there even a safe house? Any treasure? How long have you been planning this, you ambitious dick?”

  “When you have great enemies,” Monroe smiled through the mist, “you need great ambition.”

  “You’ve started something here you can’t undo. I hope you know that.”

  “Ahh,” Monroe chided. “So, there was a treasure after all.” And then he hurled Tyce’s own words back at him. “Time to concentrate your efforts on the lovey-dovey affliction bullshit. Perhaps you and your team should travel here to StoneCrow Estates and see how a Walker facility is supposed to be run.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Tyce snapped. “I wounded your precious fucking ego, so you sought revenge?”

  “Revenge?” Monroe’s tone turned lethal. “Regardless of your naïve beliefs, the affliction is a gift. Your Angel. Is. A. Gift. And she’s not just a gift to you, but to all Walkers. She’s gonna teach you in a few short days what I couldn’t convince you of over the past five years. Apex will become the fortress it needs to be. You will take more caution with exposing our existence to the public. You will learn to keep your foolhardy, adventure seeking ass at Apex instead of going on missions with your men…”

  “Why in the hell would I do that?”

  “Because if you die or get captured,
who’s gonna take care of your family? That’s what they are, you know. Briel and Fena are going to become your fucking world. And one day, Tyce Steele, you’re going to thank me, and you’re going to mean it.”

  The connection severed and Tyce, who’d stopped pacing to brace his arms on his desk, cleared the desktop of all its contents in one vicious swipe.

  A knock at the door jerked him upright and he roared, “WHAT?”

  Conn stepped inside, and the good Commander didn’t even bother hiding his grin. “Dominant Tyce Steele, finally afflicted.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door, camo-clad legs crossed in a relaxed pose. “It’s not that bad, you know.”

  Tyce shook his head. “She’s going to make me vulnerable. Hell, she already has, and I haven’t even claimed her yet.”

  “There’s power in vulnerability.”

  “Like hell!” Tyce circled his desk and dropped into the dark leather chair. “The very definition of vulnerable is diminished, compromised, or lacking. There’s no power in that.”

  Conn’s eyes narrowed on Tyce. “No, but there’s power in what you’d do for her. There’s power in the emotion she’ll evoke from you. Lucky little lady just became the most coveted creature on the face of the earth and doesn’t even know it. Does she?”

  Tyce lowered his eyes, turning in his chair to stare at the snow gently peppering the night sky outside his window. “If you’re asking if she knows that she’s mine, the answer is no. I haven’t told her.”

  “Don’t wait.” Conn shoved off the door and paced toward the desk. “In every instance I know of where a Walker waited, it cost his Angel. Don’t make her pay for your fear or your pride, Tyce.”

  A snarl ripped from him before he dipped his chin to glare up at Conn. “Nothing is going to happen to Briel.”

  Conn lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Wasn’t a threat. Just a warning, and one I’m giving from experience. Even before the affliction, Aries felt significant to me. I tried to downplay it, even ignore it. I shouldn’t have. I should have pursued her and protected her like she was already mine. Remy took her, and…” He swallowed hard and shook his head, his eyes taking on a far-off look. “When I saw her in that hospital bed, all messed up…” his hands fisted. “I hated Remy, wanted to kill him.” His eyes focused on Tyce. “But I hated myself more. If I hadn’t been such a coward, I’d have admitted to myself and to Aries what I knew from the start. She was mine.”

  Tyce sighed and some of the tension left him. “I have no intentions of ignoring the fact that Briel is my Angel. I know it, and I’m not running from it.”

  Conn’s eyes dipped to the brand on Tyce’s throat where his halo had been. “Another scar?”

  Tyce grinned. “Another scar,” he confirmed. “And this one was probably the most painful of them all.” His smile faded. “She tried to make a run for it and I panicked.”

  “You collared her out of fear? Does she even know what it means?”

  Shaking his head slowly, Tyce chuffed a humorless laugh. “I didn’t have the chance to explain before, and she’s still out, so…”

  Conn barked a laugh before offering, “One day, one of us is actually gonna do this thing right.”

  Tyce shoved up out of his chair and strode toward the door. “Clearly, it won’t be me. Now get your ass outta my office, I need to go check on my Angel.”

  As he passed Conn, the Commander lifted his hand and clapped Tyce on the shoulder. “Welcome to the club, brother.”

  Tyce groaned and Conn was back to laughing.

  Chapter 14

  Briel woke with a start. A sense of urgency swamped her, and it took a moment for her memory to come flooding back as she eyed the unfamiliar surroundings of the room she was in. The bed beneath her was soft, but she pushed up off it.

  Tyce! He’d attacked her…no, not attacked, but… Lifting a shaky hand, her fingers clamped around the cold band locked around her throat. It was like the one she’d seen on Monroe StoneCrow and the Skin Walker from the video her father had shown her. She jerked hard, trying to rip the thing off, but it wouldn’t budge. She felt all around it, trying to find a catch or clasp of some sort but there was none. She didn’t know what the collar did, or what it meant, but the dread filling her told her that it couldn’t be good.

  Fena! The collar issue would have to wait for later because right now, horror swept through Briel at the realization that Fena wasn’t on the bed with her. Her feet hit the floor, but as she took a step toward the door, the room spun violently. She barely kept herself from going down, and when she was steady enough, she lifted a hand to her head, massaging her pounding temple. She desperately wanted to lie back down, but forced herself to stay upright, swallowing hard and pinching her eyes shut against the waves of dizziness and nausea crashing over her. A few deep breathes settled her somewhat, and she slowly opened her eyes.

  The room she was in was the size of her first apartment. Dark mahogany furniture sat elegantly throughout the space. A bureau and dresser stood closer to the sleigh bed, while the other end of the room housed a quaint sitting area with two leather reading chairs facing each other in front of a large hearth.

  Turning, she eyed the large window partially hidden by floor-length crimson drapes. The room felt regal, but Briel felt anything but. She considered trying to make an escape out the window and going for help, but she couldn’t leave Fena behind. There was no choice but to go in search of her, but the longer she stood and plotted her course of action the more her legs wobbled. Suddenly, her stomach heaved, and she doubled over, lowering to a knee to keep from falling over as she moaned inwardly. Ohhhh, I need water.

  There was a carafe and glass on the small bedside table and she eyed it longingly before rising and shuffling toward the door. Her own needs could wait. First, she had to find Fena. She only made it two steps before she had to stop. One hand was clamped on her belly and the other was massaging her head when the door clicked open and Tyce strode in.

  At the sight of her, his confident stride stuttered to a halt as he growled, “Get back in bed.”

  Briel’s hands lowered to her sides where they balled into tight fists. It took everything she had to pretend she didn’t want to drop to her knees and puke. Her words clawed their way up from her parched throat. “Wh-where’s my sister?”

  “She’s here. She’s fine, safe.”

  How could she have let this happen? Poor Fena must be so terrified. Briel had one job in this life, and that was to protect her sister, yet here she stood, drugged or something worse, with no idea where Fena was.

  She lifted her chin, feigning confidence that was belied by the tremble in her voice. “I-I wanna speak to whoever’s in charge.”

  Tyce’s stern expression didn’t change. “I’m in charge.” He jerked his chin toward the bed but kept his eyes pinned on her. “Get back in bed.”

  “I want to see Fena.”

  “If you’re feeling up to it, I’ll have her brought in shortly.” He lifted a hand and jabbed it toward the bed. “Get. Back. In. Bed.”

  Another wave of nausea crashed over Briel and she lowered her head, trying to bite back the moan creeping up her throat. Her hands, which were still fisted in anger, were now shaking with the effort of remaining upright. Sweat dotted her nose and forehead and her limbs began to tremble.

  “Fuck!”

  In two strides, Tyce was on her. Briel couldn’t even muster up a good struggle as he scooper her up and carried her back to the bed where he settled her gently before pouring her a glass of water. “You’re not well. I’m sorry.”

  And he damn well should be, because she had a feeling her illness was his fault. She’d been fine before he’d done whatever it was that had knocked her out.

  “What did you do to me?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Lifting a shaking hand to the band around her throat, she fisted it. “I want this thing off!”

  Tyce held the glass out to her. “Not happening, Angel.”r />
  “I want Fena here! She and I are leaving.” It came out sounding like more of a question instead of the statement of fact that she’d intended.

  A corner of Tyce’s mouth kicked up and he shook his head before repeating, “Not happening, Angel.”

  Briel’s lip trembled as another wave of nausea swept over her. Pinching her eyes shut, she moaned against the sick feeling overwhelming her senses. Her hands lifted to rub her arms against the chill that suddenly blasted her. She kept her eyes shut, needing a moment to mask the vulnerability that swamped her. “Please.” When she looked up she caught the momentary break in Tyce’s hard expression. She could have sworn he looked almost apologetic before the look vanished.

  “You and Fena are no longer safe outside these walls. It’s for your protection that you’ll remain. You need to be taken care of.”

  “I’m a grown woman. You can’t keep us here against our will.”

  Dark brows speared down, and with the scars on his face he suddenly looked savage. “Believe me,” his eyes traveled down her body then slowly tracked back up. “I am fully aware that you are a grown woman, Briel. But there are men out there hunting you. Bad men. If you’re too foolish to think of yourself, you should at least think of Fena.”

 

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