The Society Series Box Set 2

by Mason Sabre

  “We’ve all traipsed in there enough tonight,” he said evenly, his eyes intent on her. “We need a warrant to search it. It is still Human-owned. I have asked Avery to put in a request. Besides, if we went in now, we’d not see a thing.”

  He was right, of course, but God damn them … Gemma wanted to look. She wanted to know for sure that Jessica’s car wasn’t there. She wanted to know the baby was okay … even as her rational mind tried to argue logic. The baby was dead … there was no okay for her now.

  But maybe they could find what would be the start to the path that led Jessica to her death. She could ease some of her guilt at the baby losing her life … she could ease some of the guilt for Connor, too. Maybe finding who killed the baby was a way to make up to her own son what had happened to him … She sat back in her seat and let her eyes close, a lump in her throat and her fists clenched in helplessness.

  By the time they pulled up outside her house, she was ready to sleep. She had put Connor back into the secret, dark little box in the corner of her mind where he was safe—and so was she. She gave a yawn and arched her back, stretching out the tension in her bones, and trying her hardest to ignore the weight of Cade’s stare. But he was like home, warmth seeping into her soul just from him sitting beside her.

  The sun was about ready to rise, a blue tinge streaking across the sky, signalling the start of a new day. Gemma wanted nothing more than to go into her house, drink a coffee and pass out for a few peaceful hours.

  “I'll call you when I have the warrants,” Cade said. “I'll call your father first, but I think I will have to go through my dad for a warrant.”

  Gemma had to agree. The look on her father’s face when he had told them to leave told her that if Angela didn’t want them in there, they weren’t getting in. It was madness. Did she not want her daughter’s killer brought to justice?

  “Yeah, I think you'll have to go to your dad,” Gemma said solemnly. Her father was usually more careful than this. Everyone knew Trevor was just itching to get his ass into the head seat, and this would be another thing to excite him and make him look for cracks.

  “If there was another way ...”

  “There isn’t. My dad is being an idiot on this. We need into Jessica’s room, and we need back into the estate.” It was her own undoing to look at Cade with her guard down. The way he was looking at her had her wanting to climb across the car and crawl onto his lap. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Thank you for the ride home.”

  Her heart was pounding in her chest as she forced herself to get out of the car and not look back at him. But Cade had got out of the car and was beside her before she could run into the safety of her own home.

  “I’m sorry you have to work this case," he said as he walked her to her door. He reached for her arm to stop her before adding, "I'm sorry about the baby."

  “Don’t,” Gemma said. She was barely holding it all in. He couldn’t voice that out loud and not expect her to break. “We just need to find who did this. For Jessica.”

  “We will.” He took a step closer, looking like he would say something else. She tensed, feeling her defences crumble at the proximity. He clenched his jaw as he stared at her, then ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair with a quiet curse. “If you want off this case, just say,” he said softly.

  It wasn’t an option. She appreciated his attempt to shield her, but it was too late. She had already seen the baby. She had to solve this for her.

  “Her baby wasn’t disfigured.” She raised her eyes to Cade's. “Did you see? She was a mix, but she looked normal.”

  “Gem—”

  “No. I—” She stopped, covering her face with her hands and inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry.” She desperately grabbed onto her emotions before her mouth ran away with all the thoughts of what if this and what if that. “You should go. Get some sleep before it’s too late. N–” The name of the woman Cade was betrothed to stuck in her throat. She couldn’t utter the word … “She will be waiting for you.”

  Cade had agreed to mate with another wolf, to join packs for his father. He'd had no choice. His father had told him the only way he could keep Phoenix—the half-breed he had found—safe was if he agreed to mate with one of the Castle women ... a political move. Gemma used it like a wall between them. A punch in her own gut to remind herself that Natalie was there.

  It was a punch in Cade’s gut, too. He clamped his jaw down tight, a look of hurtful rejection flitting over his features, his eyes fierce and bluer than usual. Without a word, he simply nodded at her and then turned to walk away.

  Gemma gripped the handle to her door, willing herself to unlock it and stop watching his retreating figure. Her mind was desperate to call him back. The words formed on her lips, thick and heavy.

  “Cade—” she called before she could stop herself. He turned abruptly, those deep blue eyes boring into her. As she opened and closed her mouth with words she couldn’t quite form, he was back in front of her in two long strides. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed as he cupped her face with his hands and leant his forehead against hers. She didn’t stop him … didn’t fight him off. “I didn’t mean to ...”

  His mouth was so close to hers that she could feel his breath against her lips. She wanted so desperately to kiss him, craved the feel of his lips on hers.

  “Leave with me, Gem. Leave. We can go anywhere you want. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  His words were her life vest in the water, but she couldn’t let herself reach for it. “I can’t.”

  “Why not, damn it—” She could feel his pain, his frustration. But this was why Connor had died. Because her and Cade were wrong for each other. They were never meant to be together, and he had died because they had tried to force it. That was her punishment for being so selfish and daring to grasp at what she so desperately needed.

  He rubbed his stubble-covered cheek against hers, flooding her with his scent. “Every time you make me walk away, I feel like I’m dying.”

  She bit her lip, pressing her hand against his hard chest. His heart beat strong and steady under her palm. “You have to, though,” she said in a small voice.

  The embrace made her weak, and when he pulled her close, she could do nothing but drink in the rich and musky scent that called to her. Anyone watching would have shot them on the spot, executing them both for what they weren’t meant to do. Even though the ache inside Gemma’s chest grew to such intensity that she was sure she would die from it, she slowly pushed him back. She knew without a doubt in her mind that he would not leave unless she made him.

  “You need to go,” she whispered. "We can't do this."

  His body tensed and it took a moment for him to move away from her. Blue eyes shining brightly, he stepped back, leaving her bereft. She swallowed down tears—seeing the heartbreak in his face was more than she could cope with.

  “I’m sorry," she whispered.

  The fire that blazed in his eyes scorched her. He stuffed clenched fists in his pockets without a word and waited for her to go inside.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she croaked out. As soon as the door closed behind her, she leant against the wood heavily. It was so tempting to let the mask slip from her face right then and release all the pent-up chaos and pain inside.

  But just one tear, one cry of agony, was all it would take for her to crumble to the floor and never get up again.

  Chapter 7

  Gemma

  The sound of Cade’s car was nothing but a distant echo in Gemma’s mind. It pulled on the strings of her heart until she couldn’t move. She inhaled deeply, filling herself with soul quenching air and trying to grasp onto peace. She could still smell him, still feel him close, his heart beating under her hand …

  His words rang in her ears like a torturous memory. “Leave with me.”

  She couldn’t.

  She couldn’t be that selfish. If she said yes, they would leave, and then what? What would happen to Phoenix? He was basically a ma
n now, but Trevor would gun for him. He had done it once before, when Cade had first found Phoenix, and taken him in. He was just a fifteen year-old-boy, and Trevor had tried to deceive him and hand him off to the wolf father of his maker so that he could have him killed without getting his hands dirty.

  This was why Natalie was on the scene. Aaron, Cade’s older brother, had already mated. Trevor had seen that his second son, Cade, wasn’t planning on doing the same, so he forced his hand by promising Phoenix’s safety if Cade mated and married one of the Castle women. The arrangement had been that once Aaron had a child, Cade would have to go through with the mating.

  Aaron had recently had a daughter—he had an heir—and with her birth, she had unknowingly sealed Cade’s fate. If Cade broke his father’s deal, Phoenix would be out on his own, and both Others and Humans did not like half-breeds. Both sides would hunt him down and kill him.

  But even without that, she couldn’t leave her family. It would leave Evie in the running for heir, and she wasn’t strong enough. Stephen’s death had taken something from her. She’d not survive more loss. None of her family would. But then again, Trevor would never let Cade go. Gemma knew without a doubt that Trevor would have her or Cade killed if they even tried, and the idea of Cade’s death was far worse than the images of him with another.

  It was so hard, but she pushed herself from the door and went to her kitchen for some much-needed coffee. Hell, maybe she’d even add a shot of something to it. God knew she needed something strong. She stifled her emotions and slipped her mask back on like a shield.

  Flicking on the light and then the kettle, she grabbed her mug from the other counter. It was then that she realised her back garden was illuminated, the soft yellow glow making her stop and look. The house had come with a security light out back, which she had vowed to get rid of. The damn thing always seemed to go off when there was a cat or a piece of laundry she had left hanging on the line. It drove her crazy, turning her into some paranoid single woman, always checking her back garden for intruders.

  Her house wasn’t that big. It was a newly built estate, but the Humans had given up on it when they realised that the land out back was too soft to build anything useful and that the gardens could never be real gardens. The ground was too steep. So they had sold the houses to Others, and her father had bought many of them as part of the Society—rentable homes for its members. Phoenix now worked for him, managing the properties. As a reward, he had got his own small house not so far away. Not bad for some nineteen-year-old half-breed, whom everyone seemed to want dead.

  Gemma’s house held a lounge that doubled as a dining room. It had a kitchen, small but usable, and then it had two bedrooms and a bathroom. Enough for her. Her favourite part was what the Humans had given it up for—the land. At the back, her garden slanted too much. It wasn’t useable in the ways Humans wanted it, but to a shifter, it was the perfect place to head into the woods behind and run.

  With her eyes fixed on the glass pane of the back door, Gemma backed out of her kitchen then ran up her stairs. There would be no one outside; she knew that. She just had to check anyway. The smallest bedroom was the one that had the window that overlooked the back. She didn’t switch the light on as she pushed the door open and snuck along the wall like an intruder in her own home.

  If there ever was an intruder, they would be greatly disappointed. Her garden held a small shed which she used to store her lawnmower, a couple of chairs and various bits of gardening tools. Not that she ever did any gardening, but they had been a gift from her mother, hoping to pass on the herb-growing hobby.

  The curtains in the small room were open, hanging along the sides of the window. Gemma used one of them to shield herself and peer out into the darkness. There was no one there. From what she could see, everything was undisturbed. She had to shake her head at herself. She was missing that coffee for the sake of wind setting off the light.

  When the security light went out, Gemma jumped a little and waited. It was on a three-minute timer, meaning that, when it came on, it stayed on for three minutes and then went out again. She stayed in the shadows of the room, watching. It would go on again if someone was there, but after almost five minutes of standing there, all she managed to do was annoy herself.

  “Stupid thing,” she muttered. She would remove the damn thing tomorrow.

  Maybe it was her friendly stalker, she thought as she headed back to the kitchen—if ‘friendly stalker’ was the right word. It had been a good few hours since she had thought about him, and almost as long since she had seen him at the estate. He had promptly disappeared, but if there was one thing about him, he liked Gemma to know he was there.

  She frowned. It was stupid, and illogical, that in a way, she had hoped it was him.

  Sighing, she didn’t know if she should cry or laugh at herself. Between dead friends, Cade and jumping at security lights, she’d had it for tonight …

  She exhaled heavily. It wasn’t even night. She’d missed that chance. No, it was morning now, and if she didn’t get her ass to sleep, Cade would be at her door with his warrants, and she’d be looking like shit, trying to work on no sleep at all.

  Back downstairs and back at the kettle, Gemma didn’t bother to put the light back on. It was too late for the coffee now. Instead, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

  She had almost downed half of it when her brain suddenly kicked into gear and realisation hit her ...

  Her breathing stopped and her hand tightened on the open fridge door, the carton still mid-air as she froze.

  When she had gone upstairs, she had left the kitchen light on ...

  Chapter 8

  Cade

  The only light on in the house when Cade pulled his car into his driveway was the one in the downstairs hallway. Natalie left it on when he worked late at night. She had been living with him for just over a month now, in her own room, her own space in a hope that they could get to know each other before they officially mated. The light was a reminder to him each time that his life was not his own. His choices had been taken from him.

  But he didn’t need the light; he was shifter—wolf—but she said it was like giving him a light to come home to. Sort of the same way lighthouses helped sailors find their way home. He had smiled at her words and fought back his guilt. She was trying—trying hard—and there was nothing wrong with that. It was just that she was the wrong person leaving the light on for him to come back to.

  It took a little while for him to get out of the car and go into the house. His head was swimming with so much shit that he’d have happily slammed his head into the wall just to make it stop.

  Inside, the house was quiet. He shut and locked the front door then paused and listened. It was almost three months since Phoenix had moved out—he had his own place now, his own life and adventure. Cade had got so used to him these last few years. It was almost like he had always been there. He missed the roar of his motorcycle coming down the lane. He missed the sound of his god-awful, too loud, thumping music that would echo through the walls and make them vibrate, making it hard to work. Shit. Mostly, he missed the simple, easy company that Phoenix provided. But he had to live, to have the chance and the room to grow into the man he was becoming. If Cade was proud of himself for anything, it was Phoenix.

  He hung his jacket on the now half-empty coat stand just under the stairs. Even that seemed lost in the vacant hallway. No longer cluttered with leathers and helmets. How much life seemed to have changed, Cade often thought.

  Natalie’s door was closed when he went upstairs. Moving in with your future wife, your mate, wasn’t supposed to be this way. You didn’t sleep in separate rooms. You didn’t sit together with odd awkwardness passing between you. “You will learn to love each other,” Gemma’s mother had said when he had bumped into her at Stephen’s memorial stone one day.

  But he didn’t want to learn to love her …

  He didn’t want to love anyone else.
Gemma was his every breath, the very beat of his heart.

  The feel of her face against his … the scent of her on him lingered, torturing him—a potent reminder that the one thing he wanted most in the world he couldn’t have. He felt like ramming his fist in the wall. He wanted to curse God, or the world, or fate—whoever had done this. Why let her get so close within his reach … then snatch her away? What cruel God had thought that up?

  In his office, he tossed Jessica’s file on his desk and then slumped in his chair. Pulling out his wallet, he dug out the key to the top drawer of his desk—it was filled with secrets and hopes and dreams, locked up and hidden away from the world.

  He pulled out a worn, dog-eared photograph of Gemma. He had taken it in this very room. She was sitting on the sofa just under the window, smiling, eyes alive, her hand resting on her swollen belly. Every part of her seemed to glow, and radiate … an aura of home. It seeped into his skin and touched him inside, stroking his wolf and calming every desperate piece of his soul.

  He ran his thumb along the picture, like he had done so many times before, the image of what he had almost had taunting him with cruel vividness. It was so alive in his mind that he felt if he turned in his chair, he would see her sitting there now. God, he’d give anything to be able to go to her right now and wrap his arms around her. He’d give anything to be able to feel her, and their son growing safely in his mother’s womb … the promise of their future.

  The desk had faced the window back then. He used to have it so he could see outside and his door at the same time.

  Now it faced the wall—he didn’t care if someone could sneak up behind him. To have his desk face the other way was to have it facing lies.

  Now, it would be Natalie sitting on the sofa in the evenings, not Gemma. She would sit there and work, looking up to smile at him every now and then …

  He couldn’t do it.