Betrayed: Days of the Rogue

by Nicky Charles

  He chuckled. “Don’t try to put a leash on me.”

  “Haven’t you been to obedience classes?” She leaned back and blinked at him innocently.

  “Eve…” He gave a low warning growl and she squealed, trying to escape in mock fear.

  A brief wrestling match ended with Eve on her back and Rafe looming over her. He traced her brow with the tip of one finger, sliding it down her cheek to her chin and then tipping her head so he could see her eyes. “I want you to be happy, Eve. We’ll hold off on the blood bond until you’re ready. And I won’t go on the runs if it will bother you. We can even stay here and just use Grassy Hills as our own private getaway.” He shrugged. “I know being a doctor’s wife and living in a fancy house is supposed to be every woman’s dream. It doesn’t really matter to me. Being with you is the most important thing.”

  Her heart swelled seeing the care and concern in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I can handle it.” She grinned and traced his lips with her finger. “Now let’s get started on some desensitization therapy.”

  “Hmm?” He gave her a quizzical look.

  She giggled. “Wolf bites, Rafe. Wolf bites.” And with that she gave her best imitation of a growl and pulled him down on top of her.

  Epilogue:

  Damien leaned against the wall in Deirdre’s office, his thumbs casually hooked in his belt loops. She’d summoned him for another assignment and, as was typical of her, was now making him wait before she put in an appearance. He glanced at the wall behind her desk. It sported what he’d always suspected was a two-way mirror. Deirdre was the type who would use covert observation to help her gain the upper hand.

  Well, she wouldn’t learn a damned thing from him. As usual, he kept his expression bland, his posture loose. He’d learned long ago not to telegraph his emotions.

  To keep himself occupied, he speculated why she’d left him alone this past month. Perhaps she’d been hoping he’d come to her of his own accord, or maybe her thinking had been that he’d end up in some mess and she’d have to rescue him by the scruff of his neck. Deirdre would have loved that; it would have given her something to hold over his head. Instead, from her point of view at least, his month of freedom had passed uneventfully. She’d had him under surveillance ever since the Grassy Hills incident, not that he’d given any sign that he’d known. Perhaps she hadn’t felt she could trust him, given that the assignment had turned sour. Whatever the case, the call had finally come and now he was back in her office.

  The steel door to the right of her desk slid open on a whisper of sound, and Deirdre entered the room strutting on her impossibly high heels. Today she was wearing a black suit, satin trimmed, the coat perfectly tailored to show off her figure. A flash of cleavage hinted that she was wearing nothing under the jacket. Professional, yet designed to entice the male of the species.

  Damien took a step away from the wall he’d been leaning against. She gave him a slow, seductive smile and glided over to where he now stood.

  Mentally, he’d been braced for a much different reception, but apparently she wasn’t going rip him a new one for taking over seventy-two hours to answer her summons. He’d wondered how she’d react, and was almost disappointed that they weren’t going to have a verbal showdown.

  “Damien.” She spoke his name in her low, husky voice as she circled around him, invading his personal space. Her body brushed against his with a subtlety that could be taken for an accident if he hadn’t known her so well. Everything Deirdre did was for a purpose, whether it was to seduce or arouse or intimidate. The aim was always the same, to control the men she handled.

  All her wiles had yet to work on him; it was one of the things that he knew infuriated her the most. He knew it drove her crazy, and it provided him with some amusement. Deirdre was a bitch, too used to getting her own way, and she couldn’t believe he was immune to her obvious assets. Of course, she would never admit it, he could always tell by the slight tightening around her mouth and the vague hint of a vertical line between her brows.

  “Deirdre.” He acknowledged her by name, but in no way did his body show she had any effect on him. His breathing stayed steady, he didn’t flinch or try to move away. Her perfume—a heavy, musky scent—wrapped around him teasing his nostrils but not arousing or stimulating him. She’d only ever been a means to an end for him, that was all.

  Stopping behind him, her ample breasts brushed his back but he made no comment. When she spoke, it was in a cooing tone, her breath tickling his ear.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered while placing her hands on his shoulders and slowly sliding them down his arms to his biceps.

  “Not likely. The others were here for you to play with. And you knew where I was if you needed me for an assignment.”

  “Most of the time.” Deirdre amended his statement with a soft laugh. “We lost you a few times. That’s what makes you such an asset to this organization. Your…skills…are superb.” She whispered the last word into his ear as she slid around him, her body skimming against his arm. When she was finally in front of him, she slowly trailed a finger down the middle of his chest, stopping at his belt and glancing up at his face. Giving a light laugh, she boldly ran her finger over the zipper of his pants.

  His only response was to raise an eyebrow and try to control the bored sigh that threatened to escape. He could see their reflections in the mirror across the room. Was there someone on the other side observing, hoping to get a thrill from watching her seduce him? Idly, he speculated at the placement of the desk. How many of his fellow assassins had she taken on the smooth wooden surface?

  “Always so cool and controlled,” Deirdre affected a pout. Abandoning her attempts at seduction, she strolled to her desk. Damien noted the sway of her hips with complete disinterest.

  Bored with the game she was playing, he got to the point of his being there. “You asked to see me. Why?”

  Cocking her head, she studied him. “You’ve changed. A few months ago the prospect of a new job excited you. I don’t sense that anymore.”

  He shrugged one shoulder, not really caring about her personal impressions of him.

  “Never much of a conversationalist, were you.” Deirdre sighed and picked up a file. “Your next assignment.” She held it out to him and Damien almost smiled. This was what he’d been waiting for.

  “No.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.

  “No?” She arched a brow when he made no move to take the folder.

  “You heard me.”

  Slowly, she lowered her hand and laid the file on the edge of the desk. Folding her hands in front of her, she cocked her head and blinked, a curious expression on her face. “Any particular reason? Some moral or ethical dilemma with the case?”

  “I don’t know what the case is yet, do I?” He pointed out the obvious.

  “True. And ethics have never got in your way before.” She made a little moue and tapped her lips with her finger, the red of her nail polish matching her lipstick. “Are you hoping for a pay raise? Because if you are—”

  “No. No raise.” He shook his head. “I’m quitting.”

  “Quitting?” Her eyes widened before she gave what seemed like a genuine laugh. It was a sound he’d never heard from her before, and he noted it actually had a light quality that was quite at odds with her outward persona. “Damien, that’s extremely amusing.”

  He inclined his head. “I’m glad you think so.”

  Still smiling, she extended the folder once again. “Now, enough of this foolishness. I’ve been lenient with you for not coming when called, but this is a business after all. As delightful as your sense of humour might be, I have several meetings and—”

  “I’m not trying to be amusing. I’m quitting. Someone told me it’s polite to tell your employer.”

  The smile slowly left her face and the expression in her eyes hardened. “No one quits, Damien, and lives to tell about it.”

  “No one has…yet. I thought I’d be the first.�
�� He gave her a cheeky grin.

  A hint of a flush showed on her cheeks. “You signed on for life. That was the deal. I allow you to kill all the Anti-Fae you want without fear of retribution. In exchange you belong to me, body and soul, for as long as I wish.”

  “Strange but I don’t remember signing any papers saying that.” He mocked her, taking perverse pleasure in watching her control crumble.

  “There were no damned papers, you know that.” Deirdre was standing now, legs braced, her hands clenched into fists and resting on her hips. She wasn’t used to being defied. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts revealed that her breathing had quickened.

  “A verbal agreement with no witnesses…” He paused and cast a meaningful glance at the mirror behind her desk before continuing, “is almost impossible to enforce.”

  “I will enforce it though.” She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to him. “I’ll hunt you down and you’ll be drawn and quartered as an example to the others.”

  “I’m shaking in my boots.” He rolled his eyes at her threats.

  A low infuriated sound erupted from her and she moved to slap him. Damien shot his hand out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward until they stood face to face.

  He spoke through clenched teeth, his voice barely above a growl, each word spoken slowly and distinctly. “Don’t ever try that again.” With a look of disgust, he pushed her away.

  To her credit, she didn’t stumble, despite the heels. A few strands of hair had escaped from the severe knot she had it pulled back in. Brushing them from her face, she picked up the phone, hovering her finger over the buttons in preparation for dialling. “Leave if you want, but know that the moment you do there’s a bounty on your head.”

  Damien gave a short dark laugh. “There likely is already, so join the crowd.” He looked her up and down, his lip purposely curled in a sneer. “Do whatever you want, Deirdre. My life’s already hell. I doubt you can make it any worse.”

  Slowly, he turned and sauntered out of the room. Behind him he heard a crash that sounded rather like a phone being thrown against the floor. It made him smile.

  As he left the building, Damien took a deep cleansing breath and climbed on the motorcycle he’d purchased the day before. He revved the engine and then took off, peeling rubber the length of the driveway. A wide grin spread across his face as he pictured Deirdre fussing over the tire marks; she was anal about the appearance of the stately mansion that served as her headquarters.

  Chuckling to himself, he pulled onto the highway and increased his speed. The wind whipped his face and tore at his clothes. He gloried in the feeling of freedom. For the first time in eighteen months he actually felt that something might be going right in his life. There was still a gaping hole in his heart, his wolf was still fighting him, but maybe, just maybe, he’d find some peace now.

  Pulling into a gas station, he took out his wallet and found a crumpled piece of paper. There were directions written on it. An old friend from his Academy days—Kane—had always been after him to visit. He’d go there first, stay for a few days, and then head out again before anyone found out where he was.

  Yeah, he’d keep on the move, staying one step ahead of Deirdre, in case she ever decided to make good on her threats. And who knew what Lycan Link would do. Would the captain pursue charges because of his defection, or would Reno talk the old man into letting it pass?

  It didn’t really matter either way. There were worse things than being a nomad. Not every wolf had a pack, and at least he had Beth’s memory to keep him company. That was more than some ever had.

  He tucked away the directions and then took a look at Beth’s picture. A faint smile curved her lips, and her dove grey eyes seemed to have lost the faint look of accusation that had been in them lately.

  “I’m sorry, Beth,” he whispered the words. “I feel like I’ve betrayed you. I wanted to avenge your death but in the end…” He flattened his lips and shook his head. “You were always so much wiser than me.” He paused and took a deep breath. In his mind he could see how she’d tilt her head and raise a brow, gently scolding him when he underestimated himself. She’d always trusted him, believed in him, no matter what.

  She’d playfully tug at his dark hair and whisper that he would always be her white knight, that he’d rescued her that first time they’d met.

  But not this time. This time, he’d let her down.

  Blinking against the tears that threatened, he continued. “I want you know that I love you and I’m going to keep trying to be the person you thought I was. And no matter what, you’ll always be my mate; my beautiful, wise mate.” He was sure he could hear her voice answering in his head.

  ‘Never forget…love.’

  “I won’t,” he whispered, stroking his finger over the curve of her cheek. “I’ll never forget. As long as I live, I’ll never forget you.”

  Tucking the wallet back in his pocket, he swung himself onto his motorcycle and headed for the open road.

  ~FIN~

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  Other books by Nicky Charles

  Forever In Time

  The Mating

  The Keeping

  The Finding

  Bonded