Tall, Silent and Lethal

by R. L. Mathewson

  “And what orders would those be?” Ephraim said, moving to step further into the room, but the intent expression the man in front of her had stopped him and every other man in the room as they realized that there was a chance that they wouldn’t get to her in time.

  “Retrieve the Alpha’s property,” he said, his expression resolved as he shifted his attention back on her.

  “And when you fail to do that?” Chris demanded. “Because you have to know that you’re not leaving this room alive if you hurt her or the baby.”

  He didn’t answer, but then again, she didn’t need him to. The way he looked at her said it all. They both knew that she wouldn’t die, but the baby could. Her body would reject the fetus in order to repair itself and he knew that, had anticipated it and now, it seemed as though he was willing to sacrifice his own life to make that happen.

  “Cloe,” the man said softly, “I’m sorry.”

  She opened her mouth to scream, to beg him not to do it, anything, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a choked gasp as he pulled the trigger. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw all three men move, desperate to get between her and the bullet speeding towards her, but it was pointless. No matter how fast they were, the bullet was faster. She sent up a prayer for her unborn child as she waited for the impact from the bullet, but it never came.

  At least, not for her.

  With a roar, Christofer surged to his feet, jumping in front of the bullet meant for their child and stumbled back in time with the sound of the gunshot exploding in the large bedroom. Blindly, she reached out to grab Christofer as he started to fall, but she never got the chance as a large body from her right tackled her, bringing her to the floor only to shift midair to take the impact and protect her.

  She barely had the chance to gasp when Ephraim snatched her out of Chris’ arms, tucked her against his body and flashed them out of the room. She moved to close her eyes in attempt to fight the dizzying effect on her stomach, but before she did, she saw him, standing in the hallway, eyes turned liquid silver with fangs that looked deadlier than Christofer’s.

  It was then that she decided never to cross Kale Quinn.

  Chapter 63

  “Just kill me!” the shifter demanded as he dropped to his knees, the gun falling from his hands. “Fucking do it!”

  “Cloe,” Christofer rasped, his unseeing eyes shifting desperately around the room for his mate as he struggled to get up, but one look at him and Caine knew the man wasn’t getting up for a while.

  At least, not unless he fell into bloodlust and then they’d really have their hands full.

  “She’s fine,” Chris promised as he jumped to his feet, his gaze never leaving the shifter kneeling before them.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Caine asked, gesturing towards the shifter as he kicked the gun away.

  “He’s mine,” Kale announced as he walked into the room, looking every bit the deadly mercenary that he was rumored to be.

  Kale had the shifter by the neck and slammed against the wall before Caine could blink. When he pulled the shifter back and slammed him back against the wall he destroyed it in the process.

  “You fucking dared to play me?” Kale snarled, getting into the shifter’s face.

  The shifter didn’t say anything, didn’t fight, didn’t struggle, just stood there waiting for Kale to tear his throat out. Caine couldn’t help but frown at the sight before him. For someone hell-bent on kidnapping Cloe or the very least, killing her unborn child, he’d done a shitty job of it.

  He’d snuck into a house filled with predators and gone after his prey with her overprotective mate in the room. If he’d been smart, he would have watched the house and waited for Cloe to leave unaccompanied before he made his move. He sure as hell wouldn’t have stopped with just one bullet. He would have kept firing that gun until he’d ensured his duty was done. Instead, the shifter had fired once, dropped his arm by his side and waited for their retribution.

  “What exactly was it about my fucking sunny disposition that made you think that I would overlook being fucked with?” Kale snarled, his voice guttural and the closest that Caine had ever seen the annoying shifter coming to losing control.

  “Do it,” the shifter gasped.

  “I want to know who gave the order to go after my property,” Kale demanded, making Caine frown with confusion. He shot Chris a look only to find the Sentinel looking equally confused. As far as they knew, Kale had no marked humans. He didn’t bother with humans, most of the time acting as though they didn’t exist.

  “You know the answer,” the shifter bit out, meeting Kale’s silver-eyed glare with one of his own.

  “Everything was a set up?” Kale demanded, looking seriously pissed.

  “Yes!” the shifter hissed.

  “Was it your Alpha’s idea, Brock?” Kale asked, shoving the shifter back into the wall.

  “Yes,” Brock bit out, looking tortured. “Now fucking do it!’

  Kale cocked his head to the side in an appraising manner as he studied the shifter. “Why the rush to die? Do you fear that your Alpha will do worse to you for failing?”

  “He will do worse if I live,” Brock bit out.

  Frowning, Kale looked down. Caine followed the shifter’s gaze and swore when he saw the mated mark on Brock’s wrist.

  “He threatened your mate?” Kale concluded, returning his attention to Brock.

  Brock looked away as he answered, “Yes.”

  “Any children?” Caine found himself asking.

  “No,” Brock croaked, looking miserable. “We’re not allowed to have children in our Pack.”

  Meaning that there was a good chance that this man’s mate had been forced to endure an abortion at least once. Pack life could be seriously fucked up, especially with an Alpha sick enough to mark a fourteen-year-old girl, Caine thought with disgust.

  “Either kill me or let me go so that I can go to her,” he demanded, meeting Kale’s glare once more.

  “No,” Kale said, shaking his head as he stepped back, keeping his hold on the shifter’s neck until he was an arm’s length away. He dropped his arm away only to swing the other one, hitting the shifter in the side of his head and knocking him out with a punch that sent him flying back, slamming him into what remained of the wall. He dropped to the ground without a sound.

  “Lock him up,” Kale said, turning his attention to Christofer.

  “What’s the plan?” Chris asked, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket as he knelt down next to the shifter and secured his hands behind his back.

  Kale leaned over and yanked the knife out of Christofer’s back, a mistake that Caine had no doubt they would all pay for and soon, and looked up and met Chris’ questioning look and simply said, “Revenge.”

  *-*-*-*

  It’s about fucking time.

  He leaned back, preparing to savor the moment when his bitch was brought back to him. When he caught her scent breaking through the stale scents left over by the hotel room’s many occupants over the years and the blood of the bitch who’d had the misfortune of being left with him, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His cock began to stir, preparing for the night ahead when he caught another scent, one that had his eyes opening and a curse forming at the tip of his tongue.

  “Hello,” the bastard said with an amused smile just as Aidan registered the feel of cold steel pressing against his throat, a reminder of the bullshit that he’d been forced to go through to find his bitch.

  Aidan chuckled, uncaring that the move caused the sharp edge of the knife to press into his skin and draw blood. “Figured it out, did you?” he asked in a bored tone as he reached back and scratched his head, wondering if this meant that his Beta was dead.

  He looked past the shifter perched on the edge of a chair next to him and shrugged when he spotted the pale, bloody hand hanging over the side of the bed. At least he didn’t have to worry about coming up with a half-assed excuse as to how he
’d killed the stupid bitch. Not that he had worried about upsetting his Beta when he’d been fucking the bitch. He’d been trying to work off some of his excitement at having his property back with the willing bitch. When she’d started moaning his name as he sank his claws into her back he may have gotten a little carried away.

  Kale followed his gaze and shook his head with disgust as he pressed the edge of the blade more firmly against his throat. “The Beta’s mate?” he asked, returning his attention to him.

  “Got carried away,” he said, fighting back a yawn.

  “You seem to have a problem with that,” Kale mused, his attention focused on the knife at his throat.

  “You mean the bitch?” Aidan asked with a dark chuckle. “Is that what this is about?”

  Kale shook his head slowly. “No, this is about something entirely different than how a sick fuck gets off.”

  “Then tell me, Kale Quinn,” he said mockingly, “what is this about?”

  “Revenge,” Kale said, stepping back and taking the knife with him.

  “Revenge?” he asked, his lips twitching with amusement as he watched the notorious Kale Quinn sheath his knife and lean back against the wall.

  “Mmmmhmm, revenge,” Kale said, folding his arms over his chest, looking as though he was settling in for a show.

  “And what exactly are you getting revenge for?” Aidan asked, leaning back in his chair, deciding that he could spare a few minutes and perhaps get a few answers before he ripped the bastard apart for interrupting his night.

  “Where’s my Beta?” he asked, drumming his fingers against the cracked armrests of his chair.

  “Preparing to become the Council’s bitch,” Kale said in an offhanded tone.

  “And my bitch?” he asked, chuckling at the murderous look the mutt shot him.

  “You mean my mate?” the gravelly voice demanded, bringing his attention to the doorway where a man stood, his red eyes matching the blood staining his large body.

  Slowly, he came to his feet as he faced the son of a bitch that had stolen his property. The one that had damaged his bitch and changed her. The one that he was going to use to make all his dreams come true, including getting his bitch back. He was going to-

  “You son of a bitch,” Cloe said, stepping around the red-eyed male. “It was you all this time.”

  “Cloe,” he said, smiling as he watched the shocked expression on her face as she realized that the man that she’d allowed to fuck her had also been the one to rip her family apart.

  “Aidan,” she said, her eyes watering as she came to a stop in front of the large male who dared to call himself her mate.

  “Miss me?” he asked, allowing his eyes to travel down her body, making note that his beta had failed in getting rid of the bastard in her womb.

  He would have to rectify that and soon.

  It wouldn’t do to allow anything but his mark to wreck her delectable body after all, he thought as he prepared himself for her attack. He knew it was coming. He could see it in her face, the blind hatred that had sent her running most of her life, had terrified her so badly that she avoided the night, avoided everything and everyone.

  It was coming.

  He’d seen it a hundred times before when someone allowed their emotions to take over. She’d think about that night, about what he’d done to her family, what he’d done to her and all the ways that he’d made her scream his name before it became too much to hold back and she went for his throat. When she did, he would use it against her. He’d use her to get out of here and once they were far enough away, he’d get rid of that parasite in her womb and force her to submit. He would-

  Never leave this room alive, he realized in horror as Cloe stepped aside as two more Pytes stepped inside the room, flanking the one that carried her scent.

  If he hadn’t been so focused on the Pytes watching his every move, he would have noticed the Sentinel sneaking inside the room behind him. By the time the silver plated knife was shoved through his spine, it was too late.

  Chapter 64

  “Shit!” Cloe hissed, fumbling to catch the bar of soap before she dropped it, but her shaky hands only managed to send the bar of soap flying across the large stall.

  “God damn it!” she said, biting back another sob as she shoved her hands through her wet, tangled hair before she was dropping them away and reaching for the hot water nozzle.

  Why wasn’t it getting hotter?

  She needed it hotter. She needed more water, more soap, she needed…she just needed…….

  To feel clean.

  That monster had destroyed her family. He’d torn them apart. Ate them! Then he’d held her down, pinning her with his claws while he’d meticulously shredded her back, finishing her torture by slicing her open and ripping out her womb. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d also stalked her, toyed with her, seduced her and then-

  A broken sob broke free as she forced her trembling legs to work and carry her to the bar of soap forming suds on the tiled shower floor. She picked it up only to drop it again when it slipped out of her hand. She tried again and again with the same results until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  She covered her face with her hands and stopped fighting it.

  The grief that she’d held in, tried to ignore, broke free. The tears that she’d refused to cry wouldn’t stop. God, she missed her parents and her brothers. She’d give anything to see them one more time, to tell them that she loved them and hold them.

  She just wanted her family back.

  She’d do anything to have them back, to not be alone again. All these years, she’d been so lonely, so afraid and now she-

  “Shhhh, mein Schatz,” Christofer said softly, enveloping her trembling body with his as he pressed a kiss against the back of her neck. “You’re not alone. Not anymore,” he said, making her realize that she must have spoken out loud.

  “P-please just leave me alone, C-Christofer,” she said even as she grabbed onto the arms wrapped around her and held on as another sob rocked her.

  “No,” he said, pressing another kiss to the back of her neck, “I’m never leaving you, mein Schatz.”

  She shook her head, trying to stop crying so that she could call him a liar, to yell at him for making promises that he couldn’t keep, but instead she felt herself relax in his arms and say, “Then make me forget. Make it all better, Christofer.”

  *-*-*-*

  “Cloe, I don’t know how to-”

  “Please, Christofer,” Cloe whispered, turning in his arms so that she could kiss him.

  The kiss was desperate and angry, but he took it. For her, he took it. Her nails dug into his shoulders as her kiss became harder, punishing. Her body shook against his, her nails bit through skin as she sobbed against his mouth. He felt his heart break a little more with each sob.

  What he wouldn’t do to take this pain away from her. He’d do anything to free her from this pain, anything, but he knew there was nothing that he could do for her. She’d bottled up her pain for too long, and now, it was breaking free. When she tore her mouth away from his and buried her face against his neck as loud sobs rocked her body, he tightened his arms around her and sat back against the shower and held her.

  As she finally mourned her family, he gently pried one hand away and moved it down, pressing it against her stomach. When she tried to pull her hand away, he gently pushed it back and covered it with his own. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against her hair and held her.

  “You will never be alone again.”

  *-*-*-*

  “Give. Me. A. Coke.”

  “No,” Chris said, pressing a tiny kiss to the top of his newborn daughter’s head. “Not while you’re breastfeeding.”

  “Then we’ll buy formula,” Izzy bit out evenly, looking close to killing her mate.

  Chris paused mid-kiss to glare at his mate. “You dare suggest giving my precious babies formula?” he demanded as though Izzy had suggested giving the babies crack coc
aine.

  Shaking his head with a sigh, Kale carefully placed Jessica on the bed beside her mother. Once the toddler was settled in next to Izzy, he sat down on the bed and laid back with CJ in his arms. The baby boy curled up against him in his sleep as he continued to dream of that 69’ Mustang that Kale had promised him for his sixteenth birthday.

  “Don’t you have some place to be?” Chris snapped at him.

  “No, not really,” he said, kissing the top of the baby’s fuzzy head.