Call Her Mine

by Lydia Michaels

  “How?” Delilah asked.

  Larissa met her gaze, gone was the sympathy she normally saw there. “They buried him alive.”

  Chills rushed up her spine. “What?”

  Larissa nodded. “It is a practice only used when a lesson must be taught.”

  “But you guys live, for, like…ever.”

  She nodded. “Without food or blood our bodies begin to decompose. It is an agony I cannot begin to imagine.”

  “But the man I saw…he didn’t look like a zombie or anything. He was, I’d hate to say it, hot.”

  “We discovered not too long ago that Cerberus had somehow managed to escape. It is from his loins that Dane and Cybil hail. Adriel has feared he would come for her, but my husband did not heed her concerns.”

  “Maybe he’s right. Maybe this guy just wants to freak everyone out.”

  “I do not believe so,” Larissa said. “We are in danger. Adriel is in danger.”

  * * * *

  Dane slipped out of the bishop’s office and slid the rifle behind his back. Enough was enough. He didn’t know what happened that interrupted their meeting, but he was done waiting.

  The council had rushed him out the moment Eleazar returned. Something was going on that he wasn’t allowed to know about. Dismissed as usual, he paced the halls, waiting for someone to tell him what had happened. When no one came, he sat on the bench outside of the bishop’s office, his mind wandering over the events of the past hour, and then his eye caught on the glint of the weapon leaning in the corner of Eleazar’s office.

  A plan had taken shape before he even realized he was moving. It was an old gun, but Dane had watched enough Wild West movies with his dad as a child to figure out how to load it. Once he had the rifle filled with powder, he eased the door to the office closed, and found his way to the cellar below.

  His footsteps echoed down the long corridor, his strides set with determination. This animal killed his mother. It was his fault they ended up here and his sister was now a deranged version of the sweet child she once was.

  When they first arrived on the farm, after Cain had come to save them, Cybil had stopped speaking. It was the result of witnessing their mother’s death.

  Since boyhood, Dane had the unique ability to catch glimpses of other’s thoughts. At least then he could still manage to see parts of his sister’s mind. Now, all he saw was nonsense when he looked for signs of rational thinking in her head.

  He unlatched the heavy door that barred the cell quarters from the rest of the Safe House. It was the only place on the farm that remained locked, but he was granted a key in order to visit his senseless sister whenever he needed.

  When he first arrived at the farm, these rooms were abandoned. Now, however, three cells were occupied. He frowned at the new occupant. It was Sister Adriel. She lay sleeping on a cot, curled in a tight ball. He didn’t understand why she was there.

  As he passed her cell his sister greeted him with an unwelcoming growl. “Quiet,” he snapped and she hissed.

  Red eyes turned on him, mirroring the hollow gaze of the male in the cell beside hers. Isaiah bared his fangs as if to smile. Dane lifted the rifle and pointed it at the animal. “You’re going down, fucker.”

  No sign of fear showed in Isaiah’s blood red eyes. His lips curved as though this news pleased him. Dane could have explained to the animal why he was about to die, but why bother? His mother was given no explanation and Isaiah deserved the same.

  He pulled the dated barrel back and fit his eye to the scope. He wasn’t sure if he needed silver bullets or wooden ones, but he was prepared to shoot the thing until it breathed its last breath.

  “Rot in hell,” he hissed as his finger tightened on the trigger.

  The hard reverberation of the rifle slamming into his shoulder followed the crack of the gun going off. Dane stumbled back a step and a roar ripped from his sister’s throat as she climbed, like a spider up the bars and rattled them in their sockets. His gaze shot to Isaiah who was staring down at his chest as crimson bloomed where the bullet had landed.

  He’d done it. He’d shot the beast. But he was far from dead. Cybil continued to screech, stinging Dane’s ears, as the whine of metal bending filled the room.

  Isaiah’s blood red gaze shot to Dane’s, a look of promise swirling in their muddy depths. And then all sound ceased. They both turned and Cybil crouched, outside her cell, past the now mangled bars, and panted.

  Her head hung low, blond, wild hair nearly snapping with energy as it swirled around her. Her fangs parted as she seethed at him, murder in her gaze.

  Isaiah purred and Dane took a hasty step back, pointing the rifle at his sister. “Cybil…” he said, knowing he wouldn’t break through the smog of insanity that had swallowed her long ago. “Cybil, don’t make me hurt you,” he warned, hoping he wouldn’t have to.

  As the rifle pointed at his sister, Isaiah growled like a possessed cat. Dane quickly turned and shivered at the look of wrath in the male’s eyes. His gaze shot back to Cybil.

  Her fingers splayed as her claws lengthened, shoulders rising and falling with barely contained fury. Her voice, nothing like the sweet melodic sound he recalled, splintered the air as she panted, “He…is…Minnnnnnne!”

  The snap of her growl ripped through the air as she sprung. The rifle flew out of his grip as his back slammed into the cement ground. Pain sliced through him as her craws scraped down his face. Warm, thick liquid filled his eyes, blinding him.

  The growls coming from her were inhuman. Shouts came in the distance, followed by numerous pounding footsteps. Hands, slick with blood, tightened on his throat as he thrashed. She was incredibly strong.

  He fought through the darkness bathing his vision and winking into his mind as his air was cut off. Clawing at her, he frantically pushed, as deep male voices grew closer.

  “Grab her!” someone yelled.

  There was so much noise. The sound of metal twisting over the rising voices formed a deafening roar.

  “Pull her back! She’s killing him! He’s only a half-breed!”

  Those were the last words that registered as the pain suddenly relented. He rolled to his side, gasping, and choking, fighting to pull air into his burning lungs. Voices continued to shout and he swiped the blood from his eyes.

  Through his blurred vision he saw the elders, all of them, restraining his sister. She hissed and spit and clawed at them. And then there was a burst of energy from the cell at his back and everyone stilled.

  Dane turned and there was Isaiah, heaving with rage, only an inch away. Ezekiel was the first to speak. “Do not, my bredder.”

  Isaiah snarled and tipped up his chin toward Cybil.

  The men, who together amounted to the strongest immortals on the farm, restrained Cybil and stood straight, meeting Isaiah’s glare. “Harm one person here, Isaiah, and you shall die before dawn,” Eleazar warned with frightening calm.

  Isaiah’s head tipped, left then right, sending an echo of bones cracking through the weighted silence. The bullet wound seemed of no consequence to the immortal. He leaned close and sniffed Dane and he knew his next breath was likely his last, but Isaiah only purred and stepped past him.

  The group of males took a retreating step. Only Ezekiel remained where he was. Isaiah crept closer to the man who was once his brother and slowly lifted a hand.

  No one seemed to know what to do. “Kill him!” Dane growled, his abused voice a mere rasp.

  Ezekiel met his brother’s deranged gaze and Isaiah placed a hand on his chest. Dane frowned. He could not possibly recognize the other as his kin.

  “Mine.” The word was a crude formed syllable. An audible breath was drawn in from everyone around.

  Ezekiel’s eyes shut for a moment as his chest rose. He covered Isaiah’s hand and said. “Mine.”

  Isaiah turned and his gaze landed on Cybil. His hand withdrew from his brother’s chest and he pointed to her. “Mine,” he said and every jaw seemed to unlock.

>   “No, Isaiah…” Ezekiel whispered and Isaiah’s gaze snapped back to him as a threatening growl filled the room.

  “Yesssss,” Isaiah hissed through bared fangs. “She. Is. Mine.” His hand went to his chest and he shut his eyes. “Mine.”

  Dane studied the animal from his long, dark hair, to his untamed beard. He was more beast than man. When Isaiah stepped forward and placed a hand on Cybil’s bloody cheek, she shut her eyes, a look of serenity overcoming her features. “Mine,” Isaiah repeated, and then stepped back.

  Enough already. “Do something!” Dane hissed.

  But there was nothing to do. Isaiah pointed to her cell and then slowly returned to his own, stepping over the mutilated bars.

  “Let her go,” Ezekiel whispered.

  “Ezekiel—” the bishop warned.

  “See what she does,” Ezekiel snapped.

  The bishop nodded. “Let her go.”

  The elders released Cybil and she looked to Isaiah. Isaiah pointed to her cell and she lowered her head and silently stepped over the bars until she was once again inside.

  Dane gaped at the elders. What were they doing? They couldn’t leave them here. Someone had to do something!

  Ezekiel stepped in front of his brother’s cell and pointed at Cybil. “Yours?”

  Isaiah met Ezekiel’s gaze. “Ainsicht.” The unfamiliar word broke past Isaiah’s lips and the elders seemed to take a great deal of meaning from it.

  Dane frowned. What the hell did that mean? The men stepped back. Bishop Eleazar gave Ezekiel a worried look. “She is young, Ezekiel. Far too young to be his mate.”

  “What?” Dane snapped.

  Ezekiel turned to the bishop. “For nearly a century, has my brother not remained in this area? Perhaps his calling was early, Eleazar.”

  The bishop shook his head. Thank God someone was keeping their wits.

  “It is unheard of.”

  Ezekiel’s expression grew tight with anger. “Do you presume to know more on the issue than God Himself? You are but a man! Your mate resided houses away from you for fifty years, married to a monster whom you gave her away to.”

  The bishop growled. “Do not speak to me of—”

  “Do not speak to me as though you hold all the answers!” Ezekiel snapped. “He is my brother! Has he not calmed since being placed in this cell beside the girl? Clearly it was not the bars that held him here.”

  “She is ill, Ezekiel. She is but a child,” the bishop tried to reason.

  “And what if she had been called to my grandson, Cain?”

  “I would have made him wait until she came of age.”

  “And so shall my brother.”

  “No!” Dane yelled, stepping forward. “No! She’s not for him! He killed our mother! Don’t try to put your twisted beliefs on the messed up situation. I’d see her dead before I allowed her such a fate.”

  Isaiah growled and Dane turned his rage on him. “And I’d kill you before I ever let you lay a hand on her,” he sneered.

  The bishop’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Dane. Be calm. No decision has been made. Your sister is in my care and I do not take that lightly. She is but a sixteen-year-old child incapable of deciding for herself. I would not submit her to such a thing. We must wait until she is of age and then we shall decide. Who knows what will happen in that time.”

  “But what if the bonding can save them both?” Ezekiel asked and in that moment, the gentle man who had given Dane so much, became his enemy.

  “No,” Dane growled.

  “It could save her, Dane. Do you not want your sister back?” Ezekiel asked.

  “My sister is dead,” he said through gritted teeth. “And so is your brother. Kill them both and be done with it.” Unable to take any more, he turned and ran from the cellar.

  * * * *

  Eleazar sighed as the cellar door slammed behind Dane. “David,” he called.

  “Yes, sir,” David said, stepping forward.

  “We will move Cybil and Isaiah to new cells until these are mended. I want you to remain here. If she is truly his mate, I find it hard to believe he holds the restraint to wait until she is an adult. I do not want them neighboring each other’s cell. The child is my responsibility. I will have a cell built elsewhere for her tomorrow. Until then, I want someone on guard at all times.”

  He turned to Isaiah. It was unheard of for a feeish male, gone as far as Isaiah to suddenly assume the means to communicate. Moments like this, he wished he had an immortal older than himself to offer advice.

  “Isaiah,” he said. “I do not know if you understand what I speak, but you shall not touch her or by all that is holy I shall destroy you and her.”

  Isaiah growled, telling Eleazar perhaps he did understand. The bishop turned back to Ezekiel, “I hold you responsible for her safety. She is lost, but still innocent. Do not sacrifice your morals for a male who, although is your kin, has broken more laws than we can count.”

  “She will be safe,” Ezekiel promised. “The years leading to her adulthood shall be long, but I give you my word, he shall not lay a hand on her before then, so long as you allow him to live.”

  “He shall live until he proves again he is not worthy of this life. One immoral act and I shall relieve him of the gift.” Facing the others, he ordered, “Move them. I need to tend to Adriel.”

  As the others arranged to shift the cells of their two captives, Eleazar entered the cell that held his friend. Today had been a nightmare. He had suspected it would be, with Dane’s request to discuss the execution of Isaiah, but never had he imagined this nonsense.

  His fingers brushed over Adriel’s pale cheek. What was he going to do about Cerberus? Perhaps he should allow her arms to protect herself, but there would be no weapon strong enough to more than sedate an immortal of her mate’s age.

  The Schrock territory was isolated, far from the other families on the farm. He did not like the idea of Adriel returning to her vacant house alone and unprotected. He could ask that Christian take her in for the time being, but Christian was busy with his new mate. Perhaps she would agree to stay with them at the Safe House.

  “Shall I assist you?”

  Eleazar turned and found Christian standing in the entrance of the cell. “Have they moved the others?”

  Christian shook his head. “Indeed. The two are being quite docile. Why do you suppose that is?”

  Eleazar shrugged. “Perhaps Ezekiel is right.”

  “Do you truly believe that?” Christian asked. “The girl was not yet born when he started dreaming.”

  “Do you recall the fire, several centuries ago?”

  “I do,” Christian said.

  “Ezekiel would have died, had Isaiah not saved him.”

  Christian frowned. “No one was in the building.”

  “That’s right, because Isaiah had a vision and made sure his brother was safe. He had a gift for seeing events before they unfolded. Perhaps he saw her before her time, knew she was coming. Was he not there, in the woods, when her mother died?”

  “He killed their mother.”

  “Yes, but perhaps the girl will grow to resemble the woman. Perhaps he saw her and thought…I do not know, Christian. I only know that God has a plan and sometimes, when we try to talk before He speaks to us in His own way, things can go very, very wrong.”

  “Like with your mate and Silus.”

  He lowered his gaze. Millennia could pass and he would still blame himself for placing Larissa in a marriage before she was called to him. “Yes. We must allow time to bring about clarity. It will all come to light in the end.”

  Christian nodded. “What of my mother?”

  Eleazar sighed. “I shall invite her to live here for a while. It has been centuries since I have seen your sire. I do not suspect he will take long in finding her, especially now that he has learned of your existence. I cannot imagine the betrayal of discovering his mate bore a son and hid it will suit him. He will seek vengeance.”

&nbs
p; “He perhaps has many sons, Dane for instance.”

  “In the eyes of a male like Cerberus, they are but bastards. You are of his mate’s womb and, just as he saw her, you are a possession to him.”

  Christian scowled. “Why have I never, in three hundred years, been told his name until now?”

  “It was only to protect your mother.”

  “And if he comes for her, Bishop, do you intend to intercede? Will you violate your own laws and interfere on their rightful privacy as mates?”

  “Will you?” he tossed the question back at Christian.

  “I will kill any thing that threatens those I love and gladly pay the consequences.”

  Eleazar nodded in agreement. These were his loved ones and he would not stand idly by while their safety was threatened. “I’m going to bring her upstairs,” he said, nodding toward Adriel. “Perhaps you should check on Delilah.”

  He nodded. “Let me know if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Christian.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The door opened and Delilah turned, relief easing her tension as Christian stepped into the room.

  “You are alone?” he asked

  “Larissa went to check on Mariah.”

  He nodded and shut the door. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Is your mom okay?”

  The tension of the day showed in the lines on his face. “The bishop is tending to her. She is a strong female.”

  He looked weary and she wanted to comfort him. He was hers, after all. Shouldn’t she tend to his needs as he did hers? She scooted over on the bed and patted the mattress. “Take a load off.”

  His collar was undone, something Christian didn’t often do. He was usually so put together. As he sat, she climbed behind him and massaged his shoulders, feeling the tension knotted in his muscles.

  “Soooo…” she said as she worked out the kinks in his back. His head lowered and he gave a contented sigh. “That guy was your dad.”