by Tamara White
Huh, Quinn must really care to go to those lengths for Tristan. I mean, if he got caught driving around with bodies in the back of his car or truck, then it would most definitely not end well for him. He could get flagged by human police and possibly the council.
Tristan leads me alongside the walls that surround Midnight until we’re out past the back wall. “Uh, where are you taking me?” I question, as we near the woods. It’s not that I’m afraid of going in with him, but it’s the fact I’m tired as hell. It’s just lucky I had a decent feed tonight, or I’d be exhausted for the rest of the week, but hopefully, I won’t need to be out more than an hour each night. At least until the weekend when I can recharge my body completely.
All the supes go crazy on weekends. I don’t know what it is that makes them think it’s the opportune time to hunt, or whether it’s simply because that’s when the majority of humans let their hair down, but I’m guaranteed to get a decent feed both nights, and so long as I don’t use too much energy during the week, I shouldn’t need to hunt much at all and focus on the answers I need.
“Relax, Isobel. We have a house back here. My mother moved here after my father left us, choosing to stay close to Midnight so we would be safe. Well, as safe as we could be, I guess.”
He weaves among the trees and I stick close. After what feels like an hour of walking, I grow frustrated. “Okay, Tristan, how much longer? I need sleep and it may just be more productive to go back to my dorm.”
“We’re almost there, just one more minute. Trust me,” he soothes, and I roll my eyes. How his family ever saw him as a monster is beyond me.
Sure enough, a minute later there’s a break in the trees. Tristan guides me out onto a lush green lawn, and I look around in complete surprise. What the hell is this place?
Who would build a house in the middle of the woods, and one that looks as luxurious as this? Sure, it’s a little dilapidated, but you can see the bones of what must have once been a very expensive home. Dark wood and old stained windows decorate the three-story building, and I find myself completely enamored by it. It’s a beautiful piece of architecture. Something that would have made my dad all giddy with excitement. He loved older buildings like this. Ones that have history and character, as he called it.
We walk hand in hand around the back of the house to a large gravel drive, which leads down through trees and out to what I assume is a dirt road of some kind that helps them get in and out of this place.
We’re almost to the bottom of the steps that lead up to the front door when the door in question bursts open and Adrian stumbles out, followed by Marcus, Jesse, and then Quinn. Tristan and I pause, and the guys do too when they see us, surprise clear in their expressions, followed quickly by relief.
Quinn, however, notices me watching him and the others, so his expression of relief quickly morphs to indifference. He crosses his arms and glares down at me like he wishes I’d be on my merry way, but unluckily for him, he’s going to be seeing a lot more of me.
“Thank you for bringing Tristan home safe. You can leave now.” His dismissal pisses me off, both on my behalf and Tristan’s.
“For your information, I’m staying the night. Tristan and I made a deal and I lost. So here I am,” I declare, opening my arms theatrically.
“Excuse me, but you’re not staying here. You’re not welcome! Hell, it’s your fault Tristan ran away in the first place. He could have killed someone!”
I bristle angrily. How dare he use Tristan as a crutch and treat him like he’s nothing. “So Tristan’s invitation means nothing to you then? Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass, you’d see he ran away because you all treat him like a child and not a fucking adult. Maybe if you got off your fucking high horse, you’d see he’s a grown ass man and more than capable of leaving the house without an entourage.”
By the time I’ve finished my mini rant, Quinn is vibrating with anger. His lips are thinned and he looks very much on the verge of diving down the steps and throttling me.
Suddenly, his expression clears to one of smugness. “You’re forgetting, I’m the one responsible for everyone here, and as such, I can refuse entry to anyone I don’t want in the safety of our home.”
I shrug, trying not to let myself be hurt by the way he’s rejecting me. After all, I mean nothing to him, so why would he care about hurting my feelings or making me stay awake when I have more important shit to be doing? Like sleeping.
“Fine, you want to be a petty asshole, then I’ll go.”
Tristan looks gutted, so I offer him a smile. “Come on, Tristan. You can come stay with me. Grab your stuff and let’s go.”
Tristan’s eyes light up and he bolts past the men on the porch, quickly rushing into the house.
None of the boys look happy with my interference.
“Isobel, I don’t think it’s a good idea to take Tristan with you. You have no idea what he’s capable of. He doesn’t think right sometimes. He may take your invitation as one to have sex with him,” Marcus warns, and I just smirk.
“And, your point is? Tristan fucked me against an alley wall tonight. Hard and fast, just how I like it. I’m sure I’m more than capable of going another round with him if he wants to.”
All of them are thoroughly shocked by my words and it brings a happy smile to my lips. No one seems to know what to say. I spare a glance to Jesse but he doesn’t look bothered in the slightest. Now that his shock is wearing off, he looks pleased.
When Tristan comes running back out of the house with a bag, I offer him my hand to hold. He takes it, a big smile lighting up his face, and we walk back the way we came.
“I’m sorry your family is a bunch of asses,” I finally say when we clear the woods and approach the back gate that will lead directly to my dorm.
“Are you kidding me? You stood up for me, which is more than anyone else has ever done for me. This will be the first time I’ve ever stayed somewhere else since I’ve been turned.”
That’s really sad. I feel horrible for him. I loved having sleepovers when I was a teen, and even through college. Did he ever get to go out and do those things a lot of us take for granted? Did they just make him stay hidden away for “his safety” rather than let him develop those crucial bonds? How else do they expect him to form natural reactions to people if he’s isolated?
“I’m glad you’re staying with me, Tristan. I just wish I could make it as fun as you deserve. Sadly, I need sleep because I’m gonna be up at the asscrack of dawn to train with Ellen. But maybe another day? We can get snacks, watch a movie, stay up late, but tonight I really need to sleep.”
He lets go of my hand to wrap an arm around my shoulders as a yawn overtakes me. “I don’t need all that, Isobel. I’m just happy to spend time with you. Stupid as it may seem, but I think you were meant to be part of my life.” He breathes in, taking a sniff of my hair as he does. “Do you believe in fate, Isobel?”
I snort, unable to hold back the harsh laugh that follows. “Sorry, you got the wrong girl if you think I believe in fate. My family all died in a vicious attack, I turned into a monster, and then when I finally thought life was on the right track, my fiancé cheated on me. I lost my baby when I ran from him, and now I’m being hunted by dicks in power who want to force me into biting another innocent person since they aren’t happy I’m not their little minion. So no, I don’t believe in fate. I believe we’re given a set of circumstances in life and we make what we can of them.”
He pulls up short as we reach my dorm doors, turning to me with such sadness in his eyes. “You were pregnant?”
Ah shit, I don’t want his sympathy. Not right now and not about something so personal. “Uh, yes, I was, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want your pity, Tristan.”
“I don’t pity you. I admire you. You are stronger than you look, Isobel. To have been through all that and not be as messed up as I am, well, it gives me hope.” I open my mouth to say something, but I’m lost for words. Tristan, seeing my i
nability to speak, gives me a mischievous smile. “And if I ever meet the man who cheated on you, I’ll disembowel him for you,” he announces brightly. My lips twitch, because I think I would honestly love to see Tristan destroy Drake until he was nothing but blood and guts littering the ground.
“You know, I might actually enjoy that,” I respond, as I pass him and open the door to my dorm. He follows after me with a spring in his step, and I feel happy at the protectiveness he showed me. He has no clue who Drake is or how powerful he is, but it means the world that he wants to defend my honor.
We reach my floor in no time, and I hurry to my room, eager to strip down and just sleep. I have four hours until Ellen is going to wake me up, and I’ll be a cranky bitch if I don’t get some shut-eye.
When we get to my room, I open the door, noticing my paperclip is still in place. It means no one has broken in during the short time I was out.
Tristan comes into my room, looking around slowly like he expected something different. I close the door behind him before locking it and then moving the desk behind it. Tristan watches me, but doesn’t say a word.
“Toilet is through there if you need it,” I inform him, pointing to the closet-like door. “If you want a shower, you’re gonna have to wait until morning.”
He nods and drops his bag as I begin pulling out weapons, piling them on the shelf under the TV rather than hiding them away. Some things I’m ready to share, others I’m not. I strip nude in no time and just grab a tank and panties to sleep in. I doubt Tristan cares if he’s seeing my naked body after what we shared tonight.
Once I’m dressed, I climb into bed and scoot over enough so Tristan can join me. He does so in nothing but his boxers. He lies down and faces me with a tired smile. “You know, you’re different than what I expected my mate would be like,” he mutters sleepily.
“You think I’m your mate?” I ask, stifling my surprise. I should have known that he thought such a thing, especially after his little declaration of love today. Jordan and Drake used to say they were mates, and that it meant we had an instant bond. Sure, it still needed to be nurtured to grow, but it would always be there. I believed them both but it was hard to accept that Drake could be my mate and do such things.
To this day, I don’t fully believe in the concept. Maybe there are some predestined relationships that make you more compatible with another being, but I don’t think it means you’re fated to be together or that you have to be. All I know is a relationship is destined to fail without love or trust.
“I don’t think you’re my mate, I know you are.” His eyes flutter closed, and I smile at how content he seems to be, to just fall asleep with a stranger.
Maybe I should be concerned that my own instincts are telling me this is the most normal thing in the world rather than warning me away and insisting I protect myself. But a stronger instinct insists Tristan would never hurt me.
But then again, I once believed such a thing of Drake. That he would die before hurting me, and yet he did.
But there is one thing I’ve learned since I ran. I can’t lock everyone out. I need to live my life, not be afraid of it. This connection with Tristan and his family may just be sexual, or there may be something more. Until they prove untrustworthy, they at least deserve the benefit of the doubt.
I close my eyes and let myself relax. I won’t let them hurt me again. If they try, I’ll make them all suffer at my hands.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jordan
I glance over at Drake’s cell, wondering just how much poison was in the bullets he was hit with. I woke up two days ago, but he’s been out to the world. For a while, I wondered if he’d died from an overdose, but when I listened carefully, I could hear the light thumping of his heart. Now it’s just a waiting game for his body to burn the drugs out of his system. But I don’t think it’s gonna be easy, The only reason he isn’t awake yet is the ill effects from removing his brand. I can smell the rot starting and know he needs to be healed as quickly as possible to stop it from spreading. That’s probably why none of the council have come down yet. They are wanting to draw it out, to ensure he’s too weak to refuse them.
In the time I’ve been awake, not one of them have made their way to the dungeon. When I started to question it, I noticed the cameras in the corner of our cells and assumed they were waiting for us both to be awake before they began their interrogation.
The only people to come down here have been the guards, and even they only come one at a time. I wanted to ask them why they didn’t come in pairs, because it was a big insult to our abilities if they thought we only needed one guard, but I simply watched, and I finally understood. Each guard that came down only had one key. Our cells required two separate keys to open, so if we were to overpower one guard, only one of us would go free. It was a clever tactic, one I’m sure Jebediah had a hand in. He’s that conniving. And he’s the one person who would get a thrill out of giving us a little hope of escape, only for us to overpower a guard and find out the truth.
Each guard only patrols once a day and never at the same time. The first one brings me a blood bag, one that’s obviously been left out to go off, if the taste is anything to go by. Then sometime in the hour after I’ve fed, another brings down a rancid steak for Drake. Since he’s not awake, they slide it in the gap at the door and just leave it. When they come with a new one, they don’t take the other, which makes for a horrid odor that permeates the cells. And to be honest, if I had to watch Drake eat something so disgusting, I’d lose what little blood they fed me, because that shit is nasty.
I sink into the floor and look over at Drake, hoping he’ll wake soon. I don’t know how long the council will remain patient. And while we’re in the cells now, I know they will transfer us to the prison facilities soon.
Staring at Drake, I realize I have to get him out before that happens, because he won’t survive the supernatural prison. I know from having been there myself. I don’t think he’s strong enough to handle the gangs that are within their walls.
It’s not like human prisons where you have maximum and minimum security facilities. Our prisons, the three that there are, are all maximum level facilities with no chance of escape unless you’ve been pardoned by a council member or the Supreme Alpha.
The compounds are not only filled with those who commit the occasional murder or disobey the council’s rules, it also houses some of the worst supes to ever exist. The ones who age but don’t die and grow in power with each decade they live.
It’s the curse of being nearly impossible to kill. Most supes will die by asking their packs, covens, Sleuths, and such to end their life when the time has come for them to move on. But there are a few supes who don’t want their life to ever end. And so they go mad with every decade they age. They grow more powerful and think they can do anything because of the power they hold. Which is why they’re imprisoned. It gives them a place to live and fight out the power plays they crave without hurting anyone outside or making a mess of the humans.
I only know just how horrible it is because a couple centuries ago, I had to spend two years undercover inside the prison. And while some things may have changed in two hundred years, most things won’t have. Drake is young, only a mere five decades. Whereas some of the people down there are millennia old. Not many, but he’s such a stubborn person he wouldn’t be able to blend in. To remain hidden from those who would cause him unimaginable pain.
I had to go through my own punishments when I was sent in, and that was from those low in power, not the higher-ups. It took a year before the higher-ups took a chance with me, and the things I went through are not something I think a younger man could handle. Hell, there were days where I doubted I could keep going, but by some miracle, I survived it all.
I was working for a sub-council and Alpha in Europe, but we kept getting word of this one gang within the walls who were manipulating smaller packs to amass a following outside and planning a possible jailbreak.
/> My job was to find out how the hell they were getting orders back and forth when no two same people ever passed through the walls after release. Usually, you had your first stay, and if you broke another council’s rules, it was deemed you would be sent for a lifetime sentence unless an appeal was launched.
It turned out that a person would get sent in for breaking a small rule and be given the orders needed then when they left, then those orders were passed on to the packs, Sleuths, Pantheras, and other animal groups to ensure they were followed.
After fourteen months, I figured out that they truly had people acting as mules, voluntarily getting caught breaking a small infraction just to be sentenced to a short stay in the prisons, and then they were released anywhere from a month to six months later. Only, it wasn’t just weapons or cell phones they were smuggling into the system like normal prisoners, it was orders that they were smuggling out. Orders that would help to ensure a jailbreak, and because of my time there, I was able to guarantee that didn’t happen.
Suddenly, my thoughts are broken by a commotion echoing down the stone halls. A woman is clearly crying while two people order her to shut her filthy mouth. I hear the resonance of a slap before the woman dissolves into sobs. As they get closer, I pretend to remain uninterested, knowing this could be a ploy from the council. I’ve lived a long time and there are many ways I’ve gotten information from those imprisoned by me. Sending a weak female is one such way. It makes males naturally protective and more inclined to open up.
The female is dragged to the cell next to mine, which tells me this is some kind of ploy by the council. She could very well be an innocent, but why put her near us? She may have committed some crime and they want her down here to await trial, but if they can use her to get to us, then they probably will.
The guards throw the woman into the cell, her body hitting the concrete with a loud thud, and she sobs louder, her pain obvious in her cries. They close the door with a bang and laugh as the woman flinches, her hands raising to cover her head. I glance to the side as they leave and see the dirt stained rags the woman is wearing.
