Renounced

by Bailey Bradford

  The next guards he shot—clean, quick kills. Ryder stopped at a door and shifted.

  Marcus raised both weapons. He heard the slight whistling sound and shouted, “Duck!” as he proceeded to do just that.

  The dart went over his head. Marcus spun and fired several shots down the hall but the man who had held the tranq gun had already scampered into a room and slammed the door.

  “He has to be taken care of, or else we’re likely to find ourselves darted at the worst possible time,” Marcus whispered.

  “Like there would be a good time for that? Ever?” someone asked through the door. “Really, I doubt that would be the case. You are aware you are preventing this man in here from getting the medical care he needs? What a shame.”

  Ryder shouted and Marcus knew the man they were hunting had to be a shifter. He shouldn’t have been able to hear Marcus whispering otherwise, not even with listening devices.

  Ryder rammed the door with his shoulder. “Open this fucking door!”

  “I think…not,” the man who had to be Robert Butler replied. “Seems a good way to get myself killed.”

  “Argh!” Ryder hit the door again. It held.

  “It’s not going anywhere,” Butler taunted. “I have these great metal bars across it, and the door itself is steel, except of course for this little opening here.”

  Butler must have been talking about the slit about five and a half feet up.

  “This is all very simple,” Butler was saying. “You took my drug runners away from me. I want them back. Since I suspect they’re dead, that means you, Ryder, can take over where Dirk was once my right hand man. Of course, I can’t simply trust you like I did your predecessor. Did you kill him, Ryder?”

  “No,” Marcus said firmly. “That would be me, Butler. What kind of shifter are you?”

  “Figured that out, did you?” Butler chuckled. “My… I see I went after the wrong wolf to control. Is the little red-headed man yours?”

  “Fuck. You. Asshole,” Nathan snarled. “Step out here and say that to my face.”

  “Ah ah, I’m not stupid, just blunt. You are short.”

  Nathan canted his head. “I can kill him. I won’t feel guilty.”

  Marcus knew better. “What do you really want, Butler?”

  “Control,” Butler answered. “As I had with Dirk. Perhaps I want this man in here with me, too. Would that require the death of Ryder?”

  Marcus grabbed at Ryder when he went for the door again. “Stop. That’s doing no good at all.”

  Ryder slapped the door. “You stupid bastard. If you kill me—”

  Marcus gave a sharp shake of his head. Knowledge was power, and Butler had no knowledge of many things that existed for the wolf shifters.

  “Maarten would never have you,” Ryder finished with.

  “If he even survives. I suppose I should admit that the brugmansia was a mistake. I didn’t think it’d do anything. Wolfsbane, really? How clichéd.”

  Marcus guessed the brugmansia was a form of datura, or related to it somehow. He’d have to educate himself on it, that was for certain.

  And he was done with this talking through the door shit.

  Marcus stepped back and pulled Ryder with him. He gestured with his head and hoped Ryder got it.

  “What is that I’m feeling?” Butler asked. “Like a wave of electricity or energy. Or—well fuck me, I’m about to find out.”

  Marcus charged not the door, but the wall, with Ryder hitting it beside him. Plaster and drywall were easier to break through than steel.

  “Ah! Shit!” Butler shouted. “Stop or I’ll—”

  Whatever else he intended to say was drowned out by the rending of the wall. Even the two by fours bracing it snapped. Pieces from the ceiling rained down on their heads. Marcus and Ryder shoved through it all.

  “Maarten!” Ryder cried out.

  Marcus saw Maarten on the floor, curled into a smaller ball than should have been possible.

  He also caught a glimpse of a black jaguar leaping out of the window. “Son of a bitch!”

  Marcus reached the window in time to see Butler disappear around the side of the house. “Jaguar shifters are apparently bad news.”

  “That’s what he is?” Nathan nodded. “Oh. He is. Why doesn’t he reek like the one that took Dallas?”

  “There’s something here muffling his natural scent.” Marcus sniffed. “Pheromones. And I bet the vents have some kind of odor neutralizer coming through them.”

  “He’s not the same jaguar that took Dallas, right?”

  Marcus turned and found Keegan standing on the other side of the torn out wall.

  “I heard y’all talking,” Keegan offered by way of explanation. He glanced to his left. “Right through here, Zoe, Olin. They have the root and the guy who knows what to do with it.”

  Ryder looked up from Maarten, whom he was cradling partially in his arms. “Hurry them the fuck up!”

  In short order, an older, white-haired man who was thin as a rail and not more than five feet tall shuffled in. He said something that Marcus didn’t understand.

  But Ryder did. “I don’t care who ordered it. If it will undo what’s been given to my ma—Maarten, then give it to him!”

  The old man took out a knife and began carving up the root. He peeked away the dirt and dark outer layer to expose a bright white pulp beneath. Then he waved the thing at Maarten and Ryder took it from him.

  “If this makes him worse…” Ryder didn’t have to say anything else. His meaning was quiet clear.

  The old man didn’t seem scared. He babbled and made ‘hurry up’ gestures with his hands.

  Ryder rubbed the exposed root over Maarten’s lips. When Maarten parted them, Ryder slid the tip of the root in. “Suck,” he ordered.

  At first nothing happened. Maarten didn’t even appear to be doing what Ryder had told him.

  “Come on, honey,” Ryder urged. “Come on. For both of us.”

  It was the impetus Maarten needed. He wouldn’t want his mate to suffer and die, which was exactly what would happen to Ryder if Maarten didn’t survive.

  Maarten closed his mouth around the root. A squeaky sucking noise followed.

  “Yeah, keep at it.” Ryder slipped more of the root in.

  The old man cackled and clapped.

  And Maarten shook so hard his back popped. He uncurled himself from the fetal position he’d been in. His eyes opened and he gasped as he spat the root out—or tried to. With Ryder holding him in place, Maarten had to turn his head as he coughed and hacked, after which he vomited for half a minute.

  “God. That has to have cleaned him out,” Olin muttered. “Ew.”

  Maarten swiped at his mouth and chin. “Get me out of here.”

  Ryder loosed something very close to a sob. “I am. Gods, honey, don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

  “We should leave,” Keegan suggested. “I don’t know how many guards might still be here.”

  “You didn’t kill them all?” Marcus asked, surprised.

  Keegan pursed his lips for a second. “We killed all of them we saw. Doesn’t mean someone might not have called for backup.”

  “Good point.” Marcus found the old man staring at him. “Yes?”

  After a round of speaking so quickly Marcus couldn’t even decide if it was gibberish or actual words, the man stood on his toes and touched the tips of his fingers to Marcus’ brow.

  “Says he’s blessing you because you’re the one,” Ryder interpreted.

  Olin snickered. “Now we’re all going to call you Neo like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix.”

  But Marcus felt the warm, sure flow of power from the old man’s fingertips. It wasn’t a dark magic being granted him. It was, as Ryder had said, a blessing.

  Marcus had no idea what the whole ‘one’ thing was. Probably had to do with him being the first gay Alpha Anax.

  “Thank you,” he told the old man when he was done. He shook his hand and gestured to Z
oe. “Can you and someone else escort him out. Make sure he doesn’t get hurt?”

  “Sure thing.” Zoe called out for assistance. A second later she was leading him away.

  “That was odd,” Keegan said, staring at Marcus’ brow. “He didn’t do anything that hurt?”

  “No, actually, I feel better than ever.” Marcus’ forehead tingled. He touched it. The skin seemed warmer and softer where the old man’s fingertips had rested. “He wasn’t doing anything bad.”

  “I could feel it, too.” Ryder got to his feet, assisting Maarten up as he did so. “It was like a healing or… Well, a blessing. Nothing negative to it.”

  “What was he saying?” Marcus asked. “Besides the part about me being the one?”

  Ryder shook his head. “I didn’t listen to all of it. I was concentrating on Maarten. You’re the one, and you’ll know what you have to do, but it’s not soon. I might have half or all of that wrong, mind you.”

  Marcus decided to let it drop. “Let’s get out of here. We still need to find Butler. Maybe if we get Dallas back, his jaguar stalker will come for him. We can get some answers from that cat. Surely he will know of other jaguar shifters here.”

  They quickly exited the house as Marcus mulled over the situation with Dallas.

  He’d try not to challenge the one that had taken Dallas, though he couldn’t promise himself that he wouldn’t. Despite what Guillermo had said about the sounds he’d heard coming from the cave where Dallas had been kept, for all anyone knew, what had happened wasn’t consensual—or it had been coerced, with Dallas fearing for his life if he didn’t give in.

  Dallas was a pleaser, which was something else Marcus had to remember. If he could make a man happy or feel better about himself with sex, then Dallas was open to it. Not a bad quality and it didn’t make Dallas a slut like some others had whispered. No one should be judging Dallas—the man had a good heart.

  Also a cautious one, using sex as a buffer to keep a distance between him and others. It hadn’t escaped Marcus’ notice that, while Dallas had many sexual encounters, he’d had no long-term relationships.

  Knowing Dallas’ past as he did, Marcus wasn’t surprised by that. He could also see how Dallas could be manipulated sexually. If the jaguar shifter had done such a thing…

  Nathan nudged his hip. “Could be that they are attracted to each other. What then?”

  Marcus was trying to keep an open mind about the jaguar species of breeders. He ignored the inquisitive look Keegan shot his way as they all reached the back fence.

  “I don’t know if I can shift,” Maarten said. “Not yet. I’m… Gods, everything still hurts.”

  “I’ll get the car and bring it to the back gate. There is one, you know, right there.” Olin pointed. “Keegan can get the other vehicle, and Yolanda is waiting in the other car. I just need to get to the phones and call her so she can help with pickup.”

  “Be safe,” Marcus said before Olin and Keegan left.

  It was only a minute before Olin pulled around in the car, with Keegan following in the van.

  Marcus gestured to the van. “You and Maarten get in there. It has more room. We’re going to have to dispose of our phones completely now and get new ones. It won’t do us any good to get back in these vehicles if we’re carrying around phones that are being tracked.”

  “I hate programming a new phone,” Nathan groused. “We have to let Dana know. What if we just get a couple of temp phones and use them for all of us for now?”

  “Should work.” Marcus and Nathan joined Olin and Keegan in the car as Olin asked Zoe to drive the van.

  “I’ll sit in the back with Nathan,” Marcus offered. “You can sit with your mate.”

  Olin gave him a suspicious look. “I’m not done being mad at you.”

  Marcus shrugged. “You’re not the first—or worst—person I’ve pissed off.”

  That seemed to irritate Olin even more, which—while juvenile of him—made Marcus happy. Sometimes he had to let go and just be a man instead of the leader of many packs. Snarking back and forth with Olin made him feel like one of the guys—a rare enough experience for Marcus.

  In the back seat, Nathan leaned against him. “So what now?”

  “Now we ditch the phones, grab a couple of new ones, then we get back to Ryder’s pack lands after we meet up with Guillermo and Vero, and rescue Dallas.” Marcus tapped Keegan’s seat. “We should check our phones before we leave them.”

  Keegan got back out and opened the trunk. Marcus took his phone when Keegan brought it to him.

  “Ryder’s got a missed call and a voice message from Guillermo,” Keegan told him.

  Marcus nodded. “I have one from him, too.” Excitement and unease battled in his gut. It had to be about Dallas. Marcus pressed the voicemail arrow. His relief at hearing Dallas’ voice was powerful. He had a soft spot for the man.

  “Marcus, it’s Dallas. Guillermo told me about Maarten. Gods, please let us know when you get him back. I know you will. Um. Sorry to bug you. I just didn’t want you to worry. I… Please don’t kill the jaguar shifter. Tiago, that’s his name. I’ll explain when I get back. Guillermo and Vero are going to take me to Ryder’s. Hopefully I’ll see you there.”

  “Bug me,” Marcus murmured, shaking his head.

  “Dallas doesn’t like to be trouble for anyone,” Nathan said. “I bet he’s been worried about stressing you out the whole time that he’s been missing.” Nathan scratched his chin. “Huh. He didn’t sound terrified or hurt, either. Makes me think you have the answer to the question about what kind of sex went on with him and the jag.”

  “The mind can be an odd thing, protecting a person by masking events from the past.” Marcus knew that. He’d only just stopped having nightmares about his own time in captivity. They’d started up again after years of nothing, then had ceased in the past month or so. Marcus put it down to stress and the loss of so many of his guards a year ago when Dirk had attacked the compound.

  “Talking to him face to face will tell more than a voice message does,” Marcus added. He sent a quick text to Guillermo’s phone, telling him that they had Maarten and that all the phones might very well be compromised. “Did Ryder tell Guillermo to ditch his phone?” Marcus asked Keegan.

  “I’ll go check.” Keegan jogged off and returned less than a minute later. “He was waiting to see if you wanted to reply. He’ll call Guillermo now and tell him.”

  Marcus handed his phone to Keegan. “I liked that phone.”

  Keegan took it. “We’ll have to find better ones that can’t be hacked or tracked or…” He shrugged. “I’ll just take care of these. Olin, care to help?”

  “Sure. I like stomping on thousands of dollars’ worth of technology.” Olin rolled his eyes and got out. “Actually, I do.”

  Five minutes later, they were finally on the road. The phones were shattered and had been left behind in tiny pieces.

  “I’ll stop somewhere that sells pre-paid phones,” Keegan said.

  Olin glanced at him. “It’s a fiercely competitive market here. Shouldn’t be hard to find something decent.”

  Marcus rested his head on the back of the seat and sighed when Nathan snuggled up against him. He wanted to go home, take Nathan to their big bed in their nice, chilly bedroom, and make love with him for hours. It seemed like the past year in particular had been very difficult, with little time to unwind. It was all part and parcel of being who and what he was, but Marcus could still yearn for a break now and then.

  “Maybe things will calm down after this,” Nathan thought to him. “We could get together with Gabe and Mika, have a weekend get-away, if Aidan and Zane will keep an eye on things. Mm. We could do that then spend a few days in Gila, just running and being carefree. What do you say?”

  “It sounds perfect.” And Marcus doubted it would happen. He was less willing to step away from his packs now than he used to be. There were too many things that could happen, and his mind spun out worst-case scenarios
at a disturbing rate when he really thought about taking a few days off.

  “Even the president and other world leaders take vacations, sugar,” Nathan whispered.

  Marcus knew that. He didn’t want to argue and wasn’t going to be persuaded, even if he wanted to be.

  Nathan rested a hand on his stomach, rubbing lightly. He didn’t push or nag. He simply accepted Marcus and loved him. That was better than any vacation, any day.

  Chapter Ten

  Dallas was aware that Tiago was following them. The jaguar made no secret of it. Guillermo and Vero weren’t thrilled, but there was little they could do. Confronting Tiago wouldn’t get them anywhere, and Dallas had asked them not to.

  “You and him?” Guillermo asked, his cheeks turning ruddy.

  Dallas gave him an innocent look. “Me and him what?”

  Vero snickered.

  Guillermo glared at him then grumbled about ungrateful shifters.

  Dallas was fairly sure Guillermo wasn’t really mad, but he didn’t know Guillermo well, so he could have been wrong.

  Guillermo was a good guy, unlike his power-hungry, murderous brother Dirk. Dallas hated thinking about Dirk and the pain he’d caused—not only to Marcus and the pack, but to others as well. He’d been a sick fucker who had raped and killed and done whatever he wanted with no regards for others. How he could be related to Guillermo and Juanita was beyond Dallas’ comprehension.

  “He is going to follow us the whole way back,” Guillermo said after a few hours. “I do not like that.”

  “He already knows where the pack lives,” Dallas told him. “He’s been watching it for a while. If he wanted to kill everyone, don’t you think he’d have done so already?”

  Guillermo glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t know what to think, other than I wish I had some catnip. It could be entertaining to watch a jaguar get stoned.”

  Tiago roared, though it was more of a rough, almost hacking sound than not.

  Dallas mused over whether or not catnip would have an effect on a jaguar. “Not sure that would work, even if he wasn’t a shifter.”

  “I still can’t get over there being other types of shifters,” Vero said, joining the conversation. “My family has lived here for generations, and never have I heard of any other breed of shifters. It’s very strange.”