by Lynn Hagen
What Salvador had done had screwed with his head. Omar had never known anyone who could move objects with their mind. It was downright scary.
But what was scarier was that he knew the vampire was telling the truth. Omar just didn’t want to admit it. He just couldn’t deny to himself that he had two mates. He should be a raving lunatic by now. The scientists had tried to make him a babbling idiot.
But he hadn’t allowed them to break him.
Although changing into a cougar had blown his mind. They had tried to take away his ability to shift. So how in the hell had he gained another breed? A better question was, did he have any other breeds inside of him besides werewolf and cougar?
“Fuck,” Omar said softly as he hurried down the steps. He really did need fresh air. His head was spinning with too many thoughts.
“You shouldn’t go out there alone,” Nate said from the living room as Omar passed the room. “It isn’t safe.”
Omar ignored Nate as he stepped outside, inhaling the night air. He was feeling trapped again, even though he was standing on the front porch. His skin began to feel like bugs were crawling all over him.
Nate stepped out behind him. “Something wrong, Omar?”
“No,” Omar answered quickly, scratching his arms, trying to get rid of the creepy feeling. As the itching intensified, Omar knew it was more than just his nerves. He could feel something moving inside of him, and it wasn’t the beasts he knew to be there.
It was something else.
“You don’t look so hot.”
“I don’t feel so hot either,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
“Easy, now,” Nate said as he placed a hand on Omar’s shoulder. “Is it being free after spending nearly a year locked up? Is that was has you so jumpy?”
Omar glanced at Nate, looking him in his jade-green eyes. “I’m not jumpy.”
“Omar, you’re twitching.”
Glancing down, Omar saw his hands and arms twitching slightly, just as Nate had said. “S–Something’s wrong with me, Nate.”
Nate ran his hand over Omar’s back, trying to give him reassurance. “There is nothing wrong with you, Omar. They tried to head-fuck you. That is all. Just give it time. You’ll get through this.”
“No,” Omar said as he glanced at his hands and saw…hooves. Fucking hooves! Just what in the hell had they done to him at the detention center? He had survived so many injections that he wasn’t sure what they had turned him into. He held his hooves up for Nate to see.
“Holy shit!” Nate said as he jumped back, staring at Omar’s hands with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”
“Something is wrong with me.” Omar waved his hands…er…hooves around, trying to get them off of him. “Nate, make them go away!”
“Hold still, Omar.”
As hard as it was, Omar stilled, holding his hooves toward Nate. “Now what?” he asked in a panic.
“Fuck if I know. But I didn’t want you hitting me with those things.” Nate examined Omar’s hands…from a distance. “I think you need to finish shifting so we can see what you are.”
“I don’t have a special little fucking gift hidden under my wrapper, Nate!” Omar shouted. “Make them go away!”
“Omar, shift,” Nate said exasperatedly. “That is the only way to make this go away. Shift and then shift back into your human form.”
“O–Okay,” Omar said as he swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what he was going to shift into, but he was going to do as Nate said. Omar closed his eyes and let the change take over.
“Oh, hell,” Nate said.
Omar opened his eyes, and then backed away. Nate was looking at Omar like he was dinner. “You’re a deer.”
Oh boy.
Omar took off, running for his life as Nate chased him down. This was not the help he needed. He had become prey to Nate’s werewolf. He opened his mouth to shout for help, but the only sound that came out was something that sounded like a wheeze. To Omar’s ears, the sound was a cross between a baby cry and a toy kazoo.
He was in big trouble.
His heart was thundering in his chest as he raced between houses, trying his best to outrun Nate. The man had shifted into his werewolf form and was gaining on Omar. Doubling back around, Omar made it to the house and began to bang his head into the front door.
If someone didn’t answer soon, he was going to be Nate’s dinner.
Sasha opened the door and Omar’s heart nearly gave out. The leopard’s eyes began to glow. Omar swiftly ran by the man and up the stairs, stumbling a few times. He wasn’t used to this form.
Once he reached the bedroom door he knew Freedman and Salvador were behind, he rammed his head into the door over and over again. Surprisingly, the door didn’t give, but he heard a low growl behind him.
Oh shit! Sasha had shifted into his leopard form and Nate—still in his werewolf form—was coming up the steps.
Freedman answered the door and Omar raced inside.
“Omar?” Freedman asked.
He ran in circles, trying his best to tell Freedman to close the door, but that weird noise was the only thing coming out.
Nate and Sasha appeared at the door, their eyes zeroing in on Omar.
Salvador hissed as he flew in front of Omar. “Come near him and I will turn you into guinea pigs.”
“You can do that?” Freedman asked.
Omar didn’t care. He just wanted the two predators to leave him the hell alone. He concentrated on his human form and then shifted. “Slam the door!”
Freedman slammed the door in Sasha and Nate’s face. “You were a deer, Omar.”
“So glad you noticed,” Omar said as he stood there shivering from fear. He ran his hands up and down his arms, praying the deer scent hurried up and dissipated. He could still scent the two outside the door.
“How?” Freedman asked. “Was it like when you turned into a cougar?”
Omar crawled onto the bed and pulled the covers over his head. This couldn’t be happening to him. He was a fucking werewolf, not a cougar, and most certainly not a deer. If he wasn’t terrified of being held prisoner again, he would go back to the detention center and beat the snot out of Dr. Formente. The man had turned him into a freak. Was that the man’s intention? He had gotten the feeling the doctor was trying to take away his lycanthropy werewolf gene, not add to it. Just how many animals did he have inside of him?
The bed dipped. “You okay?” Freedman asked.
As Omar’s nerves settled, the image of Freedman opening the door played in his mind. The man had kiss-swollen lips. The damn human and Salvador had been at it again. How could Freedman let the vampire anywhere near him? The guy drank blood for crying out loud. “No.”
Freedman tugged at the blanket, but Omar held fast to it. “Go away.”
The man didn’t go away. “Talk to me, Omar. What happened?”
“I turned into a fucking deer, Freedman. What do you think happened?” he shouted from under the blanket. “Just…go away.”
“If you think turning into a deer is bad, try being human.”
Omar lowered the blanket. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
The side of Freedman’s mouth twitched. If the man smiled, Omar was going to deck him. “It wasn’t supposed to make you feel worse.”
Omar glanced up at Salvador, who had moved closer to the bed, and he saw the humor in the man’s dark eyes. He threw the blanket over his head. “Go away.”
He curled the blankets in his fingers when he felt the bed dip once more. Salvador’s scent became stronger. “Go away,” he repeated once more.
“Not until you tell us why a werewolf and leopard were chasing you,” Freedman said.
Omar lowered the blanket, giving Freedman a look that said he was dense. “Maybe because I became prey.”
“Shall I kill the two for trying to turn you into a meal?” Salvador asked.
Omar threw the covers over his head once more. “Just go away.”
It hadn’t slipped his mind that he was naked, and two very dominant males were sitting on either side of him. He also didn’t like how his body was reacting to them. He shouldn’t be aroused. He should be steaming mad at what just happened.
“Get the fuck out here, Salvador!” Rick shouted from the other side of the door, “and explain to me what you did to my mate!”
Omar eased the blanket down, staring at the door. Just what in the hell was going on in this loony bin?
Vice Admiral Harrington hurried toward his car, his briefcase grasped tightly in his hand. He had stumbled across something so damn colossal that he feared for his life.
Enrique Marcelo was Captain O’Hanlon’s bastard son—his animal son. Worse, Harrington had discovered that O’Hanlon had fail-safes in place just in case this plan of theirs blew up in their faces.
The man had been working behind Harrington’s and Admiral James’s backs this entire time. Harrington planned on exposing the captain, making damn sure O’Hanlon took the fall for this entire war.
As he stepped out into the street, Harrington heard the screech of tires and knew it was too late to move out of the way as the large truck came barreling toward him.
The driver quickly jumped out of the truck, raced toward the dead man in the street, and grabbed the briefcase. Glancing around, he hurried back inside his truck and took off.
Chapter Twelve
Salvador inwardly groaned. He knew why Enrique was here. He just didn’t want to hear it. When Freedman got off the bed to go answer the door, Salvador was tempted to tell his mate not to.
Again, he did not want to hear what Enrique had to say.
Freedman opened the door and Enrique stormed in, pointing a finger at Salvador. “You knew, didn’t you?”
Salvador rose from the bed, strangling the urge to mentally shove the man from the room and slam the door in his face. He usually punished anyone who talked to him in his manner, but it seemed everyone around him had one mode. Angry.
“Would you have let me save his life if you knew?” Salvador posed the question. He was beginning to see that Americans had a very short temper. So did Salvador, and Enrique was about to find out if he didn’t tone his rage down a notch.
Enrique’s lips thinned to the point they almost disappeared. “I would have done whatever I had to in order to save his life and you know it. But you could have warned me. You could have told me everything!”
“What didn’t you tell him?” Freedman asked as he glanced between the two and then settled his eyes on Salvador.
Salvador shrugged. “That his mate’s life is now tied to his heartbeat, and vice versa.
Freedman cursed. “Just like Edward and Isabelle.”
“And?” Enrique growled. “You left out something else, bloodsucker.”
Salvador flew into Enrique’s space, hissing loudly. “Do not insult me again!”
“What else?” Freedman asked and then his lips slightly parted, his eyes growing round. “Dorian needs to feed from Rick.”
Enrique’s large hands curled at his sides. “That information would have been helpful when Dorian attacked me.”
“He attacked you?” Omar asked from under the blanket. “Really?”
Enrique glanced at the bed, which sent Salvador’s already simmering anger through the roof. His mate was naked under that blanket, and he didn’t like anyone near the man when he was in that state.
If he had it his way, he would take Freedman and Omar and go home to Brazil. But he had Kraven to deal with. “So feed him.”
“First you kidnap him from me, and then—”
“I borrowed him,” Salvador said as he cut Enrique off.
“If you weren’t Freedman and Omar’s mate, I’d kill you,” Enrique said, his voice low and filled with deadly intent.
Salvador leaned closer. “You could try, boy.”
The two large men in the hallway grabbed the werewolf alpha, pulling him back as Enrique tried to come after Salvador. “If you ever call me boy again, I’ll slice your fucking throat and feed you to the buzzards!”
Salvador’s mind flooded with memories he did not want to reminisce upon. “Again, you could try.”
“Nate, Sasha, get Rick out of here.” Freedman turned toward Salvador. “Ease up,” he said as he put his hands on Salvador’s chest and moved him back. “His mate almost died, and he has been through a shitload since this war started. Cut him some damn slack.”
Salvador gave Freedman a slight nod. For his mate, he would back down…this time. Enrique may have been through a shitload since the war started, but it was nothing compared to what Salvador had endured over the course of his lifetime. He had sworn to himself that no one was going to disrespect him again.
Not even a distraught changeling.
He had been held captive and tortured for over five hundred years by werehyenas. His entire back, thighs, and calves were disfigured from humans who had managed to capture him when he was in his youth. He had been starved to the point of nearly dying only three hundred years ago, and the list went on and on.
Enrique had only been fighting for over a year.
Although Salvador felt for the man and his pain of nearly losing his mate, he refused to allow anyone to speak to him like he was below them. He had fought his way through life, sometimes killing to stop himself from being killed. He would be damned if anyone thought they had the upper hand with him.
Enrique gave Salvador one last scathing glare before pivoting and heading out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Salvador turned, heading back toward the bed, and then taking a seat on the mattress. He was weary, and all he wanted to do was find solace in his mates, but he knew they wouldn’t welcome him.
It was true he had searched for them his entire existence. But now that he had found them, he was not being comforted as he should be. When he was held captive, Salvador would lie in his prison, wondering what his mate would look like and how he would feel in Salvador’s arms. It had kept him sane over the centuries.
To find out he had two mates was shocking, but welcome. If only they would welcome him.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Omar asked.
“Because, pequeno guerreiro,” Salvador began, “he was appalled when he thought the human was going to be a vampire.” And it had hurt. Salvador knew his species was feared more than the changelings. He loved who he was and was proud to be a vampire. But the conversion of his kind and their disregard for life had turned everyone’s opinion sour when it came to vampires. Now they were a loathed race of beings.
If it was up to him, no other human would become a vampire and the ones converted would be destroyed. They knew nothing of honor or what it meant to be such a special being. They hunted, killed, and made addicts out of their victims. That alone appalled Salvador. To see humans turn into mindless junkies ate at his very soul.
Freedman sat down next to him, placing his hand on Salvador’s leg. He could feel the heat soak into his scarred thigh, and Salvador had an urge to curl into Freedman’s side. “Just go easy on him.”
“Salvador doesn’t know anything about suffering,” Omar stated, his voice clipped.
Salvador turned, glancing down at the blond-haired man. “Know what you are speaking of before you part your lips.” Salvador opened the bridge between his mind and Omar’s, showing him only a sliver of what he had been through. He also opened Freedman’s mind as well. If he showed them everything, the two would go mad. Salvador had no doubt whatsoever, so he gave them a mere glimpse into his past. He showed them of the time when he was a youth and was attacked by humans, leaving him nearly dead, his body so savaged that the attack left everlasting scars.
Omar cringed, staring at Salvador in horror. His light-blue eyes filled with fear and untold anguish. “Oh my god,” Omar whispered.
“Holy fuck,” Freedman said under his breath.
Salvador closed the bridge and then moved over the bed, lying down. “If you do not wish me dead, ple
ase make sure the sun does not penetrate this room.” Because he was tired as hell and needed to close his eyes for a few moments. Using his energy in his fit of rage to make things in the room move had drained him. That was the problem with getting older. His powers grew stronger as he aged, but he was drained faster when he used them.
Freedman nodded. “No problem,” he said, audibly swallowing.
Salvador closed his eyes, letting out a weary breath. He needed to feed, but knew neither man would allow him. He wasn’t in any danger, at the moment, of falling into a coma from his weakened state, so rest would suffice.
Freedman stood by the bed and stared down at the two men as they slept. He had been attracted to Omar since first laying eyes on him. And since seeing the pain and suffering Salvador had gone through, his opinion of the vampire had changed, drastically.
Walking over to the window, Freedman closed the heavy drapes. He knew they would be leaving soon to go to Sellers’s labs. Salvador would have to wait until dark before he could join them.
Freedman didn’t want to leave the vampire here when they left, but he knew Salvador couldn’t ride with them in broad daylight.
Turning away from the window, Freedman saw that Salvador wasn’t asleep. He was lying there watching him. “You should rest,” Freedman said softly, not wanting to wake Omar.
He knew there were depths to the vampire that he didn’t know yet. The same held true for Omar. He was determined to get to know them both. Even though Omar had posed logical questions about the three of them being mates, he knew the truth.
He felt their connection.
He knew a dangerous man when he saw one, and there was no disputing the fact that Salvador was one very dangerous man. But Freedman knew the guy wouldn’t hurt him or Omar. He sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and allow either of them to treat him like a door mat, though. The vampire had proven that fact when the entire room had begun to move around earlier. But hurting them wasn’t something the man would do.
Walking over to the bed, Freedman sat down. He and Salvador locked eyes, and a raw need began to tighten in his groin.
