by Lynn Hagen
What he feared the most was the gentle signals his body was giving him. He was starting to see a pattern. When he was shifting into a predator, the transition was painful as hell. But when he had shifted into a deer, it was just uncomfortable.
He was about to change into prey.
“Freedman,” Omar said in a low tone. He wanted to warn his mate. To tell him they needed to get out of there. He would be of no help if he changed into something nonlethal.
“Shhh,” Freedman said. “I think I hear something.
Omar began to scratch his arms as he cleared his throat again. His body temperature was rising. He knew this because he was beginning to sweat profusely. His heart was beating so fast that Omar felt light-headed and dizzy.
Why in the hell was his heart beating so fast? What animal could he be changing into that had such a high heart rate?
Freedman grabbed his hand and then glanced back at him, his face alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“S–Shift.”
“Not now, Omar. Please, not now.”
It wasn’t like he had planned this. It was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Hold strong, meu destino. You can make it. Just concentrate on the lab at the end of the hall. Get inside there and finish your shift.”
Freedman grabbed Omar, tossing him over the strong man’s shoulders as his mate hurried to the closest room. It wasn’t the lab at the end of the hall, but Omar was past caring right now. He needed air. He was thirsty as hell. And he was burning up.
“Come on, baby. I need you with me here.” Freedman cleared a table off with one swoop of his arm and laid Omar down. He pressed his hand to Omar’s head. “Go ahead and shift.”
“N–No.”
“There isn’t much we can do about it now. We’re fucked. So shift, baby, and then we’ll figure a way out of this.” Freedman leaned closer. “You know as well as I do that this is a setup. We need to abort this damn mission and haul ass, but I need you on your feet.”
Omar stopped fighting and let the shift take over. It wasn’t a painful transition, but everything in the room seemed to grow as he shrunk.
He was getting smaller.
Way smaller.
“Oh,” Freedman said as he stared at Omar, his brown brows high on his forward as his lips rounded. “You’re a…a bunny.”
Omar was ready to pass out. A fucking bunny? Thank the stars Nate—or any other predatory changeling—wasn’t here right now.
“Okay, no big deal.” Freedman scooped Omar up from the table, but Omar could hear the freaked-out tone the man was trying to hide. “This might work to our advantage.”
No big deal?
He fought Freedman when the man tried to stuff Omar in his backpack. He wasn’t a cute little fucking bunny. He was a damn werewolf changeling!
“For now, you are a bunny. Stop fighting him and get out of there. We will work on the problem once you are free.”
Omar settled down, but he was fuming mad. They needed to find a cure for him. He was sick and tired of shifting into other breeds. This was worse than the deer! When Freedman swung the bag onto his back, Omar felt like he was going to be sick from the motion.
“Just stay hidden and we’ll get the hell out of here. I’ll call Rick once we’ve cleared the building.”
Omar was grateful that Freedman didn’t zip the bag. It was bad enough he had to ride inside of it, but he didn’t want to feel caged. He had had enough of that from his capture. Omar never wanted to be trapped anywhere again.
“Hold it right there.”
Freedman stopped walking, and Omar damn near passed out. There were caught. This was it. He was going to die a bunny. How freaking dishonorable was that?
“Where’s the smaller man who was with you?”
The backpack raised and lowered as Freedman shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Do not move a hair.”
Omar wasn’t sure if Salvador was truly trying to protect him or make fun of him. Whatever the case was, Omar stayed still, trying to not even breathe. But it was hard considering his bunny form’s heart rate was off the charts.
“I want you to walk to that lab down the hall. If you try anything, I swear to god I will shoot you.”
Freedman began to move.
Omar began to pray.
He knew this had been a setup, but he was too concerned with freeing the changelings. Why was it every time he was helpful, he got into trouble? That seemed to be the strange pattern lately. If he was a negative man, he would start telling everyone to go to hell when they wanted him to help.
The sound of a door opening and then closing could be heard, and then Omar smelled werewolf changeling again. It was driving him crazy that he couldn’t place that familiar scent. He was so tempted to look that he had to force himself to stay in the bottom of the bag.
“There is a shifter scent with him. Check the bag.” This voice wasn’t the one he had heard in the hallway. This once belonged to the traitor.
Omar fought against the hand trying to pull him from the bag.
“Leave him the hell alone!” Freedman shouted.
“Fight me and I’ll shoot you,” the voice from the hallway said.
Omar wiggled as much as he could, but the hand seized him and began to pull him free. He wanted to bite the bastard, but he feared the human would throw him against a wall or something more lethal. He needed his wits about him, so he kept his mouth closed.
“He’s got a bunny in his backpack,” the human said as he pulled Omar free of the bag.
“That’s not an ordinary bunny, Dr. Oswego. He’s a shifter.”
Omar turned toward the nagging scent and would have gasped if he wasn’t a bunny.
Standing before him was Rick’s supposed-to-be-dead nephew.
Alexander Marcelo.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Salvador cursed when he not only read Omar’s thoughts, but felt both of his mates’ fear. He exited the garage, walking toward the lab. He was not going to break his promise, but Salvador was not going to stand by and allow his mates to be captured either.
Searching out Enrique’s mind, Salvador pushed into it, giving the alpha the images he had seen through Omar’s eyes. He felt the werewolf stagger, a no falling from his lips. Salvador gave the man the location where Freedman and Omar were being held, and then pulled from Enrique’s mind.
As Salvador had stood in the garage, he had come to a realization that—ever since his tortures of so long ago—he had been treating everyone, including his mates, like servants. He had guarded his feelings, refusing to allow anyone to speak to him as if he were nothing but a worthless man.
But Freedman and Omar weren’t like that. He knew in his heart they meant him no harm. He was going to have to learn to stop taking everyone in a negative manner or lose the two men who meant the world to him.
Salvador stopped, moving quickly into the shadows when he saw a car with tinted windows pull up in front of the lab. Men dressed in black fatigues climbed from the car, and then a man in a business suit exited last.
Immediately Salvador thought of Enrique when he stared at the human in the suit. There was no way the two were not related. The man had a mixture of black and grey hair, an image of what Enrique would look like when he had passed his prime. He was quite handsome in his dark suit and baby-blue dress shirt, but the human’s light-grey eyes were cold and soulless, the total opposite of Enrique’s.
“I want this place locked down,” the human in the suit said to the men in black gear. “No one gets out of here. If you find a nonhuman, kill him.”
The team stormed toward the door, the air all around them silent. They made no noise as they entered the building and disappeared. The human who looked like Enrique smoothed his hand over his hair and then opened the glass door, walking inside.
Salvador mentally summoned his coven. “Protect my mates and the Rebellion group.”
Once the order was given, Salvador used his speed—which was not breaking
his promise—to enter the building unnoticed.
He wasn’t at full strength, but that wasn’t going to stop him. His mates’ lives were in danger, and he wasn’t going to sit by and do nothing. Smoothing his hand down his own dark suit, Salvador walked through the lobby and past the bank of elevators. He turned left, heading toward his mates.
Two of his coven members appeared at his side. “My Lord, your mates are going to be displeased when they see you here.”
Instead of telling the vampire to mind his place, Salvador nodded instead. “They are going to make me sleep in a doghouse.”
The vampire stared at him as if Salvador had lost his mind. “I do not understand.”
Salvador reached over and patted the man on the shoulder. “You will when you find your mate and fuck up.”
The three stopped when one of the men in black fatigues rounded the corner, his rifle aimed directly at Salvador’s midsection.
“Human or nonhuman?” the soldier asked.
“How about portador da morte?”
“What does that mean?” the human asked, his fingers visibly tightening on his weapon.
The vampire next to Salvador gave a deep chuckle, his fangs gleaming from the overhead light. “Bringer of death.” The two vampires were on the human before he could get a single shot off. Salvador stood there and watched, growing hungry as the scent of blood filled the air.
“Drink, My Lord.” The two stepped aside and Salvador could see the man was dead, but not drained. He didn’t hesitate. Salvador took what he needed. The only way he was going to fully recover was from feeding.
Once the human was drained, they moved the body into the room closest to them, hiding it from the other humans. There was no need to let anyone know vampires were involved here. Keeping them in the dark was their best option in defeating them.
Salvador continued to watch through his mates’ eyes, making sure no harm came to them. If it looked like they were in mortal danger, Salvador would have no choice but to use his powers.
He was really trying not to break his promise, but there were some things a man would not stand by and watch happen. His mates’ deaths were one of those things.
“Are you not supposed to be up front watching the place?” Salvador asked Miguel when he spotted the werewolf searching the rooms.
“Yeah, but I saw the military men come in with a guy in a business suit. I’m not about to wait up front when some shit is going down.” The man closed the door of the room he had been looking in. “My first and foremost job is to keep my alpha and his mate safe. I can’t do that if I’m watching the streets.”
Salvador didn’t argue with the young man. He didn’t stop Miguel from joining him either. He knew what loyalty was and admired it in the fierce werewolf.
He just wondered how Enrique was going to handle the realization that his nephew wasn’t really dead.
Rick was standing there looking at a ghost.
“Well, hello, Uncle Rick.”
“You’re–You’re dead.” He had seen the pictures of his nephew being killed. It was reported in the paper that one of the bodies belonged to Alexander Marcelo. Rick and Dorian were being accused of the crime. “How can this be?”
Through the entire war, Rick had been surprised over and over again with the betrayals, lies, and deception, but nothing could have prepared him for this. All kinds of scenarios played in his head from Alexander being brainwashed to the young werewolf being held against his will, but deep down in the core of his being, Rick knew the truth.
Alexander was a traitor.
His death had been a setup.
Oh god, he was going to be sick.
Alexander gazed fixedly at Rick, his cold blue eyes filled with anger and hatred. “I was approached before this war started about helping the humans. They cut me a deal. If I helped them on the science end of things, they would find a cure and I would no longer be a diseased human being. I could get rid of the lycanthropy that runs rampant through my veins and live a normal life. You know I was majoring in bioengineering in college. This was the perfect opportunity for me.” So matter-of-fact. So scientific. There was no regret in his nephew’s tone, no sorrow that things had turned out this way. Just a statement of how things unfolded.
Rick remembered the pictures Nate had shown him of Alexander being shot. The images were burned into his memory. It had all looked so real. Alexander had looked resigned and so damn scared.
But it was all an act.
Alexander despised Rick. He could feel the anger seething in the young man’s blood. How had he not known his nephew had felt this way, that he hated his heritage so much that he would betray it?
Alexander raised his chin and spoke directly to Rick. “I wanted to repair the mutated gene in the human body. I used a virus as my choice of delivery systems. Nothing works better than a virus. What we’ve been trying to do is target the cells carrying the lycanthropic disease. It’s been a nightmare trying to get the virus where I want it to go, but I’ve had help along the way.” His nephew gazed at Dr. Oswego and then his head turned toward a small bunny.
Was that Omar?
Oh, hell.
“We were close to a cure, but you had to go and rescue our test subjects. There are now hundreds of changelings out there with the ability to shift into multiple breeds. I was not able to finish my research because of your heroic attempts.” Alexander’s hand slammed down on the table in front of him. “But you will not take the test subjects from this lab!”
Rick stared at his nephew, unable to connect the boy he knew to the man standing in front of him. This traitor was a total stranger to him. This was not his little Alexander. He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything toward him. Isabelle was, and would remain, his only living relative—aside from her newborn babe.
But that didn’t stop the mourning his heart was experiencing. He had loved Alexander with all his heart. His nephew had been a bright spot in Rick’s life until he was killed. No, he wasn’t killed. The man was standing right before him, hating who he was and trying to wipe out the changeling DNA.
But as much as Rick tried to imagine killing the man and ending his madness, he couldn’t. It was still Alexander. He was still Rick’s nephew. Outward, Rick held his composure, glaring at Alexander with hatred.
Inside, Rick was falling apart.
He knew he had to burn this place to the ground, but he also knew he couldn’t be the one to end Alexander’s life.
It wasn’t going to be him.
And a small part of him would resent the person who did.
“You’re a little on the psycho side, aren’t you?” Freedman asked. “What is with you scientists and thinking you can fuck with what god has created?”
“God?” Alexander spat. “There is no god. There is only science. If there were truly a god, then the Omnipotent One would not have allowed such abominations to be created in the first place.”
“Don’t you remember the veil?” Rick asked, his tone lifeless and void of the love it should have held speaking to this man. “Don’t you remember the stories we grew up with? The stories that said we aren’t even from this realm?”
“Bedtime stories for young minds.” Alexander scoffed. “Tell me, Uncle Rick. Do you believe every fairy tale you hear?”
“No,” Rick replied. “But you know as well as I do that they aren’t fairy tales. My grandfather, your great uncle, witnessed the veil themselves.”
“Lies,” Alexander snarled. “For an alpha, and the leader of the Rebellion group, you should know the difference between fairy tales and truths. How have you managed to make it this far?”
Rick bristled at his nephew’s condescending tone. “I’ve managed to make it this far from the lives of damn good men and women, from people who are proud of their heritage and would fight and die to protect their cherished species.”
Alexander gave him a mocking stare. “What do you know about honor?”
Rick took an aggressive step forward, bu
mping and knocking the table next to him aside. “Until you have fought for something you believe in, until you can stand in front of the gravestones of men and women who have died to help you fight to keep their species alive, don’t you dare ask me about honor!” The words were grenades thrown into the hush of the room. Rick had to force the words out past the constriction in his throat. The very air around him was filled with aggression and violence. Rick knew the situation was becoming volatile. He was not going to stand here and let Alexander mock what his species was dying to protect.
A trickle of sweat ran down Rick’s temple. He knew what he had to do in that moment. It was just going to kill a part of him to do it.
But Alexander had to die and he had to be the one to kill him.
He waited for Alexander to say something, but the man just stood there with a defiant expression on his face.
So be it.
Rick shifted, throwing the table aside Alexander was standing behind. He backed his nephew into the counter, bringing his muzzle dangerously close to the man’s face. “You are the true abomination.”
“Rick!” Dorian shouted.
Rick grabbed Alexander by the throat and then turned, seeing the room fill with men dressed in black fatigues. One had Dorian in a tight grip, a gun pressed into his mate’s head. Freedman was being held at gunpoint as well.
The next to walk through the door was Salvador, Miguel, and Salvador’s vampires. Miguel aimed his gun at the man holding Dorian hostage.
The situation was a powder keg ready to explode. Everyone sang with tension, their weapons pulled and aimed at each other.
Salvador walked to the table where the bunny was sitting and scooped Omar up into his arms. “May I break my promise?” Salvador asked, turning toward Freedman.
“What promise?” Dr. Oswego asked, his eyes darting around the room. Rick could scent the man was a werecoyote. He had heard about him from Deluca and Brooke. Oswego had been the leading man experimenting on children.
