by Mason Sabre
Malcolm straightened. “Gemma is pregnant?”
Stephen shot to his feet, silently cursing. “We can explain,” he said quickly.
Malcolm’s nostrils flared and his glare landed on Cade. “Do you realise what you have done?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The man with the lopsided smile stood cautiously off to the side. If he could have smiled properly, his grin would have been huge, Phoenix thought to himself. All teeth and thin lips. Except when he did smile, only half of his face lifted properly, exposing one crooked yellow front tooth. His eyes shone with wild excitement at the discovery he had made in the car—he was positively bouncing from it. Elation radiated from him in such a way that it was intoxicating. He was a child who had just got what he had always wanted for Christmas.
He peered into the boot, his eyes roaming up and down Phoenix in glee. Another Human came to stand next to him, his glum face a stark contrast. Phoenix recognised him as one of the men from the car. Next to him, another Human stood pointing a gun at Phoenix. It was the guy with the jacket that eventually leaned in and grabbed Phoenix’s arm.
The strong odour of urine in the car burnt the inside of Phoenix’s nose, making him want to retch. Stephen had been right. Humans had a stench to them when they were afraid. It rolled off them, putrid and lingering. The Human in the jacket pushed Phoenix’s sleeve up and plunged a needle into his arm before he could react, depositing whatever liquid was in there into his veins.
Warmth spread, like a fiery flame under his skin. He grabbed his arm, pressing tightly in a futile attempt to stop it.
The three Humans took a step back together and some kind of trolley was wheeled closer, rattling against the concrete floor. Phoenix closed his eyes, bringing Stephen’s words to mind. If you can smell fear, you can use it. He’d drummed it into him like a mantra for these moments. A person, Human or Other, could hide facial expressions, they could cover their body language with forced effort, but there was no one that could ever mask the scent of fear. It just wasn’t possible.
If the Humans had been Other, they might have been able to detect the scent of Phoenix’s emotions. As it were, Phoenix had the advantage here.
Use it, he thought.
He pushed himself up slowly, swinging one leg out first. The Humans backed up as he climbed out and stepped down, throwing nervous glances at each other as they did so.
The space they were in looked like a large garage. There were no cars parked around and no white lines marking the floor giving directions, but there was a large shutter at the back with a barrier pole across the top, and a small doorway that was closed.
Phoenix moved again, slow, unhurried steps that had the Humans backing away. Maybe he could drive them all the way to the door and then make a run for it. He pushed his shoulders back, making his presence bigger than it was. Stephen had told him how to do it. No matter what, walk it tall. Don’t hide. Don’t back away and no one will have a clue that you’re shitting yourself with every move. So that was what he did—shoulders back, chest out and jaw clenched as he kept his eyes on the Humans. All he had to do now was not screw this up and get himself killed.
If he got them in the right place, he could charge. “Stop.” The Human pointed a shaky gun at him, then quickly swapped it to his other hand so that he could wipe his palm down his jeans. Would he even have the courage to shoot? It wasn’t him who was pathetic, it was the Humans—Stephen had every aspect of it right. He almost felt ashamed that he had once been one of them—blind and idiotic, weak and afraid.
“You need to let me go,” Phoenix said, throwing confidence into his voice and hoping he sounded more in control than he felt.
The Human with the lopsided smile raised his hands nervously. “Calm down,” he gulped. “We don’t mean you any harm.”
Phoenix moved quickly, rushing at the Human with the gun, his eyes on the gap between them.
A gunshot ricocheted around the room and pain exploded in Phoenix’s shoulder, the force of it flinging him backwards. He landed on the ground with a thud, his hands clutching at his shoulder as he went down. With a grunt, he rolled with it and was back on his feet as fast as he had gone down. Blood trickled down his arm, and his skin grew taut. He pushed back his collar to inspect the damage—the hole was small and growing smaller by the second. Something thick and black oozed out of it, running down his arm. It didn’t even mingle with his blood, oil and water rejecting each other … but it wasn’t oil.
“Silver doesn’t work on me,” Phoenix smiled at them derisively. He really did feel strong and confident suddenly. What could these Humans actually do to him?
“You gave him silver?” the Human with the lopsided smile asked his friend incredulously. “Are you an idiot?”
“He’s a shifter,” the Human said in defence.
“He’s a half-breed. Silver doesn’t work on him, for fuck’s sake.”
“Maybe this will work.”
Phoenix spun around in the direction of the female voice behind him. A tall, slim woman stood by a door, which probably led to the main building, with a disparaging smile on her face.
“Gemma …” Phoenix shot forward and the woman took a cautious step back and shook her head at him.
“Not so fast, half-breed.” She shoved Gemma forward, and Gemma almost tripped over her own feet. Her head hung down, but Phoenix could see her tired face. Dark circles ran around her eyes even though it had only been a day. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your friend now, would you?” she purred sweetly, and Phoenix clenched his fists at his sides.
If Cade or Stephen saw what they had done ... He had to think like them ... act like them. He couldn’t run now. They would never leave Gemma behind, and neither could he.
“You were at the car, too?” She had an odd scent to her, even from where she stood. Phoenix could smell it—coppery and rich. She was definitely Other.
“Did you think that poor idiot just had a haemorrhage by himself?”
Thoughts of Andy sneaked into Phoenix’s mind. No, of course he didn’t. He didn’t want to think about Andy at all or what he had seen. The woman flicked her hand in a circular motion, and the Human with the gun buckled over, clutching at his stomach. He screamed as she twisted her hand mid-air, holding nothing, but even from where she stood, the Human was affected by it.
“Stop it, Janie,” the other Human said.
The woman laughed as she brought her hand down again, and the Human started to cough and heave until he vomited onto the concrete floor in front of him. “Fucking nice one,” he said eventually, spitting out the last of what he had brought up. “You forget your place.”
She rolled her eyes. “It was just a tickle.” She pushed the half-sleeping Gemma ahead of her and Phoenix wondered whether this Janie was the only thing keeping Gemma upright at that moment. Phoenix’s wolf reeled in anger and frustration that he couldn’t go to her and help her. Gemma murmured something and tried to twist out of Janie’s grasp, but Janie dug her fingers in, making Gemma wince.
“Let her go,” Phoenix demanded.
The Human with the jacket came around then. “No can do, I’m afraid. We have our orders.”
“Where’s Cade?” Gemma asked hoarsely. She lifted her eyes to look at Phoenix, and just the sight of her made Phoenix’s chest tighten. She had a faded bruise on her face, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t recent. She was a shifter; it could have happened ten minutes ago.
“I don’t know,” Phoenix said gently.
“The wolf is dead,” the Human with the gun said as he holstered his weapon.
“No,” Gemma cried out. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it, honey,” Janie said. “He’s dead. Down with the fish now.”
Gemma had her eyes on Phoenix again, and despondency tore through him. He shook his head and touched his fingers to his temples, hoping that she would understand. If Cade was dead, he would know it. He would probably be dead himself. That was what he had been told
anyway—their bond was a two-way thing. If Cade died, he would die, too.
Gemma bit her lower lip and gave a slight nod.
She understood.
“You need to get onto the trolley,” the lopsided-mouthed man said. “We have work to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”
Phoenix frowned. “Why should I?”
Janie came closer, pushing Gemma as she did. “Because we said so.” She held her hand over Gemma’s abdomen, and Gemma grabbed it and tried to pull it away, but Janie reached around and grabbed Gemma’s wrist. Gemma’s eyes shifted, the pupils turning to ovals. “I don’t think so,” Janie said. She turned her attention to Phoenix, her features hard. “Get on the trolley.”
Gemma shook her head. “Don’t do it,” she rasped. She forced each word through whatever pain it was the woman was inflicting on her, doubling over and gasping for air while she fought to get the woman’s hand off her. Still, she pleaded with Phoenix. “Don’t …”
Janie narrowed her eyes and Gemma cried out with fresh pain. “How long do you think her baby can withstand this?”
“Fuck off,” Gemma cried through gritted teeth and pushed against the woman, flinging her arm back, elbow to the jaw. Janie’s head snapped back, but she didn’t let go—like a fucking leech.
“Trolley,” she glared at Phoenix, anger clear in her eyes now.
“Run, Phoenix,” Gemma shouted, but he couldn’t do that—wouldn’t do that. Stephen and Cade would never have left her. They’d have fought until Gemma was free. They’d sacrifice themselves for her without a second thought. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t like them and they would know it. With long strides, he walked towards Gemma and lopsided man hesitated, unsure what Phoenix’s intentions were. Phoenix stopped in front of the trolley, paused and looked at Gemma.
“I have to. I’m sorry.” He climbed onto it and she sobbed, reaching for him even with Janie holding her tightly. Phoenix tried to shut out the sounds, unable to bear the way they ripped his heart to pieces.
“Good choice,” Janie said to him. She gripped Gemma’s upper arm and dragged her over to a wheelchair by the wall. It had bindings all around and Gemma was thrust into it. Phoenix didn’t need to guess that they would be silver, but Gemma sat there with her lips firm, refusing to show them the pain she was feeling.
The lopsided smiler came to Phoenix’s side. “Glad you chose to join us,” he said as he began to fasten the straps around Phoenix. The urge to jump up and smack the stupid man and knock the smile off his face was almost too great for Phoenix, but he restrained himself. It would do him and Gemma no good.
The straps that went around Phoenix weren’t silver, but they were extra strong. When they had him secure, lopsided nodded to the Human with the gun and the trolley began to move.
Phoenix couldn’t see where he was going. They had placed a strap across his head so that he couldn’t move it. All he could see was the old, cracked ceiling above him, lines of black mould patched across it. Gemma was close to him; he could feel her. He listened to the sound of the heavy footsteps of the Human men. The lights changed suddenly, going from the dull lamps to large fluorescent lights that hummed above him. The trolley jerked to a stop when one of the Humans applied the brake.
Phoenix’s only sense was his hearing. There was a rattle of chains that came from either side of him, and above him, a chain hung from the ceiling. It ran through a sort of hook—a pulley mechanism. The chain started to come down, slowly, until it touched his chest, its heaviness pressing into him and the coldness of it seeping through his top.
“We won’t be a moment,” Janie said to him. He thought that they were unstrapping him as the buckles on the belts clanged, but his arms didn’t come free. If anything, they were pulled apart tighter.
“Lean him forward,” a male voice that Phoenix didn’t recognise said. The trolley began to rattle and jolt as machinery inside it began to work. Phoenix felt himself begin to rise and then he tipped forward. They had attached a hook to the strap around his throat, and it pulled tight as gravity began to win and he started to slide from the trolley. His arms began to rise on either side of him, not stopping until he was suspended upright, arms out, feet barely touching the ground.
The man who had spoken came forward. He was tall—taller than Stephen—and wore latex gloves. He wrapped a hand around the back of Phoenix’s neck and pulled his head forward. Phoenix felt the tip of a vibrating needle against the hard bit behind his ear, and he clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the pain.
The man held him in place and tattooed a number behind his ear.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Malcom sat in the large, leather chair at the end of the long table in the silent room, a formidable force to be reckoned with. Patterson was a fool, although ‘fool’ was perhaps too weak a description for him. How he even dared to dream that he would get away with this plan was beyond reasoning. He’d not be coming out of this alive, that was certain.
Malcolm clasped his hands together in front of him, elbows on the table, thumbs tucked under his chin. He was a man of fact, much like Cade. He dealt with reason and logic and a great amount of control that held no bounds. Even now, as he sat staring at the phone waiting for someone to pick it up on the other end, his rage stayed down, bubbling under the surface as his mind stayed fixed on the task at hand. Stephen had no idea how he did it. How he could sit there and not drive to the Human’s place and rip their fucking doors off. Stephen wasn’t sure if he admired or hated his father for it—this was Gemma they were talking about it. He seethed just thinking about it.
Cade fidgeted in his seat, eager for the phone to be answered on the other end. The room hummed with electricity–an electrical charge that stemmed from a tiger, wolf and panther, all of them hunkered down in the grass, lying in wait and ready to leap out.
Malcolm showed no anger, but it was there, almost palpable. No one in the room spoke as they watched the phone and waited. The phone beeped and, once again, the female voice on the other end answered and informed them that the call could not be taken at this time. It ended with a click and the dull dialling tone echoed around the room until Stephen couldn’t stand it any longer.
He reached over to shut it off. “Leave it,” his father commanded.
Stephen paused mid-reach and looked at him, a tick working along his jaw. Why were they not acting? What the hell did they still need all this diplomacy for? Patterson had fucking taken Gemma. “Call them again,” he gritted out. Right now, he wasn’t talking to the alpha of Others, he was talking to his father—his sister’s life was in danger.
Anger flashed in Malcolm’s eyes as they fixed on his son. He did not appreciate insubordination—less so from his son and future alpha. “I said leave it.” Before Stephen could say more, he reached for the phone panel and hit the button to end the call, then hit star-1—Trevor.
Cade inched forward uncomfortably, but Malcolm raised a hand before he could even voice his concern of his father being brought into this. He shot Stephen a concerned look, but Stephen’s expression reflected his own. If Trevor found out about the baby, they’d all be fucking killed—Gemma being number one, and Cade being last just so that Trevor could make sure he had learnt his lesson before losing his life. It would be a race between the two alphas to see who could get the execution order first. He frowned—but then why rescue Gemma? She was already being taken care of by the Humans.
As he always did, Trevor answered immediately. Cade was sure that his father sat on the damn phone.
“Call the board,” Malcolm said, not offering any kind of greeting. “We need them here right away. Patterson has taken my daughter.”
There was a brief pause before Trevor spoke. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” was Malcolm’s curt response. He shot a glance in Cade’s direction. “They had your son, too.”
Another pause. “Had?”
“Cade is here. He is fine, but we need Society here. Now. Every minute that gets wasted is another
minute Gemma doesn’t have. Call the board.” Malcolm hung up the call without waiting for a confirmation. Trevor would do it. He might be an asshole, but he was efficient. God knows he wouldn’t want anyone to see him as incapable if Malcolm finally fell off his perch.
Stephen leaned over to this father. This was so fucked up, all of it. “If Trevor finds out about the baby …” He would have a fucking field day. He could get rid of Phoenix, get rid of Gemma, and dig his hooks into Cade and command him like a puppy for the rest of his life. This really was as Cade had said—it was his life, literally.
Malcolm’s jaw clenched, the only indication he had heard him. With a muttered curse, Stephen leaned back in his chair and glared at him. Sometimes he wished his father could forget to be an alpha for at least one fucking minute.
Cade could barely stay in his seat. They were just sitting here waiting for a damn meeting to be arranged while Gemma was left at the mercy of the Humans. His wolf urged him to get out there and look for her, but his rational side told him that getting organised the way Malcolm was trying to was probably the right course of action. It was still hard to just sit there and wait, though.
Stephen glanced over at him, knowing exactly how Cade was feeling. There was no question in his mind that when Gemma got back—because there was no if about that—she and Cade had to leave. So much as it would hurt him for them to go, so much as he needed them there, he couldn’t see them killed for this.
“Trevor will not find out about the baby. No one will,” Malcolm said sternly. He turned to Raven and Anika with a harsh expression on his face. “Do you understand the consequences for yourselves if you mention this to anyone?”
Anika nodded in quick compliance, and Raven raised his hands. “It ain’t none of my business,” he said smoothly.
With a brusque nod, he turned back to Stephen. “You need to go and find Evie and your mother. Tell them what is going on before they walk in on a big meeting and panic. You can make our guests comfortable in the summer lounge. Get them something to eat and drink.” Code for Leave Cade and me alone.
