by Mason Sabre
“For what?”
“I’m going back to the mill.” He stepped towards the back door again, pushing Stephen backwards. “Give me the keys. I need to go and look for her.”
“We’ll all go,” Stephen said, jaw set.
“All? They aren’t going to look for her. They sit inside on their backsides talking. That isn’t looking.” Cade’s voice pitched with urgency as he spoke.
Stephen got it. He really did. He wanted to find Gemma and Phoenix and those Humans as much as Cade did … but they had to calm down.
“We’ll find her.”
They both turned to the sound of soft footsteps on the kitchen tiles behind them.
Emily.
Her eyes were red, and it was obvious she had been crying. That was the thing with Emily, maybe what Cade admired about her the most—every ounce of her oozed housewife, but anyone who knew her saw that she was more than that. She was mother to the alpha’s cubs. You didn’t birth children like Stephen and raise him to become soft. Far from it. But Cade didn’t think about that as she came out to him. Today, she looked like a mother whose child was missing. She wrapped her arms arounds his neck once more, and he returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair as his arms encircled her slender waist, taking a selfish moment of comfort and relishing in the scent that was so similar to Gemma’s.
“I want to go back to the mill,” he said gently. “It’s the only lead we have and we can search it properly. Who knows what we missed.”
She kissed his cheek before whispering, “You find my baby girl.”
He nodded solemnly and slowly released her. With determination hardening his features, he turned back to Stephen. “We need to go back.”
The kitchen began to fill with sound as the meeting was adjourned and the Society members started to file out. Fury bubbled in Cade’s chest as he watched them. How could they act so complacent, chatting and leisurely strolling out of the room, when his life was hanging in the balance like this? If anything happened to Gemma or Phoenix, he didn’t even know what he would do.
“Cade thinks you should all start at the mill.” Stephen’s expression was hard as he stared at his father, who had come out onto the porch. Like Cade, he did not agree with sitting around and having meetings when his little sister’s life was at stake.
“We might have missed something,” Cade added.
“Not doing your job properly?” Trevor asked with derision, appearing from behind Malcolm.
Emily’s hand squeezed his a little tighter, and Cade was thankful for that moment of contact and touch, but it wasn’t enough to calm the rage of his wolf who just wanted to find his mate. Nothing would stand between him and Gemma, not even his alpha.
“We will all go to the mill,” Malcolm said and turned to Trevor. “You and Aaron come as well. We can use your noses.” He glanced at Angela. “You too. The rest of you can search the area. We will not stop until we have found my daughter.” He turned to Stephen. “You get the witch and the panther. They come, too.”
Twenty minutes later—and it was a long fucking twenty minutes, too—they were at the mill and in the basement. Everything was gone. If Cade hadn't been there himself, if Gemma’s scent wasn’t alive in the air, he would have thought that he had got the location wrong. He breathed in deeply, taking in Gemma’s unique scent, his wolf roaring inside of him. If he closed his eyes, she was right there next to him.
“They had stuff set up here—computers, a workbench.” He gritted his teeth. “They had silver.”
Malcolm’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Cade pointed to the second cage. “Gemma was in there. I was in this one.”
The cages were down below in what looked like a basement. It was below water level, which explained why it was so damp and humid. The water on the outside created perfect soundproofing for any noise from the inside. The place reeked of Humans—every surface, every crevice, their stench thick in the air, infesting the place.
Cade tried to engage his DSA brain so that it would disconnect long enough from Gemma and Phoenix to actually find them—it didn’t work. The teachings of Harvey echoed in his mind and he found his focus, but as soon as his guard dropped, an image of Gemma resurfaced and he would lose himself again. The others were searching the rooms above. The mill had three floors, but they were mostly filled with dusty boxes and piles of junk, old machinery for the mill, and an old rotten wooden table. The remnants of the chair Cade had smashed were where he had left them. Malcolm stood in the doorway taking in everything. When Stephen came down the cracked stone steps with papers in his hand, he turned to face him.
“I found these.”
Malcolm pulled his glasses from his top pocket, flicked them open and pushed them onto his face before taking the papers to read. They were double bound and wound tight—clean, freshly printed, the white paper a stark contrast to the dilapidated building. “Purchase papers?”
Stephen nodded. “Found them in the room upstairs. There are loads of boxes up there. Norton shit.”
Malcolm peered over the top of his glasses. “Norton?”
“Yep. Found them at Patterson’s house, too. Empty, though, except for those papers.”
Cade itched to look at them, but Malcolm gripped them tightly, the paper crinkling in his grasp as he exited the mill and went outside to where the others were searching the grounds. “You knew this place?” he asked Anika, who was standing with Raven and Angela. “You were here when my daughter was?”
Anika looked up at the mill. “No, I've never been here before. They made me stay at the house. But I knew it was here. They bought it about a month ago.”
“No,” Malcolm said. “You bought it a month ago.”
Anika’s eyes widened with shock and her back stiffened. “What?” She reached for the papers, but Malcolm pulled them back. “No, I didn’t. I …”
“It’s fine.” Stephen took the papers from his father. “This has been set up.” He flicked to the page with her name on it and showed her without giving it to her. “Do you still believe that they sent you out because they believed you could get rid of me?” At her despondent look, he continued, “They sent you out so that I would end you—deal with their problem and have you cop for all of this.”
She shook her head, her long blonde hair shimmering in the sun as she did, making her seem younger and more fragile than she was. “They wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t they?” Cade took the papers from Stephen and inspected them himself, then looked up at Anika with barely-contained anger. “Where are they now?” He waved the papers at her. “This is what happens with Humans. You work for them and they fuck you over and take what they want.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean …”
Cade stepped forward, but Stephen slapped a hand against his chest, and Raven pulled Anika next to him. “This isn’t helping,” he said to Cade. “I want her back as much as you do, but you’ve got to get your shit under control. There is nothing here … and your father is around. You need to make sure he doesn’t realise anything. He’s not a stupid man. You losing it will make him suspicious, and it won’t be long before he connects the pieces.”
“I don’t fucking care,” Cade spat just as Trevor came from around the boat house with a tall, magnificent wolf behind him—Aaron. Thick, black fur that matched his hair colour covered him, eyes as blue as Cade’s staring back at them.
“What don’t you care about?” he enquired with raised eyebrows.
Cade clamped his jaw shut and stared at him with hatred.
“He’s just a half-breed,” Trevor drawled. “You really did get attached, didn’t you?”
Not bothering to respond to his jibe, Cade turned to Stephen. “Anika must know something, even if she doesn’t know she does.” He turned to his father. “Did you find the girl in the boat house? With your fully pure pet there? There's a dead girl just under the jetty.”
Trevor’s face flushed with anger.
“Have you tried to contact Phoenix?” Malcolm cut off the argument that was about to start.
“There is nothing there when I try,” Cade ground out, his frustration at not being able to connect with the boy overwhelming.
Trevor gave a smug laugh. “You mean, like he might be dead?”
Cade lunged, and Stephen jumped in front of him, holding him back. Malcolm took a step between them and fixed Trevor with a hard look. “I’m trying to find my daughter, MacDonald, not start rows.”
Cade leaned around Stephen. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He pointed at his father. “If Phoenix is dead, then you can shove your fucking deal with the Castle’s up your arse.”
Trevor’s face darkened once more, the union between the two families something he had sought for years.
“Come on,” Stephen urged, pushing against Cade’s chest and walking him backwards. “You two can fight your shit later, but right now, we need to find Gemma and Phoenix. He pushed Cade into the mill and away from everyone. “Try again. Try to reach Phoenix.”
“I’ve tried,” he gritted out. “Do you think I didn’t think about that?”
“Try again,” Stephen insisted. “What harm can it do?”
Cade didn’t want to try again. He wanted to go back outside and smash his father’s arrogant face in. He wanted someone to pay for all of this, and Patterson wasn’t there, so Trevor would have to do.
“Try,” Stephen urged.
“Fuck.” Cade took a calming breath before muttering, “Fine.” He closed his eyes with a curse, taking himself to the white room where they met in their minds—a safe place, neutral.
He was there …
Cade’s heart leapt at the sight and he fought not to let his eyes snap open and break the link. “Phoenix,” he called in his mind, walking and then running to him. “Phoenix.” He sank down to his knees next to the wolf, but there was no response from the young wolf. Cade slid his hand under the wolf’s snout and tilted his head back. The fur was sticky and wet, and when Cade brought his hand away, it was red.
Blood.
The sight of it fuelled Cade’s anger even more. “Phoenix, answer me.”
Blood pooled beneath the wolf, staining the white room crimson. Cade stumbled back, his mind losing it. His eyes snapped opened, severing the link between them.
Phoenix hadn’t been breathing.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The stench of blood was so thick in the air that Gemma drank it in with every breath that she took. Phoenix’s head rested in her lap, the warmth of it comforting her as she stroked his hair, pushing it away from his face. Maybe it was more soothing for her than it was for him. She avoided his thick red wounds, her hand hovering just above them. She tore a piece of fabric from her blouse and tried to mop up the blood, touching only where she wouldn’t hurt him more than the healing was already doing.
As each wound knitted together from the inside out, blood spurted out occasionally and ran down his side, pooling beneath them both. The sight of it tore Gemma up inside, and she had to stop to catch her breath. Phoenix slowly reached a hand up for hers, gasping through the pain of the action. Gemma laced her fingers through his and pressed her cheek against his cool hand.
“I’m right here,” she whispered to him. God, he smelt so much like Cade now. Her heart hurt from the absence of him, a longing deep within her chest. She pressed her mouth to Phoenix’s knuckles and breathed him in deeply. He was a mix of Cade and his maker, a scent that made him unique, a beacon that called to her tiger and begged her to come home. God, she would if she could.
She leaned back against the bars, pressing hard against the cold metal. The minutes ground her down. Patterson and his buddies had vanished somewhere—not that she cared. She wished they would all just drop dead.
She let her eyes close and held Phoenix’s hand. He coughed, wincing from the effort, and Gemma leaned forward again. More blood oozed from his wound, but it was less this time. He healed so amazingly fast, but the pain was evident on his features. Gemma let go of his hand and cupped his face, looking down at him, her face upside down to his. “I’m right here,” she reassured him again. His chest was marred with so many wounds that it was hard to decide where one ended and the next one started, the flesh underneath swollen and red.
The small girl had regained consciousness and sat trembling in the corner of the cage, her body turned away from them. Gemma glanced at her once or twice—she couldn’t help it. Defiance pulsed through Gemma’s veins as she refused to go over to her to comfort her. To comfort her would give the Humans what they wanted—it would make her lay claim to the child and that she was, in fact, her progeny. Gemma wanted nothing to do with it, even if it meant leaving a child to die in the corner …
The thought crashed into her mind several times. That was what she was doing, wasn’t it? Leaving a six-year-old to die in the corner.
But she couldn’t be part of this.
Suddenly aware of the life inside her, Gemma bit down on her lip. What if this had been her child? What if someone sat by and let it die in the corner of some damp and rotten cage like this. Phoenix’s breathing slowed—he was resting again, the pain alleviated somewhat. She smoothed his hair back once more and eased herself from under him, trying not to wake him.
After a moment’s hesitation, she slowly crawled along the floor towards the girl, stopping a couple of feet from the child. The girl’s clothes were wet with perspiration and she was shivering, yet Gemma knew it wasn’t from cold. Even from this distance, she could feel the heat emanating from her.
“What’s your name,” she said softly, trying not to startle her.
The girl peered at Gemma over her shoulder. Angry, accusing eyes stared at Gemma. How did she make the child understand that she had had no choice—but then what did it matter? The girl’s life was changed now, forever. She would be Other … if she made it that far.
“I’m sorry,” Gemma whispered, not that it made much difference. The girl might one day remember those words, maybe realise why Gemma had had to do it. Maybe she would die like most half-breeds—many didn’t make it past the first hour.
The room they were in was completely empty. The computer in the corner was off—even the weird-looking doctor had vanished. Was this why? To see if the girl would make it through the first hour? Were they such cowards that they didn’t want to witness the result of what they had caused? A small, red blinking light in the corner caught her eye. She frowned and looked closer—cameras, in every corner of the room. She resisted the urge to give them the finger.
She turned her attention back to the girl. “My name is Gemma,” she said, “and this is my friend, Phoenix. He is very hurt.”
The girl said nothing, just stared at Gemma. Did she even understand? She was probably a stray. Maybe she hadn't been taught to talk. Gemma bowed her head, the weight of everything so heavy in her mind. Just another minute, she told the girl in her head. Survive the next minute, and then the one after that. She sat back, her legs in front of her and sighed. The girl didn’t seem inclined to come to her, but at least Gemma could say she had tried.
“Sage.” Gemma’s head snapped up. It was said faintly, but she had heard it.
“Sage? That’s your name?”
The girl turned and leaned with her back to the wall, her mouth set in a straight line. She had tiny dimples in her little cheeks, making her look angelic. In the next minute, her eyes began to change, shimmering with emerald fire, flames dancing inside her eyes.
It was mesmerising.
She cradled her arm where Gemma had bitten her, the wound not having healed a bit—just like when Phoenix had been bitten. It was still bleeding, blood trickling out from under her small hand.
“Can I look at that?” Gemma asked, pointing to her arm. Sage stared at her for a long moment then gave a small nod of her head. Gemma smiled at her and slowly shuffled along the dusty floor towards her. She gently took hold of Sage’s arm and used the cleanest corner
of fabric she could find on her top to clean it. The girl was so dirty—she really was a stray, she realised. She had dark lines under her eyes, shadows that she was too young to have, and bones jutted out under the shape of her clothes. Did the Humans just go and pick these kids up off the streets?
Sage began to shake again, shivers wracking her small delicate frame. Her head fell back suddenly, smacking painfully against one of the bars. Gemma lunged for her and scooped her up in her arms.
“Sshhhh,” she soothed. Sage’s eyes rolled back into their sockets, leaving only whites to stare up at Gemma. She held her to her chest, rocking her, finding some strange kind of comfort as she held her there. Was this how Cade had felt with Phoenix? Was this why he would seemingly do anything for him? But then it wasn’t Cade who had made Phoenix, was it? Maybe this would be how he’d feel with his own child.
The shuddering began to ease until Sage stilled. Her eyes were closed and Gemma rested her face against the child’s chest, stifling the desperate sob in her throat. If she made it out of here, if she saw Cade again, she’d do anything to keep him and their baby. Was this punishment for thinking of killing their child? Was it karma whipping her like a bitch for almost breaking his heart? Lord knows she deserved it. She deserved every ounce of this. The craving inside her, the urge to have Cade with her, her very soul ached for him, but all she felt was the vast emptiness.
He was missing.
Sage suddenly jolted in Gemma’s arms, her arms shooting up and her legs going rigid as the mixings of the blood struck like lightning through her small body. The first shift ... Sage’s face twisted, seeming deformed as the bones in her nose moved and changed. Her cheekbones rose higher in her face, pushing her eye sockets up.
“Sage?” When the girl opened her eyes, they were slits of green and gold, so very tiger. Gemma’s own tiger rose to the surface, feeling the pull of the young cub next to her. Gemma pushed her back down—not now, not another shift so soon. Cade had done this with Phoenix. He’d helped him through his shifts … but that had created a bond. Gemma didn’t want to bond with this child. Despite it all, she closed her eyes and tried to find the small tiger in her mind, searching for her in the darkness. But all she found were the remnants of her memories, her longings, her own thoughts, and her tiger sitting there waiting for her.
