“You must leave.” A soft female voice drifted through her head. “You cannot hide from your destiny forever, Serra of the Mangas clan. You do not belong here.”
Before Serra could say that she didn’t want to go, she was flanked by two massive buffalo, one white as salt and the other as black as the dead of night. ‘But...” Then she found herself outside the mountain, not knowing what had happened or why she'd been expelled. Serra felt lost.
CHAPTER 3
Leaning back in the almost comfortable chair, Serra let her eyes wander around the office that was plush in comparison to any place she’d been lately. Flying under Pop’s radar meant staying in rat infested shit holes where he’d never think to look for her. Hell, a lady’s room at a decent hotel was plush when held up to the side by side against the rundown room at the YWCA she’d rented last week. She needed to upgrade. Maybe once she had this mess in hand, she could think about improving her digs and rejoining the land of the living.
Mahogany bookshelves were crammed with countless books with thick spines that showed that every volume was in a precise order, ready for easy reference. The Volkswagen-sized desk matched the shelves. Both were lacquered and cleaned to a smudge-free glossy shine that reflected the buttery light of the many lamps scattered around the room. The hardwood floors peeked out from under a massive, royal blue area rug. Serra had no doubt that it had set the male before her, back a few grand, at least. Everything, from the expensive baubles to the impressive marble Greek statue in the corner, screamed old money.
She was still wrapping her head around the fact that ten years had passed while she’d been in the Mountain and she was still butt hurt at being evicted, not knowing if she was banished or if her lease had been up and they were forcing her to move on. Not that there was anyone to ask. Even if there had been, knowing for sure that she was banished would destroy the little bit of her that was still breathing and fighting to survive. It would be the death of hope.
She fidgeted in her chair. If there was a bar in the corner and the walls vibrated with the pounding bass of the club, this could have been her father’s office. That made her want to pull inside herself and never come out again as her heart ached. The collar slid through her fingers, so soft and the intricate beadwork was beautiful. Nervously, she engaged and popped open the locking mechanism, wondering at the magic that made such a simple act impossible to accomplish when snapped onto another. She caressed the mark, branded into the leather, her teeth grinding.
It belonged to Salvation. That meant the only person, other than Pops that she could turn to for help, was off limits. And if she did go to Pops? He’d just hit up the Buffalo. She needed to know why he’d ordered her hurt like that. What did he hope to gain? Was she supposed to have died? Leaving her alive as a witness wasn’t smart. Not that she’d been much of a threat, but shit was about to change. Fuck playing the victim. She’d wasted enough time on that. It was time to dish out a little payback. If it killed her? So. Fucking. What.
Serra glanced across the desk at the lion shifter, who looked like a middle-aged human in his late fifties bent over papers, holding his head at that odd angle that allowed him to see through the reading section of his progressive lenses. His salt and pepper hair was cropped short in a not unattractive way as his golden eyes scanned line after line. A computer would be easier, or at least faster, but he ignored the twin monitors and keyboard that had been pushed to the far corner of his desk and flipped through the old school, hard copy of whatever he was reading. Serra sighed. This was taking forever and the silence, only interrupted by the occasional flutter of papers, was crushing her and allowing too much time alone with nothing but her thoughts and memories.
Her head turned as the door she hadn’t noticed opened, and a tall blonde stepped inside, closing it behind her. Serra could feel the woman’s eyes crawl over her. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she dressed in tight black leather from head to toe. Guns hung under her arms, strapped tightly to her body and within easy reach as she crossed her arms over her chest and stood behind Ozzy Fitzpatrick’s high-end, leather office chair. Knives and things Serra couldn’t identify were strapped to her slim hips and thighs. Serra’s hackles prickled at the foreboding and danger that wafted off the woman like an expensive perfume.
“So can you help me, or what?” Serra blurted out, lifting a defiant chin. She was beginning to feel like this was a trap, and these two were going to finish what those bastards had started. Coming here was a mistake. Ozzy was on the tribunal with her father. Either they were going to off her or Pops was going to know. Neither option was acceptable. Her skin itched with irritation and a growl hovered in the back of her throat.
The male clucked his tongue and held up the file, pointing at something with his finger for the female to see as the silence stretched on. It was torture. Fuck this. She didn’t need them. She grabbed her purse, shoved the collar inside and sprang to her feet. “Yeah. This was a mistake. Sorry to waste your time. Forget you saw me.” Serra began making her way to the door she’d come through. A deep voice stopped her hand as it gripped the knob.
“Leaving would be ill-advised.”
“Colossally fucking stupid is more like it,’ the female behind Ozzy muttered.
Serra looked back to see Ozzy’s eyes close for a second as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index fingers. “Reese...” His voice sounded tired but carried a clear warning.
Reese shrugged, unfazed. “What? It would be.”
Ozzy shook his head and cleared his throat. “Have a seat, Cub.”
Serra’s eyes bounced between them and then to the chair that he gestured to. Her heart jackhammered in her chest, and it was hard to breathe. Adrenaline made her hand shake as it dropped the knob and instinct told her she was about to be backed into a corner. Fight or run, whispered through her head. Fight, she decided. She’d been running. It was getting her nowhere. Centering herself, she squared her shoulders and leaned her back against the whitewashed door.
“Or stand.” Reese snorted, slid her ass onto the desk and checked her nails.
Serra didn’t miss the disapproving, yet amused look that Ozzy gave the female. She’d received it from Pops so many times that she recognized it immediately. Add in a little exasperation, and it was a look that only a parent can give their child. One side of Serra’s mouth twitched up as she put the pieces together. It was fleeting as a wave of homesickness made her want to hurl. “I’m listening.”
“You’re not willing to give any more details of what occurred?” Ozzy closed the file and leaned back in the chair, studying her.
Serra shook her head no. “The only clue I have is this. She pulled the collar from her purse and dangled it from her finger. “If I’m not mistaken, it belongs to Salvation.”
Ozzy’s brows shot toward his hairline. Reese turned, pushed the shades to the top of her head and pinned Serra with a cold stare before looking back at her father and giving her head a minute shake that was almost undetectable.
“That complicates things.” Ozzy steepled his fingers, leaning his elbows on the arms of the chair.
“Doesn’t it?” Serra smiled tightly. “Now you understand why I came to you.”
“We don’t need this kind of trouble,” Reese growled and went back to checking her manicure.
Ozzy’s amber eyes rolled to his daughter and then back to Serra. “Cub, we were built for that kind of trouble.” A ghost of a smile flickered across his face before he squashed it. “This is going to be costly and probably dangerous. What are you willing to do to take care of your ‘problem,’ Serra?”
“Whatever it takes.” Serra nodded and twisted the collar around her fingers. The cost wasn’t an issue. She had the cash. She couldn’t access it without putting herself back on Pop’s radar, but that couldn’t be helped.
“Good,” Ozzy smiled. Leaning to the side, he opened a drawer, pulled out a Rolodex card file and began flipping through it. “Step one. You buy a house, a big o
ne. Second. We want you to be seen, so get out there and do it.” He pulled a card from the wheel. “We’ll set you up with someone we trust to show you properties.” He read the card, put it back, and pulled the next one free. “Third. Keep it local. Reese will arrange for the security system install once you close.”
Reese nodded and flicked away something from under a nail. “I’ll get Rycker on it.” Ozzy smiled his approval at her choice.
“And then what?” Serra’s knees almost sagged with the wave of relief that washed over her. She was so close to having her life back, that she could taste it.
“Then, we wait.”
“So, I’m bait?”
“Yes,” Ozzy almost purred.
Reese shot Serra a doubtful glance. “You think she can handle it?”
Serra glared at the female. The bitch had no idea what she could handle, and it was a lot if she could dance in the SOB’s entrails.
“We’re about to find out,” Ozzy smirked at his daughter, who rolled her eyes. “Stay on guard. We’ll be keeping an eye on you, but never assume that someone following you, is us.”
Serra nodded, finger combing the hair back from her face and holding it there for a second before letting it go as she absorbed the instructions. “When do we start?”
“We already have, Cub.”
“I don’t want Pops involved.” Her chest constricted painfully. “I can’t...”
“Damion won’t hear about it from us.”
“And Salvation?”
“Only the bare facts. That a tribunal family member has been targeted and that they used his mark. No names. Do we have a deal?” Ozzy arched a brow, his eyes boring into her.
“We do.” Serra crossed the room and held out the hand that had the collar wrapped around it, smiling softly when Ozzy gave it a firm shake.
Jared had spent months trying to kill the pain in his heart. It had all been a lie, a nine-year, cut out your heart and remind you that your nothing but a worthless piece of shit, lie. Everyone kept going on about how it would get easier with time. Another fucking lie. Emma had fucked him so hard that his soul felt bruised. Only Brian understood, because when she’d finished with Jared, she’d moved on to his best friend and hit replay. The bitch was evil.
So many questions fired through his mind. Why would she do this to me? How could she just use me like and throw me away? Why use the one male that he thought of as a brother, to gut him? But that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the lie about the Cubs. They weren’t his, and that broke his heart. He’d thought Emma was the one. God, he was such a fool. Good things didn’t happen to him, especially if there was a female involved. He needed to tattoo that shit on his forehead so that he wouldn’t forget again.
Their eyes had changed, just like they were supposed to when you found your mate. Jared had thought he was finally blessed. Had known it was true when the cubs were born, and Daniel finally decided to be part of their lives. Sure, it was only so that he could know his siblings, but it was progress and it gave Jared hope that with time, they could mend what Heather had broken. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. None of it was real, just a spell that she’d cast. Why him? What did destroying his already ruined life get her? Jared didn’t understand.
He wanted to rip her throat out and piss on her corpse. When would he ever find peace? All he wanted was... He leaned back on the pillows and glared at the ceiling. His mind and his heart were finally on the same page with all of that. He wanted to be a father. He wanted the chance to raise his own children and show everyone that he wasn’t a total fuck up.
Daniel hated him because of everything Heather had done to the boy and for Jared leaving him with the psycho bitch. If he only knew the truth. Jared snorted. Not that it mattered to Daniel, the kid had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his old man. The shit with Emma just made it worse. Jared tried so damned hard to show his son that he was a good person and only wanted to be his friend. Brian had tried to tell him about the past and the truth. Daniel was stubborn and wouldn’t listen. He was at that age that knew everything, facts and experience didn’t mean shit. Jared thought about the first time he saw Daniel when he got out of prison. What a cluster fuck.
Jared got out of Brian’s beat up truck and closed the door. He looked around still not able to believe that for the first time in a long time, he was free. He tilted his head back to see the sky. He couldn’t remember it ever looking so blue. The last few months of his sentence were spent locked up in a tiny cell with no light. Still looking up at the sky, he turned and into bumped into someone. He looked down to see his son. Daniel.
He stood six foot five, his long hair was dyed black with red tips. Jared couldn’t see his eyes behind the shades that hid what he was sure would be daggers, once Daniel realized who he was. The kid was almost a mirror image of his father. The only tattoo his son had was Jared’s name on his middle finger on his right hand. “Excuse me,” Jared said looking at him.
Daniel was about to say no problem when he realized who he had just slammed into. A growl rolled from his chest, a primal warning to Jared to stay the hell away.
Jared wanted to hug him, but he knew that would only end in bloodshed. So he’d let the kid go when he pushed past him even though he ached to chase after his son and find a way to make it right.
Fuck. Jared needed to pull his life out of the downward spiral that he’d been in ever since he’d first laid eyes on Heather. Something had to fucking give, and he was tired of it always being him. His mind drifted, and he remembered stories of some couples in the Mountain asking Salvation for the ability to have a family of their own. His brows lifted as the warmth of hope grew in his chest.
Why couldn’t he do the same? Jared sat up in bed and smiled. What would it hurt to ask? All Salvation could do was tell Jared no. Like he hadn’t heard that all of his damn life? Jared knew it was a long shot, and may totally backfire on him, but he had to try.
The memories of Emma’s fake Cubs still haunted him. He could hear them and even smell them. Their scent still filled his room. A tear slid down his cheek. He wondered if someday he’d see them again. Would they remember him.? If he ever saw their mother again, he’d snap her neck just on sheer principle. What she did to him and Brian was twisted and sick. He was glad that he and his brother were able to mend fences and realized that she had played everyone for fools. He never asked his brother how he was handling it all. Jared figured if he wanted to talk about it, Brian would come to him. Neither of them were the caring and sharing type.
Climbing off the bed, Jared shifted into panther form and ghosted to the basement, stepping through the portal that it was his job to protect. After the slicing of his paw’s pad and saying the words routine, he found himself inside, trying to remember how to get to Salvation’s place. The Ghuardian was always on guard and had warded his home from being found unless someone was seeking it. Jared figured it was for other people’s safety and Sal’s privacy. The expression, don’t poke the bear, came to mind and Jared laughed.
Salvation wasn’t a bear. He was rumored to be Tatanka. Not just any Buffalo, but the first and the great white. If that were true, it would explain a lot of things about him. In the world of the humans, the story of the great white buffalo was about a woman. If they only knew the truth. Jared put his nose to the air and went in search of Salvation. It took him an hour to find the hard mountain of a man, sitting by a stream with his eyes closed. As Jared approached, Salvation didn’t open his eyes or move.
“What brings you here, Panther? You know just appearing here is not a rule to be broken, true?”
Jared shifted to human form and let his tribes native garb appear on him. Tanned leather pants and brown rabbit skin pelts for a shirt, covered his body. His tattoos seemed a little out of place, under the garb. His feet were bare as he sat down next to Salvation. “I know, and I couldn’t wait for you to come to me. I need a favor?”
Salvation eyed him for a moment bef
ore laughing. “A favor. For you? Why in the world would I do anything for you? Don’t you owe me enough already, Panther? If it were not for me, you’d still be rotting in that prison.” Salvation was still laughing.
Jared didn’t find this funny, at all. A growl started to come from his chest, but he quieted it. Jared swallowed back his anger and counted to ten before he spoke. “I want a child of my own. I know it’s weird for one person to ask for a child without a partner, but I know in my heart, it’s what I want.”
Salvation was shocked. Those words were the last thing he expected to come from this panther. “What about Daniel? You have a son already,” Salvation said crossing his arms over his chest.
“Daniel is grown and doesn’t need me to take care of him. I want the chance to be a father from the start. I was taken from Daniel when he was just a cub. I would have been a good father. Please, Salvation, this is important to me. I’ve done my best to follow the rules of man and the code set by the Ghuardians. You know I don’t ask you for anything, not even help. I learned long ago that it was pointless. But this isn’t about me. This is about giving someone else a chance.” Jared stared at him trying to read his face, but it was useless.
Salvation thought for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, Panther. I’ll give you a chance at fatherhood but under one condition. You never question where or how they came to be.”
Jared’s face filled with shock and then broke into a grin. “Of course.” He agreed watching Salvation stand.
“I’ll be in touch with you soon. Now, leave me.”
Jared got to his feet and thanked Salvation again before finding his way back to the portal and ghosting to his room. He almost didn’t dare to believe that he’d get what he’d asked for, but he needed to get ready on the off chance that the universe would give him one more shot. Shrugging on his jacket, Jared snapped up his keys and phone. He had necessities to buy. He smiled. Maybe shit was finally going to take a turn for the better.
The Mating (Black on Black, #1) Page 5
