by Haley Weir
“Why?”
“Why not?” He asked. “Most of this land hasn’t been claimed by man, which means that it is ripe for harvest. These devices will help establish my land...my little corner of paradise.”
“Paradise? Ripe for harvest?” Jenny snorted. “Are you a poet or something?”
“Wayward souls wander through the dense fog that obscures wealth and the fatality of clawing poverty. Here in the darkness we are all equals, for paradise and the inferno are interchangeable when one establishes commonality. And only those struck by madness will claim that pain is not the foundation of humanity.”
“A poet it is, then.”
“I’m surprised you don’t know the works of your so-called friend. What would Sapphire White think if she knew that those she cherished most did not value her?” Corey hissed. “You disappoint me.”
“I wasn’t aware that my job was to uphold your standards.”
“Not my standards, but at least your own.” He tucked the mines carefully into his bags and strapped them onto his back. Corey walked over to Jenny and secured her hands in front of her with a longer rope and pulled her along as though she were a dog on a leash. She stumbled, falling onto her side on the damp ground. Corey flipped open his utility knife with a flourish and sawed through the binds around her ankles.
“Do you have no sympathy?”
“Sympathy is synonymous with pity in my mind. And I don’t take you for the sort who appreciates pity.” Others found his snarky temperament to be tiring at best, but Jenny seemed just as fascinated by him as he was by her.
“Can I at least have some pants?”
“Why?”
“Why not?” she asked, echoing his earlier question. Corey allowed a smirk to appear on his face as he strolled over to the tent and tossed her the yoga pants that had been stripped away when she was searched. Jenny didn’t utter any thanks, but she wiggled into her pants awkwardly with tethered hands. “Lead the way, Kemosabe.”
He rolled his eyes and pulled her through the forest. Every so often he would look down at the mark on her ankle and be reminded that she was the concubine of a monster, a freak of nature. “Why the bear? Why, when you knew what he really was, did you accept him?”
Jenny shrugged. “I guess it’s because I knew the man before I knew the bear.”
“You think he’s still a man?” he asked mockingly. “That thing is an abomination. No woman of worth could love something so vile…so unnatural.”
“Who hurt you?”
Her question caused his steps to falter. Corey turned on her with a vicious snarl and yanked her head back by a fistful of hair. “What makes you think I’ve been hurt?”
She gritted her teeth, but did not scream out in pain. He assumed she was unwilling to give him the satisfaction. Another trait he admired. Jenny glared at him from beneath her lashes. “Come on. Let’s be honest. You’re not a bad looking guy. Maybe a little too pretty for my taste, but you must turn heads. Black hair, silver eyes, red lips, and a bone structure models would kill for? Tell me.”
“The entire world seems keen on hurting me,” he admitted through tightly clenched teeth. “I’m here to do my job. And when it’s over I’ll carve my name into the chest of your mate and his friends without batting an eye. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Job?” she prodded. “Job implies a directive, a directive implies a chain of command. You definitely strike me as the military type, so who’s pulling the strings, I wonder.”
Corey released Jenny’s hair and pulled the rope harshly, causing her to trip, but never letting her stumble in order to throw him off balance.
***
Rocks dug into the pads of her feet. Damp soil didn’t keep her from stubbing her toe and bloodying them on roots and branches jutting out onto the path. She bit her lip and tried to keep herself from whimpering. The numbness that had settled into her arms and legs after days of being hogtied like an outlaw in a cheesy western finally began to fade. Jenny was proud of her ability to goad her seemingly unshakeable captor into revealing information about himself. He seemed downright lonely despite working with three other people.
“What’s your name?” she asked, giving him pause once more. It was as if he was so used to being in isolation that the sound of an unfamiliar voice always caught him by surprise. “You know my name. It’s only fair that I know yours.”
“Corey.”
“No last name?”
“None that you’ll get,” he bit out. “The others are Patrick, Travis, and Vanessa.”
“Patrick and Travis are Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. Vanessa is the Victoria’s Secret wannabe that knocked me out at the clinic, right? She can take a long walk off a short bridge for all I care.” Jenny smiled to herself when she heard him snort in puzzled amusement. “That abomination is named Dorian, by the way.”
“Do you love him?” The question was unexpected, but she needed to stop thinking that Corey was a predictable man.
“I’m not sure, really. I feel a very strong pull, but I’m not sure what love actually feels like. I’ve never had someone give me a reason to let my guard down that far. Just because fate decided that we’re mates doesn’t mean our futures are set in stone.”
“Is that bitterness I detect?”
Jenny stopped short, causing tension to halt Corey’s movements. He turned to look at her inquisitively. She nodded her head and maintained eye contact. “Yes, it is. Before I came to Haden Springs, I was hurt very badly. Every day I lied to myself and everyone around me, saying that I was unaffected by it, but it broke something in me.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who’s broken.”
“No, I probably don’t,” she said. “But that’s because of Dorian. He looked at me and didn’t see a tattered soul that needed to be mended. He saw me for who I was, for who I could become if I allowed myself to open up to him.”
Corey sighed. “It’s no wonder you’re a successful blues singer.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re miserable and blinded by an overly romanticized version of love. Whoever said you didn’t believe in love was a fool,” he alleged. “I guess that was one of those lies you told yourself to appear indifferent, right? Denial is yet another symptom of self-inflicted misery.”
“You should be a shrink.”
“Nah, I’ve had enough therapy to last me a lifetime.”
Jenny wasn’t sure if Corey meant to let that detail about himself slip, but she didn’t comment. They walked all over the mountain and the valley below, setting up the mines as he mapped the land silently in his mind.
“Are those going to kill anyone? What if hikers or campers get blown up?”
Corey closed his eyes and gave her the most impatient expression she had ever witnessed. “I said these are fragmentation mines, which means that they are meant to maim, not kill. They’ll detonate a small explosion, but it won’t be big enough to blow anyone up. It’ll project shrapnel and alert me of any trespassers.”
“How are they supposed to know that they’re on your land if you don’t mark it?”
“They’ll know when the mine detonates.”
Jenny wished she knew the land better so she could warn Dorian. She had faith that he would find her. But knowing that Corey and the others were counting on him coming after those who put his mate in danger, she didn’t want him to. Jenny decided to devise a plan to escape before anyone could get hurt. If she were killed trying, then they would have no reason to endanger themselves for her sake.
“You and Vanessa seem close,” she said in a way of conversation.
“Not as close as she thinks.”
“Ah, it’s a ‘no strings attached’ sort of thing?”
Corey didn’t answer. When are men going to realize that silence is more profound than words when it comes to certain questions? Jenny wondered. “I get needing some sort of a release, but I think you could do better.”
“Are you propositioning
me?”
Jenny got the impression that she had surprised Corey once again. “Dorian and I might be mates, but even in the books the females are allowed to reject the males. If you’ve been watching me as closely as you claim, then you know I’m called ‘The Ice Queen’ for a reason. Like I said, you’re a good looking guy.”
“Not too pretty for you after all, then?”
She chuckled a little and strutted over to him, lifting her hands enough to touch the corded muscles of his neck. “I said that so you would tell me what was between you and Vanessa. Might be coldhearted, but I’m not heartless. Knowing we’re both…unattached makes you more attractive.”
“You would do that?” he asked skeptically. “You would reject him knowing he could never take another mate or challenge your decision?”
Jenny shrugged once again, never allowing her gaze to waver. “Honestly?”
He nodded.
“Knowing that he like a puppy on a leash thrills me,” she hummed. “I might not be in love with Dorian, but I am in love with power.”
Corey jerked her hands down and squeezed her wrists, causing her to cry out for the first time since her abduction. He came close enough to kiss her as he said, “And that is exactly what you are right now, Jenny: a puppy on a leash. Just like you, I’m loving the power.” Corey released her and turned his back to Jenny, but there had been a moment where she thought he might actually kiss her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“It’s been a week, Michael!” Dorian slammed the door behind him after bursting into his best friend’s loft. He looked around, but all he saw was a male silhouette behind the frosted glass that encased the platform where the California King bed was concealed. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the concrete floor as he waited for Michael to grace him with his presence. To his surprise, a female figure scurried out of the bed and hurried into the bathroom.
Michael tied a robe around his waist and rounded the glass corner. “You could have called, you know. That is the polite thing to do when you wish to speak to someone. You call and then you arrange a visit, you don’t just show up unannounced.”
“Oh, I think I announced myself alright.”
“What do you want, Dorian? I’m aware a week has passed, but these things can’t be rushed,” Michael chided. Dorian hated it when his friend spoke to him as if he were a child. Though he was the youngest of their friend group, Dorian was twice as mature as Brock and sometimes even Anders.
“I want my mate back, but I can see why you’ve been too busy to help.”
Michael swaggered over to the flashy marble-top desk. He pointed to a file that rested on top of a pile of what looked like important documents. “This is what I’ve been doing. Chloe was just a distraction to clear my mind.”
“I’m sure.” Dorian lifted up the folder and opened it to study the information inside. There were print offs from an FBI database and other sensitive materials obtained from the government. “Where the hell did you get all of this?”
“I have connections,” was all Michael said. Dorian didn’t care about his friend’s secrets so long as they helped him get Jenny back.
“Who are these people?”
“Those are the hunters. While you’ve been entertaining yourself with the local book club, I’ve been digging around,” Michael revealed. “I sent someone onto the mountain to take some photos and those four were caught on film. They’ve used several different identities, so it was hard to pin them down.” Michael reached out and flipped through a few pages, stopping on the one he wanted Dorian to see. “That man is Corey Reed. He’s the closest thing this country has ever seen to a super soldier. His stats are off the charts. Several tests have had to be developed to measure his potential and he excels at everything.”
“And we’re his targets.”
“Precisely,” his enigmatic friend sighed. “His crew is comprised of a marksman, a tracker, and a recon specialist. They all have impeccable survival skills and can drop off the face of the earth with one phone call.”
“The perfect hunters.”
“So it would seem.”
“What do we do?” Dorian asked for the hundredth time since Jenny went missing. “We can’t sit around until they decide to kill her. The longer we wait, the more suspicious they’ll be.” The buzzer for the elevator cut through their conversation. A moment later, Anders and Brock joined them. “You already came up with something, didn’t you? Why wait until I banged on your door and demanded that you hurry up?”
“Because not everything is on your timetable, Dorian.”
His mouth snapped shut and Anders gave him a sympathetic look. The woman who warmed Michael’s bed, Chloe, walked right up to Michael and kissed him on the lips. Michael stiffened, obviously not liking the sign of possession his bedmate displayed in front of his friends. Dorian looked away uncomfortably until she left.
Michael silenced Brock and Anders’ questions with a lift of his hand. “We toward the mountain along the river bank, no paths or trails that have been marked previously. Once we reach the quarry, we’ll find a series of caves. Some of them are abandoned mining tunnels, but there are some that lead to other areas of the forest.”
“And you think they’ve been using one of the uncharted areas to stay hidden.”
“I don’t think they want to hide,” Michael stated. “They most likely use the area because the cave tunnels keep the forest fires from crossing over into that part of the land. We’ll be surrounded by walls and in unfamiliar territory.”
“It’s a risk that I’m willing to take, but I won’t ask any of you to do the same.”
“We’re in this together,” Anders said. No one argued, but Dorian could sense tension. They packed only the essentials and headed to the edge of the forest. For the most part, they were dressed appropriately for the trek along the river. However, Michael somehow remained swathed in designer brands from head to toe.
“It’s custom,” he grumbled when Dorian stared down at the ridiculously expensive boots on his friend’s feet. Together, they made their way through the wilderness, keeping their eyes open for anything that might be watching them. It was dangerous to underestimate their enemies when they knew so little about their own kind. The hunters were no doubt experts on shifters, which put them at an advantage of Dorian and the others. “Wait.”
They all stopped in their tracks. Michael sniffed the air. “Something doesn’t seem right,” he said, moving quietly. Anders and Brock followed, but Dorian scanned the trees, feeling eyes on him from the shadows.
“We need to move,” he announced. “The riverbank leaves us too exposed and one of the hunters is a sharpshooter.”
“If we leave the path, we risk walking into traps.”
“I think we already stepped right into one,” Dorian complained. Michael relented and they went deeper into the forest to provide some sort of cover. He had never seen his friend look so nervous. Michael was always so sure of himself that seeing him shaken made Dorian overly cautious…or perhaps they were not cautious enough.
An eerie click sounded in the forest. Dorian, Michael, and Anders turned to look at Brock, who had gone pale. He slowly lowered his gaze until they noticed a pressure plate beneath his feet. Before they could tell him not to move, Brock shifted and triggered the internal fuse. They were blown back several feet, but no one caught fire or lost a limb from what Dorian could tell.
A pained groan caught his attention. Brock writhed on his back with shards of metal embedded in his chest as he fought to keep from shifting. Michael crouched and aimed his tranquilizer gun at his younger brother. “Don’t you dare, Brock! Not this close to town. You know a rampage would get you killed. That sheriff has been looking for a reason to put a few rounds of led in you.”
“I…can’t!”
“Yes, you can!” Michael bellowed. “Think about the innocent lives having picnics just a few miles down the river. If a bear that isn’t native to this region mauls them we won’t be ab
le to stay here. Fight it!”
Brock clawed at the shrapnel in his chest. He released a blood-chilling roar that was sure to bring some unwanted attention. Michael fired three darts into his brother’s back. Brock fought against the tranquilizer, but Michael had known the exact dosage to put an enraged bear down for the count. “Watch your step,” he growled before shoving past Anders and Dorian, leaving Brock facedown in the underbrush.
“For someone who doesn’t get out much, this doesn’t seem like your first time doing this,” Anders mutter, shooting a pointed look at Michael. “What else are you hiding from us that we should know about?”
Michael looked almost bored with the conversation. “I have half a fortune buried in a lake up in northern Canada. My name is Michael Alexander Adair. I’m a Libra who enjoys long walks through the woods in December and drinking a bottle of whiskey while I play cupid for the rest of the world. I’m paranoid about becoming a government lab rat. My father was abusive and I have commitment issues in all the areas of my life that matter. I’m married to my job and my brother is an asshole. There, I think I covered everything.”
They were stunned, but followed Michael toward the quarry without another word. In just that moment they learned more about their friend than they had their entire lives knowing one another. Michael was more knowledgeable about their situation than they gave him credit for. They should have listened to him when he insisted they stay along the sands of the riverbank.
***
Jenny’s heart thundered in her chest when Corey’s watch signaled that a mine had been triggered. If it weren’t for the very beastly roar that echoed through the mountains, she would have assumed it was just another false alarm. Corey nodded to Patrick and Travis. The two of them disappeared through the cave while Vanessa readied her weapons. “Can’t wait to put a bullet in their heads.”
Corey kicked the chair out from under Vanessa and towered over her. “You will not compromise my mission,” he said darkly. “Go against my direct orders and I will kill you faster than you can blink.”
