by Haley Weir
“Shifters.”
“Precisely,” Michael said. “Rumors were good enough for him at this stage in her illness. He poured most of his fortune into research, wasting what precious years he had left with his wife halfway across the globe trying to find a cure. Alexander returned to England to learn that his wife had passed away and that his son was showing characteristics associated with shifters.”
“So, he despised Corey right away because his research never produced a cure,” Brock sighed. He ran a hand through his hair before his gaze fell upon the sleeping figure in his brother’s bed.
“What the doctors discovered was a suppressant, something to block a shifter from fully maturing into its abilities.” Michael filled a fresh glass with bourbon and took a sip. He went on to explain the rest of Destiny and Corey’s story, even proving that Corey had never been the one to set the fires.
“But he was leading the team that did,” Dorian argued.
“As far as I’m concerned, he made a lot of threats and tried to instill his authority, but failed. Every plan Corey had was thwarted by one of us. The fires, the stabbings, gunshot wounds...everything that happened to us was carried out by his rogue teammates.” Michael shrugged his shoulders as if unfazed by the entire conversation. “He didn’t consent to having his memory wiped or to become what his is.”
“Destiny might want to take a seat,” he said finally, freeing himself from the clutches of the past. His sister in law gave him a weary expression, but she took his advice. Michael explained everything he knew about Hydra’s monster and the hunters in the forest that he and Corey fought each night. “And I think he’s done all of this to save your mother.”
“Michael, my mother died a long time ago.”
“No...I don’t think she did,” he admitted. “There’s evidence that he might be keeping her somewhere. When someone dies, there’s usually a record of it. Funeral home receipts, death certificates, etc. But there was nothing. Your mother just disappeared from the face of the earth.”
Destiny stood up and shoved Michael. “How long have you known?”
“I didn’t know for certain, but I think I got close and that’s why they attacked my office and the loft. They were trying to destroy evidence while looking for whatever I dug up about your mother. I promise you that I didn’t know for sure.”
“But you suspected?” Destiny shouted. “You should have told me, Michael. You should have told Corey or Brock or anyone!”
“Corey knew. He didn’t want to get your hopes up if it turned out to be nothing.”
Brock moved to stand beside his wife and rubbed his hands up and down her arms soothingly. Michael watched them with a strange mixture of nausea and envy. He would have given anything to be able to touch his mate in that way and have her reciprocate. “I know I should have said something sooner, but I thought I could handle it.”
“Of course you did,” Brock sneered. “You think you can handle everything on your own. You always have. You think that leaving people in the dark is keeping them safe, but it’s not. All it does is makes more problems—”
“As if you have any right to say that to your brother.”
Michael’s head snapped around to see Tilly seething in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I told you that I had to do this on my own.”
“And I knew you wouldn’t stand up for yourself if he started playing the victim. All it takes is for Brock to bat his eyelashes and get a little teary eyed and you baby him.” Tilly stood toe to toe with Brock until Destiny pushed her husband back to face off with her friend. “Move out of the way, Des. You have no idea what’s going on.”
“Then tell me.”
“It’s not my place,” she replied. “Your husband needs to learn how to be honest for once in his life and put on his big boy pants and take responsibility for his actions. I’m tired of him using Michael like some sort of doormat he can wipe his feet on.”
“Brock has been fighting his own battles—”
“Too little, too late. At least in my opinion.”
Michael eased Tilly away from Destiny before the ladies began fighting for real. He didn’t want to end up at the emergency room. Michael pulled her over to the side. It was hard to hide the smile on his face, so he didn’t. She gave him a droll expression. “No one has ever stood up for me like that.”
“That makes me feel sad and violent at the same time. We call these pricks our friends? I can’t believe the nerve of them—” Michael’s hand cut off the rest of her rant. Her beautiful eyes glared over the edge of his fingers and Tilly childishly licked his palm. He wiped her drool onto her shirt, earning himself another of her vicious stares.
“Just because they’re focused on other things does not mean they don’t care about us. Yes, those pricks are our friends and we’re lucky to have them.”
“It doesn’t feel very lucky.”
Michael kissed Tilly’s cheek before he could stop himself and turned around to see his brother and sister-in-law staring at him as though he had grown a second head. His new partner in crime instantly went on the defense. “What are you looking at?” she hissed. Michael grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him a bit so she didn’t lunge at anyone again. “If they insist on acting like total jerks, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Calm down, Tilly. We’ve just never seen this side of you two before. A few seconds ago, my brother acted like he was allergic to human contact, but he just kissed you on the cheek and now he’s holding your hand,” Brock explained. “And you’re so aggressive. We all thought you were a bit shy before because you were never this outspoken...or possessive.”
“Possessive?”
Destiny’s tension bled from her body as she began to laugh. “Oh god! They’re worse than us! Babe, I don’t think they have any idea.”
Michael was a bit offended that Destiny found his situation so comical. When Brock joined in the laughter, Michael crossed his arms and tapped his foot until they found some semblance of self-control. “We’re seeing other people, if you must know. Now can we get back to what’s important and forget about my personal life?”
“Seeing other people?” Destiny asked. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you mates?”
Tilly stiffened and Michael wanted to punch a hole in the wall. He knew she didn’t like the idea of some sort of preordained match. “I might have chosen her, but Tilly still has the opportunity to find someone she has a stronger connection with. There’s no pressure between us and I want her to have options when the time comes that she feels like she wants to make a choice.”
“Can we get back on the subject, please?” Tilly fidgeted with her sleeves and lowered her head. “Michael has a plan on how to stop Hydra for good. He’s making an effort to open communication with you again, Brock. Prove you can be trusted.”
“What do you mean prove that I can be trusted? I’m his brother.”
“Then put away your ego and listen to what he has to say.”
All of the confidence left Brock at once. He let his head fall forward and leaned against the wall. "I know our past is complicated. I've tried so many times to apologize, but nothing was ever enough. Michael had already done so much for me that words never made it right between us. I was always going to be a screw up."
"You chose that path," Tilly reminded him. "You stood by and watched your brother struggle and fight your battles because that was easier than doing it yourself. You might not have hurt him the way your father did, but you still made him bleed and kicked him while he was down all the same."
Brock flinched and Michael looked away so he didn't jump to his brother's aid. Tilly looked disappointed. "You know that you can rely on him to be there for you, to lay his life on the line so you can do as you please. Destiny might have changed you, Brock, but you still have yet to make it up to Michael."
His brother peered over at him then and Michael couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second. He wasn’t ashamed, but he had never be
en able to tell if Brock was sincere. Far too often his little brother resorted to violence in the midst of their arguments, forcing Michael back into the headspace of a victim, making him feel weak or so angry that words failed him.
“If you’d open your eyes and see past your own bullshit, you might learn a thing or two about the people in your life. But I guess that's something you and Dad always had in common—” The punch was expected, but not the force behind it.
Brock’s chest heaved up and down as he breathed through his nose.
Michael unfolded the silk handkerchief from his pocket and spit out the blood that filled his mouth. Their father had always been a touchy subject, but one that was never entirely avoidable. Brock looked at Michael with so much hatred that was like being a boy again. His brother really couldn’t see how much he was like their old man.
Gentle hands cupped his face and tried to pull him back, but the past began to twist itself into an ugly portrait of his pain. He lifted Tilly up and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him through onslaught of his misery.
...Lights flickered above his head as he cradled his injured arm against his side, hiding in the corner like a coward as his father hurled pots and pans at him. Michael cried quietly, knowing that if he screamed for help than the pain would only get worse. He learned his lesson the last time the authorities were called to check up on them. His father had spun a lie about Michael being out of control and wrecking the house, causing a commotion, and hurting himself in the process. Suddenly his thoughts were back in Brock’s old apartment where they had nearly walked away from each other and never looked back. He remembered the identical loathing in his brother’s eyes as and the stench of liquor in the air.
That was how their family dealt with emotion. They drowned themselves at the bottom of a bottle and hoped their problems retreated by morning.
“I hate that bastard just as much as you do,” Brock yelled. “You took a lot of pain for me, Michael, and I’ll always be grateful that I’m alive because of you. But don’t ever think that I had it easy in that house.”
You might not have had it easy, but you sure as hell never had to clean up after your own messes,” Michael snapped back. “And it’s not like you have to this time either. Don’t worry, little brother, even if we don’t speak to one another ever again…I’ll make sure Corey Reed isn’t your problem anymore.”
“By what? Making him your problem?”
“Haven’t you heard? That’s what I do,” Michael replied. “I fix other peoples’ problems and I don’t get to complain. Have a nice life. Close the door on your way out.”
He was catapulted back into the kitchen of his family home once again where a young Michael Adair cowered beneath the wrath of his father…
He looked over to see Brock shuffle across the tile. The young toddler didn’t bat an eyelash at the show of violence that caused Michael’s legs to buckle and hit the floor. But when his father turned his seething gaze upon Brock, he jumped between them as always. “Don’t you dare touch my brother!”
That night, a boy had learned to stand up to a man nearly four times his size. Michael hadn’t won the fight, not by a long shot, but he succeeded in keeping Brock safe. Tilly’s face finally sharpened as the memories receded to the corners of his mind where they always lingered. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her ears only. “I hate when he looks at me like that. I...can’t handle him hating me.”
“Michael,” she said softly. “Look at him. Brock doesn’t hate you. Right now he’s afraid and confused just like you were when you found out the world wasn’t fair. He just watched his big brother, his warrior and fiercest defender, break for the first time. Brock doesn’t know what to do. He now knows exactly what his selfishness had done to you.”
Tilly looked over her shoulder, but Michael couldn’t follow her gaze. Instead, he buried his face in her neck and allowed her scent to calm him. “Destiny didn’t tell you this, but the reason Anders doesn’t like you is because you’ve failed for years to notice what pain your actions have caused Michael.”
Brock turned to his wife. “Is it true?”
Destiny nodded her head slowly. “He said that until you do your part to fix your relationship with Michael or at least meet him halfway, then he can’t see himself being anything more than civilized toward you for a long time. They’ve gotten over your mistake with hunters, Brock, but none of them have forgiven you for the strain on your relationship with Michael.”
As the married couple talked over a few things, Michael and Tillly walked out of the house unnoticed. They climbed into his car and Michael finally asked, “How did you know where to find me? I didn’t leave a message or anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” she snorted. “I’ve been around you long enough to realize when you’re up to something. I knew you were planning the trip with Corey and our conversation made you want to try with Brock again, but...you shouldn’t have gone alone. We can be a united front, Michael. That doesn’t have to be complicated.”
“I overthink things sometimes.”
“No?!” she gasped in mock surprise. “Michael Adair has a flaw? Who would have guessed? But in all seriousness, you should have let me punch him just once. I know he’s hit you a couple of times and you still fight to the death for him, so it’s only fair.”
“You are not going to punch my brother.”
Tilly put her feet up on the dash and Michael swatted her legs down. “What?”
“Don’t give me that innocent look. Do you have any idea how expensive this car is? I don’t need your footprints on the window or your shoes scuffing up the interior.”
“I’m a country girl! Putting our feet up on the dash is sort of what we do.” The indignation in her voice made him want to roll his eyes. “Just wait until summer time rolls around. We’re going to have so much fun. There will be mud in uncomfortable places and camping gear near the kitchen door at all times.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I can tell your childhood was no picnic, sweetie.” Tilly brushed his hair from his face as he drove them back to the house. “And that means I get to spend the time that we’re roommates wisely by giving you all the first experiences most people have as a kid. Sleeping outside beneath the stars, fishing, rock climbing—”
“You do realize that I lived in the mountains on my own for years, right?” Michael interrupted. “I’m pretty sure I have more experience in sleeping outside and rock climbing than you do. in fact, I’m positive.”
“I’m talking about camping, Mr. Dark-and-brooding, not survival. Did you roast marshmallows or sing songs or play games?”
He shook his head.
“Then our adventures are only just beginning.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The helicopter landed several miles outside of the Haden Springs. Niko pulled on his bags and trekked the remaining distance on foot. He didn’t sweat or lose his breath even as the rain weighed him down. The path that led through the south end of the mountain was overgrown and unstable, but Niko didn’t slow his steps at all. He barreled ahead without so much as a falter in his stride.
A series of caves ran through the mountain. Some were old mining shafts while others were used to extend the nature trails that locals used for their hikes. He couldn’t see the town from there, but it was high enough that he could see anyone who dared approach. The forest was riddled with traps and mines buried in the ground from when Corey’s loyalties hadn’t been aligned with the bears.
Niko had work to do. Those traps were mere inconveniences, but he would get his job done or else Hydra would make sure he regretted his failures. He waited for dawn before approaching town. Under the guise of a murky grey sky, Niko moved through the streets. He stood outside of the home of Michael Adair’s mate and watched her rise from her bed.
Matilda Jane Riker was a procrastinator. He waited in the shadows for twenty minutes before she walked out of the front door and climbed into her car. Niko followed
, remaining a block behind her crummy little vehicle at all times. When she stopped at the school, he rounded the car. Before she could close the door, He put her into a headlock. Matilda Riker kicked her legs and flailed, but she was no match for his strength.
Niko watched the parking lot, seeing no other cars nearby as he shoved the unconscious woman in the backseat. He climbed behind the wheel and drove away without anyone noticing a thing. The car didn’t make it far before it sputtered out and overheated, but it got him as far as the forest. Niko tossed her over his shoulder and walked calmly toward his camp with a measured stride, careful to avoid any mines.
The overhang was just big enough for the two of them. He covered her with his jacket as the rain continued to fall and he waited for her to awaken. Keeping her healthy was paramount to his cause, for allowing her to fall ill would only slow him down. She began to stir just as the sun rose entirely above the town. Her eyes shifted like an owl and Niko wondered what appealed to Michael so much.
“W-who are you?” she asked. He hated her for the weakness he heard in her voice. On the occasions he had listened in on her conversations, her fiery spirit had impressed Niko. But the creature who cowered before him was nothing like he expected. Her eyes danced across his face and he saw the disgust and fear in their depths. It didn’t bother Niko one bit. He enjoyed it.
“My name is Niko."
"Why have you taken me?" Matilda's eyes didn't stop twitching from his hands to his face and over to his gun belt. "I'm not like the others. I'm not a shifter or something."
"I know."
"Then what would Hydra want with a school teacher?"
"We know that you're much more important than that. You mean something to Michael Adair," he clicked. "Don't worry, I'll have you back to your students soon."
