by Eve Langlais
Kole, not his mum. No way could his mother be party to this kind of atrocity.
A mother who left her sons could.
His mother was dead.
Nev was who he should be concentrating on. He needed to find a way to help her cultivate her courage while treading slowly and carefully so he wouldn’t trigger her escape instinct. Else, he had no doubt she’d fly the nest he’d built her the first chance she got.
Worry about her was why he chose to sleep under the stars that night, out of immediate sight of the treehouse, yet close enough he could come to Nev’s rescue if she needed him.
An hour into his watch came the first text message. His phone vibrated, and he lifted it to glance at the screen. Ah friggin’ hell, a group text.
Jeremy: Where you at?
Jeb: Nice night to look at the stars.
Jaycon: Who you shagging?
Jeb: No one.
Jeremy: The code word for his hand.
Jaycon: He really should give it a nickname.
Jeb: I am not whacking off.
Jeremy: Then why did you take a comforter and pillow?
Stupid brothers. They’d noticed him pilfering some stuff after all.
Jeb: Nothing wrong with getting comfortable.
Jaycon: Okay, you lily-skinned sheila.
Jeb didn’t reply to the insult. He was not soft. Angel’s skin on the other hand…
He stared around the bole of the tree at the treehouse perched yonder. Built when the boys were young, their secret hideaway. A place to play, collaborate, drink… But not a permanent place for a lady.
What was he going to do with Angel? He’d really hoped the powder would work. The same recipe had done wonders with Mary-belle when she’d had that problem switching back and forth between her shapes. It even worked on ferals, shifters who’d lost their way and needed help regaining their human form.
But it didn’t do a thing for Angel. Was it because she started out human? He needed to know more, maybe dig into some of his ancestors’ notes at the house. But that meant leaving her alone.
Only for a few hours.
Surely, she’d be fine.
He gave one last peek before trekking the familiar path back to the house. The sprawling ranch had been in the family for several generations now and had grown from its original shack to a thing with numerous rooms, the better to accommodate a large family with lots of relatives always coming and going.
Given their recent mission, it was fuller than usual, with all his brothers in attendance, minus Jaxon. He’d lost his lady bird and gone looking for her.
With that exception, everyone else—Jones brothers, fathers, and uncles—were gathered around the massive kitchen table and island. They paid him no mind when he walked in. They were all more intent on seeing what Jaycon displayed on his laptop screen.
Squeezing between Uncles Kyle and Kevyn, Jeb peeked to see what held their interest.
A video.
A shaky video taken of the helicopter that had escaped with the woman in red.
The woman they suspected of being their mum.
No one said a word as they stared.
The clip ended.
“Rewind.”
They watched again.
The only person not paying it much mind was their da. He puttered around the kitchen, doing dishes—which he hated—wiping off the counter—also hated—and doing a shit poor job of pretending disinterest.
So Jeb blurted the obvious. “How long have you known she was alive?” Silence descended as the Jones boys all eyed their father. The uncles, on the other hand, found the ceiling interesting. Kendrick even whistled not so innocently.
“Er. What you talking about? Just as surprised as—” Da lied, and his sons glared. Glared enough that their da sighed. “Ah fuck it. Yeah, I knew,” he admitted.
“And you never thought to tell us?” barked Jeremy.
Da shrugged. “Tell you what? That she went a little crazy after Jaxon’s birth? Decided being a mum wasn’t her thing and took off to be with another man?”
“She left you for Kole?” The incredulity was seen on all their faces.
“But he’s short.”
“And pudgy.”
“He’s a feckin’ koala. What can she possibly see in him?”
It was Uncle Kyle who replied. “Your mother wanted an easier life. One without diapers and holes in the walls.” The brothers tended to be rambunctious when they played. Even their da and uncles sometimes contributed, their good-natured tussles not easy on flimsy plaster and furniture with spindly legs. “She wanted to be somewhere people served her instead of the other way around.”
“But she’s our ma. It’s what ma’s do.” Jeremy kind of summed up their thoughts.
“Some mothers like caring for their family and stuff. Others…they find it too hard and—” Da made excuses.
Jaycon interrupted. “And some lack the balls to take responsibility and leave.”
“I don’t believe it.” It was Jeb who shook his head. He wouldn’t believe it of the woman who used to tuck him in at night and read him a story. “Kole must have done something. Blackmailed her. Threatened us.”
“For over twenty years?” It was his father who pointed out the glaringly obvious fact.
However, something about it just didn’t feel right. Surely there was more to it than that.
An argument ensued with some brothers insisting they needed to save Ma.
“She’s obviously a prisoner.”
“Being blackmailed.”
“We should rescue her.”
To the more pragmatic ones.
“She skipped out on us.”
“We should get revenge.”
Jeb might have jumped into the argument except he had something more on his mind than a woman who’d ignored her flesh and blood for decades.
“So that institute we rescued Jax and Mari from, what exactly were they doing there?” Jeb asked. “Did we find anything out? Crack the files on those hard drives yet?”
A negative shake of Jaycon’s head preceded his reply. “They are locked tight. I’m working on it. It would have helped if we’d found some of the subjects alive. But other than Mari and Jaxon, they’d already evacuated the viable ones. Judging by the puddles of goop we found, they eliminated the rest with that gas before they totally demolished the building with a hidden bomb.”
They didn’t suspect at all about Angel. Jeb went to sigh, only to almost choke when Jaycon said, “But I think at least one of them might have escaped.”
“Really?” Jeb said.
It was his older brother who explained. “I was watching the web for trigger words.” Trigger words being sightings by the uninformed humans of possible shifters. “I saw something on a Twitter feed. Some bloke living out by the institute claims he saw a giant bird with wheels instead of legs go flying by last night.”
Jeb did his best not to react. “Obviously drunk.”
“Could be, but just in case, I think a few of us should head back out and see if we can track any scents. If some of those experiments did manage to get out, then we should capture them before anyone else does.” The anyone else being humans, of course. “Who’s in?”
Jakob and big Jackson—yet another brother spelled with a K instead of an X to fuck with people—immediately raised their hands.
Jeremy glanced at Jeb. “What about you?”
Leave now, with Angel hiding in a tree? The right thing was to say no. However, that would look suspicious. Not to mention, what kind of trail had he and his angel left during their mad flight from the institute?
“Totally in. As a matter of fact, how about I leave tonight.” He just had to make one detour first.
7
Someone is watching me. A common occurrence when living in a cage. Except Nev had escaped the cage, so who stared?
She opened her eyes, and glowing yellow ones peeked back at her. It drew a scream.
A loud one as she scrambled to h
er feet, away from the intruder, her wings flapping in agitation.
The snake dropped to the floor, its thick shape undulating as it moved toward her.
“Oh hell no!” she yelled. Despite her fear, she dove forward and grabbed the snake behind the head like she’d seen on animal shows. The scaly skin repulsed her, and the serpent, unhappy with her handling, tried to lift its tail to coil around her.
Using her foot, she lifted the trap door and then thrust her arm through, giving one last squeak of terror as the thing hissed before falling to the ground. Probably plotting its revenge. She slammed the trapdoor shut and tried to catch her terrified breath.
“Angel!” Jeb called to her, and before she could reply, his head popped through the trap door. The rest of him soon followed, and she couldn’t help but throw herself at him, looking for the comfort he gave.
He caught and held her. “Your heart is pounding. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she muttered. “Just had to take care of a visitor.”
He squeezed her. “Did Verm pay you a visit?”
“Verm?”
“Pet python. When he got too big for the tank in the house, Da had us put him outside.”
“You knew there was a snake and didn’t warn me?”
“I thought for sure he’d moved on by now.”
She shoved away and hit him in the chest. Might as well hit a brick wall. “You jerk! I thought it was going to kill me.”
“Who, Verm? I’m sure he just wanted to say hello.”
She glared. “Not funny, Jeb.”
“Does this mean you’re not happy to see me?” He grinned.
And damn him, but she was happy to see him. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night. I thought you left.” What did it say about her that she was glad he hadn’t?
“I did leave, but I came back to tell you I’ve got to go away for a few days.”
“What? Where? Why?” Add in a who and she’d sound like her third-grade teacher.
“Apparently, we didn’t get away completely unseen. My brothers are heading out to see if they can find a trail. I’m going to get ahead of them and make sure there’s none.”
“You’re leaving to protect me?” The sweetness of it restarted the flutter in her heart.
“I told you I’d keep you safe. But I didn’t want you thinking I’d abandoned you.” He held up his arm and showed her a sack dangling from his hand. “I brought some more food. Mostly canned stuffed. It should tide you over until I return.”
“You won’t abandon me?”
At the soft words, he reached out and ran a knuckle down her cheek. A tremor went through her.
“Never. I promise. I’ll just be gone a few days. Think you can handle it?”
No. Yet that wasn’t what she said. She nodded. “I don’t have much of a choice, I guess.”
He drew closer, the size of him overtaking the space, and yet she didn’t mind. She drew comfort from it. He pulled her against him. “Stay hidden.”
“What if someone finds me?”
“No one should. You’re on Jones land. But if they do…” He dug into his pocket and drew out a phone. “I took one of the spare burners we keep at the house. I programmed my number into it. And the one for my brother, Jaycon. If you’re in danger, you don’t hesitate. You call him.”
She took the phone and bit her lower lip. “Wouldn’t it just be easier if I went away?”
He barked, “No. Because then I’d have to find you.”
She raised her gaze to meet his. “And why would you do that?”
“Because.”
Before she could reply that because wasn’t an answer, his lips pressed against hers creating that same electrical sensation as before.
She sighed into his mouth, relaxing into the kiss, feeling her body respond in a way she never thought it would again.
She leaned into him, the feel of his hard body welcome against hers. The heat of the embrace warming all the cold parts, especially her jaded heart.
All too soon, and before she’d had enough, he pulled away. “I should get going.”
She almost asked him to stay. Almost.
Instead, she hugged herself as he popped back out of the treehouse, leaving her alone.
All alone. Now’s my chance to go.
Rather than escape, she lay down on her stomach in her nest of blankets and waited. And waited.
The next day, she explored her limited area. Ran into Verm again. When he hissed, she hissed back. But was it her, or did it smile?
That afternoon she caught a rodent trying to eat her crackers. She gave it to the snake for dinner. In return, Verm took care of the creature snuffling at the foot of the tree in the night. His bulging belly the next morning showed he’d made it into dinner.
It was quiet in the treehouse. A peaceful if wary existence. An even more precarious freedom.
But it was freedom. She saw no one else during her wait. Never thought she’d miss seeing other people. Eventually, the solitude sent her looking.
Following an overgrown path, she discovered a house at the end of it. A sprawling affair with the windows alight even late at night.
The scents that bombarded her—smoke, food cooking, exhaust—sent her scurrying for the wild safety of the woods.
Yet, day after day, when the witching hour hit, she crept back to peek. Wondering if Jeb had returned.
Hating herself for the weakness. Yet unable to stop the yearning.
It was three days before he returned. Three days of her wondering if he’d come back.
On the third evening, she heard it, music in the distance.
Despite the early evening hour, she crept out of her hiding spot, the darkness hiding her approach.
She came close enough to hear not only the strains of rock and roll but the ribald sound of laughter and conversation. A party.
Heading away from the lights in the yard, and the tables set with platters and bowls of food, Jeb.
He’s back!
Quickly, she fled back to the treehouse and had barely made it inside when she heard someone approach. She peeked from the window to see who.
The familiar lanky walk and wide shoulders could only be one person. Jeb! He returned with a carefully balanced covered plate of food.
Freshly made food. She could smell something barbecued.
Her stomach gurgled, but she didn’t rush down to greet him.
He’d been gone for so long. Without a call to the cell phone that died that morning. Enough time for her to second-guess everything.
Which might explain why, when he whistled, she muttered, “I am not a dog.”
8
Jeb smiled at her reply. Because she was right. She was much cuter than any canine.
“I brought food.” He held up the offering.
“Yes!” The happily hissed word preceded her head poking from a window where she’d loosened a screen, probably in case she needed a quick exit. She clambered out and perched on the sill.
But he didn’t panic, not like the first time he’d seen her atop a ledge. She leaped, a graceful and petite thing, her shadowy wings easing her descent. He smiled in pleasure at the sight of her.
His very own angel.
What a pity he’d long ago lost his halo. But lucky for him, she didn’t seem to mind.
“I brought you something.” He held out the plate, and she dove on it.
“Ribs! Ooh potatoes,” she exclaimed. She dug into the repast, humming happily.
Whereas he was happy just seeing her. The days he’d spent away, she’d been on his mind. Not just because he worried about her safety but because he couldn’t forget the kiss they’d shared.
Emasculating in some respects, men weren’t supposed to moon over kisses, and yet the memory of it was what kept him tracking and backtracking, looking for traces of their passage. Finding stray feathers and burning them. Scuffing out the tire marks. Pretending innocence when he ran into his brothers and said, �
��Nothing this way.”
The good news was that, between the fire and the efforts to extinguish it, nothing remained of the secret lab. Nothing to link back to Angel.
So long as everyone, especially Kole, thought she was dead, the better.
In between bites of food, she asked, “How long are you going to keep me here?”
Funny how the word forever came to mind. Given she’d probably assume the worst and throw something at him if he said it, he instead stuck to, “I don’t know. Until we can find a way to hide those wings, going out in public is obviously a no-no.”
“I told you, pair of garden shears will remedy that problem.”
“And I told you, no cutting.”
She paused her eating to regard him. “Do you have some fetish for a woman with wings? Maybe some secret fantasy? Is that why you’re so against me having them removed?”
“No matter how you got them, they are an intricate part of you now. What if they’re connected to a major artery? Or you need them to live or something?” Not to mention they were beautiful. How could she think of amputating them?
“Beautiful?” she queried.
He blinked. “Did I say that out loud?”
“I heard it, didn’t I? I don’t know how you can think it’s beautiful when they make me a freak.”
“You are not a freak.”
“Says the man who thinks I should remain hidden.”
She had a point.
Tell her about shifters.
She’d never believe him.
I could show her. Show her my kanga side.
What if that made things worse? He’d heard stories. Horror stories of humans completely losing their shit at the news. According to Uncle Kevyn, the reason Boggy Joe never came to town was because his lady love killed herself once she found out she’d married a swamp beast.
Could the knowledge be the thing that put Nev over the edge? And what if her wings weren’t permanent? She did start out as human.
“We’re hiding you for your own protection.”
“I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just so boring out here all alone.”
“I’m back now.”
