Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10)

by Nancy Gideon

  The van hit a hard bump, jarring him from it. He cartwheeled, seeing a large body of water. Then the ceiling above him.

  He looked at the back of his own hand and outlined the tattoo. Harder was trying to understand the striping gesture through her hair. A part? A streak?

  A mohawk.

  T-Ray Roux.

  *

  While Cale stood barefoot, eyes closed, moving sleekly through his warm up, plugged into his tunes, Silas and Max watched from the porch as time ticked away.

  “They’re going to kill him,” Silas said bleakly.

  “Maybe,” Max offered. “Maybe not.”

  “Win or lose, what’s the chance we’ll get them back?”

  “Fifty-fifty.”

  Silas scowled at him. “Riding that center line pretty tight, aren’t you?”

  “If he survives, we’ll have Lee and a powerful ally, and his clan’ll have a righteous leader. Thought that’s what you cared about.”

  “Yeah, well, I care about more things these days than I should. Must be fatherhood getting me all sentimental.”

  Cale spotted them, giving them a subdued nod before walking up to the steps. No arrogance, no swagger, just quiet focus as he asked Max, “Teach me more.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “Not good enough. I have to hold out three rounds or at least until I get word that they’re rescued. I promised that kid I’d make sure his momma came home. And I owe my clan an heir.”

  “And if you don’t hear that news by the end of round three?” Silas wanted to know.

  Cale answered him with a slight smile.

  Max pushed away from the rail to meet him on the grass while Silas went for more coffee. “There’s a few things I can tell you about. One’s a pulse. I don’t pass this on lightly. It’s fatal. There’s no way to test it before you use it. Sort of a mental hand grenade you throw into another’s mind.”

  “And?” When Max made an explosive gesture with his hands, he gasped. “You trust me, a Terriot, with that knowledge?”

  “Yes.”

  His faith made Cale reflective for a moment then the Terriot king said, “Tell me more.”

  *

  They were moving again.

  The van had stopped for a short time that morning, long enough for those upfront to gas up and grab food to go. Then they were taken, one at a time, to the bathroom after dire warnings of consequence should they try anything foolish.

  Kendra took care of necessities, then drank from her hands and washed her face with a scratchy paper towel. Not The Saint on Canal by any means, but better than smelling her own sweat for going on two days. As she was hurried back to the van, she cast quick glances around for anything that might give a clue as to where they were.

  Once she was tossed back in with Tina, they were given convenience store burritos that they devoured hungrily, washing them down with sickeningly sweet juice pouches. When their trash was taken away, they were blindfolded. She didn’t need their captors’ terse voices and rough handling to tell her they were almost at the end of the line.

  And for the first time, she started to feel afraid.

  *

  By late afternoon, Cale felt as ready as he’d ever be. He dressed with attitude, faded jeans tucked into his boots for comfort and ease of movement, olive drab A-shirt, and leather jacket. He gave his hefty diamond stud a twist as he studied his reflection.

  He saw in his eyes the boy who’d dared to love, who’d been traumatized and yet survived, the teen who’d shaped himself into a brutal weapon in order to shine in his father’s regard, the prince who’d brawled and warred and whored with indifference while holding his emotions locked away. The would-be king willing to do whatever necessary to rise and claim the prize that had motivated him ruthlessly ever since he’d pledged his heart and loyalty to the girl who held his diamond’s mate. And he saw the man who would surrender all for the sake of a safe and loving future he wouldn’t share.

  He closed his eyes and reached out, not daring to expend the energy to fully project, but needing that brief connection.

  My queen . . .

  My prince, my king, my love.

  Her response wound about him the way he wished her arms could. Caressing, clutching, cherishing. Wanting nothing more than to linger, he eased away gently.

  I will hold you in my heart forever.

  Cale? Cale!

  His eyes opened, filled with intensity and determination.

  *

  Giles and Brigit were just bringing Oscar back from school. The boy crossed to where Cale stood at the bottom of the stairs and hugged him tightly. He cupped the back of the boy’s head and breathed in the scent of youth and hope and dreams.

  “You want to stay here with your father, don’t you?”

  Oscar gave a start at Cale’s soft question, but nodded.

  “That’s okay. You’re still a Terriot prince. My brothers will see to anything you need. Our home is always open.” When the boy didn’t respond, he added, “Remember what I told you.”

  “What’s that?” Ozzy muttered against his shoulder.

  “In ten years you’ll be damned glad you made Pearl LaRoche your friend.”

  When Oscar laughed, Cale was able to push him away. He went to the couple, approving of Giles’s rock hard arm firmly about Brigit. He reached out to the human.

  “You’re a good man, Giles St. Clair, and you’ve got your hands full. I trust them to you.”

  “For an arrogant little bastard, you’re not so bad after all. I’ll take care of them.”

  They shook on it and then Brigit cast herself on him.

  “They’re gonna need you, Bree,” he whispered.

  “They need you more,” she sniffled.

  “Don’t turn my daughter into a fashion plate ballbuster.” He kissed her cheek and smiled. “On second thought, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

  She had his face between her hands, her eyes wet and angry. “This isn’t good-bye.”

  “No. Of course not.” He disentangled her gently. “I gotta make a call.”

  He went out the front door and dropped onto the glider, letting it sway back and forth for a moment while he breathed deep, head hanging low. Then he took out his phone and called.

  “Hey, Momma. Yeah, I’m fine. She’s good. We’ve got some news for you, but I’m gonna let Katy tell you. She’d never forgive me if I spoiled the surprise. No. No hints. I need you to do something for me. That box you’ve been holding, I need you to send it special currier. Get it here tonight. I don’t care about the cost.” He gave her the River Road address, smiling as he reassured her so she could hear it in his voice “No, everything’s fine. I’m okay. You’d be proud. I know that. I gotta go. Yeah, soon. I love you, Momma. Momma? Thank you.”

  He checked through his contact list and cued up another number, smiling at the sound of Philo Tibideax’s gruff irritation.

  “You sure picked a helluva time to turn into a king. I coulda used you on the job today.”

  “I wish blisters, backaches, and shit pay were the only things I had to look forward to for the rest of my life.”

  Philo laughed and asked warmly, “What can I do for you?”

  “Casper Lee took my queen and Alain Babineau’s wife. T-Ray Roux and a coupla other Patrol boys were in on it. Heads up. Roux’s got a complicated agenda, but I didn’t take him for this kind a play. Maybe he’s got a reason that would be worth hearing. Just a suggestion. If my brothers show up, I’d appreciate you extending them the same courtesy you did me.”

  “You mean I can put them to work?” A short laugh faded to an angry sigh. “Damn. T-Ray. Never woulda thought. Thanks for the tip. Sorry about your missus. Anything I can do for you?”

  “Thanks, but I gotta consider everything there compromised.”

  “I’ll get it sorted out. T-Ray. Damn!”

  Cale knew the feeling.

  He stood when he heard Silas’s crappy car turn down the drive and waited o
n the steps for him and Nica to get out.

  “Ready?” MacCreedy called out, not coming up to the house.

  “As I’ll ever be. Said my good-byes.”

  “If you’re giving your stuff away, can I have your bike and that jacket?”

  “Sure, why not.” He slid into the back, closing himself off behind his sunglasses.

  As Silas and Nica buckled in, she hissed at her husband, “That was a dick thing to say.”

  “Well, it’s a nice jacket.”

  Cale smiled and let himself Zen out for a short nap, knowing things were in motion and out of his hands. All he had to do now was show up.

  And survive for three rounds before bowing out for good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The elevator opened to Casper Lee’s rooftop playground. This time, there were no buffet tables, no DJ, no bikini babes, and no water in the pool.

  They had an enclosed cabana for a dressing room with a water cooler, a table and chairs, and supplies to do between round patch ups. Cale shrugged out of his coat, handing it to Silas who murmured, “I’ll hold it for you.”

  “You do that.” Then he passed over his phone so MacCreedy could take calls from his brothers. “Guess that’s it then. You pick a name for that little guy yet?”

  “It’s not going to be Cale.” After both grinned wide, he said softly, “After my father”.

  “Good.” Cale nodded. “He’d have been honored.”

  “And yours?”

  “Gemma, for Kendra’s mother. She told me something I need you to pass on to Katy.” He relayed the message tersely.

  “That was her,” Nica interjected suddenly. “She was the figure whispering in your ear. I thought the face was familiar.”

  “It’s important that she know. Especially now.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Nica vowed, touching his shoulder briefly.

  The door flap lifted and Casper Lee, resplendent in a kiwi green shirt and white suit, entered, flanked by his companion, Angelo. Icy blue eyes did a leisurely tour over the skin bared by Cale’s tight-fitting tank.

  “You’re looking surprisingly fit, Mr. Terriot. Perhaps you’ve decided you want to win this competition despite your family’s lives being in the balance.”

  “I know what I need to do, and I’m prepared to do it.”

  “Let’s review the rules, shall we. Three rounds. The first will be in this form. In the second, you can let your hair and nails down a bit, but no full transformation. In the third, I’m sorry to say, you’ll be collared so you can’t shift completely. Unfortunately, your opponent will have no such restrictions. Fair? No. But considering the lies you and your friends have strung me along with, I don’t feel too bad about it.”

  “And my mate and sister go free afterwards.”

  “Mr. Creed will be informed of their whereabouts.”

  “Alive. They’ll be alive and well.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m not a monster. But your opponent will be so I suggest you get things over with quickly and spare yourself an unpleasant death.”

  “Been there already, thanks to your little friend.” Cale tugged up the hem of his shirt to expose the lengthy new scar. “And came back for more.”

  Appearing truly disturbed, Lee touched the reminder of what should have been a fatal wound. “Angelo did this?” He turned toward the nervous young man.

  “You were making a fool of yourself over him. He was lying to you, laughing at you behind your back,” Angelo sputtered. “I was protecting you.”

  “From being a fool?” A pale brow arched, and the boy scowled prettily. “Perhaps I was a fool over you, Mr. Terriot. A mistake I will not make again when the next intriguing face and sad story comes along.” And for an instant, a hint of injured vulnerability flickered before masked by a pout. “Enjoy your last moments until Mr. Blutafino arrives.”

  Lee turned and strode toward the exit. Angelo held the flap back for him and in passing, with a movement almost too quick for the eye, Casper’s hand made a slashing gesture, opening up his lover’s throat from ear to ear with the blade concealed in his palm. He pushed the startled boy, causing him to stumble outside and fall back so that the vital spray wouldn’t ruin his white suit. Stepping over the twitching feet, he called out to one of his men, “Get rid of that, and clean up the mess before our guests arrive.”

  *

  Carmen Blutafino appeared a half hour later with his bulky bodyguard Todd, who discreetly waved a hand Silas’s way. The private group of players numbered eight, keeping O’Leary busy shuttling odds and take wagers until an anonymous bet tipped the odds at the last moment. Casper Lee, of course, planning to destroy Manny and claim his territory off a crooked game.

  Cale wasn’t concerned about the first round. Though not in top form, he still was confident. He emerged from the tent and strode toward Lee who was waiting with the cloaked challenger.

  “Gunslinger, meet the Last Mohican.”

  The hood on the silky red robe lowered, revealing a bristling white Mohawk. T-Ray Roux was Lee’s ringer.

  Fury flaring hot, Cale struggled for control. The urge to go right for the other man’s throat shuddered through him, but as long as Lee held Kendra and Tina, he was helpless to vent that righteous rage. Instead, Cale bared his teeth. “We’ve met.”

  Roux regarded him without emotion, any shame well hidden.

  “Gentlemen, into the pool.”

  Cale took his treacherous friend into the deep end and never let him up for air.

  Roux was bigger, heavier, stronger, but Cale, sleek and fast, sweeping in low to explode with strikes from hands and feet, raining punishment until T-ray got in a solid hit of thunder sending him skidding on his back. He rolled to his feet, protecting his side with elbow in close, switching to the use of lightning fast kicks that had Roux staggering. Cale stepped in too close, and T-Ray had him around the neck but only for a second. Cale went up, feet first, and over, until he had T-Ray in the same choke hold, taking him down to his knees where he snarled into his ear, “You fuck. You took my family.”

  “To protect them. To make sure they weren’t killed.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that? From a Guedry? From a sell out to Lee?”

  “Dammit, Cale. It’s not what you think.”

  “Then tell me what it is, you sonuvabitch,” he growled, throwing him down just as the timer ended the first round.

  Roux stumbled to his feet, putting out an entreating hand but Cale slapped it away and leapt up to the pool deck, striding to his dressing room. All signs of the unfortunate Angelo had been scrubbed away. Lee came in right behind him.

  “What was that?” he demanded.

  Cale whirled on him, expression so dangerous Casper took a hop back. “A good show. You want those saps to at least think it’s the real thing, don’t you? If they can’t believe I’m a threat, they’re going to smell a set up. I know what I’m doing and why, so get outta my face!”

  Silas caught him by the back of the shirt and spun him away as Casper brushed down his jacket and his pride.

  “Get him under control and with the program.”

  Silas held onto him until just the three of them were alone then supplied a bottle of water. Cale took several swallows then poured the rest over his head. He was about to explain himself when a sudden blast of pain dropped him to one knee, clutching his temples with the heels of his hands.

  The stifling tent fell away. He spun through darkness without reference or direction. A rumble of sound. A vehicle. The smell of gas, Mexican food, water. Kendra. He breathed her in with a needy gasp.

  One of his hands was pulled away and held palm up. Against his flesh, he felt the deliberate scratching of a fingernail and then a warm kiss to his fingertips. He opened his eyes to find Silas and Nica staring down at him in alarm.

  “Numbers. A ten then five ten. Does that mean anything?”

  Silas’s brow lowered. “I-10? Is she trying to give you a location?

  Cale sat back o
n his haunches, sucking shaky breaths. “I don’t know, but she’s alive. She’s alive.”

  While Nica got him up on a chair and tended his cuts and bruises, MacCreedy was on the phone to Babineau sending them out I-10 where 510 crossed it near Lake Ponchatrain.

  “They’re on it,” he told Cale. “About fifteen minutes out. Can you give them the time?”

  He nodded, wincing at the pounding torment in his head from Kendra’s unskilled connection. He held up his palm. The numbers were still visible. He could taste her lips upon his skin and that was enough to steady his reeling emotions.

  He had to give his brothers time to find her.

  *

  T-Ray came at him with claws out, his eyes unholy black circles. His speed and power were incredible. A swipe of his hand and Cale’s shirt hung in tatters, bloody grooves sliced from chest to ribs. He shucked it off, baring his tortured back to thrill the spectators. Caution became his focus, to stay out of reach and keep that clock ticking.

  Forced on the defensive, movements crowded, options limited, he couldn’t settle into the grove needed for Savoie’s teachings to fall into place. The howl of the crowd humming in his head, his breath rasping, heart pounding with effort and, for the first time, with the fear that he would fail, Cale launched a sudden attack, driving Roux back with everything he had, tearing into him with sharp strikes to the face and punishing kicks to the hard wall of his stomach.

  Until Roux caught his knee.

  A quick jerk had Cale hitting the concrete floor with wind-sapping force. T-Ray was on him, jaws gaping wide, latching onto his thigh where teeth sank to bone. His own scream filling his ears, he battered at Roux’s head with his fists, ripped at his shoulder and gouged for his eyes but couldn’t break his hold. Only the expiration of time could do that.

  Through a red mist of agony, he saw Roux dragged off him. Silas hauled him over his shoulder, carrying him at a conscious-jarring run to lay him out on the table. While Nica struggled to control the bleeding, he gripped MacCreedy by the shirt front, pulling him down close to pant, “Help me. Help me reach her!”