by J. C RIMELL
Just for now, Eve thought happily, I'll pretend he's mine.
§
Fleet studied Madoc for several long minutes while she sat coolly composed on the other side of his desk. He was Alpha, and as such, he knew when a member of the pack was unwell mentally. It was never physical ailments that bothered his shifters, being supernatural beings gave them pretty healthy lives.
No, it was matters of the heart and of the soul that affected pack.
He would never interfere in personal affairs unless it broke pack rules. Inflicted on the pack, or caused mental, or physical pain to any member of the pack, or another being.
Looking at Madoc, he could see her cheekbones were more pronounced than usual. Her athletic curves had slimmed down, and mostly, he noticed that the special sparkle in her eyes, in her personality, had diminished. And little did she realize, he also knew where the root of her pain stemmed from.
“I can sense Murphy's healing well,” Fleet said, easing back into his seat.
She nodded. “He'll be okay in a day or two.”
“That's good, real good to hear. I'll check in on him shortly.” His head tilted and held her gaze with a questioning look. “I think you should take some time off,” he said, swiveling side to side in his worn out leather chair. “You don't look so good, sweetheart.”
She grunted. “Jeez, thanks, chief.”
His gaze narrowed. “Whatever it is between you and Ryker,” he hedged, holding her surprised glare when it shifted back up to meet his eyes, “get it sorted out, and quick. We need you fit and healthy, the pack relies on you.” Getting up he made his way around his desk to where she was sitting. “And so do I.”
Madeleine swallowed, “I should have known better than to think I'd manage to hide my innermost feelings from you.” Her gaze turned skeptical. “My firewall's been shaky at best, I bet a pound to a penny most of the pack know too.”
He shook his head sensing her apprehension. “Nobody else knows. I've used my alpha bond to help protect you mentally.” He tugged her hand, pulling her to her feet and into a tender bear hug. She needed touch, reassurance.
A sob hitched in the back of her throat, but she refused to cry. He sheltered her in the warmth of his arms, like a father holding his daughter. Made her feel loved and not so alone, despite shutting everyone out, Fleet would never allow it, would never lose one of Shadow Pack.
He sensed her gratitude that he had used his alpha bond and strength to protect her when she'd been too wrapped up in being stubborn to even realize it.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he let her go. “This… thing, between me and Ryker is complicated.”
Fleet sighed deeply. “Ain't love a bitch, huh?” He caught her gaze and held it, disallowing her to look away. “I'm no expert when it comes to love.” His own heart was locked well and truly behind an impenetrable cage, the key to which was thrown away with his ability to ever love again. “I know the two of you couldn't be better matched, but there's the issue of pack law and you've both made the pledge.”
She snorted. “Really? Well, if that were true, our wolves would know and I'm quite sure Ryker's wolf doesn't seem to think I'm the one. Besides,” she continued with an exasperated sigh, “I understand that we're bound by pack law, in a way I'm grateful for it.”
Madeleine had a point, he had to admit, the mating bond was strong, instinctive. “It comes down to fate, it's as simple as that, with or without the laws that bind us.” Ever since Cade had defied the Society's laws and mated with Kit, Fleet could see big changes on the horizon.
Madeleine sighed under the emotional weight. “I think fate has other plans for us.”
His hands shifted to his hips. “Perhaps.” He watched her expression change to one more pensive. “What are you waiting to tell me?”
Madeleine hesitated, “Changing the subject,” she said looking rather sheepish, “I've had an idea about the Others.”
He sensed the subject was obviously a difficult one to broach as the silence stretched. “Well, spit it out, Madoc, I'm getting old here,” Fleet prompted after his patience began to ebb.
“I think I've found a way to cure Seth and his brothers,” she finally said in a rush.
“Okay, you've got my full attention, now what aren't you telling me?”
“If we use pack blood to help the ancient walkers, they could be free from the torment of their vampiric tendencies. Our blood could cure them.”
The Overseer entered the Shadow Packs' compound and headed straight for Fleet's office. Things were spiraling out of control and he could feel the ground shifting beneath his feet with no way to stop the momentum of it.
There were now seven Other supernatural walker/vampires being held together in the packs' holding cells, along with a female vampire in another. A pack member had been attacked by a rogue and it was playing on his mind the most. It had been many years since rogues ventured this close to Society territory. And the fact one had the nerve to carry out an attack on a member left a smoldering fury unfurling beneath his skin.
A quick knock on the alpha's office door before he entered. “I see everything is ready for the ceremony,” he said, undoing the button to his single-breasted jacket before taking a seat opposite Fleet.
Fleet dropped the pen onto the report he'd been writing, blowing out a breath. “It was, but all things considered we've decided to put it back for now.” He leaned back, lacing his fingers in his lap, studied the turbulent sea in the stormy gray eyes of the Overseer.
“I take it you've dealt with Kit's aunt?”
Fleet nodded. “It's been taken care of.”
“Good. And how are the plans coming along for the undercover operation in France?”
“Discovering Simeon Chaput is a vampire has made things slightly complicated. It'll take a couple more weeks at the least. Nevada will lead the investigation over there and I think Jack should go with her.”
“The sooner the better, we can't let this shark get away.” The Overseer's gaze turned pensive. “Now, tell me about this cure Madoc has come up with.”
“It sounds like a sure thing, but it takes a certain kind of blood, shifter blood to be exact,” he paused as fiery eyes held his. “It need's to be tested first to be a hundred percent sure… she's waiting for the go ahead.”
A muttered curse left the Overseer's lips, the storm now raging in the deep gray depths of his eyes. “I don't like it.”
“Neither do I,” Fleet replied, already having given the notion some thought. “But I'd rather have these other supernatural beings with us than against us and not dependent on human lives.”
The Overseer blew out a frustrated sigh. “You're right, but I want them kept in our custody after this change takes place so we can clearly see what we're dealing with. Only when we are hundred percent sure, can we even consider releasing them into the world again.”
Fleet nodded. “Agreed.”
“And Fleet,” the Overseer's intelligent eyes met those of the alpha sitting before him. “Madoc will only use blood taken from submissive shifters.”
Fleet's brows crashed together. “That would mean samples taken from maternal females at Silver Skies.”
“Better that, than having the strength of blood from our dominants. That would be like handing them a grenade launcher instead of a pistol.”
“Point taken. Kit is due to spend some time with the maternal females, she can collect the samples then.”
“Very well. On another matter, I had a call late last night from Mitch Stevens,” the Overseer informed Fleet.
“Mitch from the Freedom Union?”
“The very same,” he nodded. “It seems there are unsettled members. Mainly youngsters who are grouping together and becoming unsociable.”
Fleet's gaze tapered. “It's been a long time since we crossed paths with the F.U rogues, did he tell you the cause for the unrest?”
The Overseer rubbed his chin, his shrewd eyes meeting Fleet's. “Not in so many words. From what
I can read between the lines, the youngsters are forming some kind of fraction, to go up against the Society.”
Fleet cursed. “I'll get Snow and Cade to take a look, do some digging around.”
The Overseer stood up and straightened his jacket. “Do that. I have Elijah and Vincent going up to meet with Mitch this week, I'll get them to liaise here afterward.”
Nine
Zach and his brothers were taken to the holding cells. He didn't like the idea of being captured or under anyone's thumb again, but he needed to see if Seth and Daniel were here. Refusing to leave them, he and his brothers had agreed to be taken by the pack of shifters.
A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him outside of one of the cells. Glancing behind, he saw Daniel rise from the bed he was sitting on and rushed over to the glass wall separating the two of them.
“Zach?”
Zach approached the glass, conscious of the intense eyes of shifter soldiers watching his every move. “Brother, you're safe?” he asked, noting that Daniel looked well.
“I am,” Daniel smiled. “It's okay, Zach, they're trying to help us.”
Zach's eyes narrowed. “Seth?”
Daniel nodded. “He's here. He's fine.”
Releasing a sigh of relief, Zach felt the weight of Abel's hand on his shoulder, heard the quiet words of his brothers stood behind him.
“Okay, the reunion's over… some of us have work to do,” Gunner grunted. “Move it.”
Zach saw a strange look flash across Daniel's eyes. Wheeling round he met the red-headed shifter's gaze. Staring at him with hard, inquisitive eyes, Zach realized the shifter was jealous. He chuckled, his smile holding an edge of cruelty.
Gunner's face turned thunderous. “What's so goddamn funny?”
Zach shook his head, the grin still firmly in place. “There's no need to be jealous. I'm not his type, my friend.”
Gunner lunged forward, his fist flying through the air like a guided missile striking Zach square on the jaw. A spray of blood from his split lip peppered the glass as he fell backward. Abel caught him and thrust him forward giving him the momentum to dive into Gunner and tackle him to the floor.
They were quickly pulled apart by Fleet and Ryker. The air was tense, thick with male aggression. Gunner had partly shifted, his claws were at their full length, his fangs were razors in his mouth, and his eyes were molten lava in his head.
Ryker and Fleet's fangs and eyes had changed too, the threat to one of their own causing their wolves to surface.
Zach stood compliant, held in a restraining grip by Fleet.
“Tell your brothers to back the hell off… Now,” the alpha growled out through clenched teeth. “Trust me… If you want to pursue this… you'll lose,” he added on the end of the feral sound.
“Too damn right!” Gunner spat out, getting to his feet.
Fleet gave him a scolding look and telepathically told him to “shut the fuck up.”
Zach knew his brothers were also prepared to fight. But with a shake of his head, he told his brothers to ease off. They followed his command but their gazes remained wary all the same.
“For now, we have no choice but to keep you here.” Fleet turned Zach around to look at him. “We're working on something that just may help you. Now,” he said, his authoritative tone grasping everyone's attention, “Can I trust you to keep your goddamn hands to yourself?”
Zach held the warm, yet heated gaze of the alpha before turning his head to Daniel who nodded for him to agree. He chewed the inner muscle of his cheek, spat out the mouthful of blood from his busted lip on the floor by the alpha's feet. Disgruntled, but having little choice he gave a quick nod. “You have the trust of my two brothers, that will have to be enough… for now.”
§
Murphy was on a bed in the infirmary. That much he had guessed. His back hurt like a bitch, that much he knew for certain. How he'd gotten there was about as clear as mud.
He opened an eye a fraction. His vision was blurry, but he could tell the lighting was low. It was quiet except for the sound of steady breathing. His eyes flicked open fully, the haze cleared, and he saw Eve curled up in a chair beside his gurney, sleeping.
One side of his face was pressed against the pillow and he moved it to a better angle so he could look at her fully.
God, she's so lovely. It was the first time he'd witnessed her being so still and quiet. He always thought of her as a butterfly: Always on the go, a restless soul with such grace and beauty. Her energy was calm, but he picked up the uneasy vibes of her worry.
Her eyes opened suddenly, their ice-blue so clear and intense they burned right through him with a white-hot flash of heat and caused his breath to stop.
“Oh, hey,” she said with a yawn and stretched out like a cat. He watched her athletic limbs extend; the curve of her waist, her pert breasts push up tight against the fabric of her T-shirt.
He cleared his throat and ignored the lengthening of his cock. “How long have you been sitting there?”
She shuffled forward to the edge of the seat and glanced at her watch. “Um, about nine hours.”
Bringing up his hands, he pushed down onto the mattress and tried to lift himself up into a sitting position. He felt her hands on his bicep, like a soothing balm it melted away the pain.
“Whoa, not too fast.”
“I'm fine,” he lied. Truth was, he felt like volcanic lava was slowly burning its way through his back and melting his bones, but he sensed Samil was also recovering.
“I think Madoc would disagree.”
Turning to face her, his hair was a curtain partially obscuring his view, but he could see her cheeks were flushed and her eyes drinking in his naked body. Her sexual energy was a physical, palpable thing between them and she was struggling to hide it from him.
Ah, Jesus. “You can leave… I'm okay.”
Her hands fell to her sides. “I don't think—”
“—I said I'm fine!” he snapped, his voice like glass against his throat.
She stepped away from him. His sharpness had wounded her and he felt her pain like the twist of a knife in his chest.
“I'll get Madoc then,” she said, leaving at a fast clip.
Eve turned away from him and left the Medical room in search of Madoc. She stomped her way through the tunnel, her emotions flitting between hurt and anger. Why was he such an ass! Why did she have to be so attracted to him?! To him! Why not someone else who wanted her back? Was there something wrong with her? Wasn't she pretty enough? Voluptuous enough? Oh, wait a minute… She wasn't old enough!
She may be younger than him, but she was old enough. Despite only just going through her transition, she was plenty old enough to date, to drive, have sex… she rolled her eyes…. don't think about sex!
Reaching Madoc's quarters, she knocked.
“It's open.”
Entering the doctor's room, she tried to mask her grumpy expression with one more at ease. “Hey, Madoc,” she said, walking through the small contained kitchen toward the sitting area where the doctor was sitting munching away on Malteasers. “Things that bad you needed the family size bag?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she replied popping another into her mouth. “Want some? You look a little troubled yourself there, Eve.”
Eve wrinkled her nose, she never did have a good poker face. “Sure, why the hell not.” She sat with a humph on the small sofa and dipped her hand in the bag. “Murphy's awake.”
“Ah.”
Eve met the doctor's gaze. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It's written all over your face, sweetie. It has been for quite some time,” she paused, crunched away on a few more of the chocolate delights, then continued. “Look, I know first hand what it feels like to be attracted to a dominant male, and Murphy, well, he's...”
“He's what?”
“He's deep, Eve. I'm not sure how any woman would be able to tame that one.”
After a short silence and half a packet of
Malteasers later, Eve had to ask. “Who is it…the male you're attracted to?”
She held Madoc's eyes, suddenly they seemed to glisten with moisture. “It doesn't matter, it can't happen… the same way it can't happen for you and Murphy. We made the pledge, Eve, and that's all there is to it.”
“But Cade and Kit, they—”
“—Their circumstances were different.”
Eve looked away, a fierce fist squeezed her heart. She knew Madoc was right, but she had a fire inside of her for Murphy she couldn't even begin to douse. “Doesn't matter anyway, he doesn't think I'm woman enough, old enough...Whatever.”
Madoc stroked her arm in comfort. “Men are idiots, Eve. You're a goddamn knockout, anyone with half a brain can see that.”
She smiled at Madoc's attempt at cheering her up, gave a nod. “You planning on hogging the rest of that bag to yourself or what?”
“I'm willing to trade for a tub of Ben and Jerry's,” Madeleine chuckled, but the smile in her eyes soon faded and her expression turned sober. “Eve, I need to ask you something.”
Eve turned in her seat to face her fully. “What is it?”
Several seconds passed before Madeleine answered. “I want you to find one of my memories.” Her eyes lowered, and a frown creased her brow as though she was deep in her own thoughts. “There's so much I can't remember about the night I was attacked. I have the same nightmare every night, yet so much seems to be missing.”
Eve took a hold of her hand. “Only if you're sure. I may not find the answers you're looking for, though, Madoc. The whole reason you don't remember could be because they are buried way too deep.”
She nodded. “I know. Please, Eve, will you give it a try?”
“Sure, but Madoc,” Eve paused, she needed her friend to understand that she may see things unintentionally. “I can't always avoid seeing things that you may want to keep private.”
Madeleine sighed heavily. “It's okay. I trust you, Eve. Tell you what, I'll keep your secrets if you'll keep mine. Deal?”
