by Abigail Owen
The feeling was crushing, suffocating. Sarai sometimes pictured the scene in Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible, where the town is layering large stones on Giles Corey to get him to confess to being a witch. In that story, all he said was “more weight,” eventually leading to his death.
The fact that her visions often couldn’t be shared with someone else felt like that to her. She was often surprised when she looked in the mirror that she didn’t see the stooped shoulders and a hunched-over back of a woman four times her twenty-five years. Because that’s how she felt most of the time. Old.
Sarai took a deep breath and deliberately put aside her concerns. There was nothing she could do while scrambling eggs. She could, however, do something else.
She finished the bacon and put it on a plate. Taking it to the table on the other side of the kitchen island, she paused a moment to look around the room. “I wanted to apologize to all of you about last night. I was thrown a bit by the idea of bodyguards. Nothing personal. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“No worries, little lady,” George said as he snagged a piece of bacon. “We get it.”
No, you don’t, Sarai thought, but she let it pass.
“Besides, if you cook for us, we’ll forgive you anything.” Scott grinned at her. The other men murmured their agreement.
“That’s what I said,” George added.
“Well, I appreciate your being so understanding.” She shot them all one of her rare real smiles. Something her mother had taught her long ago. An apology sincerely accepted should always be answered with a true smile.
Sarai returned to the kitchen and was just spooning the eggs into a serving dish when Zac came out of his bedroom. All the other men were just sitting down to eat at a table one of them had thoughtfully set, saving Sarai the trouble.
“I thought that was bacon I smelled. Who drew the short straw today?”
The comment went in one ear and out the other. Today Zac was wearing a business suit. Some fancy label if she had to guess and fitted to perfection. She’d seen him at the wedding, decked out in a tux. This was almost as good. The material was gray, the skinny tie pewter to match. It made the gray in his beard look even sexier somehow.
Swallowing hard, she pulled her head back to the conversation. She looked at George. “You weren’t joking about that short straw thing?”
He grinned. “Nope.” Then he turned to Zac. “Our new Seer did the honors, boss.”
Zac said nothing. Just gave her a brief nod of appreciation before sitting down to eat.
Sarai stayed mostly quiet. For once, she fully enjoyed the meal. Usually when Zac was around, her hunger deserted her. She also enjoyed the rowdy back and forth exchanges between these men, who were obviously close friends as well as members of the Timik.
She couldn’t help but notice Zac was the taciturn one of the bunch, rarely talking, even more rarely cracking even a semblance of a smile. She had yet to hear him laugh. Now, she watched as his lips quirked in an odd little half-smile at something George had said. The closest he came to showing any humor at all.
In the midst of a bite of eggs, Sarai felt time freeze in the way it did for her when a vision was coming on. In her mind’s eye, she saw a young woman with dark hair and crystal blue eyes offset by the palest skin Sarai’d ever seen.
I know her. The woman’s name was Tieryn McGraw, and she was Kuharte, like Sarai.
The images came faster now. Multiple in succession—not just one vision, but several and seemingly unrelated. Sarai knew better than to assume that was the case, but she couldn’t yet fit together why these images were coming to her in these pieces.
Gradually, the vision released her from its grip. Thankfully, none of it had been bad or even urgent. Nevertheless she did need to chat with Andie soon. She needed to get in touch with Tieryn. Andie could help her with that. Sarai allowed herself the tiniest intake of air as her sight cleared, almost like mist feathering through a woods. She was suddenly back at the table with Zac and his men. Looking around, she knew no one had suspected or even noticed.
At least, she thought so until she detected Zac’s gaze. He raised his eyebrows in a clear question. He knew. Sarai was shocked. She’d gotten good, over the years, at hiding when her gift struck. She gave him a tiny nod of confirmation, which he seemed to accept.
Eventually, the men stood and started to clear up.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Oliver was the one to stop her from helping. “Around here the cook doesn’t clean.”
Sarai smiled. “I like that rule.”
Under the cover of the bustle, Sarai moved over by Zac. “I need to call Andie so she can connect me to one of the dares.”
“So that was a vision?”
She nodded.
“All right. I’ll get you a phone before I go.”
She gave him a small smile of thanks. After a quick glance over her shoulder to see the rest of the guys in the kitchen, she turned back to him. “You really like these guys, don’t you?”
He glanced away from the plates he was stacking to raise his eyebrows at her. “What makes you say that?”
“They amuse you.”
He grunted, which she took as a yes. “I grew up with them.”
“Trust them all completely?” Her glanced strayed to Scott, who was at the sink rinsing off dirty dishes.
He paused in his task to frown at her. “Why would you even ask?”
“No reason. Just getting the lay of the land.”
He gave her a long hard look before resuming clearing the table. “Yes. I trust them completely.” He turned his back on her and headed to the kitchen.
Sarai felt as if she’d maybe stepped on his toes a bit, but wasn’t entirely sure why or how to fix it. She didn’t get the chance. Zac and the others scattered to get ready to leave.
Sarai grabbed the magazine she’d purchased at the airport the day before and curled up on the oversized couch covered in some kind of gold-colored chenille-like material.
On his way out, Zac stopped in front of where she sat. Without a word, he handed her first a phone. Then, before she could thank him, he gave her a box.
She flipped it over in her hands, then looked up at him in bewilderment. “What’s this?”
“An e-reader.”
She frowned, confused. “You’re giving me an e-reader?”
“Yeah. So you can read books in your sun room.”
Sarai gaped at him for several moments. Apparently he’d heard her comment the day before and had immediately done something about it. She didn’t know how to feel about that, let alone what to say.
Somehow, seeing him with his men today, witnessing his dedication to his Timik and to Andie despite his own losses had touched something deep inside her. But this one small gesture of caring for her needs in such a simple way…
She had spent her life focused on one thing—and one thing only—her own survival. When she held herself up against Zac’s example of survival, loyalty, and leadership, she found herself sadly lacking. Not only that, but her gift more often than not brought sadness or pain, rather than aid.
Sarai suddenly knew exactly what she had to do.
He abruptly handed her a piece of paper, yanking her out of her thoughts. “This is all the account information you’ll need to hop on my laptop over there. Order any books you want. It’s a secure connection.”
Finally Sarai found her tongue. “Th…thank you,” she stuttered. Still stunned at his thoughtfulness.
He held up his hands, obviously uncomfortable. “Thank George. He went out to get it for you last night.”
But I’d bet you asked him to, she thought. Still, Sarai twisted in her seat on the couch. “Thank you, George. Very appreciated.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
“Sarai, please. Ma’am makes me feel about eighty years old.”
George chuckled. “All right then.”
Zac cleared his throat, pulling her gaze back around to him. “I’
ll be out dealing with various business needs for the Timik most of the time we’re here. These are often fairly long visits.”
“How long this time?”
“A month. Six weeks at most.”
Sarai hid her grimace. Still, that gave her time to get away. Going rogue was her only option, the one she’d chosen at least. Now she just had to disappear to do it. Being in New York potentially gave her more options as to how to go about it.
“Scott and George will be here if you need them or if you want to go out. Don’t—”
Sarai held up a hand. “Yeah. I get it. Don’t go anywhere without them. They’re like American Express that way.”
He just looked at her.
“You know…never leave home without it? Big advertising slogan of theirs for years?”
When he continued to look at her, she rolled her eyes. “Never mind,” she muttered. “Got it. I won’t go anywhere without my new shadows.”
When he continued to just stand there, unamused, she wrinkled her nose and sighed. “What?”
He crossed his arms. Dragging her eyes away from the lovely display of muscles, she fervently wished he wouldn’t do that.
“Promise me.”
Damn, she thought. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you trying to run off on them. Or me.”
He was too close for comfort. Sarai went on the defensive. “And go where exactly? Going rogue is not exactly an option for me. None of the dares are options. That only leaves you…I know you’ll protect me.”
“Promise me.”
Apparently she wasn’t as convincing as she’d thought. God, the man was unmovable as a mountain when he wanted to be. Bet he moves in bed. Sarai pushed the errant thought right out of her head. What the hell was wrong with her?
She released a dramatic, put-upon sigh. “I promise I won’t try to run off.” Nope, she’d succeed when she found the right opportunity. Like Yoda once said, “Do. Or do not. There is no try.” So, technically that wouldn’t be breaking her promise. Right? Sarai cringed inwardly. She hated lying. Protecting Zac from his fate, even at the cost of her own life, was a goal that filled her with righteous purpose. She’d do whatever she had to.
Somehow.
CHAPTER 9
“No, I don’t know where they took her.” Kyle opened his mouth in a silent hiss of frustration, his cougar’s teeth dropping down, giving him a fearsome appearance. Mick, the only person in the room with him, cringed as he listened to Kyle’s side of the conversation.
“Well, if I’d known they’d give their most powerful Kuharte to a group of mangy polar bear shifters, I’d have—”
He cut off as he listened to the person on the other end of the line.
“What are they saying?” Mick asked.
Kyle made a slashing motion with his hand, irritated at being interrupted.
Mick, a large and brawny man, shut his mouth and watched in silence. A fact Kyle appreciated in a backward way. He expected nothing less. Mick was one of the cougar shifters from Kyle’s old dare who’d remained loyal, following him when he’d left so precipitously.
“No.” Kyle spoke into the phone. “There was no opportunity to get her at the wedding. The place was too heavily guarded, and I was just getting close enough to the compound when she left.”
He listened some more.
As the tirade pummeling his ears continued, Kyle’s eyes glazed over. He stared, unseeing, at the rough log walls of the cabin where he’d holed up deep in the Alaskan wilderness. Or been exiled to, was more accurate. They’d really found him a shack to stay in this time. The log siding was raw cut, making the whole place reek of pine. He never could stand that smell, but he wasn’t focused on that. No, his mind was on how he’d come to be here at all.
If that bitch, Andie, hadn’t run away, he wouldn’t be here right now. Instead, he should be leading his own dare, preferably the Keller dare. That had been the plan. Then the woman he’d deemed worthy to be his mate had gone traitor on him, bringing Jaxon Keller’s attention down on them before they were ready.
Suddenly what was being said sank in to his consciousness.
“You want me to go where?”
He ignored Mick’s raised eyebrows, just happy the guy stayed silent, probably not willing to risk Kyle’s ire.
“Fine,” Kyle barked.
He listened to the rest of the instructions.
“We’ll leave tomorrow then.”
With leashed violence, he slammed the satellite phone back down onto its charger.
Mick wisely waited a long couple of minutes as Kyle did nothing—there was no tantrum throwing or punching through walls. That wasn’t his style. Instead he leaned his knuckles against the single table in the room and breathed, holding back his cougar.
“They want us to change locations,” he eventually gritted between clenched teeth. “Go to eastern Canada.”
“Why?”
“They’ve got some kind of base already established close to the polar bear Timik.”
At Mick’s confused frown, Kyle expanded. “Seems they were aware of some treaty between the Timik and the Keller Dare. Sarai’s part of it. She’s been assigned to live with those damn bears as some kind of sign of good faith in the treaty.”
“What’s the Coalition’s plan?” Mick asked.
The Coalition to which he was referring were Kyle’s partners, and, these days, his protectors. With their help, one day Kyle would be the one and only Alpha of the Shadowcat Nation. No more Alpha Council. Each dare would report directly to him or they would be eliminated. That’s what he’d been promised.
Kyle shook his head, still dissatisfied with the conversation he’d just had. Then he answered Mick’s question. “They’re preparing to stage an attack, take out that alliance before it becomes well established.”
“You can’t say they’re not smart.”
Kyle glared him. “Yes, they’re smart. They’re also cowards—getting us, the wolves, the coyotes, even the grizzlies, to do all their dirty work.”
“Then why are we aligning with them?” Mick asked.
Kyle smiled with cold satisfaction. “I have no desire to go rogue. I’ve been promised…certain things.”
Mick nodded, that explanation seeming to be enough for him. Another reason Kyle kept him around—the man didn’t question, just followed blindly. It helped that Kyle had saved Mick from numerous beatings growing up.
He’d been a scrawny, wimpy little kid, late to grow, but Sarai had once told Kyle that Mick would save his life. That had been when she’d first come to his dare as a trusting little girl. No longer though. However, her warning had made him help Mick out as a child. That Mick had grown into a massive cougar and a mean fighter had been an added bonus.
“Andie really messed things up when she killed your father,” Mick commented.
Kyle felt rage boil up inside him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he backhanded the cougar shifter, extending his claws as he did, though deliberately careful to strike with the curved side of the edges. He left three long welts across the man’s face.
“Next time you say her name I turn my hand so the claws catch you with the pointy ends,” Kyle snarled.
Mick covered his face with his hand. “Yes, sir.”
“Leave,” Kyle ordered.
Mick immediately about-faced and left the room. Kyle shook his head. Mick was less than useless when it came to brains, but the man was a brute. More important, he was loyal.
Kyle walked back to the desk and dropped into the seat behind it. He ran a finger over the grain of the very basic wood. With a hiss, he pulled his hand back to discover a long splinter in the pad of his thumb. They hadn’t exactly stuck him in the lap of luxury. At least this was only temporary.
Mick had been wrong about Andie messing things up for him. Sarai had done that.
True, his father, the Alpha of the Carstairs Dare, had been killed by Andie in a direct challenge for rule. Kyle had challenged Jaxon that sam
e day, but when his father had gone down, he’d known he couldn’t win, even if he beat Keller. Not with Andie running his father’s dare. Therefore, he’d run. Better to live and conquer another day.
He knew Sarai had used her powers to orchestrate as much as she could, resulting in his eventual downfall. He’d heard her voice calling from the back of the crowd, subtly letting Andie know she’d win if she fought. Traitorous bitch. She’d pay. Right after he whelped a cub off her. A new little Seer under his complete control. Something his backers desired as well.
Still, as much as he hated both Andie and Sarai, their machinations did accomplish one thing he hadn’t been able to. They’d cleared his father out of his way. As long as Walter Carstairs had lived, Kyle would never have become Alpha.
CHAPTER 10
Zac entered the hotel suite to find it empty. Sarai must’ve decided to go out and explore the city after all. After several days of hanging around the apartment just reading, according to George, she’d obviously needed to get out. Cougars didn’t handle confinement well. They were too solitary and needed too much room for that.
Pulling out his cell phone, he texted George. “Where are you?”
“Down in the gym.”
She’d let the guys get in a workout? That was nice of her. He started walking back toward the elevator.
“What’s Sarai doing?”
“Practicing.”
Zac paused, his eyebrows raised.
“Practicing what?”
“Come see for yourself.”
Zac frowned but headed down to the basement, where the building gym was located. He saw George and Scott first. Neither man was working out. Instead, they sat off to the side watching. Zac moved a little further into the room then stilled, arrested by the sight that greeted his eyes.
Sarai stood in the center of a black rubber mat in front of a martial arts dummy. She was wearing a pair of black shorts that showed off exactly how long and toned her legs were. She also wore a sports bra with no shirt. Zac pulled his mind away from what the sight of all that skin was doing to his body and keyed in on the fact that anyone with half a brain could see exactly how fit she was. He doubted there was an ounce of fat anywhere on her lean body.
