Love's Subterfuge (Warrior Camp Book 12)

by Flynn Eire

  “Shit, they’re calling him ‘pup?’” someone hissed, and everyone settled down, realizing there was no chance to do anything against us.

  “Let us start this meeting over then,” Alexander offered as he sheathed his sword. “As you would undoubtedly be angry at someone who bypassed your security and showed up on your porch, you can forgive our reaction, as we didn’t know visitors were coming.”

  “I sent word months ago,” Helios defended when he got a shit look from the head of the camp. “I had no idea, either, or that I even got any of them.”

  “Fine, but I would like coffee before discussing what they’ve found. Our food is quite good here, and you must need to replenish after your journey,” Alexander offered, gesturing to the door into the main building.

  “When he says it like that, I feel downright rude,” Morggyan grumbled.

  I didn’t disagree, but there was always more to any of this than younger vampires—even warriors—knew. Alexander was good, stopping by ops and calling for a few to recover what we’d brought from nests and giving succinct orders on how to handle and catalog what it all was and who would handle mapping out where the nests had been after we were fed. He was one of the more impressive heads of warrior camps I’d ever met.

  “Oh, an empath,” Proximo chuckled when we reached the cafeteria, focused on a shorter, stunning woman. “They’re always so much fun, but not normally in such nice packages. Why is a female one at a male camp?” He moved closer and studied her intently, smirking much to her discomfort.

  “Not why we’re here, Proximo,” I reminded him.

  “Her fear is intoxicating,” he purred, and Gary, the eldest post-trans, moved in front of her.

  “This is why people don’t like you guys,” Helios sighed.

  “No, people don’t like us because we’re powerful,” I corrected, elevating my voice so everyone in the cafeteria could hear us. “As if there is something wrong with us for having survived so long.” I narrowed my eyes at Ms. Neal. “As I have even heard you say so assuredly that with age comes insanity. Yes, some can go insane, but you also are smart enough to know that many humans are completely nuts and haven’t even lived as long as you have. Experiences can make the person unhinged, no matter the length of life.

  “And every other century it’s one council or another that decides that us ancient ones are more threat than of any use because we cannot be controlled. Don’t fool yourselves in thinking it’s something noble. It’s not. Assholes want power and don’t want there to be power they can’t control. So while Proximo poked at you, it was in reaction to what you did the moment we came into the room, offering no violence or anything bad, having showed up with word we took out three zakasac nests close to you.”

  “Fear isn’t always logical,” she replied, moving her son behind her. “I apologize for my behavior, and you’re right, there are crazy people of all ages. My only knowledge of ancients or Wyrok was the one who terrorized my coven, stalks it now, and murdered my grandmother, trying to rape my mother when she was a child of ten. You would react as I did too.”

  “I apologize for my behavior then,” Proximo muttered, bowing before her. “As an empath, you know how hard it is to walk into a room where the emotions are spiking. For me, who feels and can control fear, it is overwhelming, hurtful even, and that is why we stay to ourselves.”

  “Yes, that would be hard,” she agreed, nodding. She moved closer and extended her hand. “I’m Marissa Neal, my son is training here, and to answer your question as to why I’m here, I’ve been asked to work with several camps to help their warriors, as I’m a massage therapist and have training in sports medicine, which can help those who don’t rehabilitate themselves well. You all put a lot of strain on your bodies.”

  “A pleasure, Marissa,” he murmured as he kissed her hand. “You are the one that started the trouble with covens pulling their people into the estates. Wise.”

  “You know about that?” Helios asked, and we all shot him a look not to be stupid. He let out a heavy sigh. “How long have you been checking out the camp?”

  “Let us sit and eat before we get into all of that,” Alexander interjected, gesturing to the cafeteria line. “Marissa, welcome back. I would ask you work with some of our younger warriors who have emerging gifts today as the three—”

  “Five,” Proximo cut in. “You have five who are having gifts come out here. I’ve felt and know their fear.”

  Alexander muttered several interesting curse combinations as he bobbed his head. “Marissa, I would ask you have a meeting with all warriors without an acknowledged gift, include the post-trans, and have a conversation with them. I would like them to at least tell you, and you have my promise that no one will become a weapon or spy or anything else unless they want to. Someone with experience needs to know, though, and as you have spoken to me about helping the ones coming into their gifts, I ask you guide them.”

  She gave a deep nod. “It would be my pleasure. I agree that they need a safe environment to discuss even if they think they’re getting their gift because I know a few who thought they were tired or distracted and not paying attention. Or not wanting to bother the too busy warriors here, as you are down people and no one is sitting around counting their toes.”

  We noticed the nasty look Alexander shot Helios, and I rolled my eyes. Great, the Wyrok here was recruiting weapons from young warriors, and it was causing chaos. Idiot.

  “You were right about this camp head, Alastair,” Morggyan commended, studying Alexander closely. “He truly cares, is commanding but not overbearing. He is worth the reputation.”

  “The West Coast one was not,” Proximo drawled and then flinched. “Well, there’s a lot of fear around that subject. It’s been handled.”

  “You took care of it?” I checked, smiling when he did.

  “How did you take care of it?” Helios demanded, fire filling his eyes.

  “We don’t just knock off our own people, Helios,” I drawled.

  “Sometimes we do,” Morggyan argued as she picked up a tray. “When they deserve it.”

  “This one deserved it, but the situation needed to come to light or the next in charge would just do the same thing.” Proximo met Helios’s gaze. “I delivered the camp leader and enough evidence of what he was doing—everything from making pre-trans ‘disappear’ that he found lacking, to video footage of him abusing several supposedly gay pre- and post-trans, egging others to join them—to Wyrok headquarters along with a recommendation to shut down their training program. I let them know Alastair had a lead on a non-corrupt camp they maybe should come to.”

  “Eastern Canada’s camp isn’t corrupt, simply lazy and inept. I made the same recommendation to close it down,” Basilia updated us. “And their rate of pre-trans making it is horrid. I mean, they should be flogged for their lack of dedication or caring about the people they are meant to protect.” She glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. “Where is this pre-trans trainer you said did so well here? I wish to shadow him and see where he needs improvement.”

  “My Dimika is the finest any pre-trans program has ever had,” Alexander bristled, and Basilia gave him a smirk.

  “I did not mean any offense against your mate, as we all could use help. I’m hoping someone will show me how to use these confounded encrypted phones. I mean, really, they’re too much. Why do I need so many fucking apps?”

  Alexander’s lips twitched. “I’ve had the same thought many times. Dimitri was in Seattle at the request of the West Coast Council to review their training program. Now that it has been shut down or whatever, I will find out if he’s coming home.”

  “And get counseling for your mating because your fear you’re losing him is overwhelming,” Proximo worried, giving me an unnerved look.

  Alexander bobbed his head. “Yes, as you said, we can all use help. Too much has happened here without much needed help, and we’re all stretched too thin.”

  “Which we’ve all been through,” I
assured him, not wanting to make it like our side versus their side. He gave a slow nod as did my friends.

  “Dude, you got another present,” Zibon’s friend, Mark, announced loudly. I turned to see Zibon enter the cafeteria, holding back a smile at simply laying eyes on him. All my years, all the darkness inside of me, and how dead my heart was almost every day of the year, and this one young warrior touched me from the moment I’d seen him sobbing on one of their obstacle courses that he’d killed a vampire who had tried to bite his friend. The way he cared after having been through too much so young was touching.

  “Really?” Zibon asked excitedly, glancing around.

  “Yeah, we brought in one of the six of these that were delivered,” Mark explained, nodding to the huge, hundred-liter, cold shipping chest as they hurried over there. “Drake says they’re all the same. He had the dogs sniff it because, well, yeah, you’ll see why.”

  “This is too crazy,” Zibon whispered, touching the container lovingly. “I don’t get why me? I mean, I’m—yeah, it’s Crazytown.”

  “Open it before we all burst,” Wally, his other friend, pushed. I’d gotten to know most of the warriors or at least their names in the months I’d been checking in on this and other camps.

  Zibon unlatched the top and pushed open the lid, turning his head one way and then the other to make sense of what he was seeing. He let out a huge yelp and stumbled away from the container, landing on his ass. He pointed to it as he glanced around at his friends. “It moved. One of them moved.”

  “Yeah, it says right here on the label they’re live crabs,” London chuckled as he and his fiancé, Drake, joined them. “And for the record, I’m stealing at least one to feed to Drake’s boys.”

  “There are six of these?” Zibon whispered as Wally helped him back up. “Seriously?”

  “It’s like breakfast theater,” Proximo joked quietly.

  “It is an entertaining camp, that is for sure,” I assured them.

  “Dude, we need to have crab races,” Lance suggested, moving closer. “Let them defrost and race them across the cafeteria.”

  “No way,” Zibon argued, shivering. “I love crab, but I don’t want to see them act more spider with fucking claws. Alaskan king crabs are too awesome to risk wasting. I mean, this is like a fortune in them. And six containers? I’m not worth this.”

  “Hey, shut your mouth,” Mark bitched. “That’s our friend you’re talking about. You are, Zibon, that’s the whole point I think your admirer is making.”

  “Point made,” he muttered, taking the card from his friend. He smiled, and an actual giggle escaped his lips before he hurried to put it in his pocket when his friends demanded to see it. He glanced up and froze when he finally saw all of us.

  Me specifically. I gave him the quickest of winks before turning to Alexander and Helios. “One of your young warriors came up with an amazing idea I overheard to help move progress forward instead of risking our people more.” I gestured to Zibon. “You, the one next to the gorgeous tall one. The one who fell on his ass, come here.” After a moment he did, frowning at us.

  “It’s okay, Zibon, they’re friends,” Helios assured him, but I realized it was more Zibon was lost on the array of gifts standing before him. “This is Lord Alastair MacPaden.”

  “Which means your father’s name is Paden, if I remember my history right,” Zibon muttered, giving me an appraising look. It was the first real time he’d seen me not cloaking myself or part of my appearance in shadows.

  “Very good, yes, that is the way Scots used to have surnames. My father was Paden. He passed thousands of years ago.”

  “He was a good man, a good fighter. A father any would be proud of,” Morggyan praised, dipping her head in respect of his memory. “What was the idea the young warrior came up with?”

  I gestured for Zibon to tell us, and he simply shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of, sorry. I have tons of ideas, and most are sarcastic, so there could be an array of what you overheard if you’ve been checking out the camp.”

  I smirked at him. “I believe this was a sarcastic one as well, but it was good.” I focused on Helios and Alexander, taking in their curious expressions. “He suggested building a whole private subdivision on land next to the camp. It would keep our people who need protection together without risking the potential to become nests at the coven estates. He said humans do it, which I didn’t know. They could look like rich, exclusive mansions on the outside but have suites for people like apartments inside.”

  “Who would know they weren’t a one-family mansion?” Proximo agreed, giving a slow nod. “It’s smart. If it’s done the right way, it’s smart. It would explain security and much more.”

  “That would take a lot of money. An astounding amount of money,” Alexander muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Me and my friends burst out laughing. I got myself together first and answered his concern. “We have money. My sole job for many, many years was to use my persuasion to get the money our people needed. How do you all think you get paid? It is not by the councilmembers, as most are too selfish. The covens keep the money given them by their people even if they offer little protection.” I gestured to my friends. “We set up the system in place and keep the funds coming in to pay you instead of simply using warriors.”

  Alexander let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he picked up a tray. “I am no young pup. I’m not a fan of constantly learning nothing was what I was told or trained. It grates on my nerves.”

  “And upsets you that you told so many the wrong thing, but that is not lying to your mate, Alexander,” Proximo said gently as we followed after Alexander to get food. “We do the best with what we know, the information and resources we have, and keep moving forward. Trusting the system isn’t a flaw, the system can sometimes be flawed, but without it would be anarchy.”

  Zibon went back with his friends, not looking as thrilled anymore about his gift, the excitement gone for some reason. I couldn’t focus on that, though, getting filled in on the full story when I’d only gotten bits and pieces of why zakasacs were coming for them.

  “We have to move all the pre-trans here to where we are if we’re for sure staying,” Basilia announced after a few minutes of us sitting with this new information.

  “Why? What led you to that?” I asked, holding up my hand to Alexander and Helios.

  “Because I saw notes and like a flowchart that made no sense until now,” she explained, fear in her eyes. “They don’t think it’s unmated warriors. They think it’s pre-trans warriors that this experiment thing worked on. And at first it seems stupid to go to these lengths to work on making warriors complacent to their zakasac mate, but when you think of it as the way to get all young warriors with limitless potential to turn zakasac, it’s quite genius. We must speak with the one who was taken. I want the firsthand account, but I believe zakasacs put the pieces together of what—”

  “They think happened,” I muttered, nodding my head. “Because why else would the original group focus on getting people from this camp. This camp is known for being remote, sure, now some call it the Homo Camp, but mostly it’s got the most pre-trans that survive. That means strong pre-trans and ones to come after. Shit. This is bad. And definitely explains why three good sized nests were setting down camp.”

  “You are more than welcome to the journal we found outlining what was done,” Alexander offered, giving us a hesitant look. “And you may speak with Gilroy, but sections of his memory are missing or—”

  “He’s young, and it was a horrid thing he went through,” Helios interjected. “Please, just go easy on him. He’s a good kid. He’s got a programmer’s brain, and I messed up trying to ease him into learning more of what he was missing.”

  “We just want to hear it from the source and a different perspective for what we know versus what you might. It will help move ideas forward and get everyone filled in accurately,” I assured them, not wanting it to sound as
insulting as he meant it. Sure, we didn’t use kid gloves ever, but we weren’t monsters.

  Basilia stood when Gilroy came in with Xana, his mate, smiling. “This is the one like me?”

  “Yes,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

  “Like you?” Xana muttered, glancing between us.

  “Impenetrable,” Basilia informed him. “I heard it’s your gift.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “It is. I’ve never heard or met another who had it.”

  “I’m also the first female warrior to ever be born, so it was needed to survive,” she explained, extending her hand. “If you ever need help with it or the range of what you can do, my door is always open.”

  “Thanks.” He shook her hand but then frowned. “Range? You mean like fire not hurting us, to ‘Hulk smash?’”

  “I mean how to focus it,” she answered, glancing at me as if missing something.

  “She is also one of the finest wielders of a sword I’ve ever seen. You lose dexterity from what I’ve heard, and she doesn’t.”

  “I can,” she corrected me. “I mean, yeah, I can be like the comic and smash when the situation is needed, but I can do both.”

  “I would very much like to work with you then, thank you,” Xana accepted, dipping his head. “I never realized there could be a range like that.”

  “You might have another to bring under your tutelage,” Proximo cut in. “One of the budding gifts appears to be the same.”

  “I will speak with Marissa and let her know I’m available,” Basilia agreed. “It’s normal for those coming into their gifts to develop the same as one around them.” We got several befuddled looks, and I seriously wanted to ask if anyone ever passed on any knowledge or truth. “It’s a survival adaptation of vampires, especially warriors as their gifts tend to be powerful, and that means there is someone to guide them. It’s why families would fight to get their offspring warriors into the best, strongest camps so they might have a chance at such gifts.”