by Leah Blake
Nico rested the tweezers he’d been using to dab the gauze into the bowl and dotted Mik’s shoulder dry. The wolf drew his fingers along his back, the sensations soothing. He sank deeper into the mattress.
“My brothers were brawling on the grass between a wooded area and the playground. I watched from the sidelines as they wrestled and fought, sharing in the laughter, wanting to dive into the melee. By this time, the sun had set and night closed in. The streetlights provided that eerie yellow glow in spots. We all knew it was time to go back home, but we were having too much fun. And then, out of nowhere, we were attacked.”
Mik squeezed his eyes shut as the night replayed in his head. He let the reel run, let it consume him, hammering in the anguish and grief, the terror he had experienced all those years ago.
Nico moved the bowl from the mattress to the nightstand and stretched out on his side next to Mik. Mik opened his eyes and stared up at the wolf, whose head perched on a fist and whose eyes warmed with sympathy. The sharp edges of his face had softened, coaxing Mik into his mate’s allure. Nico rested a hand against the underside of Mik’s jaw, his thumb brushing back and forth over his cheek.
“Your pain is still great over their deaths.”
“Yes.”
“Why? What happened?”
Mik’s eyes narrowed. Did he really not get it?
“They were killed, Nico. None of us saw the lamabra come out of the woods. The thing was so fast he left nothing but a blur of color in his stead, except for when he tore into my brothers. And he tore. He ripped my oldest brother apart. His screams still haunt me. Screams of pain and fear. That devil raked at him with such force that splatters of my brother’s blood reached me, staining my skin and my clothes, ten feet away.
“My other brother and I ran. There was nothing we could do to stop the creature. We had no idea what it was. We bolted, screaming for help, hoping someone would hear us. Then, my brother was ripped off his feet. I turned to see that monster biting into his neck. My brother’s eyes were so wide, filled with so much fear and tears and pain. He thrashed, trying to get away, but each jerk caused the lamabra to tear open his neck more and more until I could see a mess of bloody tissue. My brother was staring at me the moment he died. I felt his death in my soul like a blow that knocked me off balance.”
Mik shuddered, reliving the moment he swore his brother passed through his body. It cemented his feet to the ground as he stared at the limp form of his brother in the arms of a monster. That monster’s glowing red eyes found him, targeted him next. He recalled the hunger that fed the lamabra’s crazed gaze through the matted strands of hair. Dirt and blood smeared over the creature’s face. His brothers’ blood. Their deaths wrote their terror on that beast’s skin.
Mik curled his fingers only to realize his hand had, at some point, wrapped around Nico’s wrist. He sought strength in the wolf, a sense of support when he wanted to collapse.
“When the lamabra was through with my second brother and cast him aside like he was garbage, I saw my death in that bastard’s face. I couldn’t move. My body was stuck. It wasn’t mine. I don’t know if it was the lamabra swaying me or if it was fear that held me. Either way, I watched my death stalk up to me. I watched in absolute horror as that thing bared his bloody fangs before dropping his head and sinking his teeth into my neck. I screamed inside my head because I couldn’t open my mouth to let a sound out. I was trapped inside my own body, thrashing in god awful fear and couldn’t lay a single punch to the beast latched onto my neck. I swear I felt my life drain out of me before the lamabra took its first drink.”
“It bit you.” Shadows darkened Nico’s face. His eyes dropped to Mik’s neck, searching for scars he wouldn’t find. “And you survived.”
“I had been violated not once that night, but twice.” Mik turned his face into the pillow to wipe the sting from his eyes. Nico didn’t need to see the tears, the pain, reliving his past brought. “The lamabra ripped away from my neck, tearing skin. The pain was horrendous. And yet, through it all, I remained standing, helpless, unable to fight, unable to scream. I had tears, though. I watched the thing through the mist of tears as he stumbled back, thrashing wildly before spinning on his heels and disappearing into the woods. I don’t know what happened, but he left me. Alive.”
He sighed, twisting onto his side and moving closer to Nico. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the wolf, from warm masculinity to the hint of crisp night and forest. Beneath it all, an underlying scent of spice. An intoxicating concoction as magical as a calming spell Cael might cast over him.
“Shock is powerful. Especially the kind of shock I experienced that night. I never heard footsteps behind me. Fingers dug into my hair. My head yanked to the side, exposing the tattered flesh of my neck as it bled like a river down my body. The lamabra might not have killed me, but his damage would have in a matter of minutes. At the time, I had no idea what I was feeling. The lightheadedness amidst the panic. I honestly believe my adrenaline kept me alive long enough to survive the second set of teeth that bit into my neck, the strong sucks as another beast drank what little blood I had. This one spoke to me. I don’t know if he tried to scramble my brain or not, but when he told me to go home, I did. I ran without looking back. I ran until a neighbor stopped me, having heard the screams. I don’t remember everything that happened after that. I passed out before I reached my mother.
“When I woke up next, I was in PICU at a trauma center, receiving blood transfusions, antibiotics, and being treated for hypovolemic shock and sepsis. I had a child psychiatrist coming in daily to speak with me. I had detectives questioning me. I remember being unable to explain what happened. In my mind, the memories were fuzzy, like I suffered amnesia. My mother never left my side while I was in the hospital. She postponed the funerals for my brothers until I was released.”
Nico’s thumb brushed away new tears as they escaped Mik’s eyelids. He pressed his lips together, fighting back the quiver that desperately wanted to take control. As he sat in silence, trying to loosen the tightness in his throat, he realized that in twenty years, he had never shed a tear over his brothers’ murders. He had never grieved their deaths. At twelve, he understood death, but the trauma he suffered left him in a state not permitting him to experience true grief.
He recalled seeing his mother’s incessant suffering. She cried daily. She drank daily. She loved on him, protected him to the extreme. Mik had become her world until something inside her snapped after he graduated high school.
“I couldn’t remember what happened that night, but I sensed the horror and the evil. I saw the pain in my mother every day, her heart shredding every hour. She killed herself right after I turned eighteen. I knew I had to do something to protect myself. A few years later, the memories would come back to me. I realized that the second vampire tried to make me forget. I don’t know what triggered the memories to become vivid again, but they did.
“I went about three years of feeling something was wrong but not understanding it. During that gray time, I took steps to better myself. By thirteen, I started doing side jobs in the neighborhood to save up for boxing lessons. By fourteen, I was moving up in the classes. By sixteen, I was working part-time while finishing up school a grade ahead. I signed up for jiu-jitsu. I met my first hunter and was introduced to the group.”
“Do you understand what drove you to target all paranormals and not just the lamabra?” Nico asked.
Mik stared up at him. At first, he wanted to scold him for not paying a damn moment’s worth of attention to everything he divulged. Then, he realized what Nico was asking. It was a question he had been asked by Jude when Jude first approached him.
“What is it about paranormals that you hate so much?”
“They kill. They murder and slaughter and get away with it. They need policing. They need to be held accountable. They need to die.”
Nico’s eyes narrowed slightly and Mik realized he must’ve transferred. The look was one of scrut
iny as he tried to untangle a mystery.
“Can you control your transfers?” Mik asked.
Nico shook his head. “No, but it seems that whenever you’re in distress, you draw me in. Only after bonding can mates learn to control the transfers.”
Bonding. A term he’d never thought he’d hear in reference to himself.
Although, as he lay close to Nico, the man’s hand continuing to caress his cheek, the warmth of his body comforting Mik, he wasn’t so sure the idea was entirely unpleasant.
“You heard my thoughts.”
Nico nodded once. “I found your response weak. More of an excuse to release your anger than a valid reason to hunt.”
Mik scooted closer to Nico, tucking his head against the wolf’s chest.
“The lamabra, Mikhail, are enemies to every and all races. They are uncontrollable. There is no hope for them, therefore, they must be killed.”
“What exactly are they? How do they differ from vampires?”
“Have you seen Victor?”
Okay, yeah. There was a difference. A huge difference.
“According to Victor, the lamabra are creations from blood givers to the vampires. They’re a class of humans called giarra who dedicate their lives to feeding their vampire so the vampire doesn’t go out and harm unsuspecting humans. That’s not to say it doesn’t happen, but there is a permanent source of willing food. Vampires didn’t want to give up their giarra to the mortal life cycle, so they tried to keep them by performing a turning that was not complete. The genetic make-up of the giarra refused to allow a full transformation, creating a monster instead. A monster that has no empathy, no ability to differentiate between right and wrong. They are driven by bloodlust, their thirst for blood and power. If vampires could be zombies, I’d equate the lamabra to that title.”
Mik soaked in this new information. No one, not even Jude, understood the lamabra, and Nico just gave him a nutshell lesson on the creatures. It also made him sympathize for the damn monsters. Humans turned into monsters because of the selfishness of their vampire keepers.
“The vampires realized their mistakes and the lamabra were hunted both by vampires and shifters. They were nearly eradicated until recently.”
“What happened? Why is there a surge when a vampire has to create one?”
“First, answer my question. What was the drive to kill all paranormals?”
Mik sighed, slipping his arm around the solid berth of Nico’s shoulders. He played with the silky ends of his hair as he pondered that question for a long while. The entire time, Nico held him, switching out Mik’s face for his waist, drawing their hips close. He wasn’t surprised by the wolf’s hard erection, but he was surprised that the man could practically ignore it when Mik’s own swelling dick itched for the pleasantries of Nico’s seduction.
Shoving the hunger aside, he shrugged. “I had a vampire, not a lamabra, drink from my neck and fuck with my head without my permission. That after I watched my two brothers die and their killer run off. He let a monster go and took advantage of me.”
“What do you think the vampire did to you, Mikhail?”
“He drank my blood, Nico. He continued what the lamabra didn’t finish.”
“You have no scar and you survived the lamabra. Do you honestly believe what you’re telling me?” Nico’s hand slipped beneath Mik’s chin and tilted his head until their gazes met. “Or have you hidden behind the façade to keep from facing a truth only you know?”
“You’d make a great shrink.”
“Mikhail, the question.”
Mik shifted, bringing himself a few inches higher in the bed so he could look at the handsome man without developing a headache. “What are you trying to tell me, wolf? That the vampire saved me?”
“Didn’t he? Didn’t he tell you to run home?”
Mik blinked. Yes. He had.
“After he drank from me.”
Nico’s lips curled. “Chances are, he sucked the poison out of your system and healed up the most severe of your wounds. A lamabra’s poison could kill you if you’re weakened, which you were. Vampire saliva can heal flesh and neutralize the poison. Why do you think you don’t see fang marks on necks? They don’t want to be discovered any more than we do. Being a paranormal isn’t always what those fawning mortals think it is, especially when you have hard-headed hunters trying to pelt you every turn you take.” The wolf’s grin melted into something sympathetic. “However, I think that your drive is not entirely based on your misunderstanding of your mystery vampire. As with the deliberate evasion of using your brothers’ names.”
Mik nodded, the sting in his eyes turning into a burn. Nico peeled away the screens he projected, digging deep into the dark recesses of his soul. He sought what Mik fought so hard to suppress, and now, he couldn’t hide it any longer. The grief, the anguish from all those years ago. The hate and anger that had manifested until it boiled out of control.
Since he woke in the PICU, he worked to numb himself of the nightmare he had witnessed. He didn’t mention his brothers by name because it would hit home if he did.
He never grieved.
Never cried.
Never faced the events of that night as vividly as he did now.
Mik’s nostrils flared, his throat constricting. The quiver in his chin strengthened. The burn blurred his vision.
“I need to let them go,” Mik admitted, his voice rough and strained.
“Who?”
“Ethan and”—Mik couldn’t clear the lump from his throat—“Carson.”
Nico lowered the fist propping up his head, slipped his arm beneath Mik’s head, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. The gesture snapped a few of the remaining reinforcements, letting the tears flow.
“Let the rest of the night be your time to grieve, Mikhail. I’ll stay with you. I’ll hold you, comfort you, dry your tears when you’re done. Let go of your past so you can see how bright your future will be.”
Before Nico finished his speech, Mik gave in to the powerful surge of anguish that tore up through his chest, and cried twenty years of pain and suffering into the arms of his wolf.
Chapter Thirteen
Nico wasn’t surprised by the glowers he received when he slipped into the dining room. Mace stopped chatting with Ezra, Khor snarled, and Shadow rose to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. Other guards surrounding the table—an unusual setup, since most of them dined outside on the back patio, in their rooms, or on the front porch—turned harsh stares on him.
Nico looked at each and every man present.
It was all he could do not to instigate a fight.
“Where’s your friend?”
Nico flicked Mace off, acquiring a few “Oohs” and “Shits.” He grabbed up two plates from the pile alongside the table of chafing dishes and began loading lunch for when Mikhail woke up. His heart broke for his mate. He sobbed for hours, yapped nonsense, and cried more. The sun broke over the horizon, casting shadows throughout the room by the time he had fallen asleep, face tight and shiny with dried tears. His nose stayed a cute pink for almost thirty minutes after he had fallen asleep. Dark circles had formed under his red-rimmed eyes.
He was beautiful, in a sorrowful type of way. Nico could only hope that the step Mikhail took a little while ago was enough to clear his head of a reckless hatred toward paranormals.
He wanted his mate to accept him. He wanted to experience more of what they shared in the forest. He wanted nights of Mikhail falling asleep in his arms and mornings of finding his mate tucked against his body.
Unfortunately, as the spears of disgust pierced his back, he knew Mikhail learning the truth about the paranormals was only one obstacle they’d have to overcome. The men he fought beside and worked hand-in-hand with to protect their home and those who resided within the boundaries, would be a mountain.
“Hope his ass was good,” someone muttered.
The spoonful of potatoes he lifted from one of the dishes jerked as he stiffened.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and continued on his way, piling the plates high with roast beef, brisket, pork ribs, and vegetables. He balanced the plates on his arm, grabbed two bottles of beer from the iced tub, and headed back to his room.
He made it halfway out of the dining room before another guard took a jab.
“How does it feel to put your dick into a murderer’s ass?”
Nico growled and slowly twisted in his spot to face the callous jerk. Ashe leaned back in his chair and shrugged, his eyes dark with resentment.
“I mean, as long as he doesn’t put you down, to hell with the rest of us, right?”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Nico said between clenched teeth.
“Or what?” Ashe shoved his chair back as he shot to his feet. He braced his arms on the table and flashed his fangs. “What, Nico? You’re the one sleeping with the enemy. I don’t give a shit who that little prick is, he’s not welcome here. He’s not wanted. I think I speak for most of the guards when I say our trust, Nico, is something that has kept us alive. That trust in you is going out the door.”
The plates on his arm clinked as his muscles quivered with the onset of a brawl. His fingers tightened around the long necks. Ashe’s gaze bored straight into his head. Nico’s mate was the enemy, but that didn’t mean the man couldn’t change. It didn’t mean his loyalty to his friends and fellow guards was any less.
“Your trust will go nowhere, Ashe.”
Nico snapped around, nearly losing a plate, to find Raul approaching the dining room, Victor at his side. The guards settled in their seats and began eating their meals as if nothing happened. Nico wondered how many of the men shoveled food into their mouths to keep from drooling over their alpha’s mate.
Raul exchanged a small grin with Nico before turning a chilling look on the guards. “I don’t care what your thoughts are regarding Mikhail’s presence in this manor, the decision was mine to bring him here. I have my reasons, and I expect that each and every one of you will respect my decision.”
