Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Gabrielle Evans

  “Morning?” Moira shook her head hard. “No, we need to leave now.”

  “What are you going to do, Mo? Go breaking down people’s doors in the middle of the night? I don’t see that being very helpful in getting information.”

  She glared at him for a long time before sighing and slumping back into the chair. “I know you’re right, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “Why did you leave?” Joss asked out of the blue. “Your father said it was because you were young and scared of your responsibilities. Judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing that’s not true.”

  If Joss was willing to put his neck on the line to help them, Brock figured the least he could do was indulge the guy in a little story time. So he gave a brief summary of the whole sordid tale, beginning at the fight with his father and ending with his return to Alabama. “You really had no idea, did you?”

  Joss shook his head and fidgeted uncomfortably. “I swear I didn’t. This is insane, Brock. What the hell did you fight about that made you attack him?”

  “He called my mother a whore. I don’t even remember how the subject came up, but he called her a whore and said he was glad she was dead.” His mother, not his father, had been his hero, the person he looked up to until her death when he was fourteen. When placed in a precarious situation, he still tried to think of how his mother would handle it, what she would expect from him.

  “Sounds a little bit like you were goaded, man.” Thank mercy they had Casey on their side. They guy was smart as hell, always thinking three steps ahead. “Why would your dad want you out of the way?”

  “Me,” Moira whispered. “I don’t know why, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. If Steven is one of the people helping to create these Shadow Walkers, I think we can assume he had a hand in leading you back.”

  That was a bit of a stretch in Brock’s opinion. Why would his father go to so much trouble to get him out of town only to manipulate him into coming back? “I’m not following, Mo. Why would he want me back?”

  “Well, let’s look at the sequence of events,” Casey suggested. “He pushes you into attacking him, giving him the perfect reason to send you running—a reason too dangerous for you to take Moira with you. Now, you’re back. You claim Moira. Rip sees it. He goes missing, and then Shadow Walkers show up two days later.”

  “You think my father lured me back here just so I would claim Mo? Why?” If that was the case, why had his dad wanted him out of the picture in the first place?

  “Well, she has powers now,” Joss answered with a shrug. “Maybe he wants her power.”

  “I can buy that, but again, why get rid of me in the first place? Moira didn’t have powers before I claimed her, and I couldn’t claim her if I wasn’t here.”

  “Maybe he didn’t know that she wouldn’t have powers until she bonded with her mate.”

  That sounded like his dad. The man was smart, but he was also rash and impulsive. It made sense that he would have acted before having all the information he needed. “So, what happened while I was gone, and what does my father want with Mo? He can’t just take her powers. There has to be something else.”

  “You do remember that I’m sitting right here.” There wasn’t much heat in Moira’s voice, though. It had been a long night, and the stress was obviously getting to her. “There’s no way to know, so let’s just figure out where they’re keeping Koba.”

  “There might be a way,” Casey said thoughtfully. “The Walker Moira took down, he wasn’t dead.”

  Joss snorted and shook his head. “I’m betting he is now.”

  “Go find out.” It was their best chance at getting answers. “If he’s alive, take him to the barn and come get me.”

  “I’ll go.” Joss stood and placed a hand on Casey’s shoulder, holding him in his seat. “You can barely walk. Stop being such a pain in the ass.”

  “The sun will be up soon.”

  Brock arched an eyebrow at Casey and frowned. “So?”

  “If your Shadow Walker is alive, you better find a place to keep him out of the sun. It’ll be kind of hard to interrogate him if he’s burned crispy.”

  “Tie him up in the loft. There aren’t any windows up there. He’ll be fine as long as it’s not direct sunlight.”

  After shifting so many times during the night, Brock was dead on his feet. He felt like a dick for wanting to sleep while Koba was missing, but he wouldn’t be any good to anyone if he couldn’t function and think clearly. “You guys should grab some shut-eye. I’ll try to nap on the couch until Joss gets back.”

  To his complete surprise, Moira didn’t offer even the slightest argument. She simply rose to her feet, kissed his forehead, and padded down the hall to her bedroom. “She’ll be okay,” Casey assured him as he struggled up from his chair. “Koba’s going to be fine, too. You’re right about one thing. As long as he’s useful, he’s safe.”

  True, but how long until Koba became more of a liability than an asset?

  * * * *

  “Why did you stop me from grabbing the girl?”

  “It’s not time yet. Be patient, son.”

  “She should have been mine! We wouldn’t have had to bring Brock back if you’d have just let me claim her!”

  “We’re not taking any more chances. Maybe it would have worked, but since you aren’t her true mate, I couldn’t risk it, not before the next full moon. You’ll still have what you want.”

  Koba couldn’t see the arguing men, but he recognized one of the voices as Rip’s. He assumed one of the other voices belonged to former alpha, Steven Lancaster. So, who was the third man?

  “Why are we keeping the wolf fag?” Rip demanded. “Let me kill him.”

  “No,” barked a forth, unfamiliar voice. “No one touches him.”

  Well, someone had already broken that rule. His jaw ached like the ten shades of hell, and his wrists felt raw where the scratchy, frayed rope bound them together. None of that mattered, though. Moira was okay. They hadn’t gotten to her, and that’s all that mattered.

  Brock was going to be pissed. Koba could just picture that vein in his temple throbbing with his anger. There was no doubt in his mind that his mates would come for him. They’d be walking right into a trap, and for that reason, he needed to find a way out before that could happen.

  The dank, dark basement they’d thrown him in reeked of vampires, making escape that much harder. There were plenty of lycans roaming around as well, ensuring he was guarded both day and night. The strongest scent in the room, however, was that of Walkers. Whoever these people were, whatever their agenda, they’d been very busy.

  They certainly weren’t going to make it easy on him. Most of the men he’d seen since his arrival were bigger and stronger than him. That was okay, though. It just meant that he was going to have to be smarter. What he lacked in size and brute force, he made up for in his acute problem-solving skills. Now, he just had to sit back and play nice until the right opportunity presented itself.

  They obviously knew he was on omega, but didn’t seem to have much concept of what that entailed. Advantageous, even if he wasn’t looking forward to what he had to do. If it meant keeping his mates out of danger, he’d do it without hesitation, though.

  Settling his shoulders against the cinderblocks behind him, he sat on the cold floor and closed his eyes. The sun would be up soon. That meant the vampires would be retiring for the day and the Walkers would need to find adequate shelter from sunlight as well.

  A row of small windows on the wall across from him would illuminate most of the basement for at least a few hours after sunrise. If he had any hope of getting his very narrow behind out of the basement, it would be during that small timeframe.

  So, he waited. He watched and listened as people came and went. Most ignored him as though he was part of the wall, though a few glanced curiously in his direction. If his captors found it suspicious that he didn’t throw himself about the room or yell to be set free, they
didn’t show it. Maybe they didn’t want to jinx their good fortune at having a cooperative prisoner.

  When the sky outside the window began to lighten, turning the horizon to a silvery gray, three lycans and a Walker entered his little part of the basement, standing guard at different points in the room. It went against everything he believed in to use his powers in such an underhanded way, but desperate times made him…well, desperate.

  Closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath and let it out, sending a blast of energy through the room—along with a hefty dose of lust-inducing pheromones.

  Chapter Ten

  After tossing and turning for an hour, Moira finally gave up and rolled out of bed. No way could she sleep while Koba was missing. Besides, Joss should have returned by now with news about the Walker. Probably not their best source of information, but it was better than what they had now, which was squat.

  She needed a shower. Hopefully the hot water would refresh her and help her think more clearly. The birds chirped in the trees outside, and it wouldn’t be long before the sun had completely risen in the east. Funny that when time was of the essence, it seemed to move at blinding speeds.

  A quick shower, a change of clothes, and she was feeling marginally better. Maybe she should eat something. Shifting into her demon form had taken a lot out of her, and she would need all the strength she could get. The mere idea of food made her stomach roll uncomfortably, though.

  Koba had been in her life for little more than a week, but already, she couldn’t imagine a life without him. Where Brock was her protector, her armor against the world, Koba was her light, her peace. He was the glue that held them all together, the one thing between her and Brock that had been missing without them even realizing it.

  If she was hurting, feeling so lost and empty with him gone after knowing him for such a short time, she could only imagine how Brock was feeling. Jogging down the hallway to the living room, she found Brock sitting in the old, ugly, brown recliner, staring straight ahead with a vacant look to his eyes.

  Brock wasn’t weak by any stretch of the imagination, but even the strongest person could bleed. In that moment, seeing him with his guard down, Moira could almost feel his heart bleeding as if it was her own.

  In three steps, she was around the sofa and standing in front of the chair, wanting to reach out and comfort her mate but unsure if her presence was welcome. She understood better than most that not everyone wanted an audience for their pain.

  To her relief, Brock took her wrist and pulled gently until she was nestled securely in his lap. Those strong, capable arms came around her, holding her tightly as though he was afraid she would vanish as well if he didn’t keep her close. Knowing it was what they both needed, Moira sat quietly, resting her head on his shoulder and fisting her hand in his shirt.

  The room gradually began to lighten, and Moira swore she could feel the sunlight warming her skin, even through the thick curtains. It was strange, though not necessarily uncomfortable. Gods, she had so many questions about what was happening to her, but they would have to wait.

  Once Koba was home, they could tackle finding out who was doing this to them and why. They’d deal with the Shadow Walker problem. Figuring out a way for the pack to accept her would be a little more difficult, but they’d do that, too. Then, when things were back to their version of normal, she’d sit down and grill Casey about what he knew until his ears bled.

  “Did Joss come back?”

  “He’s in the back room with Casey. The rest of my team is tracking the Walker. I’m just waiting to hear something.”

  “We’re going to get him back, Brock.” The hollowness in his voice was scaring her. She was a total mess on the inside, and maybe it wasn’t fair, but she needed Brock to be the strong one and make everything okay. For once, Moira didn’t have a plan, she didn’t know what to do, and she didn’t want to make the decisions. “Brock, please.”

  “I met Koba outside of a bar in Atlanta. I was on my way home when he comes running out of nowhere and knocks us both to the ground. You wouldn’t expect someone his size to be adorable, but the way he blushed and apologized was cute as hell.”

  There hadn’t been a question, and Moira didn’t think Brock was looking for commentary, so she stayed quiet, hoping he’d continue with the story.

  “I knew right away he was my mate, but I didn’t want any part of it.”

  A twinge of guilt pierced her chest, but Moira pushed it aside quickly. It was in the past, and the fault for their separation belonged to neither of them. Part of her felt sad for all the time they’d lost, but there was another part of her that was glad for it. If Brock hadn’t left, they may never have found Koba.

  “Well, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You know how he is.” A quiet chuckle vibrated through Brock’s chest. “Once I finally stopped fighting, it was so easy to fall in love with him.” He kissed the top of her head tenderly. “One more thing you two have in common.”

  “What happened?” It was a sweet story, but the tension in Brock’s muscles said the big “bad” was coming.

  “We’d been living together for a couple of months. One night, Koba decided he wanted ice cream. He walked in on an armed robbery at the convenience store down the street from where we lived. I didn’t even know about it until I woke up to one of the pack betas pounding on the door.”

  Moira bit down hard on her lip to keep from making a sound, but she couldn’t stop the moisture that gathered in her eyes. She really didn’t want to hear anymore, but apparently Brock hadn’t reached the moral of his story yet.

  “He was shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the neck. If he hadn’t been a lycan, he would have died right there on the floor. I sat with him in the hospital, listening to the doctors go on about what a miracle it was. The only miracle I could see was that someone out there had decided that I deserved a second chance, and I promised that I’d never let anything like that happen to him again.”

  Yet, it was happening. “This isn’t your fault.”

  Brock took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he rested their foreheads together. “I know, baby. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone, and it could have just as easily been you.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to inform him that she was capable of taking care of herself, but she choked back the argument at the last second. That wasn’t the point. Someone had taken Koba, and Brock hadn’t been able to prevent it. No one pointed the finger at him, but that didn’t stop her mate from blaming himself.

  Words were just words, and in this case, she had nothing to say that wouldn’t sound trite and clichéd. “We should eat something.”

  “I feel like I have a steel ball in the pit of my stomach.” Brock’s thoughts drifted into her head as clearly as though he’d spoken them aloud. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  “How long has the team been gone? Should they be back soon?” She didn’t much feel like eating, either, but cooking breakfast for everyone would give her something to do while they waited for information.

  “Where are they? Did they find him? Maybe the Walker is already dead. Joss didn’t look very optimistic when he came back. I can’t tell her that, though. I don’t want Mo to worry. Fuck, how am I going to find Koba without that damn Walker?”

  “Brock?” His chaotic thoughts beat against her brain, making her temples throb and her forehead ache. She had to figure out how to control it, because she couldn’t be debilitated by the noise in her head for the rest of her life.

  “I hear someone coming now.”

  Was he lying? Moira didn’t hear anything other than the beating of her own heart. Fortunately, before she could accuse him of dishonesty, there were footsteps thudding across the front porch, followed by a knock on the door. “I got it.”

  Jumping up from Brock’s lap, she hustled to greet their guests, anxious for any news they could give her. Rays of sunlight spilled into the room when she opened the door, and Moira had only a
split second to recognize Gatlan, one of the team members, before scorching pain sizzled through her body.

  Unable to hold herself up against the pain, she fell to the floor and curled into a ball, gasping and screaming as her skin burned as though the fires of hell engulfed her. The putrid smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils, but she couldn’t uncurl herself from her tightly wrapped fetal position to investigate.

  “Shut the door!” Casey yelled as he ran into the living room, shoving Gatlan out of the way and slamming the door.

  Brock was across the room in a flash, lifting Moira into his arms and carrying her down the hall to her private bathroom. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Holding her with one arm, he turned on the shower and stepped inside, both of them completely clothed.

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Moira sucked in deep breaths through her nose, trying to quell the whimpers she could feel trying to rise up through her throat. She didn’t cry, and she damn sure didn’t whimper. It was hard to remember that when it felt like her skin was melting off her bones, though.

  “I’m sorry.” Casey stumbled to a stop just outside the bathroom door. “I should have warned you. I didn’t think.”

  “You can walk in the sun.” Was that her voice? It sounded hoarse and raspy as though she’d just chain-smoked a carton of cigarettes.

  “I’m more wolf than demon,” Casey explained. “I don’t think that’s the case for you, Moira. I’m sorry.”

  She really wished he’d stop apologizing to her. It was her own fault for not finding out everything she could about her nature. In her defense, she’d never met another demon that she knew of, and other paranormals weren’t keen on talking about the species. The little bit she knew, her mother had told her, but it mostly amounted to never claim a mate and always stay hidden.

  Well, she couldn’t hide anymore. Several people had seen her shift during the night. News was sure to spread quickly. It was possible that her own pack would come with torches and pitchforks to personally hand her over to the former alpha.