Hunger's Mate

by A. C. Arthur

  The same summer-blue eyes and straight-to-the-point-of-annoying brunette hair, strands of which stuck to a little toothpaste on her cheek. Hurriedly she wiped that off, slicking her wet hands down over her hair and then blinked at the mirror again.

  She’d had to do it, she reminded herself silently, her lips thinning as if she hated the confession. But really, what had been her other options? Life was hard enough without the added trauma of growing up an orphan, and getting caught on her first official drug run. She was a high school graduate and all her counselors at school had told her that she’d done well to stick it out all four years and get that nice crisp white sheet of paper that stood for achievement. Hell, the bald-headed Mr. Gleason, assistant principal of the goddamned year had shook her hand and wished her good luck, telling her and every one of the other three hundred graduates that the sky was the limit. Only Lilah had fallen flat on her face just six short months after that fateful day.

  And Larry Crowe had been the one to pick her up. For the last three years he’d paid for her classes at the community college, seeming genuinely excited about her goals to study chemistry. Of course, he was even more excited by her ability to deep throat him until he came approximately fifty-three seconds later, anytime and anywhere. That little skill and the fact that she knew how to be seen and not heard—mostly when she was around him—had earned her a limitless credit card, a nicely equipped Acura, and the cute little log cabin in Grand Canyon Village.

  It was a good life. Better than any she’d ever imagined for herself. Except for times like this. Every now and then Larry would ask her to do special favors. Making the sex tape, letting him do her and another woman at the same time, she would soon learn were just the beginning. But in the last year he’d let her work in the lab with Dr. DiLaurent on a highly secretive project. She’d felt like she was being rewarded.

  Until now.

  He’d said to do whatever was necessary. To get him that DNA sample or not bother coming back to Arizona. If she didn’t go back, where would she go? What would she do? She had a total of forty-six credits, because Larry liked for her to be home whenever he was, so her schedule had to work around his. She could graduate with an Associate’s degree in general studies, but she wasn’t near the point where she could transfer to a four-year college and work toward a Bachelor’s in chemistry, which was what she really wanted. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t have the money to pay for any of that. Larry had said he provided her with everything she needed so there was no reason for her to officially be on the lab’s payroll. She’d believed him.

  Croy DiLaurent was a sleazy, manipulative asshole and his feet stank! But he had the name and telephone number of the doctor that had given him that DNA sample. He could call the guy and have him bring that DNA sample holder to her. She could get on a plane and go back to the life she’d mostly enjoyed living. But he wasn’t giving any of that up for free. So she’d let him hump her until he came, quickly and very nastily in her ass. He’d fondled her with clumsy hands and a drooling mouth, he’d fingered her everywhere he could get his chubby little digits, and finally—because she hadn’t humiliated herself enough—he’d asked for the blow job.

  Her stomach roiled with nausea once more.

  “We’d better get going,” he said, knocking on the bathroom door. “You don’t want to miss what you’ve come all this way for.”

  Rubbing her still-damp hands down her face, Lilah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She moved away from the sink, grabbed a towel from the rack, and wiped her hands dry. When she opened the door he was standing there smiling. His wire-framed glasses crooked on a nose that had been broken before, dirty-blond hair having been slathered with some sort of hair product and slicked to the side. He looked like a modern-day Clark Kent, without the cuteness, and talked like one of the characters on that television show with all the nerds.

  Yet, Lilah reached down deep, saw how bright her future was and how much potential that diploma she’d burned had given her, and smiled. “I’m ready,” she said cheerfully.

  “Oh, I am too,” Croy added, a salacious smile gliding across his face.

  She put up her hands, landing them right in the center of his chest as a barrier. “We’re going to be late,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “Yeah, okay. We should go. But before you leave, right? You promised one more time before you go.”

  He sounded like a kid begging to stay up for just another hour on a school night. She’d never done that personally because who the hell wanted to stay up late when they lived in an orphanage?

  “Right,” she assured him. She even let him palm her ass as she walked beside him out the door of his apartment and to the car. She prayed they were heading to the hospital where DiLaurent said he kept one last vial of blood that contained the DNA she needed. She was more than ready to go the hell home.

  * * *

  “Is this going to help?” Ary asked Dr. Frank Papplin, the first Shadow doctor she’d met when she came to the United States.

  Together, the two of them had created a first-rate medical center within the walls of Havenway. There, they could treat both human ailments and injuries specifically related to shifters. While Papplin still spent the majority of his time at Washington Hospital Center, he made a point to be at Havenway as much as possible. More in the last month since Shya’s health had taken a turn for the worse.

  Ary held her daughter close to her chest now, doing the famous mother’s stand, shake, and cradle so Shya would remain asleep. Every few minutes her daughter would stir, crunching her cute little face up as if she were about to cry out in pain. Then Ary would rock her, rub her back, and press her cheek right against her daughter’s smaller, chubbier one, and the little girl would calm down. Most of the hours in her day were spent this way, but Ary would not complain. Every breath Shya took was another second of hope that they would find a way to reverse the effects of the damiana her daughter had ingested while in utero.

  “I think it is our best bet for now. DiLaurent says he’s found something, a possible way to isolate the contaminated areas in her body and treat them with a powerful antibiotic,” Papplin continued.

  He was still wearing his light blue scrubs from the hospital and a worn leather jacket. “We can go, let him examine her, and listen to what he has to say. If we’re not comfortable with his suggestion, we can leave.”

  Ary listened, heard the logic in his words but still felt hesitant. That could possibly be because Nick wasn’t here. In addition to being one of Rome’s Lead Enforcers, her husband was also a very savvy business attorney. As such, he was now in a predicted three-week products liability trial in the city. She could text him and ask his opinion but it might be an hour or so before he could request a recess to call her back.

  Shya arched in her arms, her little mouth opened, her eyes squeezed shut, and she let out a wail that could have awakened the dead. Holding her tight and rocking faster than she had before, Ary put her cheek to her daughter’s, even though the crying had her ears ringing, and told Papplin, “Sure, give me a second to get Leo. We’ll meet you at the front door.”

  * * *

  An hour and a half later, Ary walked down the familiar halls of Washington Hospital Center, her daughter still in her arms. Leo walked right beside her, so close his arm bumped hers as they moved. The moment her personal guard had found out Nick wasn’t accompanying them, he’d enlisted another guard to travel with them. That shifter, Aidan Sanchez, was just as close to her other side, carrying Shya’s baby bag in his left hand while his right—his gun hand, she presumed—remained free. Both shifters were over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and no-nonsense glares. Aidan was one of the newest initiates; he and his two brothers were part of an elite team that Rome had put together. Nick had told her that the plan had been for this threesome to work specifically with infiltrating the rogue recruitment throughout the States. They’d been trained specifically for this task and for that reason, had been person
ally pursued by Sabar before his timely death. Today, however, the oldest of the Sanchez brothers was with her and her daughter, giving Ary an even higher measure of security.

  Their truck had pulled up to the back of the hospital and they entered through the maintenance entrance, Papplin’s ID providing access to many of the entrances into the building. The hallways down here were freshly painted the ugliest yellow color Ary had ever seen. The rubber bottom of her Dansko clogs squeaked on the floor as it had been lightly drizzling outside when they stepped out of the truck.

  Shya was asleep, her tiny fist clenching the collar of Ary’s shirt tightly, a fleece Disney princess blanket draped over her entire body, shielding her from the outside elements and anyone that might be watching. She’d sent Nick a text before leaving Havenway, and after checking her phone before getting out of the truck, he still hadn’t replied.

  “This way,” Papplin said, looking over his shoulder at her.

  She followed, Aidan and Leo turning the corner with her, both of them looking back behind them without losing their step. They boarded a service elevator, its walls padded with some type of cushioning. There was a weird smell like antiseptic and ammonia. Her nostrils tingled as she moved to the back of the elevator, Aidan and Leo standing just in front of her, blocking her view.

  “The lab is on the third floor, all the way down the end of the hall.” Papplin began giving Leo and Aidan the layout before they arrived. “There’s a guard and electronic doors that either need to be activated by the guard or opened with an ID card. That’s through the general admission wing. We’re going to come up on the back of the floor, so we’ll get off the elevator and head straight to the side door of the lab. It’s also locked electronically but my badge can get us in. Once in the lab, I’ll make the introductions and talk to DiLaurent about his chemical findings. Then he’ll take a look at Shya and if we decide to proceed more lab work will be done on her so we can figure out the exact antibiotic to be used.”

  Ary listened, letting the words process in her mind, while inside her cat shifted uncomfortably, slithering along her spine as if in preparation. She lifted the blanket slightly, inhaling deeply the comforting baby scent her daughter carried. She smiled, looking down into a face that held so much of her and Nick she couldn’t help but feel full of love. Thick black hair covered Shya’s head, the sweetest curls wrapping around the bottom of her ear. Heart-shaped lips puckered as she breathed, in and out, in and out. Long lashes fanned over her upper cheeks like angel’s wings. This little girl was everything to her, all that she’d ever wished for after being reunited with her mate. After her own tumultuous upbringing in the Gungi and her parents’ ultimate betrayal, Ary had decided she would only give her child happy memories and love and support all the days of their lives. Closing her eyes, she prayed those days would be long and plentiful.

  The elevator doors opened and Papplin stepped out first. He looked up and down the hallway then motioned for them to join him. Leo stepped out next, completing the same survey before nodding to Aidan to bring her out.

  “We’re going to stay close,” he told her, looking down at her with his raven-black hair and piercing brown eyes.

  She swallowed. “Closer you mean?” she asked with an attempt at humor.

  Aidan smiled back. “You got it,” was his reply as he stood to the side, motioning for her to exit before him.

  Leo was right there as she stepped off the elevator, taking her elbow as they waited for Aidan. When they were once again all but locked together, the three of them walked quickly behind Papplin. There were several doors along the hallway, but Papplin continued all the way to the end of the hall. He turned another corner and there was another door about three feet away. Sliding his ID badge through the slim black swiping device, they heard a beeping sound and Papplin opened the door.

  Ary watched the doctor who had become a close friend of hers walk through the entrance and give them the signal to follow. Leo went in first and she walked behind him after he’d given her a nod. Aidan was right behind her. Shya stirred the moment they were inside and when Ary looked down to begin the consoling process once more, she was surprised to see her daughter staring straight at her, shimmering hazel eyes flecked with green, all but glowing as Shya opened her mouth and let out a loud cry.

  Ary’s cat picked that exact moment to open its mouth to let loose its own battle cry, which rumbled in her chest like an imminent earthquake. To her right she heard a growl and looked to Leo. He grabbed her arm the moment Aidan yelled, “Rogues!”

  And that was the last coherent word Ary would hear.

  * * *

  Darel had gotten the call about six hours ago and while he’d wanted nothing more than to toss that damned cell phone into the Chesapeake Bay and drive off into the sunset never looking back, he knew Boden would find him again.

  That sonofabitch father of his—rather, the sperm donor that had taken pride in spreading his wealth all throughout the world—had come back into his life like a bad fucking nightmare, imposing his own perfected brand of sadistic torture. Sure it was all rooted in sex, but it was perverted and dark and humiliating, all things that Boden Estevez got off on. Him and that bitch Bianca.

  Darel had known he couldn’t trust her. From the first moment Sabar had introduced her he’d known she would be their downfall. And now, here he was, standing in the supply room at this freakin’ hospital filled with dying and contaminated humans! This was not what he’d had planned for his life, not what the parents that had raised him had thought he’d turn out to be either. At least not his mother, she’d believed in heaven and hell, in supreme good and disdainful evil. And she’d tried to warn him, that is, until the already tainted substitute father had gotten angry and ripped her throat out right in front of Darel. The evil that had been running through his blood that his mother had tried valiantly to ignore sprung to life at that very moment. And now it boiled inside of him like some sort of divine potion about to explode.

  Now his biological father was back in the picture, planning to wreak more havoc than Sabar or Darel could have ever imagined. He was going to bring down the Shadow Shifters if he had to wipe out half of the human population to do so. That may possibly be the only reason Darel hadn’t slit his own throat the second Boden and Bianca had let him go. He didn’t want to miss the ultimate demise of the Shadows, no matter how much he hated his genetic father and his whore of a mate.

  So the second he scented those bastard Shadows coming into the lab, he’d pounced, leaving that silly little brunette with the piercing blue eyes that Bianca had informed him was out here to bring the kid back, tied and gagged in the supply closet. She talked too much, threatening to call someone named Crowe and to have him brought up on charges. Whatever, Darel had thought, thoroughly annoyed by the bitch. Whoever that Crowe person was could come and get her out of the closet once this was all over with. As for the lab tech that had so dutifully set up this little tag and grab, he’d been rewarded with a nice clean bullet to his temple.

  Four more of Darel’s men had been hiding throughout the room and the moment his signal was given they struck, going after the guards first. Those bastards were strong; Darel could see them putting up a hell of a fight as they were systematically drawn away from the circle they’d formed around the ultimate prey.

  She was a pretty little thing, Nick Delgado’s wife, that is. Her brown eyes zeroed in on him immediately, shifting to the golden eyes of her cat, but she did not shift. Probably because she had the baby in her arms. The package that Darel had come for. He moved slowly toward her then, ignoring the fighting going on around them both, the glass shattering, furniture crumpling beneath the weight of shifters immersed in battle. She turned to run to the door the second he was about five feet away. It was futile, she should have known. Darel caught her without much effort, grabbing her around the neck and squeezing until she was gasping, one arm reaching up to scratch his face, her cat struggling to get out with roars mingling with her human screa
ms for help. Her other arm held tight to that baby, the one that was staring up at Darel with glowing eyes of her own. The minute gunshots sounded in the background he knew it was time to get this shit over with. Bianca was adamant that they needed the baby alive and unharmed, so Darel squeezed Ary’s neck tighter, simultaneously reaching around her to grab the baby out of her arms.

  When a bullet pierced his side, Darel roared. He grabbed that damned baby, tucking it under his arm and ran for the exit, kicking the door down just as another bullet whizzed past his cheek. He was out in the hall running to the exit he’d already marked, heading for the service elevator to take him down and out of the facility while alarms blared throughout overhead speakers, a result of the gunshots and breached security.

  Darel ignored all that, including the pain searing through his body and the cat pressing so hard for release his teeth and claws had already appeared. Under his arm he held tight to the baby, who had ceased its crying and now only stared at him as if she was seeing something he didn’t see.

  * * *

  “Thank you for doing this,” Ezra said as they sat in the backseat of the truck leaving the house Jewel had shared with Lawrence Crowe.

  The buckets of gray powder had been found exactly where she’d told them they would be—in the back of the basement against the wall. To anyone just walking in the basement they would have seen these containers, opened one of the top ones, and thought they all were filled with the same base paint. But Jewel had seen Larry down here on a couple of occasions, she’d watched him scoop the powder out, dab it to his tongue, and one time sniff it like cocaine. She’d thought about getting rid of it because almost always immediately afterward, he would want sex and lots of it.

  Ezra had grimaced as she’d told him, Bas, Priya, Syfon, and Paolo about that part of her life. If seeing her in the doorway of the meeting room at Rendezvous hadn’t been shocking enough, the calm, almost serene way in which she’d recited how she came to live with Larry, all that he’d done to keep her there and why she’d taken so long to leave definitely had. Even Priya had cried as she listened to Jewel talk of the degradation and mental abuse that Jewel had endured. For Ezra, it had been doubly grueling to digest all that Jewel had gone through, because on some level the degradation and mental abuse had been mirrored in his own life, in those days he’d spent wrapped in Acacia’s merciless grasp and the moment he’d found out it was all a game. At that moment he’d felt closer to Jewel than ever, more connected to this woman than he’d even felt to his twin or anyone else in his life.