by Lynn Hagen
His dead zaterio was alive, whole, and seemingly healthy, and for that, Renato was eternally grateful.
Anything that happened next would be mild in comparison to Renato’s heart finally beating again.
Deep in the heart of Remtin, Rythicam and Morbius entered a dilapidated building and climbed the steps to the top floor. Lesser demons scurried away as the two approached the door marked with the demonic fire symbols that represented Xaphan—a high-ranking demon who was not only formidable but was known for his powers of fire.
Morbius wasn’t looking forward to their meeting. Rumor was that Xaphan had tried to burn the planes of heaven before being tossed into the abyss of hell. Morbius wasn’t sure how true the rumor was, but he’d had a run-in with Xaphan before, and although he would never admit it, the demon scared the shit out of him.
After knocking on the door, Rythicam and Morbius waited.
“Enter.” The voice was dark, deep, and Morbius swore the floor slightly shook. He glanced at Rythicam, who glanced at him, before the two entered. The room’s floor was scorched, as well as the walls and part of the ceiling. The demon stood by the window, glancing down at the street below.
“I’ve found the man you were looking for,” Morbius stated. He was still trying to figure out how the hell that had happened. The human should have died a painful death when Morbius had bitten him.
Turning, Xaphan looked at Morbius as if to say “get on with it.”
“He’s in Brac Village and started to go through the transformation.”
The demon snarled as he moved forward, his hands instantly bursting into flames. “Yet you come to me empty-handed?”
As badly as Morbius wanted to take a step back from the bastard, he stood his ground. His pride would definitely be the death of him one day. “The winged beasts of Zanthar interfered.”
“Do I look in a mood for excuses?” Flames shot out from Xaphan’s right hand, and it took everything in Morbius not to howl in pain when the flames struck his arm. The scent of burnt flesh filled the room as the flames banked, leaving behind nothing but Morbius’s charred flesh. “Bring me that boy or suffer the consequences.”
Morbius didn’t know why Xaphan was so interested in Morgan and honestly didn’t care. He just wanted this job done with so he could wipe his hands of the asshole demon.
“You know getting our hands on Morgan just might get us killed,” Rythicam said as the two exited the building.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Fighting the winged beasts to get the human wasn’t going to be a cakewalk. They were formidable adversaries, and neither side had won whenever they went up against each other in the past. Morbius would have to come up with one hell of a plan in order to get Morgan back from the winged beasts.
“We need more hounds,” Morbius said as the two entered the human realm. “We take the fight to the winged beasts and get Morgan back.”
With a wicked grin, Rythicam nodded. “I like how you think.”
Morgan lay perfectly still as his eyes to adjust to his dim surroundings. He remembered everything that had happened before he’d passed out. It had to have been a hallucination brought on by his drunkenness. None of that could’ve been real. Men breaking into his apartment. His body trying to turn into a pretzel. Renato. It had all been a Captain Morgan dream.
Slowly pushing himself up, Morgan glanced around, and wow, the room he was in was lavish. Three of Morgan’s apartments could have fit in there. The room was decorated in dark wood, maroon and gold carpeting, and the bed he was in looked fit for a king. It was huge, and the mattress made him feel as if he was lying on a cloud.
One wall was a bookcase, stacked with tons of books. There was a seating area off to one side, the chairs made of fabric and looking just as comfortable as the ones at The Lucky Clover had been.
He suddenly felt watched. Morgan turned his head to see Renato standing by a wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
It hadn’t been a dream. Crap. That meant those men had been real as well, along with his body trying to twist inside out.
Morgan’s heart began to beat faster when he saw how intense the man appeared. Renato looked to be barely holding it together. His jaw kept flexing, his arms bulged at the biceps, and his neck was taut. His lips were thinned, too.
Now that he wasn’t writhing in pain, Morgan also noticed how handsome Renato was. Even from across the room he saw just how thick the man’s eyelashes were. Bedroom eyes. His jaw was lined with a faint beard, and a faint mustache adorned his upper lip. His jeans hung on his hips, and his T-shirt was tight against his impressive chest.
“You’re not going to attack me, are you?” Morgan slid from the bed, keeping it between them like a barrier. He looked down to see that all he had on was his boxers. When Renato didn’t answer him, Morgan glanced back at the man. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“You were bitten by a hell dweller.” Renato sounded haunted. “Inferno incolae, hellhounds. They go by many names.”
“I’ve never been bitten.” Not that he knew of.
“I searched for you when I realized that it was my zaterio who had been attacked,” Renato went on as if Morgan hadn’t said a word. “I searched for over a decade before I finally accepted that you were dead.”
“I think you have the wrong person.” Morgan refused to believe what Renato was saying. He hadn’t been bitten by a hound from hell. “No, no, no. I refuse to believe any of this. It’s all a bad dream. I-I can’t be one of them. I just can’t.”
Now more than ever Morgan needed a drink. He needed more than a drink. He needed an entire case of rum. He couldn’t handle this. For too many years he’d heard Renato’s voice in his head. Morgan knew about the suffering, the heartache, and the depression the man had gone through. He also knew that Renato had tried to take his own life more than once. When Renato hurt, so had Morgan. He’d felt the man’s pain, had shared in it at times. And now he stared at the voice that had, at times, brought him comfort as well, and Renato looked so lost and tortured that Morgan felt his heart breaking for the guy.
“How did I hear you in my head all these years?”
Renato’s gaze snapped to Morgan. His dark brows furrowed as he slowly shook his head. “You heard me?”
“It started when I woke up in this crappy motel room with no memory of who I was. I thought I was crazy when I heard your voice.” He left out the part about drinking his liver into havoc. The man looked tortured enough already. “I’ve been hearing it on and off for the past twenty years.”
Renato’s puzzled expression turned to guilt, with a touch of embarrassment. “How much do you know about me? What have you heard?”
Morgan took a seat on the bed. His head was pounding, and he was still tired. He should’ve been terrified of Renato, but now that the initial shock had worn off, oddly enough, it felt as if he was talking to the voice, an old friend. “Enough.”
Renato’s jaw flexed even harder. “My shame?”
“No.” Morgan shook his head. “Your pain. There’s a difference. Believe it or not, there were times when I suffered right along with you.”
Renato glanced away.
“But I’ve also found comfort in your voice, too.”
Renato glanced back at him.
“There have been a lot of…bizarre things going on in my life. Truth be told, you made me feel less of a freak at times.”
“But I’ve never heard your voice,” Renato said. “Except once, and that was early this morning.” The man’s arms flexed, as if he was trying to hug himself tighter. “Were you really trying to hurt yourself?”
Renato’s words were like a punch to Morgan’s gut. He looked at Morgan’s bandaged hand as Morgan reeled from the fact that Renato had heard him. Feeling exposed, he tucked his hand behind him. “No, it was an accident.”
Because I heard your voice and wanted it to go away.
Now that he had a real person to go with that voice, Morgan wasn’t sure what to do.
You wanted me to go away?
Morgan’s head snapped up when he heard Renato in his head. That same pained expression from earlier was back, the one that looked as if Renato was being stabbed in his heart. “How…how can you talk to me that way?”
“You’re my zaterio. It’s part of our bond.”
“Then why have you never heard me in your head before today?”
Renato shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.”
The man still looked dejected. Morgan felt guilty. “I didn’t know you were a real person, Renato. You were just a voice, and I thought I was crazy. It’s not that I was rejecting you, but put yourself in my shoes. What would you think if you woke up with a wiped memory and a voice in your head?”
“I would’ve preferred that instead of…” Renato ran a hand over his face. “You need rest.”
Morgan could see that he wasn’t getting through to the guy. Renato still appeared heartbroken. Morgan still wasn’t sure if he believed everything that was going on, still couldn’t wrap his head around it all, but he wasn’t sure what to do to make Renato understand. He hadn’t been out to hurt the guy’s feelings.
“I’ll have food brought in to you.”
When Renato headed for the door, Morgan stood and held up a hand. “Renato, can’t you see my side of this?”
The man gave Morgan a wry smile. There was no humor in it, only sadness. “I’ve seen every side to this and then some. My suffering isn’t your concern. I saw the truth in your eyes when you your thoughts told me you wanted me to go away.”
Morgan reached for Renato, but the man jerked his arm away and left the room, closing the door behind him. In that moment, Morgan wished he had the voice back. Dealing with the man in person left him feeling even more lost and alone than he’d ever felt before.
Chapter Six
Renato had been mentally fucked for so long that he didn’t know how to be mentally un-fucked. The loss that he’d lived with was no longer there, but the bite of rejection stung his very soul. He should be in there claiming his mate, but his pride rose to the forefront. Renato wasn’t going to go near Morgan when it was painfully obvious that his zaterio didn’t want him.
Renato gave a humorless laugh. “Only you would find your dead zaterio and be rejected.”
Heading for the exit, Renato kept his appointment with Crow. Releasing the pain wasn’t his goal tonight. Maybe getting some sense whipped into him might stop Renato from going after Morgan. The mating heat was still there, was still as strong as it had been before, but it seemed he would go mad instead of putting out the blaze.
He had two days to claim Morgan before he went completely insane, and six hours had already passed. From the way things were going so far, he might as well go find Nazaryth and ask the commander to put him out of his misery. Why prolong things?
Renato found Theo in the kitchen. Nazaryth’s mate stood at the counter making a root beer float. He never understood the wolf shifter’s love for that particular dessert. Renato had tried it once, and it had felt as if a thousand needles were poking him in the head. Theo had called it brain freeze. “Can you make Morgan something to eat?”
Theo glanced up and smiled. He was the only man in the castle, besides Jaycee, who Renato couldn’t get snarly with. It was hard when Theo’s smile lit up the man’s face. “I can do that for you. Is there something in particular he likes?”
Renato hadn’t a clue. He knew nothing about Morgan. “I’m not sure.”
“I’ll whip him up something light,” Theo said. “From what I heard, he had an exhausting day.”
Theo was the master of understatements. Renato still wondered what Morgan had tried to shift into, but deep down in his gut, he knew. The dwellers’ presence had forced the shift. Nothing else made sense, except the fact that Morgan was, at least partly, hellhound. It was universally ironic that Renato’s zaterio was one of the creatures Renato was sworn to destroy. He wondered if any of his brethren felt the same way.
As if of equal minds, Nazaryth stepped into the kitchen. “We need to talk.”
“About?” Renato was already on edge. The mating heat was burning him up, and he was running behind for his appointment.
“Morgan.” Nazaryth leaned against the counter. “We all know what he started to shift into.”
“Your point?” Renato’s defenses slammed into place.
“My point is,” Nazaryth said, the irritation clear in his eyes, “that we don’t know anything about his condition.”
His condition. What a joke. Nazaryth made it sound as if Morgan had leprosy or something. “You think he’ll shift and attack us?”
The thought had briefly fluttered through Renato’s mind.
“Not sure, but what if the hounds can see things through Morgan? His condition is very unique, Renato. It’s never happened before. We have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”
“Is that why you sent Kyle to Zeus’s?”
Nazaryth’s eyes tightened. “He’s a nonmate. He doesn’t belong here.” It was a flat-out statement, and the man’s voice held no apology.
Kyle was the least of Renato’s concerns, but he knew Morgan would sooner or later ask about his friend. Zeus’s home was a virtual fortress, and if the hounds wanted to use Morgan’s friend as bait, they’d have a hard time getting inside to fetch the impala shifter.
“So what do you want me to do?” Renato asked. “Give my zaterio brain damage so no hounds can see things through his mind?”
“Don’t be a wiseass,” Nazaryth said. “I just want you to watch what you say and do around him until we figure this out.”
Now Nazaryth made it sound as though Morgan was a double agent. He was tired of the conversation already. Renato didn’t believe that Morgan could be used as some kind of bridge between the hounds and the winged beasts. It was ridiculous, and he wasn’t going to entertain the idea.
“Here you go.” Theo handed Renato the plate.
“Can’t you take it to him?” Renato asked.
Theo’s brows rose. “Um, okay.”
Nazaryth looked Renato over. He had a knowing look in his eyes. “Going somewhere?”
“I won’t be long.” Renato headed for the exit. He hated when his commander gave him that look—a look that said he knew exactly where Renato was going and he highly disapproved. If Nazaryth had felt an ounce of the pain Renato had lived with, the guy would give him an escort to Crow.
But nobody knew, and Renato wouldn’t wish what he’d gone through on anybody. He was still completely confused and downright rejected, but he’d deal with that. Just as he’d dealt with everything else in his miserable life.
“Make sure you have your cell phone on you,” Nazaryth said as he walked out of the kitchen.
Renato pulled it from his leather and held it up before he made his way down to the hangar. Guilt ate at him for leaving Morgan, but Renato needed this. He actually craved it. The whip was his release, his punishment, and a way to make him feel again. Even though Morgan was alive, and Renato had found his zaterio, two decades of pain and suffering had a way of changing a man.
He’d never be who he’d been before that fateful day. That Renato was long gone. He was nothing more than a shell of a man, and Morgan deserved better. Maybe after Renato was put down for going mad, Morgan could find a decent man who could appreciate what he had to offer. Renato had nothing to offer except bitterness and heartache. His zaterio didn’t want him, and maybe that was for the best. Renato was broken, and Morgan would do well to realize that now and run as fast and as far as he could.
Morgan woke when he heard the bedroom door open. He turned over in the bed and saw Renato heading across the room, making a beeline for the bathroom.
Renato was shirtless, and his back was a bloody mess. Morgan slid from the bed and hurried over to Renato. “What happened to your back?”
“It’s nothing.” Renato tried to keep going, but Morgan jumped in front of him and held out his hands.
“Did someone
attack you?”
Renato leaned toward Morgan and sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”
“You answer my question and I’ll answer yours.” Cold wrapped around Morgan. The look in Renato’s eyes was haunting, exhausted. For a brief second they softened, but then they became guarded.
“I need a shower.”
Morgan wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to looking into the face of the man who was attached to the voice. He’d tried so hard for so long to drown it out. Now that he stood next to Renato, he wished he’d tried to reach the man instead. “You’re not the only one fighting inner demons, Renato. Yours might be a different flavor, but they’re still demons.”
Morgan stilled when Renato reached out and brushed his fingers over his shoulder. The touch was light, and Renato’s voice was barely above a whisper. He looked at Morgan’s shoulder before his eyes flickered to his face. “Where were you bitten?”
“I-I don’t know.”
Renato snatched his hand away, as if suddenly realizing what he was doing. Morgan stared into the man’s pretty brown eyes and held his breath, wondering what Renato would do next. There was pain in Renato’s eyes, but there was also a beast in there, lurking just behind his irises. This man wasn’t one to trifle with. He was powerful. Morgan felt it rush along his skin. He also felt a great amount of heat coming off of Renato in waves. The man was sweating, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly.
Morgan knew this man. He might not have met Renato in the physical form before today, but he knew the guy inside and out. He’d lived with the voice long enough to learn Renato. It was ironic how he’d been connected to the guy for so long, and now that he stood in front of him, it was as if there were thousands of miles between them. Renato was closed off, and he’d even managed to shut his voice out of Morgan’s head. Morgan had damn near killed his liver trying to quiet the voice, and now that it was silent, ironically, Morgan missed it.
