by Dannika Dark
“I just assumed you were going to open the rear doors.”
“You’ll never win a fight if you’re expecting someone to save you.”
I stumbled over the boxes and shoved at him. “Get out.”
“Are we going to quarrel over whether or not I should have rescued the damsel in distress?”
I followed him out the door and then stared down at my bleeding leg. “No, but we’re a team. If I tell you he’s getting in the back, you’re supposed to head him off at the pass.”
“I couldn’t break the doors. You tossed the keys over the side, remember? How the feck would we transport all those bloody weapons with the rear doors swinging wide open?”
I leaned against the van and caught my breath. “Point taken. What do you think we should do with these guys?”
Christian had a wicked sense of humor, and something was spinning like a carnival ride in that twisted head of his. “You leave that to me.”
With my hand held out, I captured the rays of the sun on my fingertips and pulled in healing light. It entered my body like hot water, and the long gash on my calf mended together, leaving behind only a smear of blood.
Christian hurriedly snaked his arm about my waist and whirled me around. His lips pressed a kiss to my neck. “I get hard watching you in action.”
I nipped his earlobe. The feeling was mutual. Despite his lack of chivalry, I liked that he let me fight my own battles. Most men wouldn’t. Christian had spent years working as a bodyguard, so it couldn’t have been as easy as he made it seem to stand on the sidelines. It proved he respected me as an equal.
I leaned back and ran my fingers across his nape. “Do what you want with these guys, but hurry. We’ve gotta go.”
“Go where, Precious? Your keys are on the roof of another building. We’re stranded. Perhaps we should make the most of it.”
As much as the idea of having sex on a bed of weapons titillated me, I slipped out of his grasp and peered over the ledge. The building next door was shorter, but they weren’t apartments. There was no way we’d be able to infiltrate business offices without them calling the police. They probably had security cameras inside and employee badges.
I strode back to the van and worked a kink out of my shoulder. “I’ve got an idea.”
He stared at me carefully. “You’re not thinking about it.”
I gave him a cocksure grin and tapped the toe of my shoe against the asphalt. “Doing is better than thinking.”
Before he could retort, I balled up my energy and flashed toward the low ledge. As I hurtled over the wall, I kicked off the edge to launch myself farther. Ten feet of thin air separated me from the adjacent building, and for the first time, I knew what Blue must feel when she soared across the sky.
Free.
Powerful.
Alive.
Chapter 3
Christian and I didn’t tarry with delivering the weapons. After stripping the clothes off the yuppie, Christian drank him almost dry so he could remove the crucifix without a fight. By the time I returned with the keys, Christian had placed the Mage spread-eagle on the hood of his car. He’d also destroyed their phones and crushed their keys to make sure they had a memorable walk home.
Aside from the unexpected ambush, it was a simple operation. Shortly before arriving at our destination, Christian called Viktor to alert the arms dealer. Despite our success, Christian and I decided that Viktor didn’t need to know the finer points of our mission. We’d completed the task, and that was all that mattered. Besides, we enjoyed the diversion.
Perhaps more than the mission itself.
I snuck into Shepherd’s medical room on the first floor and used wet paper towels to wash the blood off my leg.
How in the world did that guy know we were transporting something valuable? By the way those men were acting, the ambush hadn’t appeared to be planned. Their Corvette could barely fit two men, let alone five boxes of weapons. But the timing of the traffic lights screwing up was also kind of strange. I wadded up the paper towel and tossed it into the trash.
“A quick trip, huh?”
I whirled around.
Shepherd leaned against the doorjamb and stared at the bloody paper towels in the wastebasket.
“I started my period,” I said flatly.
We both knew that I would never have a monthly cycle again, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying the joke.
“I’ve never had trouble dropping off weapons. You two go out, and it’s a bloodbath.”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“Whatever you say, honey.” Despite his steely expression, Shepherd’s eyes danced with amusement.
He scratched his neck, his eyes on the paper towels. “You might want to dispose of your bodily fluids in the other trash can. The one with the lid and plastic bag.”
I lifted the small wastebasket and then stepped on the pedal to the larger can, dumping the contents inside. “Are there psychics in the Breed world?”
He shrugged. “Haven’t you heard of Mentalists?”
I leaned against the counter. “Yeah. But the guy who singled out our van wasn’t a Mage. I’m not sure what his Breed was,” I said, thinking about the guy in the red shorts. He couldn’t have been a Shifter, so that narrowed it down to a Relic or Sensor.
“Anything goes in our world.” Shepherd dipped his chin. “You weren’t talking about the weapons while in the van, were you?”
“No, Viktor told us not to. Besides, neither of these guys were Vamps. I don’t know. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
He sighed heavily. “Shit happens. Just make sure you’ve got a big mop to clean it up.”
I nudged him aside as I exited the room. “That’s a visual I didn’t need.”
“On that note, dinner’s ready,” he announced, following behind me.
Up ahead, Hunter went flying toward the dining room. All I saw were his little flailing arms and wild black hair.
I slowed down to let Shepherd catch up. “Is he still sleeping in his room?”
“As far as I know, he isn’t sneaking out.”
“That’s good. Have you taken him shopping?”
“Nah. I think he’s afraid of leaving Keystone too many times. Like maybe one day I won’t bring him back. I’m not gonna push it.” Shepherd heaved a sigh. “I don’t know if he’ll ever recover from Patrick’s brainwashing.”
Despite having grown up in a wealthy home, Hunter had been denied love and given too many restrictions. Someone must have shown him physical affection as a baby, perhaps a nanny who cared for him in the early years. Viktor said that children completely deprived of interaction and touch often became emotionally unstable. Hunter was smart and occasionally affectionate, but he was also quiet. The poor kid had grown up without a name—without an identity. Living with Keystone was a whole new world for him, and everyone did their best to give him attention when he was around.
We strolled down the dark hall that led to the dining room. The last remaining hours of sunlight were trickling in through the window behind Viktor’s chair. As always, Kira had lit the candles on the iron chandelier and sconces on the wall. The candles on the table brought out the golden hues in the aged wood.
Viktor had already filled everyone’s glasses with red wine, with the exception of Gem’s. It looked like she and Hunter were sipping on apple juice. I passed Niko, then Blue, and finally Christian as I took my seat to Viktor’s left. I shook out my napkin and set it in my lap, curious to see what was on tonight’s menu.
“May I?” Gem asked, eyeballing the large silver bowl in front of her.
Viktor gulped his wine and nodded.
Her eyes widened as she lifted the silver dome. Steam clouded in front of her face for a moment before her excitement deflated. “That’s a lot of white rice.”
Wyatt tapped the dome between us with his fork. “How much you wanna bet we got more in here?”
I lifted the lid, revealing what looked like a quinoa salad. “How much did we be
t again?”
He took off his loose beanie and hooked it over the ear of his chair. “Doesn’t count.”
Kira appeared from the kitchen with a long platter in her hands. She always had on a plain dress, and tonight was no different. Her sleeves were rolled up, and the blue apron tied around her waist had stains. Gem and Shepherd parted like the Red Sea as she set the platter in front of them.
Gem drew in a deep breath. “That smells divine!”
We devoured the dish with our eyes because there was a lot of artistry in her presentation. Lemon slices were neatly arranged across herbed chicken. We weren’t exactly sure how Kira did it, but she tenderized her chicken and infused the flavors in the meat so skillfully that it was fit for royalty.
“Dibs on the drumsticks,” Wyatt called out as Shepherd reached for a thigh and a breast.
Kira returned with two baskets of yeast rolls, and Viktor gave her an appreciative nod before she left the room. She never interrupted us during dinner. After an hour, she would serve dessert or a cheese platter. Kira ate her own meals separate from the team, which felt a little sad but necessary since we discussed sensitive cases at the table.
While we passed the plates around, Viktor refilled his glass. The only time he drank wine that generously was when something was troubling him.
“Are there any small bowls?” Niko asked.
Gem blinked and shot to her feet. “Oh, I’ll get one.”
Niko rarely asked for special accommodations because of his blindness. He told us that in the early days, before there were forks or spoons, he would use either chopsticks or his hands. Niko had no trouble with silverware and eating most foods, but spoons were easier, and a bowl allowed him to eat rice faster.
Gem returned and set the bowl in front of his plate. “It’s in front of you.”
“Thank you.”
Blue split her roll and buttered the inside. “Are you going to share what’s on your mind, Viktor?”
He cut into his chicken. “I have accepted an important group assignment. If any of you are still working on individual jobs, please bring them to a stopping point tonight. With the exception of Gem—continue the translations I’ve given you. Wyatt, I will need to pull you aside for assistance.”
Wyatt gave him a two-finger salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Christian drank his wine and set it by his empty plate. “What’s the job?”
Viktor finished his bite and wiped his beard with a napkin. “I cannot tell you anything until we get there.”
I jerked my head back. “Get where?”
“I do not mean to imply that any of you will spill our secrets, but there are too many risks, so I cannot give you information at this time. A Vampire might charm you and accidentally discover the details of our assignment. If he commits memory theft and scrubs you afterward, how would I know that our mission is compromised? A gifted Sensor might read your emotions and know you’re hiding something big. Nyet. I have given this much thought. Christian knows a small piece of the plan but not everything, including the destination. Wyatt, I will need you to secure travel arrangements. I do not want you sharing this with anyone.”
“Can’t we all collaborate?” he asked.
“Better the right hand does not know about the left.”
“What the left is doing.” Gem corrected him, her eyes never leaving her plate as she gobbled up her quinoa salad.
“Spasibo.” Viktor lifted his fork and knife. “Once we arrive at the first location, I will explain everything.”
Niko’s spoon clinked against his plate as he set it down. “When do we leave?”
“When I say.”
“What shall we pack?”
“Only what will fit in a small bag. I do not want you to weigh yourself down with nonsense you do not need.”
That narrowed it down to comfortable shoes and a hoodie.
“Pack tonight,” he continued. “Keep your phones turned on. I am waiting for my contact to give me the signal, and I do not want to be searching for you. Nobody leaves the house unless I say.”
Holding a pensive look, Shepherd cracked his knuckles. “How long is this trip?”
Viktor pushed food around on his plate with his fork but said nothing.
Claude gulped down his water and cleared his throat. “Viktor, I have a business to run. Can I at least have an estimated time of return so my employees don’t panic? Two weeks? Two years?”
Viktor chuckled and scooped up his rice. “Days or weeks. No more than that unless we run into trouble. Tell them you are going on vacation.”
Shepherd removed a box of cigarettes from beneath his sleeve and wedged a brown filter between his lips. Instead of using a match, he craned forward and lit his smoke on a candle. “Is this something you need me for? I’ve got… responsibilities.”
“We all have responsibilities,” Viktor reminded him. “We have spoken about this. You cannot turn away from your obligations due to your… responsibilities.”
Neither of them said Hunter’s name aloud, but that was who they were talking about. The little boy ignored the adults while he tore his chicken into a million pieces on his plate.
Viktor picked a grain of rice off his silver mustache. “Kira is here.”
Shepherd blew out a cloud of smoke. “Kira is busy doing all kinds of shit, and you’ve got Gem and Wyatt working on stuff. That doesn’t give me any peace of mind.”
Sensing a well-timed opportunity, I folded my arms on the edge of the table. “Gentlemen, I have a proposition.”
Wyatt steepled his fingers and studied me closely. “This should be juicy.”
I looked between Shepherd and Viktor. Better now than never. “I think everyone here would agree that Hunter needs a tutor. None of us have the time or skills to educate him, not unless you want to give him classes on how to break legs and hack into the FBI. Trips like these are exactly why we need a nanny. Someone whose sole job is to look after him.”
Viktor sighed, and when he spoke, his hands were animated. “I have reservations. There are too many secrets within these walls. Too many artifacts, books, weapons, Wyatt’s computers, paperwork, and our conversations. I cannot look over my shoulder in my own home, worried that someone might be listening.”
“Do you worry about Kira?”
“She is family to me.”
“Switch is like family to me.”
Gem’s eyes widened. “You mean the long-haired Shifter we met at your father’s house? He’s kind of dreamy.”
Christian shifted in his seat.
I lifted my wine and swallowed a mouthful before setting the glass back down. “This is what Switch does for a living. He’s not only a nanny but also a teacher. He educates kids of all ages, and besides, he’s a wolf. That’s better protection than if you hired a Relic. Maybe he’ll act as Hunter’s watchdog. Look, I trust him with my life. He comes from a good pack.”
Viktor struggled with his words before switching to Russian.
Gem bit her bottom lip for a second as she mentally translated. “He says that Switch belongs to a pack. We need someone as a… live-in.”
“Spasibo. Why is it simple words I struggle with?”
Gem’s necklace tapped against the edge of the table when she leaned over her plate. “Nothing is simple when it comes to language.”
Gem often conversed entirely in Russian with Viktor. Just not when others were in the room.
I sat back and redirected the conversation. “That’s not a problem. Switch comes from a good pack, but he doesn’t belong to one. He’s independent. He hasn’t chosen a permanent family to live with yet.”
Viktor’s grey eyes narrowed with that look he sometimes got when we were withholding information. “And why is that? If he is so talented, Packmasters would be fighting over him.”
I tried not to make the next sentence sound as dramatic as it really was. “There’s something you should know, and I hope you’ll keep an open mind. We’re a second-chance group here, and I
think it’s only fair the same should apply to anyone who works for you.”
Shepherd flicked his cigarette ash into the candle tray. “Spill it.”
“One of the kids he was watching was being abused by an uncle or something. Instead of reporting it to the Packmaster, Switch took matters into his own hands and killed the man. That’s why he’s not in a pack. People trust him with their kids, but the Packmasters won’t take a chance on packmates who might break the chain of command.”
Everyone stole a glance at Hunter, who was blowing bubbles in his drink through a straw. He giggled when he noticed us watching. After a few more bites of his food, he crawled underneath the table.
“Is that all there is to the story?” Shepherd pressed, his dark eyes searching mine.
“You can verify it with any of the Packmasters in his territory.”
“That’s it? The packs don’t want him because he killed a lowlife who had it coming?”
“That is the pack way,” Viktor interjected. “The alpha has absolute power, and when Switch killed the perpetrator, he took that honor away from the Packmaster.”
Shepherd stared at the tendril of smoke rising from his cigarette. “Do you trust him?”
I shared a glance with everyone at the table. “He’s loyal. I don’t know if he’ll even want the job, but his prospects aren’t exactly looking up. He’s living in a shitty apartment, and I think this would be a good way for him to build up his income. We could be the substitute pack that he’s been looking for, and you can trust him with Hunter. I grew up around Switch, and he’s always been good with kids. Patient, kind, attentive—it’s like he was born to do this job.”
Viktor quietly listened, his eyes fixed on his plate. Even if Shepherd was all in, it was still up to the boss.
“We’re not exactly a pack,” I pointed out. “He’ll respect your rules, but if—God forbid—someone ever hurt the boy, do you really want the kind of person who would sit on their ass and do nothing?”
Shepherd stubbed out his cigarette. “If anyone ever lays a finger on my son, I want them six feet under.”
“Then Switch is your man. He’s not a killer; he’s a protector.”
