by Dannika Dark
“Are you shittin’ me? Both?”
“Make sure he wears his Sensor gloves, and don’t take him out of the mansion while we’re away. The courtyard is fine, but no public places. I still have to train him, but he knows not to touch things with his bare hands. There won’t be much for him to pick up on since most of us will be gone, but I want him to get used to wearing them.”
Switch dipped his chin. “Just so you know, I respect parental guidelines. You’re his old man, so whatever you say goes. All I need to know are the boundaries.”
“Leave bath time to Kira. If he has to use the bathroom, he knows he can use mine.”
Switch glanced down at Shepherd’s gun holster. “You got any weapons in your room?”
“I locked them up. He knows not to mess with those things, but I installed a lock on the armoire just the same.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Lock all the doors and windows at night. He used to wander, but since I gave him this room, he only wanders to my room if he gets scared. But I won’t be here.”
“How about I take one of the rooms in the hall for now? If this trial period works out, I’ll move to a different spot when you come back. I don’t want to confuse him. Just so you know, I understand how important boundaries are. I’ll be his teacher and his watchdog, but you’re the alpha and omega in his life. I’ll make sure to reinforce that.”
Shepherd nodded, surprised by Switch’s candor. “I appreciate that.”
“No worries.”
“And one more thing—don’t stare at his scar.”
“Why the fuck would I?”
“Because people are assholes and do it anyway. He doesn’t talk, and I’m not pushing it. He’s been through a lot.”
“Understood. Who puts him to bed at night?”
“Me.”
Switch drummed his fingers on the dresser. “He needs a substitute. Kids cling to rituals, but I can’t be the stand-in. If he wakes up in the night, I can walk him back in here and read him a story. But tucking him in is a dad thing to do, and I don’t want him forming that kind of bond with me.”
After a second, Shepherd decided Switch was right. “Kira used to do it before. She doesn’t speak English, but she’ll understand if you lead her in here with him.”
“What language does she speak?”
“Some archaic shit that nobody knows but Viktor.”
Switch nodded, his eyes darting over to the bed. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Shepherd turned and smiled at Hunter, who was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Hey there, little man. I got something to tell you.” He sat down on the bed as the door closed behind him. “I’m going away for a little while.”
When he touched Hunter’s hand, he felt excitement, and it confused him.
Hunter jumped out of bed and scampered to the dresser where he kept his clothes.
“No, little man. You have to stay here.”
Hunter turned. His sharp blue eyes filled with worry. He adamantly shook his head.
“I need someone to stay here and look after Gem and Wyatt. They need your protection. Switch will also be here—the wolf you met last night. He’s gonna be your teacher for a while. If you like him, maybe longer.”
Hunter dashed into his arms, and Shepherd felt a pang of guilt. He rumpled the boy’s disheveled hair. “It won’t be for long. Sometimes I gotta go away for work. But I’ll come back.” He put his hands around the boy’s cheeks so he’d feel his sincerity. “I’ll always come back. I promise.”
Emotion flooded into the boy through Shepherd’s hands and calmed him. Sometimes it was the most honest way that the two could communicate.
“I want you to be a good boy and do as you’re told. I’ve got to follow the rules too, and sometimes it’s hard. But we can do it together.”
Teary-eyed, Hunter nodded and backed away. He dug in his drawer until he found his black Zorro mask and put it on.
Crestfallen, Shepherd watched as Hunter reverted to the child who’d lived with Patrick, the one who hid from the world behind a mask when he felt unsafe and alone.
Shepherd rubbed his clean-shaven jaw and briefly entertained the idea of staying. “Tell you what. When I get back, we’ll go buy you some new shoes. Just the two of us on a special trip, and I’ll let you pick out anything you want. Maybe after that we’ll get some ice cream. Or cupcakes.”
Hunter’s eyes lit up. Kids were too easy to distract with bribes. But in this case, Shepherd had every intention of following through on his promises. He had a lot of lost time to make up for.
“And after that we can ride on that mechanical horse you like. Remember?”
Hunter beamed and then galloped to his play table. Wyatt had given him a couple of his toy cars from his work desk, and Hunter rolled them from one end of the table to the other.
Shepherd didn’t want to make this into a big production and wind him up again, so he stood behind him and bent over, letting his hands rest firmly on Hunter’s shoulders.
I love you.
Give me a kiss.
Those were words that Shepherd couldn’t bring himself to say. He’d never said them to anyone but Maggie, and he didn’t feel like he’d earned the right to with Hunter.
So instead he said the only thing that would make sense with the emotions leaking from his fingertips. “I’m gonna miss you, little man. Be good.”
Chapter 6
“Where do you think we’re going?” I asked Christian.
He put his arm around me just as the van hit a bump. “To a land of enchantment.”
“Definitely not your bedroom then,” Blue said, her delivery deadpan. She sat across from us, flanked by Niko and Shepherd.
Christian nudged her boot with his foot. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of enchanting activities that occur in my chamber.”
She studied her unpolished nails. “None of which include cleaning, I’m sure.”
Shepherd barked out a laugh. “She’s got you there, buddy.”
Rushing to Christian’s defense wasn’t something I did often, but I suddenly felt the urge to stick up for him. “I can vouch for the cleanliness of his room. Except for the spiders, there’s hardly anything in there.”
Niko snorted and looked away. “Apologies.”
Shepherd checked something inside his coat, a smile widening his thin lips. “I envisioned a coffin with candy jars everywhere.”
Christian shot him a baleful look. “You’re a real comedian. Anyone ever tell you that?”
Claude slowed down and looked at Viktor. “Which way?”
“Left,” Viktor said from the passenger seat.
None of us had any inkling of where we were going or what our mission would be. Sensing Viktor didn’t want us talking business while in a moving van, we kept the conversation as light as our luggage.
The brakes squealed as we came to a stop.
“I need to check those,” Shepherd muttered.
Blue pulled her loose hair out from the oversized hood of her blue cloak. Both Shepherd and I had on our black leather coats, while Claude was in his brown suede. Even Christian had worn a trench coat, and his pockets must have been stuffed with candy as he unwrapped another butterscotch and popped it into his mouth.
I looked at Blue’s knee-high boots. “Are those comfortable?”
She crossed her legs and patted one. “They’re waterproof. I’ve got a regular walking pair in my bag.”
“Are they hot?”
She tipped her head and gave me a “no shit, they’re hot” look. Blue’s brown skin was flushed and dewy. The sun was heating up the van like an oven, but she looked hotter than the rest of us. While blessed with a womanly body, her features floated between feminine and masculine. Long lashes framed her sapphire-blue eyes, but her thick eyebrows and bone structure gave her the face of a warrior.
I glanced down at my black sneakers. “I was hoping we weren’t going to Canada again. If we are, I’m screwed.”<
br />
“You can never tell with Viktor. What did you pack, amigo?”
Niko raised his head. “Sandals.”
I chuckled. “Sometimes I can’t tell when you’re serious or joking.”
Blue’s smile was as relaxed as her attitude. “We’ll soon find out, and I’m afraid someone here will be ill-prepared.”
“Or maybe we’re all screwed, and Viktor is taking us to a palace,” I suggested.
Viktor turned in his seat. “We’re not going to a palace.”
Blue uncrossed her legs. “Thank the fates.”
Shepherd thumped Christian on the knee with his hand. “Guess that means you should toss your ball gown out the back.”
I could already tell by the banter that this was going to be a lively trip.
Viktor leaned around to look at us. “Your comfort is not my concern. This will teach you a valuable lesson on how to pack lightly for any situation I might throw at you. If you choose poorly, that says less about me than it does about you.” He turned to face the front. “Are you missionaries or tourists?”
We all held back a laugh, certain that Viktor had meant to say mercenaries and not missionaries. That would have been a whole different kind of trip.
“Down here?” Claude asked.
“Slowly,” Viktor instructed him. “Keep the lights off.”
Darkness enveloped the van as we descended a ramp. By the squeal of the tires as we made slow turns, it sounded like a parking garage.
“Make room,” Viktor said.
Room? I thought. Room for what?
“Weapons,” I whispered to Christian.
He retracted his arm, and I scooted directly behind the passenger seat. “I don’t think that’s what we’re doing.”
“What makes you say that?”
Viktor got out of the van while Claude kept the engine running.
Christian cocked his head to the side, and I stayed quiet so he could listen.
“Jaysus wept,” he whispered.
“What’s going on?”
“Come on,” Blue pressed. “Tell us.”
“You’re about to find out,” he said grimly.
The rear doors opened, and three figures climbed inside. My heart ratcheted in my chest when I couldn’t see their faces. It was too dark, and they were all wearing hooded jackets and looking down.
Moments after they sat on the benches and the rear doors closed, Viktor got back inside.
“No talking,” he instructed us. “Not one word until we reach our destination. Do you understand me? Not a single whisper out of any of you.”
“Gotcha,” Blue replied, her posture tense as she stared at our passengers.
Two of the figures sat on Christian’s left, and the third took up the empty spot next to Shepherd. In the dark cab, dimly lit by the instrument panel in the front, I noticed the anxious looks on everyone’s faces. I wondered what Niko could see and what Shepherd felt. They probably had a better sense of what was going on.
As the van ascended the ramp, daylight flooded the interior from the front windows. I leaned forward and got a better look at our passengers. The person next to Christian wore a dark denim jacket with a grey hood. His hands were soft but definitely male. The only other distinguishable feature I could make out was his brown skin and how it matched the person next to him. Not anything like the pale individual sitting beside Shepherd, whom I guessed to be a woman by her slim frame and small feet. She wore a thin ring on her slender finger, her face completely covered by her hood.
What had Christian heard them talking about?
Claude briefly glanced back when we stopped at a light. His nostrils flared, and his golden eyes burned bright.
Viktor reached over and turned on the radio. After skipping over a few channels, he settled on the peppiest song he came across—“Faith” by George Michael.
Blue and I exchanged a look as he cranked up the volume to an uncomfortable level.
The woman sitting beside Shepherd pulled her hood even farther down as she bent over and giggled. The person sitting across from her kicked their foot against hers, and the laughter cut off. Seconds later, she sneezed. When she pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and blew her nose, I shot Christian a startled look. It sounded like she had a cold. Breed don’t get colds, not unless they’re Relics. Were these people defects?
The only Breed I could definitively rule out was Mage. When I tested my theory by flaring, Niko’s gaze snapped up. He shook his head, showing his disapproval. Shepherd must have felt something, because he eyeballed Niko, trying to figure out what had him alarmed. Niko frowned when he didn’t read any guilt or regret in my light. Viktor had said no talking, but he hadn’t said anything about flaring. Because we did it in human establishments to avoid conflict, any Mage would have flared back.
But they didn’t. Not one of them reacted. Even if they’d chosen not to flare back, someone would have recoiled or sat to attention at the amount of energy I’d put out.
I brushed my hands down my jeans to wipe off the residual energy.
Shepherd reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a smoke. When he struck a match and lit up his cigarette, the woman sneezed again.
We all glowered at Shepherd as the van filled with smoke.
He didn’t need to verbalize a curse; it was written all over his face as he stamped out the cigarette beneath the thick tread of his boot.
The woman next to him fanned the air and then pulled her hood tighter over her face.
The next hour was uneventful, nothing but Viktor’s bizarre music selections to fill the silence. I kept my light concealed after that one flare, deciding it was prudent not to draw unwanted attention.
Eventually the van came to a full stop, and the eighties pop music did as well.
Viktor twisted in his seat. “I want everyone to follow behind me. Avoid eye contact, no talking, and conceal your light. Christian, did you bring any sunglasses?”
Christian reached inside his coat and pulled out his dark shades.
“Good. Claude, put yours on as well.”
When Christian put on his glasses, I laughed. He still looked like a Vampire to me.
After we piled out of the van, I took a quick look around. A loud whistle sounded, like the kind a referee uses. With our luggage in hand, we followed Viktor, our guests centered between us. Were these higher authority officials? Arms dealers? The woman who had been sitting by Shepherd was petite like Gem, but she could have been a dangerous felon for all I knew.
An automated announcement came on about warning signals at pedestrian crossings. The clanging grew louder as we walked along a concrete platform, and the whistle was near constant as a train went by the platform at a sluggish pace. The brakes squealed until eventually the train came to a stop.
Blue pretended to be messaging on her phone while Viktor looked at his watch. I didn’t bother to read the company name on the side of the train—it might have been Breed for all I knew. Viktor had told us to keep our eyes low, and that was what I did.
I slung my backpack over one shoulder and followed our group toward the rear. People rose from the outside benches as the doors opened and passengers spilled out. It wasn’t a big station, so there wasn’t a huge crowd to deal with. Not like the subway. That place was a madhouse.
When we reached the last car, a gentleman in a blue shirt and cap greeted us. “Tickets?”
Viktor handed him a stack.
“Very good, Mr. Watson. This is our luxury car, which I’m sure will meet all your needs. Our latest model is roomier than the average passenger train. There’s comfortable seating and a bedroom with two beds. In addition to a private restroom, you’ll have our service staff on call. There’s a private door that separates you from the next car, and it only unlocks from your side. Feel free to roam about the train and join us in the dining car if you need to stretch your legs. Do you have any questions?”
“No,” Viktor said tersely, his American accent forced. “Thank you.�
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“My pleasure. Step inside and proceed through the open door to your right. Have a good trip.”
Everyone boarded, one at a time. When I got on, I spied people through a window on the connecting door to my left. Our door was half-open, but there was no window that would allow someone to spy on us.
I moved inside an open space that led to a passageway on the left. The first room was a bathroom, spacious with a toilet, standing shower, and sink. I walked farther down and stopped at the next door on the right. My jaw dropped when I poked my head in to take a look. It was nothing like the pictures I’d seen of passenger trains. Pastoral paintings hung on the mahogany walls, and a small wooden desk to the left added a dash of sophistication. Above it was a mirror, allowing anyone sitting on the leather stool to gaze at their reflection. Someone had switched on the green desk lamp, which gave the room a warm ambiance. No one would have to worry about a cold floor because a beautiful red rug with intricate gold designs covered it. There were two single beds—one against the left wall and the other straight ahead in the corner. Drapes covered the windows, and a ceiling fan above allowed the air to circulate.
Christian came up behind me. “Now this is what I call traveling in style. I claim the left one.”
“Nice try, Vamp. You don’t sleep.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Who said anything about sleep?”
We strolled to the open area of the car, and I gaped at the design and layout. This place was like a miniature palace. Red carpet blanketed the floor, and a thrill moved through me when I caught sight of the corner bar on my immediate right. Since we were in a moving train, they had locked the alcohol inside wire cabinets to keep the bottles from tipping over.
Claude set his stuff down in a breakfast nook near the bar.
The three figures lingered at the rear of the train, looking out the window.
Viktor approached us. “Relax until the train leaves the station. Then we’ll have drinks.”
That was code talk. Viktor wanted us to keep our mouths shut.
Just past the breakfast nook were booth seats with tables where passengers could play games and look out the window. I could only imagine how beautiful it looked at night when the light from the fixtures mounted between the windows would soak into the mahogany wood. The seats were a plush red fabric with brown tufted leather backings and dividers with wood tops to set your drinks on. Both sides of the train had wide seats facing center in addition to some facing front. You could easily fit two or three people in them. A sofa ran along the left side of the train in front of a large panoramic window, and the back of the car had corner couches that looked comfy as hell. Between the variety in seating and décor, this car was designed for socializing.
