Fragments (Daughters of the Alphas Book 2)

by Aya DeAniege

  They were too sensitive to scents to not wash the sheets after sex.

  That may have been why the blankets had been kicked away, but didn’t explain anything else that was going on.

  Goodness knew how Alphas had survived before running water. Though, one of them probably invented plumbing for just that purpose.

  Half of their inventions and discoveries had been because one of them had looked around and decided something wasn’t good enough for their pompous ass. Regular people had use of those items only because free trade led to other Alphas sharing their discoveries and made the lives of the princesses all that much more fluffy and comfortable.

  The companions, though? We just got broken and had to live with it. It never mattered what we wanted, all that mattered was a stupid fucking Alpha, and what he wanted. He might keep our personality together, do it out of love, but it didn’t have to be requited love.

  I snapped the bar of soap up and washed myself angrily. It was one of those washes. Making hand motions and talking to myself in the shower because I was so angry. Only saying half sentences and repeating things over and over because I was too pissed off to only say it once. It had that bitter tone to the edge of it which only made me angrier because no one was solving the problem, and I’d have to fix it all.

  Again.

  Again?

  I didn’t even know what I meant by that thought. My hands were tangled in my hair, soap suds trailing down the side of my face because I had used too much shampoo. I had given the bottle a squeeze of emphasis and had squirted too much into my hand. As I wasn’t the one paying for the shampoo—and heaven help anyone who tried to make me—I had decided to use it instead.

  Which led to soap oozing down and over my eye just a brief moment after I shut it, and two or so moments after I had realized that I was thinking something and didn’t know where that line of thought had come from.

  Maybe I wasn’t whole. Maybe I was still broken, but someone had cracked something new and the resulting personality had split off the previous one, becoming more volatile than before. Maybe I had been sold to an Alpha without telling him that fact. Companions removed from Alphas were notoriously weepy, not screaming and clawing at the eyes.

  Though, I hadn’t reached the point of clawing his eyes out because he had run before I had a chance to raise my hands, so that couldn’t have been it.

  I dipped my head backwards into the water and rinsed the shampoo from my hair. Then I went about conditioning my hair.

  With my hair clean, I went about the process of washing my skin once more. I found a razor on the shelf. It was a man’s razor, but some men liked to shave their parts too. I used that and conditioner to shave my legs.

  Why? Because I preferred conditioner to soap when there was no shaving cream, that’s why.

  After washing once more, I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair and stood under the water for some time.

  I could feel the weariness setting in, the tears prickling at the backs of my eyes. The unwillingness to face the world. People would know what had happened to me, what I was struggling with, and I had no idea what was going on. I couldn’t protect myself, if they knew and I didn’t.

  I certainly couldn’t do it if I was breaking down every two seconds.

  Taking in a breath, I firmly told myself that was it. That was the last of the weakness and from then forward I was to focus on the task at hand.

  And I broke down into tears.

  I didn’t want to. I just didn’t want to anything. Not live, not breathe, not face the world, I didn’t want to anything. I just wanted to curl back up in bed and never leave again. Hide under the covers until I died and kick anyone who came for me.

  I was not strong, I would never be strong. I would only ever be a shadow of what I had once been, because someone else had decided that I would play the victim to their twisted fantasy. Someone else had broken me and I had to be the one to put the pieces together, because no one else would.

  Dragging in a shaky, long breath, I blinked away the tears and faced the wall as that unsettling thought echoed through my mind.

  No one else is going to fix me, but me.

  If I just gave in, Owen would win. He was still out there somewhere, and he had to pay.

  That was reason enough not to go back to bed. I reached out and shut off the water, stepping out of the shower almost at the same time, so that I couldn’t end up staying there instead of getting a move on.

  In order to hunt down an Alpha and kill him, I needed some things.

  First and foremost, I had to dry and find clothing, so I did that. Clothing was easy. As it turned out there was a set placed on an ottoman at the end of the bed. I put it on and went back to the bathroom, finding a brush to pull through my hair. I didn’t find a hairdryer, but few Alphas had need for them. Most companions were male and most of those kept their hair short.

  If an Alpha wanted to share his bed with a woman, he found a woman.

  There was, however, a toothbrush, mouthwash, and a facial cleanser. I did all that without looking in the mirror.

  I tried to look, I did, but the idea of setting eyes on myself made me want to cry. I didn’t feel any scarring on my face, but for all I knew I had been branded with a tattoo or something. I didn’t want to see, but I wanted to feel cleaner, so I went about the ritual without looking.

  When I was done, I leaned over the sink, keeping my eyes on the fine porcelain as I thought.

  Next thing a I needed to kill an Alpha?

  Food. I didn’t know when the last time I had eaten was, but I was betting it had been a while, even if my stomach had that locked down feeling. I wasn’t craving anything in particular, and the very idea of food turned my stomach. I didn’t want to eat, but I was determined not to topple over the first time someone looked at me. Lower blood sugar made a person weak, and Alphas were stronger than the average person simply because they had been training their whole lives for war.

  There was a little kitchenette attached to the room. In there, I found a fully stocked fridge with frozen dinners in the freezer and several meals worth of leftovers in the fridge itself, along with a chilled coffee drink that I was a fan of.

  To put it bluntly, the fridge looked like it had been stocked to bribe me into eating. That spoke of due care. Maybe someone had saved me, and was determined to care for me. Maybe I had scared the man who had killed Owen and rescued me. Maybe my being with him was consensual.

  I wouldn’t know until I got out of the room, and I couldn’t leave until I ate, just in case.

  Because if Owen hadn’t died, I was going to gut him.

  With his own tongue.

  I grabbed one of the drinks and something from the freezer.

  For the five minutes that the microwave did its work, I looked over the room, trying to take in whatever I could. I decided the estate had to be that of a Master. Not necessarily Blane, given the stretch marks and the fact that a great deal of time had passed.

  The difference between a Master and landed wealth was a slightly higher quality. Landed Alphas were still recovering from the war. Masters were paid taxes by those living in their territory, and had their lives sorted out, their estates were updated with the most recent stuff.

  It was entirely possible that Owen had taken over Blane’s territory and become Master. I couldn’t see that going over well with Abraham. He kept Owen on as a Dom, but he wasn’t one to suffer stupidity from his Masters. As it was the job of the Masters to control the Doms, Abraham wouldn’t have interfered with Owen’s lands unless Owen broke the law, or if someone had contact him.

  I might have even been the one to contact him.

  Abraham trusted his Masters to handle their land. And if they didn’t, he swept in and took them out, then culled the Doms. I couldn’t quite put a finger on how I knew that, as it hadn’t happened before my lost memories, but I felt like Abraham had done that.

  The building didn’t scream Owner though. At least, I think that’s w
hat the Alphas were calling Abraham, Owner. He was the top Alpha of the nation. Most still simply called him by his name, because that was all he needed, but rumour, yes…

  There had been a rumour that Abraham was looking for his heir.

  Or had chosen one, I couldn’t recall.

  His predecessor had been about Abraham’s age when he had stepped aside for Abraham to rule.

  An older Alpha had no trouble keeping the younger pups in line, but why spend one’s entire life fending off challengers when one had the chance to simply enjoy life for a bit?

  Except, I felt as if Abraham had told me that, not others.

  The microwave beeped in an annoyed fashion. Its internal timer protesting that it had been holding the food for some time and no one had come to get it. That reminder beep.

  I jabbed the door button in annoyance and took out the food, then dropped it on the counter, glaring at it as if it were my enemy.

  In a way, it was.

  I was definitely hungry, but my stomach was too locked down to eat. I’d have to force myself to eat, and that was never a pleasant sensation. Determined, but still hesitant, I grabbed a fork and opened the package. Convincing myself into that first bite was the hardest part.

  Food into mouth, food into mouth, food into…

  I grimaced and lowered the fork. There were several minutes of huffing and growling, both at myself and the food, before I picked up the fork again and brought the food almost to my mouth.

  My women will not be fat.

  The fork almost lowered, but instead, I opened my mouth and stuffed the food inside defiantly. The flavour made me moan. Someone had definitely stocked the fridge with feeding me in mind.

  After that, getting food into me was a simple matter of not stopping. I liked the food, and I was starving as if I hadn’t eaten in days, which was probably true. When the container was empty, I scraped the sides to get the last of the sauce on my fork. Then I licked the fork and considered the empty dish.

  My stomach roiled, threatening to toss up its contents. I’m not certain what stopped it from doing just that, but I didn’t enjoy the feeling for a moment. I gulped several times and went for the sink, thinking I was about to vomit. Nothing came up, thankfully.

  I opened the cupboard above the sink and muttered a silent curse. I never understood people who didn’t put the cups and glasses directly above or beside the sink. That was the logical place for them to be. Water came out of the sink therefore glasses go beside the sink. Not four cupboards over and on the other side of the kitchenette.

  Grumbling about disorganization, I poured myself a glass of water and drank as much as I could. Once the glass was beside the sink once more, I turned and found the chilled coffee by the fridge, condensation gathering on the sides and leaving a puddle on the counter.

  Sighing, this time at my own stupidity, I grabbed a cloth and used it to wipe up the water, then opened the coffee. I drank the coffee and considered the room before me.

  I was washed, clothed, and fed.

  Now what?

  I needed the gun and Suzy.

  What gun?

  Startled, I stiffened and looked around the room.

  And who is Suzy?

  I had that awkward moment of uncertainty. Of recalling a bit of a dream, a false memory that resurfaced, that’s what I convinced myself for a moment. Then I simply gave up on it entirely. If that had been my plan before, it was no longer viable.

  There was no gun. Masters didn’t deal with guns, they hated the things. They all knew how to handle guns, because they had learned how in the army and during the civil war, but they wouldn’t allow the things into their homes. Any companion who entered was searched.

  Or seduced and sexed up and their clothing was searched while they were busy.

  I looked down at the clothing I had put on. They had a lived in feeling, meaning that they weren’t brand new, but also a clean feeling.

  Except the underwear.

  It had been freshly washed but also new, it was hard to explain how I knew that, but I was grateful for it. Clean underwear that had never been worn by someone else wasn’t something one would ever think they would reminisce about, but there I was, trying to recall the last time I hadn’t been in someone’s hand-me-down underwear. Maybe if I knew that, I’d know what in the hell had happened to me.

  Without the gun and Suzy—whoever Suzy was—I’d need a new plan to kill an Alpha. That would take time, but that was fine. I was a patient body. I could take my time, figure out where and when I was, then go from there.

  Which meant that the next thing to do was to leave the room and find another person. Or, barring that, beat on the door until someone let me out or shouted at me.

  Time to wing it.

  I walked to the door and snapped it open as a hand moved forward and swiped at the air where the door had been a moment before. I looked over the older features, the same hair and eyes as myself. Her eyes had reverse colouring, however.

  “Rachel?” I asked.

  “Rebecca!” she shouted a moment before she tackled me and almost knocked me over in her haste to hug me. “You’re alive!”

  “I should hope so,” I said. “Otherwise this is a very strange heaven.”

  Chapter Two

  She didn’t say anything, just pulled me through the estate.

  Which was about as confusing as it sounds.

  One minute, Rachel greeted me, and, the next, she grabbed me and pulled me along without saying anything at all. I was lost two turns away from the set of rooms and had no idea what was going on.

  Or why I didn’t have shoes.

  Better yet, why Rachel, who was clearly more familiar with the building, didn’t have shoes.

  “We’re going to be late,” she said finally.

  “For what?” I demanded as she pulled me into a room.

  The room was empty of people, but filled with equipment. Gym equipment, workout items. There was a scale on one side and a long mirror by an open area that might have been for dancing.

  At seeing that the room was empty, Rachel stopped and looked around. There was clear annoyance on her face as she turned to me and made a face. I didn’t recognize the face she made, it was new and I couldn’t tell exactly what she was thinking like I normally could.

  “Every day, same time. And today of all days, everyone else is late,” she muttered.

  Ah, that was an annoyed look with just a little of the ‘surrounded by hypocrites’ look that she hadn’t really used since high school.

  Rachel did another turn of the room, then looked up. I did the same.

  There were cameras in the room, little black round things up in the corners on the ceiling. Alphas didn’t need to use such obvious technology. It was my understanding that most of their cameras were a great deal smaller and better hidden.

  The little black rounds were probably meant as a courtesy for guests, a reminder that everything in the building was recorded. It was entirely possible that the black circles were not the actual cameras.

  “Late to what?” I asked again.

  “To workout. I mean, we have weekends off, the body needs a rest, but like, Abraham was supposed to join us and show us some things and Gerrid wanted to be here. Blane’s always here, even when I think I’m early, so where’s he gotten to?”

  Blane and Abraham were names I knew, at least. Gerrid, not so much. The sound of his name, though, made me hot and wet at the same time.

  Maybe he was the one I had woken up beside.

  I’d trust my body’s reaction to the name alone. I wanted to crawl into the Alpha’s lap and purr away as he had his way with me.

  “I don’t know, and Blane?” I asked. “No, wait, Abraham is here?”

  My first thought had been that I was in Blane’s estate. Hearing that it was his estate shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did.

  Abraham, though, him being nearby was surprising.

  Rachel’s eyes closed.

  I had
seen her make just such a motion often in the past. She was counting down from ten, trying to keep her cool. Then was the little, deep breath that she sucked in a second before she opened her eyes and turned to me, smiling in a reassuring manner.

  The smile was creepy, but I knew it was a brittle sort of thing which was hiding an anger that wasn’t directed at me. If she was angry with me, she would say as much about two seconds before she hit me, and I tackled her to the floor for being a bitch again.

  “He didn’t tell you?” she asked with that awkward, fake smile.

  “No, tell me what? Did Abraham decide to take on companions or something?”

  “He didn’t tell you. It’s no wonder none of them are here.”

  Which gave no indication of which ‘he’ was in trouble. If it was Gerrid, we’d have a problem. An odd thing for me to think, but it wasn’t really out of place with all the rest of the crazy that I was encountering.

  “Why aren’t they here, Rachel?”

  “Because I’d beat the shit out of him for finding out that he didn’t tell you.”

  She used to huff and puff and go on with me, but rarely lashed out at others. I had no idea what had happened while we were apart to make her so angry. I couldn’t help her if I didn’t know. And on the chance that she was upset about the whole gap in my memory thing, I wouldn’t be able to help her if she had created a plan and others were messing up that plan.

  “So, why don’t you tell me?” I asked. “Before I mash your face into the floor.”

  I asked it like that as warning. If she didn’t answer, I’d do my best to do just that. I wasn’t certain if I had the same muscle as her, but we still looked to be about the same size.

  “You sound just like Daniella. Overcompensation, that’s what that is.”

  “It’s not overcompensation. I used to win against you all the time,” I snapped.

  “We both won an equal amount,” Rachel said pointedly.

  “What is going on!” I shouted.

  “Owen broke and bred you,” she said. “It’s been two years, four pregnancies, and three living boys.”