by I. T. Lucas
“That’s all I know. But Richard pointed out that we should find out whether Emmett knows Vrog. If he doesn’t, that will prove that there is more than one community of the Kra-ell.”
Kian let out a long breath. “I hoped that the similarity of the names meant that Emmett’s story was based on Syssi’s Krall scenarios for the Perfect Match studios. I even told William to contact the directors and ask them to check their records. When they couldn’t find Emmett’s name, I suspected that he’d used a fake one. But evidently, she received the information in a vision and didn't imagine it.”
“They are not the same,” Stella said. “Richard and I chose the Krall experience as our virtual adventure. They had forked tongues and black on black eyes. If that was true of the Kra-ell, they wouldn’t have been able to hide what they were unless they were really good shrouders.” Her eyes widened. “Vlad is an exceptionally talented shrouder. He’s not as powerful as Yamanu, but he’s probably the second-best in the entire clan.”
63
Bowen
As Bowen lifted the box of chocolates, Margaret smiled and raised her hand to stop him from offering it to her. “I can’t eat another piece.”
“Are you sure? I can make you another cup of tea to wash it down.”
“I would love another cup of tea, but no more chocolates.” She rubbed her flat tummy.
“Coming up.” He pushed to his feet and walked into the kitchen.
“You’re spoiling me. It’s going to be difficult to get used to living without you.” She winced. “I mean not having someone wait on me hand and foot.”
Bowen returned her smile, but it was forced.
He’d known her for five days, hadn’t even flirted with her, and yet he also had a hard time imagining going back to his routine and not seeing her again.
Would he have pursued her if she weren’t injured?
Something about her called to him, but he wasn’t the kind of man who could feel lust for a woman who was hurting. His primary instincts were to protect and heal. If he hadn’t been born a natural fighter, he probably would have turned to medicine. But he was more useful as a Guardian, especially now that the force rescued trafficking victims. That was why he’d been one of the first ones to answer Bridget’s call and come back from retirement.
“What are you thinking about?” Margaret asked. “You are frowning as if something is bothering you.”
“I was just thinking about my job.” He filled a mug with hot water from the kettle and added a teabag.
“I still don’t know what you do for a living.” She took the mug he handed her. “Ana said that your organization rescues trafficking victims. Are you an undercover detective? How do you go about doing that?”
“I’m part of a team that actually does the rescuing.” He went back to the kitchen. “We go in, apprehend the maggots running it, and take the victims out.” He filled another mug with hot water and added a teabag.
“What do you do with the maggots?”
“Cuff them and leave them for the police to handle.” After thralling them to confess their crimes, but it wasn’t as if he could tell her that part.
“I can just imagine how scared the victims are. What do you do with them?”
“We deliver them to a rehabilitation center.” He sat next to her on the couch. “It takes a long time before they are ready to re-enter society.”
“I bet.” She blew on her hot tea and took a small sip. “I don’t think it’s possible to ever fully recover from an ordeal like that or trust a man enough to have a relationship.”
Was she talking about the victims or about herself?
Her comments on Greggory being potentially dangerous hadn’t gone unnoticed, not by Eleanor and not by him. He also remembered the haunted look in her eyes when she’d defended Emmett. I know what evil looks like, and Emmett is not it.
Margaret had run away from an abusive relationship, and Emmett had offered her a sanctuary. She’d repaid him with everything she had, including her body and mind.
The question was whether she’d done it voluntarily or had been victimized again by Emmett’s compulsion.
The best way to find out was to ask Eleanor to override it, but she might not be strong enough for that. He would probably need Kalugal’s help, and he wasn’t sure the guy would agree to help a human who wasn’t important to him or to the clan.
Bowen could probably offer the guy something in return for the favor. Perhaps a service of some kind.
The problem was that once the compulsion to worship Emmett was removed, Margaret might fall apart. For now, it was better that she believed she’d had sex with him of her own free will. Even when she got better, Bowen wouldn’t do anything before consulting with Vanessa. In fact, it was a good idea to have her talk with Margaret, but the therapist had her hands full with the sanctuary. She wouldn’t be able to drop everything and drive all the way to the cabin.
“You are frowning again.” She reached with her finger and touched his forehead. “Did I upset you?”
He had the absurd impulse to grab that finger and kiss it. “I was thinking about what you said. After the therapists deem them ready, the victims move into a halfway house, and the organization finds them part-time jobs. I’m not involved in that, but I heard that many of the girls start dating.”
She looked surprised. “The therapists must be doing an amazing job with them.”
“Evidently.” As an idea popped into his head, Bowen put his tea mug down. “If Safe Haven falls apart, I could probably arrange a job for you in the sanctuary or the halfway house. Would you be interested?”
That way, she could get help, and he could still see her from time to time.
“Both sound like worthwhile endeavors. I could probably adapt some of the workshops I created for Safe Haven to suit their needs.”
His heart feeling lighter, Bowen took Margaret’s hand. “Perhaps you would like doing that even if Safe Haven doesn’t fall apart? You’ll be helping people, but you’ll be free to live your life and not be bound by the cult’s rules.”
She smiled sadly. “The community is all I know, and I will miss my friends. If Safe Haven survives without Emmett, I’d rather return home.”
And just like that, the heaviness returned, settling over his heart. “What if Anastasia chose to work alongside you?”
It was a long shot, but it was possible. Anastasia couldn’t go back to Safe Haven, but if she wanted to continue helping people, the sanctuary or the halfway house would be a good place to do that.
Margaret’s eyes widened. “I’m such a lousy friend. I forgot to ask you to check on her. Can you call Leon and get an update? It really worries me that she didn’t call me yet.”
“I spoke with Leon a couple of hours ago, and he said that she was sleeping.” Slipping in and out of consciousness, but he didn’t want to worry Margaret, or be forced to come up with more lies about what was wrong with her friend,
“Can you call him again?”
He checked the time. “I’ll text him. If Anastasia is sleeping, I don’t want the phone call to wake her up. Besides, the nurse is on her way, and we can ask her how Ana is doing.”
64
Stella
“Are you nervous?” Richard smoothed his hand over Stella’s arm.
“A little.” She chuckled. “I was much more nervous about talking with Kian.”
“That didn’t go as badly as you expected.”
“Kian was very understanding, which surprised me. Usually, he’s so gruff and impatient.” She glanced at the door. “What’s taking them so long?”
They were in Kian’s office in the keep’s underground, waiting for her meeting with Emmett.
“Kian probably wanted to ask him a few questions first.” Richard walked over to the bar fridge. “Do you think he would mind if we helped ourselves?”
She shrugged. “If he has any alcohol in there, I could use some.”
Richard opened the fridge and pulled out two li
ttle bottles, the kind they served on flights. “If you want something with a bite, it’s either whiskey or vodka.” He leaned down and pulled out a bottle of Snake Venom. “Or this.”
“I’ll take the whiskey.”
She didn’t like the stuff, but it was better than Snake Venom which, in her opinion, tasted like motor oil.
Richard twisted the caps off the small bottles and handed her one. “Cheers.”
Stella poured it down her throat, wincing at the burn.
Surprisingly, she didn’t feel panicky after talking with Kian. Perhaps it was his promise to beseech the Fates' protection that had eased her fears, or maybe it was the conviction that she’d done the right thing. It was definitely a relief to finally end her nearly twenty-two-year-long silence. She hadn’t even realized how much it had weighed on her.
“I still need to tell Vlad.” She put the empty bottle on the table. “I hope he’s not going to be too angry at me for keeping his father’s identity a secret from him.”
Richard put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s a good kid. He will understand.”
She looked up at him and put her hand over his. “I’m glad that I don’t have to do this alone. Having you by my side gives me courage.”
He leaned and kissed the top of her head. “That’s what mates are for.” He smirked. “Among other things.”
“I love you, and I especially love the other things.”
Richard’s fangs and venom glands weren’t fully functional yet, so he couldn’t give her a venom bite, but she could wait for that. Having him as her mate was already more than she’d ever hoped for. He challenged her and supported her at the same time, giving as much if not more than he was receiving, and he was easy to be with.
The Fates had been kind to her. Hopefully, they would reward her for coming forward with what little she knew about Vrog’s people and not punish her for breaking the vow.
“Me too.” Richard waggled his brows. “Do you think Kian would mind if we had a quickie in his private bathroom?”
Stella laughed. “I’m sure he would.” She pushed to her feet. “But I need to use it for something else.”
After taking care of her nervous bladder, she washed her hands and examined her reflection in the mirror. The black eyeliner was smudged a little, making her eyes look wild, and her lipstick had faded and needed a new coat. Once that was fixed, she pulled a brush out of her purse and pulled it through her messy hair.
Compared to her usual colorful style, she’d dressed conservatively for the meeting. Her peasant blouse was black, with just a little embroidery around the neckline, and her long skirt was dark blue. It wasn’t a power suit, but it was the best she could do.
When she returned to the office, Andrew was there.
“They are ready for you.” He handed her two earpieces. “Put them in.” He gave Richard a similar pair. “They will feel a little tight for a minute or so, but then they will mold to your ear and become comfortable. It’s important that they block all outside noise.”
He spent another couple of minutes explaining how they worked, and once he was sure they'd gotten the hang of it, he motioned for them to follow. “The one downside of these is that everyone sounds the same.” He looked at Richard. “Stella will sound like a guy.”
“Oh, yeah?” Richard took her hand as they left Kian’s office. “Say something.”
“My ears feel like they are stuffed with rubber.”
Richard laughed. “I always knew you had a masculine side.”
As they exited the elevator on the dungeon level, the artificial calm she’d managed so far shattered, and the hand Richard was holding became clammy.
“Take a deep breath.” He squeezed her hand. “You have nothing to fear from him.”
Andrew cast her a reassuring smile. “You are not going in alone. Kian, the brothers, and Arwel are there, and you also have Richard and me. Not only that, they have Emmett in chains.”
“I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of what he’s going to say.”
Richard squeezed her hand again. “Whatever it is, Kian is going to handle it. Your job is just to ask the right questions.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just that I feel like the past has caught up to me and forced me to deal with something I preferred to leave buried and forgotten.”
“I thought that you were glad to have it off your chest.”
“Maybe once this is over, I will be.”
What if Emmett was Vrog?
He could have left Safe Haven numerous times during the last twenty-seven years. It wasn’t as if he’d been a prisoner of the place he was in charge of. He could have traveled to the East, maybe to visit his community, and stopped over in Singapore.
Would he want to meet Vlad?
Would Vlad want to meet the male whose genetic material he carried?
Andrew stopped in front of one of the doors, pulled out his phone, and placed a call. “Open the door. We are here.”
Taking a deep breath, Stella watched the heavy door slowly swing open and prayed to the Fates that the man inside wasn’t Vrog.
65
Kian
“This is Stella and her mate Richard,” Kian introduced the newcomers. “You already know Andrew.”
“Hello, lie detector.” Emmett nodded at Andrew. “And who is the lovely couple? Emotion sensors? Mind readers?”
Arwel pulled out a chair for Stella, who looked relieved. Had she feared that Emmett was Vlad’s father after all?
“We are neither of those things.” She sat down. “Do you know Vrog?”
That was clever. She’d caught Emmett unprepared.
He tilted his head. “Should I know him? Or is it her? Or it? Or maybe they? These days it’s difficult to know how to address someone. I was thinking about calling everyone friend because comrade is so Russian, but it doesn’t work as well.”
Kian wondered if Emmett was rambling to conceal his response to Vrog’s name, but Andrew didn’t shake his head, and neither did Arwel.
“That’s a shame.” Stella rearranged her long skirt. “I wondered how he has been.”
“Was he a guest of the retreat?” Emmett asked.
“Maybe he didn’t use his real name.” Richard looked at Stella.
“That’s possible.” She opened her satchel and pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?” Kian asked.
“Showing Emmett something that might jog his memory.”
The woman was acting strange, and he didn’t know what to make of it. When she’d stood in the doorway, she’d seemed a nervous wreck, but then as her eyes landed on Emmett, she’d visibly relaxed. Now she sounded detached, and maybe a little curious. Was she channeling a TV detective?
“Maybe you should do that.” She handed the phone to Richard.
The guy looked unsure as he pushed to his feet and offered the device to Kian. “Do you think it’s wise?”
It was a picture of Vlad. Did he look a lot like his father?
Stella hadn’t mentioned it when they’d talked in his office, but he probably did, if she hoped that Emmett would recognize him. Kian prayed that he would. If he didn’t, then it meant that his was not the only Kra-ell community, and that would be fucking bad.
He pushed to his feet and turned the device toward Emmett. “Does he look familiar?”
Emmett’s forehead furrowed. “No, but he looks like a hybrid.” He lifted his eyes to Stella. “Where did you meet him?”
“Singapore.”
“Maybe he was fathered by one of ours.”
Vlad had always looked a little strange, but not enough to arouse suspicion that he wasn’t human or immortal.
“What makes you think that he’s a hybrid? He looks human to me.”
Emmett smiled. “I look human too, but I’m not. I just assumed that he must be a hybrid since you asked me if I knew him. This boy could be a mix of any ethnicities.”
“Does he resemble anyone in your community?” Arwel asked.
“He could be anyone’s son. We all have black hair and dark eyes.”
Vlad’s eyes weren’t black. One was blue, and the other green, which was odd since Stella’s eyes were brown. Where had he gotten them from?
“What about the pure-bloods?” Stella asked. “Do they have forked tongues and black on black eyes?”
Emmett laughed. “Not really.” He pushed his own tongue out and wiggled it. “But they are pointy, and the pure-bloods have a darker triangle right here.” He pointed at the tip of his pointy tongue. “So from a distance, it can look as if their tongues are forked. They are quite proud of that damn triangle. The darker it is, the more royal blood they claim to have.”
Damn. Syssi’s vision was right even about that.
“What about the eyes?” Stella asked.
He shifted in the chair, making the chains rattle. “They can change colors. When they are calm, the irises are black, when they get excited or when they feed, they turn dark red. At night, they can turn blue, green, or purple, depending on how dark it is. And when it’s very bright, they get a golden hue.”
That explained Vlad’s strange eyes. Instead of changing colors according to light exposure or emotion, they each got stuck in a certain mode.
They still hadn’t gotten a definitive answer for whether Vrog was a member of Emmett’s community or not. If he had used a fake name, which was very likely, he could have been one of the other hybrids in Emmett’s group. But then Emmett should have recognized him.
“Humans would have noticed the changing eyes,” Anandur said. “What do they do to hide them? Wear sunglasses?”
“Sometimes. Other times they just compel humans to see what they want them to see.”
“Do you mean that they use a shroud?” Kian asked.
“I guess you can call it that. In our language, there is just one word for mind manipulation, and the closest translation is compulsion.”
