Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You let her take my shirt?” Benic glared at Ahote, who lay on the bed once again after another unproductive morning of searching. It didn’t help that he was hungover and the shifter was nauseous from the city smells. Benic had grown used to it already, but Ahote seemed more sensitive.
“She had to wear something.” Ahote rolled over, turning his back to him.
“Where were her clothes?” The shirt he presently wore stunk of spilled wine and sweat. He had wanted to wash and change into something fresh only to find his luggage had been ransacked by the female Ahote had fucked in their room last night while he was at Weis’s party.
“I tore the front of her dress off in my enthusiasm.” His chuckle held a deep sensual note. “I couldn’t let her go home with her fine tits hanging out.”
“You could have given her my dirty one.” He pulled out his remaining clothes and sniffed each item. “Or given her one of yours.”
Ahote rolled to face him. “What luggage do you see me carrying, vampire? The only clothes I have are on my back.”
“You could have asked me for some spare—”
Their door rattled with a series of fast knocks.
Ahote was on his feet and settled behind the door before Benic had reached the doorknob. The shifter gave him the nod that he was ready to attack if needed.
“Who is it?” Benic asked through the thick wood.
“Pemma, my lord. From Lord Weis’s party.” She sounded out of breath.
He yanked the door open and searched the hallway. She was alone. Her pack would let her travel the city unaccompanied when slavers wandered the streets? His assessment of their survival in the West plummeted.
Her hair, so perfectly combed last night, was a tangled mess around her shoulders and down her back. Dust smudged her chin and nose. She gave him a polite smile as if she were at tea instead of standing in the threshold of his inn room. “I’d like to extend—” She cleared her hoarse throat.
He took her hand and guided her inside. Sitting in the only chair, she stared at Ahote—who leaned against the wall a few feet away—with round wide eyes.
He placed a glass of water in her hand and helped her take a sip. She gulped it down.
Benic knelt next to the chair so he could meet her gaze directly. “What are you doing in this part of town alone? Don’t you know how dangerous it is?”
“I bet her alpha doesn’t know she’s out.” Ahote frowned.
“I—I don’t know if he knows. Ewald sent me.” She broke eye contact and looked down at her lap. “He’s so mad at me and he’ll be even angrier after this.” She then took a deep shuddering breath and straightened her spine. “Do you know a shifter female named Kele?”
Gripping the chair, Benic struggled for calm.
Apparently, Ahote didn’t know how to do this. He leaped forward and snatched the tiny omega from the chair, making her squeak. “Where is she?”
Benic pried the hunter’s fingers off Pemma. “You’re scaring her.”
She automatically pressed her face against Benic’s chest and curled her delicate arms around him. She shook like a leaf in a storm.
He stroked her hair. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you. Ahote’s never had manners.” Benic glared at the lumbering hunter. If he’d kept his paws off her, they’d already know where Kele was being kept. “Pemma just arrived from Europa. She’s heard all the terrible stories about wild shifter packs around here. Try not to make them a reality.”
Ahote rubbed his forehead and appeared somewhat chagrined. “I’m sorry.” The words came out stilted, as if not used very often.
She glanced over her shoulder at the hunter. “Are you from Kele’s pack?”
He nodded.
“She has similar manners.”
Her comment caught Benic off guard and he barked out a laugh. She startled in his arms and he hugged her close so she wouldn’t take off. “We came to New Berg searching for her. Slavers attacked the packs on my land. I’ve come for them.”
She gazed up at him. “You protect them?”
“Wouldn’t Ewald do the same if slavers stole some of your pack?” He tucked some of her wayward hair behind her ear. “Where is she, Pemma?”
“At Lord Weis’s. She recognized the pendant you gave me.”
“Are the others with her?” Ahote asked.
“No, I was only able to free her, but I did give Peder a means to pick locks.” She swallowed. “He was supposed to come for her but I haven’t seen any sign of him. I’m not even sure how he’d find Lord Weis’s manor. I did manage to convince Ewald to invite you to lunch though. We might be able to arrange a meeting between you and Kele. But we should hurry. I don’t like the way Ewald looks at her and he refused to let me take her along to find you.”
Benic frowned and handed Pemma to Ahote so he could change his shirt.
The hunter seemed pleased to hold Pemma. He stroked his cheek along hers in a shifter manner. Benic never understood how some hunters took such solace in omega arms, but they did. Who was he to judge when he did the same with Inacio?
“Can you tell me where to find Peder?” Benic heard Ahote whisper. Damn it, he’d hoped in his need to find Kele, the hunter would forget the Apisi whelp.
“Yes, the last I saw him he was in a slaver’s compound by the docks, but I don’t know my way. The owner is named Timothy. He’s a Jaguar shifter.”
“Shifters selling shifters?” Ahote shook his head.
“There are worse atrocities in this world than that, Ahote. Cat shifters don’t seem to get along with the wolves.” Benic buttoned his shirt and pulled on his cleanest jacket. “Where is your carriage, Pemma?”
“I came on foot.”
“Of course you did. Why would Ewald, who claims to care about his pack, let you travel in safety?”
“Don’t be too harsh on Ewald. I did some things to make him quite upset with me. I’ll be lucky to keep my place in the pack once all is said and done.” She retreated from Ahote’s arms and pinned her hair back in place.
Benic offered her his arm. “We’ll rent a carriage for the return trip.”
She set her hand on his arm. “What of Ahote? They won’t let him in the house wearing a kilt.”
The hunter glanced down at his clothes. “Why not? It’s not too short, is it?”
“Domesticated shifters wear vampire clothes,” she corrected him. “Maybe you can fit in one of Lord Benic’s outfits?”
Benic exchanged a look with Ahote and could tell the hunter would rather eat his own cock than wear his clothes. Not to mention, he loomed a good three hands taller than the vampire. “Maybe you should find the slave compound where Peder is being held.”
He nodded, relief plain on his face.
Benic escorted Pemma outside where he flagged a carriage for hire and directed it to Lord Weis’s manor.
“Do you think these shifters are happy, Lord Benic?” She had remained quiet on the trip, staring at the people on the street, until now.
“Define happiness.” He watched her instead. She was beautiful in a classical way with a small pert nose and big innocent eyes. He couldn’t blame Ewald for his interest, but Benic preferred his females with more backbone. Ones who could bite back.
She shrugged. “I can’t define it, but their faces seem bland. When I look at Kele and Ahote, they vibrate with life. These city shifters don’t.” She twisted to face him. “Do I appear bland?”
He rested his chin in his hand and smiled. “Far from it.”
A small frown pulled at the edges of her full lips. “That’s good. I fear if I stay here any longer I may fade away into the crowd. I think for a moment today I did.” She shook her head as if clearing a bad memory. “Going west really is the best thing for us to do.”
Benic grimaced. He didn’t agree. He’d rather see Pemma fade than die.
They pulled up to the manor where a footman showed them to a lovely sunroom. Green plants lined the walls and a large
round table sat in the center of the sunlight.
He pulled out a chair for Pemma.
“I should freshen up.”
“Don’t you dare.” Benic guided her into the chair and poured her a glass of the white wine chilling on the table. “You’ve had a harrowing journey.” And Ewald should see how disheveled she appeared. If he didn’t feel any remorse, he’d take Pemma off his hands and find her a proper hunter to care for her.
After he took the seat next to her, Ewald arrived.
Benic rose to his feet again and shook hands, unable to stop staring at Ewald’s swollen and bruised bottom lip.
Pemma dabbed her napkin in her ice water and pressed it against Ewald’s mouth. “What happened?”
“Our new shifter punched me.” He ran his hands over her hair and face. “Did someone attack you?” He pulled the napkin from her hand and washed her face with it. “I’m so sorry, Pemma. I never should have sent you on that errand. I was just so cross with you.”
Pemma stood rock still. “Why did Kele hit you?”
“Because I was being an ass.” Ewald sat down and pulled her on his lap. “All is well though.”
“Is it?” Her gaze searched the room. “Where is she?”
Benic clenched the edge of the table so he wouldn’t stab his host with the butter knife. If Ewald laid a hand on Kele, Benic would skin him alive and make him wish the wild shifters of the West had gotten to him first.
The rattle of the serving trollies caught his attention then he noticed the pale female pushing it.
Benic jumped to his feet and almost swung her in his arms, but Pemma suddenly stood in his way. “Let me introduce the new member of our household.” She gave him a stern look and made him recall that Ewald didn’t know of their connection. “Kele, this is Lord Benic.”
Kele gave him a curt nod but the desperate hope in her eyes almost had Benic tossing her over his shoulder and racing out of the manor. The independent female he’d grown to love kept her head bowed as she served Pemma her meal, then offered Benic her wrist.
“This is generous of you to share.” He inhaled her scent along the delicate skin over her pulse point and heard her racing heartbeat.
“Not a bother, my friend,” Ewald responded.
Kele couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling and Benic restrained a smile. He hadn’t meant his comment for the young lord. With a sharp bite, he pierced Kele’s flesh. She’d fed him before so her flavor was comforting. He only took a few swallows. She’d need her strength to flee the city once he figured out an escape.
He pressed a thumb over her wound until the bleeding stopped. “There we go.” Raising an eyebrow at Ewald, he gestured to Kele. “Are you eating?”
The young lord shook his head and pointed to his swollen mouth. “I’ll have to figure out how later but I’d hoped we could continue our conversation from last night.”
Benic noticed he was missing a fang and stifled a laugh. That would take a few days to grow back. It heartened him to see that Kele still had fight in her. “What would you like to know specifically?”
“What are our chances of meeting a pack on our travels?”
Pemma set a cushion by Ewald’s feet and leaned against him while eating her meal of delicately cut meats. She closed her eyes when he stroked her hair. An insightful female placing her faith in a foolish male.
“You’ll most definitely meet packs, as in many, since you’ll be crossing their territories. Most, as in all, hate nonpack on their lands so they’ll likely be hostile.” Benic sipped his wine.
“Would you agree with that assessment, Kele?” Ewald asked.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze directly. “Yes, and the farther west you go, the less civil they’ll be.” She glanced at him. “I don’t think the vampires made it far enough west for them to even be familiar with your species.”
Ewald rubbed his chin. “What do you suggest we do when we encounter them?”
“Run.” Benic leaned across the table. “Each pack has their customs. I can give you some details, but will you remember them or could you even identify which pack you are dealing with upon sight? What you need is a guide. Someone you can trust to get you to your land. Once you reach it, I’d spend time getting to know the local packs. Chances are your land already belongs to them. A vampire deed will mean nothing to them.”
Pemma set her plate aside. “Maybe we should get your deed with a map and show Lord Benic the route you plan on taking then he can better advise you.”
“Excellent idea.” Ewald kissed her on the top of the head. “I will get those right away.” He leaped to his feet.
As soon as he was out of the room, Pemma raced to the door and scanned the area. “All is clear.”
Benic offered his hand to Kele. “Let’s go.”
“Not now.” Pemma spun around. “He’ll know it’s you and I don’t think Lord Weis will be happy with such behavior. I can’t afford to have Ewald any angrier at me.”
He clicked his open mouth shut. She was right. Stealing a slave from another lord, no matter how she was obtained, would be considered a crime. Visiting the guillotines was not part of his future.
Kele set her hands on her hips and addressed Pemma. “He seems to have forgiven you.”
“He does seem nicer.” Pemma wrung her hands. “I’ll get you out of the house tonight and to the gates, but from there Lord Benic has to take over. This way no one will suspect us.”
Benic leaned his chin on his palm and smiled at Pemma.
“What?” She took a step closer.
“Nothing, it’s just nice to see a shifter thinking with her brain instead of her heart.”
She smirked. “What do you expect? I was raised by vampires.”
Kele came around the table, moving with a hunter’s grace and confidence. Gone was the meek female from a few moments ago. “What about the others in the slave compound? I won’t leave members of my tribe there and I want those slavers’ heads for killing my parents.”
He pulled her shaking body into a hug and held her tight. “I purchased the others two days ago and sent them home. At present, Ahote is checking on Peder and Nahuel’s whereabouts.”
She shuddered and took a deep breath. “Ahote is with you?”
He nodded.
“Then who’s taking care of the Payami?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
They spent the rest of the day and night without anyone checking on either him or Nahuel. No food, no water, and exposed to the elements. The sun beat on their heads again and Peder attempted to lick his dry lips, but his tongue had gone to leather.
Nahuel slept on his side, his back to him. He’d stopped talking once the sun had set yesterday and hadn’t woken since.
Peder reached through the bars and rested his hand on Nahuel’s side again.
His chest rose and fell.
Peder breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey!” he shouted to anyone above. Sometimes, the guards’ voices drifted down but from such a distance, he couldn’t make out their words. “We need water!” His throat hurt and his voice came out hoarse, almost unrecognizable.
Dry dirt trickled from above and landed in his eyes. He rubbed his vision clear and peered at Timothy’s harsh face.
“Need? Do you have the audacity to make demands of me, runaway?” His scowl ran deep. “Because of both of you, I’ve had to sell all my stock of slaves at a discount to pay off my betting debts. Pull the fuckers up.” Timothy vanished from his sight.
Peder’s heartbeat echoed in his chest. He couldn’t care less what Timothy had to pay or how he wanted to take it out on his hide. The end was close and he wouldn’t have to worry about pain or thirst anymore.
His gaze moved to the unmoving shifter. What about Nahuel though?
The lid to their cage squealed open and clanked to the ground. With long poles, the vampire guards poked at him until he stood then grabbed him by the shoulders to drag him out. He lay on his side, watching as they poked at Nahuel. “He hasn�
�t moved all morning.”
“We’ll get him to move. Get the spear.”
“No.” Peder crawled between their legs to the lip of the hole, dodging their fists and he tumbled headfirst next to Nahuel. He propped his arm under Nahuel’s shoulders. “Come on, hunter. Time to wake before the vampires poke you full of holes.” He lifted him to his feet, praying Nahuel’s knees wouldn’t give out.
Nahuel’s head rolled back and his eyes fluttered open. “Wha…?”
Peder held up one of the hunter’s arms. “If you give him some water, he’ll come around.” He’d seen this before when his old alpha would forget to release one of his packmates from the chains. Sometimes just a little water was enough to revive them.
The vampires lifted Nahuel out and tossed him to the ground. They repeated the process with Peder.
He lay next to the hunter. “It’ll be all right. Stay strong.”
Timothy strode behind Nahuel, his gaze piercing Peder’s, as he swung his leg and kicked the semi-awake hunter in the back.
Nahuel cried out, his eyes flashing wide open as if lost in a nightmare. He clutched at Peder with weak fingers.
Jerking to his feet, Peder crouched over his friend and snarled at the cat shifter. “Leave him alone.” His trigger thought came instinctively and he shifted to feral. Though he was faster and stronger in this form, his legs still trembled from being cramped in the small cage for so long without water.
Timothy stood his ground. “Collar him.”
The guards tackled him off Nahuel and dragged him to the ground in a mass of swinging limbs until he heard the metallic click of the collar locking. Then all rolled off him.
Peder raced toward Timothy without another thought of his collar. With a neck-snapping yank, he was jerked off his feet. He shook his head and searched for what had hit him. A thick chain linked him to a pole. Leashed like a mad dog.
Timothy stood just out of range of his claws and grinned. “You, I need to keep pretty. I’ll make you some lord’s lapdog, just you see.” He pointed at the guards behind him. “Tie the other one to the whipping pole.”
“No.” Peder strained to touch Nahuel but they pulled him out of his reach. This was his punishment, not the weakened hunter’s.
Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) Page 20
