Haven City Series Books 7-9: Alpha's Gamble (Haven City Series #7), Alpha Enchanted (Haven City Series #8), Alpha's Cage (Haven City Series #9)

by Zoe Perdita

  Once there, Tyler told him what had happened. Mostly.

  “Hunters, Tyler?” Cage said. “That’s serious. It poses a threat not only to you, but to all shifters in Haven. Is there something you need to tell me? Some reason they targeted you?”

  Cage’s wire-framed glasses were perched on his crooked nose and the brown eyes behind them narrowed into slits. Even though he wore his standard professor outfit, slacks with a vest and plaid button up all in various shades of brown, he still looked more formidable than he had a right to.

  Plus, he used his calm voice that meant he was actually more pissed than if he were screaming. It’s like when a girl said she was ‘fine,’ and it actually meant the exact fucking opposite.

  Tyler scowled and balled his hands into fists. He knew where this line of questioning was going—where it always went. “Yeah, I do have something to tell you. It’s been two goddamn years, and I’m fucking sick of you and Ken going over every inch of my life with a microscope. I’m clean. If I skip a few meetings, it doesn’t mean I was using. And I’m sure as hell not fucking with hunters. All the opium dens are gone, so there’s no easy way to get a hit. Wanna check my arms?” Tyler snarled and rolled up his sleeves.

  His tats covered the former track marks, which would make them difficult to spot regardless.

  Cage didn’t flinch, and his gaze didn’t falter. “That’s not what I meant, but you haven’t been attending the therapy group either.”

  Tyler rolled his eyes. “Like I said, stop spying on me.”

  The space was smaller than his own, with a tiny living area smashed next to an even smaller kitchen. Tyler had never seen the bedroom, but he assumed it was just as cramped.

  “No one is spying. I was concerned since you’ve been so erratic lately, so I asked the group leader, and she said you only showed up once. And that she spotted you and a blond man outside before each meeting. Who is he?” Cage asked.

  Tyler took a deep breath and snagged his fingers in his hair. He pulled until his scalp stung. He hadn’t told Cage about Quinn yet, not to be secretive, but because he wanted to keep those two parts of his life separate.

  Cage represented all ways Tyler had fucked up in the past, and Quinn was a shining new beginning. One where he didn’t have to be an addict under constant suspicion.

  Now they were about to collide.

  “Fuck! His name’s Quinn, and he’s in trouble. I’m trying to help him. Is that good enough?”

  Cage studied him for a long moment and sat down on his brown leather couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Tell me about it and maybe I can help.”

  “The cops can’t even help,” Tyler muttered and leaned against the wall next to the door. If he explained, Cage might actually know something about Quinn’s kind.

  “That doesn’t mean much. I’ve helped the police – they’re not omnipresent. What kind of help does this young man need? Is he the reason the hunters attacked?”

  Tyler spilled an abbreviated version of the story and mentioned the private research he put into breaking the spell.

  Cage nodded at all the right parts and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t blame you for what you did. A fellow shifter in trouble—I’m glad you helped. But you’ve been doing this for a month without asking the one person with extensive knowledge of magic, past and present?”

  Tyler shrugged and looked at his feet.

  When Cage put it that way, it sounded stupid. But that’s not why Tyler did it. He asked for help from Rory, Jin, and the police, and he didn’t get much. Bothering Cage at that point seemed pointless.

  “You’re already busy, and most people think Quinn’s crazy.”

  “But you don’t?” Cage asked and stood up. He grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall.

  “No. At first, I wasn’t sure, but now I believe him,” Tyler said and clenched his jaw. He more than believed Quinn now—the alpha that paced inside proved that. So did the ever-present ache in his chest.

  Cage nodded and swung the door opened. “Then I trust your judgment. Come on.”

  Tyler flicked his tongue over his lip ring and stared at Cage stalk down the hall before he followed. Trust? Him? No one had trusted him in years.

  His heart lightened.

  Cage drove them to Haven University. It was after ten p.m. and the campus was nearly deserted, but Tyler still popped his collar and scrunched his shoulders.

  If his life turned out differently, he may have gone to school here though he couldn’t really picture it. Cage stalked into the library and down a few sets of stairs into the underground stacks. When they got to a locked door at the end of a hallway, Cage produced a key, opened it and waltzed inside.

  Tyler felt dizzy after moving so quickly through the rows and rows of books piled nearly to the ceiling. It smelled like a library, like paper and leather and knowledge. But this room was different than the one above their heads.

  The walls were a cream white and the lights were so dim Tyler’s wolf sight kicked in to compensate. An A/C unit blew cold air steadily over their heads, though it was still cool enough outside that it seemed unnecessary.

  Cage shut and locked the door behind them and moved down the stacks. As he did so, he pulled out a pile of books, several of which he put in Tyler’s arms until Tyler’s muscles ached in protest.

  “What’re we doing here?” Tyler finally asked and set the books down carefully. They all looked about a hundred years older than he was, and if something happened to them Cage might try to rip his face off. “I thought you were a history professor or something.”

  “Research,” Cage said and put his own pile of books on the table. “And I am, but it’s more than that. I’m the foremost scholar in magic on the West Coast. You still don’t know what kind of shifter he is?”

  “All I know is he can’t lie, and he’s a vegetarian, but he’s not a rabbit. He also claims he’s magic,” Tyler grumbled and slumped at the table. This isn’t how he wanted to spend the night, looking through musty books, but it might be the only way to save Quinn.

  “Just because a light mage keeps him doesn’t mean the spell is a light mages,” Cage said and pushed a pile of books toward Tyler. “They can’t cast binding spells, but a sorcerer can.”

  “What about a sorceress? Quinn said an old woman used to hang around the Montgomery house when he was a kid, and she knew about the spell. I think she’s dead.”

  Cage’s eyes lit up. “Yes. That makes sense. The Mallory family are sorcerers, but there was another one—Vanderbilt—that died out about ten years ago. When she finally passed, the old families locked up her home and left it. If we can’t find the answers here. . . .”

  “You want to break into a dead sorceress’s house?” Tyler asked and stared at Cage.

  Cage usually never said a damn thing about illegal activities, but now he buzzed with energy. “I don’t know the first thing about breaking and entering. I’m just trying to help you.”

  Tyler stared at the books and slowly opened the first one.

  What was he even looking for?

  They didn’t have an index and the table of contents didn’t make much sense. All it showed were chapter headings that said things like: “Onne Maǧī̆k ofe Lihte” and “Beists wuth Maǧī̆k Mighten.”

  He flipped to the first one, but paying attention to the small, hand-scrawled text, though neat, was difficult enough without the inconsistent spelling. After a page, he felt like he was back in high school trying to decipher Macbeth, only a hundred times worse.

  “This isn’t even in English,” Tyler said and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached.

  Cage glanced over and smiled slightly. “Middle English. Here. Try that one,” he said and lifted another book from the pile.

  This one was easier to read since it actually looked like the language Tyler was used to. Though it was still all old timey and confusing.

  “Did he say he doesn’t lie or he can’t lie?” Cage said af
ter what felt like a damn hour.

  Tyler rubbed his lightly bearded cheeks and leaned his head back. The off-white ceiling tiles swam before his eyes. “He said it was against his nature, whatever the fuck that means.”

  Cage flipped a page carefully. “Did he want to make a bargain with you?”

  Tyler sat up straight. “Yeah.”

  “Please, tell me you didn’t agree to it,” Cage said and met his eyes.

  Tyler scowled, and that pit in his stomach opened into a crack the size of the Grand Canyon. “Maybe. So what?”

  Cage’s relentless grip wrapped around his arm and squeezed. “And you did that before you even knew what he was or why a light mage might’ve captured him?”

  Tyler yanked himself free. “Yeah, because no one like him deserves to be held prisoner forever. It’s not like he’s some crazed killer. He’s—not bad. They’re hurting him. How would you like to be locked up like some fucking animal?”

  Cage shook his head and pushed up his glasses. His usually neat brown hair was mussed. “It’s possible the Montgomery family locked him up for the protection of others. His magic can be. . . dangerous.”

  Tyler rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a slow breath. His heart slammed so hard it felt like he’d been running for miles. Yelling at Cage got him nothing but more stupid lectures.

  “All magic can be dangerous,” he managed through gritted teeth.

  “That’s not entirely accurate. Healing magic isn’t dangerous,” Cage said and slid the open book across the table. He tapped a beautifully detailed illustration that took up the whole page. “The only type of shifter with magic is supposed to be extinct. I’ve heard rumors over the years that a few still exist, but not in Haven. They dwell deep in remote forests and usually only take human form to lure people to their home and bargain with them for—no one really knows. That’s how rare they are, and the accounts I’ve read don’t look kindly on them either.”

  Tyler expected some horrific beast with tentacles and fangs – a real life monster – but that’s not what it was.

  The horse-like creature sat curled next to a small pool of water, its mane flowing over a gently arched back and ears perked like an alert cat. It was pure white with eyes that looked like they’d been picked out in green and gold. In the middle of its forehead was a single spiral horn, pale violet, with a deathly sharp tip.

  “A unicorn? Are you kidding me?” Tyler snorted.

  “No,” Cage said. “And if you made a bargain with one, make sure when you fulfill your part of it you get to keep your life.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Tyler growled and looked at the wall of text next to the picture. It was written in the same confusing Middle English as the first book.

  Cage rolled his eyes and pressed a finger (fitted with a latex glove) to the page gently. “Unicorns are known for their trickery, and their inability to lie, though they will often make the truth sound like a lie to suit their aims. At the time this book was written, there were more of them and they were formidable shifters that even humans were aware of. Over the years, those beliefs changed and—”

  “The bargain. I’m not here for a history lesson,” Tyler grumbled and crossed his arms.

  Cage gave him one of those withering looks that made him feel stupid and went on. “If one is to find a unicorn, the creature will often lead you to its pond. There is a certain magic that makes them very beautiful, so those easily swayed by such things will no doubt follow.”

  Tyler glowered.

  Is that why he was instantly interested in Quinn at the club? Or did the necklace dampen that too? Shit. It’s not like he could ask Quinn, since Quinn couldn’t actually talk about it. But his desire to protect—to be with—Quinn was more than that and Tyler knew it.

  The alpha howled the truth, and Tyler wasn’t about to deny it. Still, Cage would think he was even stupider if he tried to explain.

  “So you think I’m following my dick. Go on.”

  At least that got the corner of Cage’s mouth to quirk. “The unicorn leads its victims to a pool of water that looks like a mirror. If you look into that mirror, you will see the truth. It’s driven countless people mad. Some commit suicide while others simply disappear or drop dead from pure shock.”

  “That’s what it says? And that book was written about what, a thousand years ago? You expect me to believe it?” Tyler said and shook his head. It sounded like the plot of a bad horror movie, and he knew how many terrible ones humans made about his kind. “Have you ever met a unicorn?”

  Cage pushed up his glasses and sighed. “No. And the book is eight hundred years old. Its accuracy may not be perfect, but making a bargain with a unicorn isn’t something to be taken lightly. What did he promise you?”

  A desert formed in Tyler’s mouth, and he took a deep breath. “What I wanted most or some shit.”

  “As I feared.” Cage sighed heavily. “If you want to free him, I understand. Light mages can be nasty pieces of work. Just remember that whatever you want most needs to be something you can live with in the end.”

  A chill raced up Tyler’s spine.

  Tyler shoved Cage’s words from his mind over the next day. No matter how hard he tried to worry about Quinn hurting him, he couldn’t. The last time they hung out, Quinn went to great lengths to save a butterfly from the center of the sidewalk. What kind of crazed unicorn did that?

  He’d worry about it later.

  Even after what he’d learned about Quinn, he was going to help him.

  He had to do it—not for his own sake, but for Quinn’s.

  It didn’t matter if Quinn was a goddamn unicorn (which, what the fuck!) or a crocodile, he was Tyler’s mate.

  His gut twisted into a knot when he thought of it like that, but he wasn’t running from the truth like some people (mostly Davis) had for years.

  Quinn was his mate, and he’d do what he had to do. Tyler didn’t understand how all this magic bullshit worked, but he needed to figure it out in order to save Quinn.

  The alpha paced under his skin and snarled at nearly everyone who came in the shop the next few days, which didn’t make work any easier.

  Cage already thought he was stupid for entering a bargain with Quinn, and Tyler couldn’t explain that it may be dumb, but he couldn’t back out of it. A mixture of his own stubbornness, his alpha instincts and that thing in his gut that told him Quinn was his mate spurred him on. Not to mention what would happen if he failed.

  That’s not the person he wanted to be—one who gave up when shit got difficult. Not anymore.

  And if Quinn didn’t want to be his mate once he’d been freed, Tyler would find a way to deal with that too. Probably with a shit ton of booze and a shiny new addiction for everyone to harp on him about.

  No matter how much he didn’t want to admit it, Cage was right about one thing. The only way Tyler had a chance to figure out the spell was to break into that sorceress’s house and find it.

  Lucky him.

  The question was, should he do it with Quinn or alone? It was Quinn’s freedom that was at stake, so it only seemed fair to include him.

  Tyler hoped the damn raccoon shifter gave them a lift to the house.

  In order to plead his case, Tyler shut his shop early that Thursday and took the bus as close to Lake Orlando as he could get. Then he hitched a ride the rest of the way.

  He’d never gotten that close to the Montgomery mansion. The other times he came, Tyler kept his distance. Now, he walked right up to the fence and peered inside.

  Like most of the places in Lake Orlando, it sat on a huge chunk of land surrounded by gardens and trees. The back of the house looked like it pressed right into the lake, while the front had huge iron gates and a driveway at least a block long. He felt the push of the barrier against his skin and smelled the strong hint of magic that clogged the air.

  Through the bars, Tyler studied the house. He thought the Victorian mansions on the north side of Haven were big, but this
was massive.

  It was three stories and built of brick with a black sharply sloped roof that jutted here and there. The white shutters on the windows did little to brighten the place, and Tyler felt the weight of it press on his shoulders. Unlike the lush, colorful gardens in the rest of the neighborhood, this one wasn’t bright with flowers. It was choked with evergreen bushes with glossy dark leaves and huge shade trees that draped everything in shadow.

  It was early enough in the afternoon, and a car sat in the driveway. Hopefully, Quinn was still inside waiting for their meeting. Tyler wasn’t about to approach the door with the chance that Bradley could be home—if he could even get past that damn magic barrier.

  Instead, he leaned against the brick gate post and lit a cigarette.

  He’d smoked three by the time the gate creaked open and a black car pulled out—the one that raccoon shifter, Merci, drove Quinn around in.

  Tyler stepped in front of it.

  Merci stared at him for a long moment before she lowered the window.

  Quinn stared even longer, his mouth dropped open and eyes wide.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed as Tyler approached.

  “We need a ride and three hours. How much do I have to pay you not to tell Bradley about this?” Tyler asked and gritted his teeth. He only had five hundred in cash on him—not that he could even spare that. Well, as long as he got rid of Bradley soon and Jin kept up his end of their deal, he’d manage. Otherwise, he’d have to ask Davis for a loan.

  “You’re trying to bribe me? Seriously? Where do you want to go?” she asked and frowned.

  “The old Vanderbilt place. We have business there,” he said.

  Merci’s frown deepened, and she pinched her eyes closed. “No wonder you want to bribe me. How much are you offering?”

  He tossed the money on her lap, and Quinn watched her count it.

  “Fine,” Merci muttered. “Hurry up and get in.”