Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Michele Bardsley

  Right.

  Tristan had protected her once. Could she drag him back to reality by convincing him to do it again, then use that point of reality to get him to join up with her to escape? She asked, “How long have we been in here?”

  “About two hours.”

  “What? I wouldn’t have slept through all this for two hours.”

  “They used a spell to put you to sleep.”

  Argh! She held her patience. Focus on the goal–getting out of here. “Have they contacted Kossman?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s not behind the kidnapping. I heard one of them mention a sorcerer, but no name.”

  Of course. Next he’ll say he heard me thinking about an evil sorcerer. She kept giving it the college try. “What are we going to do when they come back?”

  “Depends.”

  She ground her jaw. “On?”

  “If you’ll do as I say. I’m not back to my full power, but I’m pretty sure I can take down two trolls. I just don’t know who’s really in charge.”

  Don’t argue with someone mental. Damn him.

  Tristan lowered his arms and looked to the right, where stairs led up to another floor. “Be quiet. They’re coming.”

  She didn’t hear anything. Another minute later, she caught the sound of footsteps heading down from a floor above. Was she in a basement?

  A man in his early forties, with a shocking blue gaze and thick brown hair, came into view. He wore a nicely cut suit, similar to the one she’d seen him in yesterday.

  Seth Kako.

  Her nemesis. The man who was vying for the same position as Mac.

  He didn’t so much as pause as he passed Tristan, who glared daggers at Seth.

  Tristan yelled, “What do you want with her when you have me, Sethos?”

  Sethos? Did Tristan know him? She could forgive delusions, but not Tristan working with Seth.

  Tristan pushed his hands, and strained like a mime pretending to shove a building off the foundation. Then he stopped and crossed his arms. Why did he have to be so gorgeous and so out of touch with the world?

  Seth stopped in front of her and said, “You made a mistake signing on with Kossman, and now it’s going to cost you. He’ll be sad when he realizes you’ve disappeared after all he’s done for you.”

  “What happened to Brewster and his man?”

  Seth’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Their van was righted and my men used a bit of majik I gave them. Brewster and his driver returned to Kossman, reporting that it was a bogus call, no glowing green eyes, and you told them you would see him on Monday. They’ll also report that on the way back to the office they were in a hit-and-run wreck.” Seth’s smug voice had a sinister purr. “But don’t get your hopes up, because you aren’t going to be anywhere near Kossman come Monday.”

  Cold chills clawed their way up her spine.

  There would be no ransom money sent for her. She warned, “What do you think Kossman will do when you show up without me? You don’t think your prize specimen will talk and tell Kossman about me?”

  “Him?” Seth jerked his thumb back toward Tristan, who was now quietly observing the conversation between her and Seth.

  “Yes, him, unless you have someone else captive,” she replied.

  “I have no intention of taking Kossman any specimens. I only vied for the position because Kossman has the resources to flush out others like Tristan. But it appears I will now be the frontrunner for head of the department once you’re gone.”

  She’d been kidnapped by a lunatic who was going to kill her for what boiled down to nothing more than a freaking job.

  What was it about her that drew crazy men?

  “You two know each other?” Tristan asked, sounding disgusted.

  She leaned to her side to see past Seth and snapped, “Not as well as you two obviously know each other. You’re clearly from the same psych ward as your buddy.”

  “He’s not my damn buddy.”

  “Well it sounds pretty chummy to me. Or maybe you’re the two best con artists to ever go after Kossman’s money.”

  Seth raised his hands. “Children, children. Let’s not argue. I have a witch who will pay well for you, Elaine.” He turned to Tristan. “Much as I’d like to keep you, there’s a Medb bounty on your head that I can’t turn down.”

  Who or what is Mave?

  Tristan laughed. “I hear there’s a new witch council in Atlanta, and Rowan’s at the head of it. Sure you want to get brought up on charges for dealing in humans?”

  Mac knew enough from studying that there could be real witches, but the idea of trolls and sorcerers was ridiculous. Although, from the technical definitions she’d studied, a sorcerer, in ancient cultures, was basically considered to be a type of powerful witch. In spite of her circumstances, her curiosity kicked in.

  Was there actually a witch council as Tristan claimed, or was he trying to scare Seth?

  And what was the relationship between these two?

  Were they scam artists who just knew each other, but did not work together?

  Seth laughed at Tristan. “What the hell happened to your eyes? Do you even have any powers left, or did they strip them from you in Treoir? Heard you got stuck there after the Medb invasion.”

  Tristan shrugged. “Macha isn’t known as a merciful goddess.”

  Mac’s heart jumped in her throat. We’re back to glowing green eyes again? Except Seth made it sound real.

  Whatever was going on, Mac’s survival instincts were not happy with her chances of leaving here alive. Worse, she might be handed over to someone who either was a witch or pretending to be one—how could she know for sure with Seth?—who apparently considered Mac valuable. As what? A sacrifice?

  What would a witch do to me?

  ~*~*~

  Tristan had tested the invisible walls imprisoning him. Sethos had him locked in tight.

  And Sethos knew Mac.

  But did Mac realize that Sethos was a sorcerer?

  Had the bastard touched her?

  The beast inside Tristan stirred at that thought. He ran the past few hours through his mind. Nope, Mac had no idea she’d been dealing with a predator. Hell, she still didn’t believe Tristan and Sethos weren’t human.

  Sethos stepped close to Tristan’s cage. If there had been no wall between them, Tristan could have grabbed him by the neck and snapped his head off.

  When all else failed in Tristan’s world, removing the head from the body usually did the trick.

  Sethos glanced over at Mac then at Tristan. “How do you know Elaine?”

  “Why? Worried I’ll get word to Kossman?”

  “No, there won’t be anything left once I’ve enjoyed her and handed her off to the witch.”

  Tristan’s beast raged inside him. “Touch her, and I’ll take you apart one limb at a time. You know I can.”

  “Ah.” Sethos smiled as though he’d just gained important information. “You two have slept together, huh? I will definitely keep her as entertainment for a while. It won’t prevent the witch from paying top dollar.”

  Shit. Tristan wanted blood. That’s why you never get close to anyone. The Medb coven had used his foster sister as leverage against him before, but Petrina was an Alterant who could protect herself.

  Mac was human.

  Sethos laughed all the way up the stairs and didn’t even lock the door, so sure that he had Tristan contained.

  Tristan had rested only a few hours. He could teleport himself out, but what about Mac?

  Her head hung forward, as if she’d lost all hope.

  Voices shouted upstairs, but sounded far off, like maybe outside the building. Power rocked the structure, and it shuddered. Someone shouted, “Get the gryphon!”

  More bounty hunters. Would the suck ever quit hammering this day?

  Mac hadn’t moved. Her human ears weren’t picking up on the threat heading their way.

  Tristan and Mac had to leave
. Now.

  He couldn’t risk his contacts hampering his powers. Tristan reached up and pinched each one off.

  Closing his eyes, he teleported. When he opened his eyes, he stood next to Mac.

  She jerked her head up at him. “What took you so long to do something?” Her mouth gaped open. “Glowing eyes again? Really, Tristan?”

  Call him speechless. This was beyond fucked up.

  The door burst open at the top of the stairs, and the sound of power being thrown around boomed.

  “What’s going on?” Mac cried out.

  “They’re having an auction for my head.” He pointed his finger at her manacles, intending to unlock them with his kinetics. Nothing happened.

  What the hell? He bet Sethos had put a spell on the lock that prevented it from opening except with the key.

  She’d watched Tristan and her face fell at some realization. “You don’t have superpowers. We need a key.”

  Loud explosions were going off upstairs, like someone had set fire to a fireworks plant.

  While Mac’s gaze was locked on the stairs, Tristan put his right hand on her shoulder to teleport both of them out. If she didn’t know what was happening, she wouldn’t freak out. He felt the change coming over him, but only half of him. When he looked at the left half of his body, it was slowly turning translucent.

  Damn. He still couldn’t teleport. Had Sethos warded this whole downstairs room?

  Mac reached up and patted Tristan’s hand then turned worried eyes to him. “Hide in that closet and I’ll try to convince them you escaped through that high window.”

  Was she nuts? “First of all, we couldn’t push a Chihuahua through that gap, and if I did hide where Sethos couldn’t find me, he’d torture you.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I can’t get out. But you’re free. If you can fight your way out, do it and call Kossman. He’ll send in the equivalent of a SEAL team. I know he will. He’s that kind of guy.”

  He’s that kind of guy? Mac made Kossman sound like some kind of god.

  What am I? Chopped liver? Tristan realized something else in her words. Mac was willing to help him escape even if she couldn’t.

  She’d do that for me?

  Tristan didn’t need a damn human to save Mac. He snarled, “I’m not leaving you.”

  Fighting poured down the stairs.

  She argued, “Are you determined to get yourself killed?”

  Tristan leaned down and kissed her hard. When he broke the kiss, he asked, “Would it matter?”

  Her eyes warmed, then her heart climbed out and perched on her shoulder, just like it had five years ago.

  He could see the truth in her gaze when she admitted, “Yes, it would matter. I must be just as delusional as the rest of you because, God knows why, I still care about you.”

  “Hold that thought.”

  Chapter 6

  Tristan turned around and stood between Mac and whatever was coming down the stairs.

  Another explosion rocked the building, then Sethos yelled, “Get the prisoners out of here!”

  Boots pounded down the stairs.

  Sethos stopped short on the last step and stared at the middle of the room. Then his gaze cut over to where Tristan waited. “Nice trick, Alterant.”

  “I have others.” Tristan smiled the way he had just before killing a witchdoctor who had entered his domain in South America with plans for using Tristan’s blood. “Sounds like you just exhausted some of your powers, Sethos. You’d be wise to let us walk out of here. Do that and I won’t kill you.”

  Not this time.

  “You’re not going anywhere, and we both know I can’t allow her to live. So we’re at cross-purposes.”

  Tristan shoved his hands forward and hit the sorcerer with a kinetic blast, knocking him back all the way to the far wall.

  Sucka. Should have warded your body against my kinetics.

  Sethos stumbled and shook it off. He snarled, “I don’t have to deliver you undamaged.” He rolled his hands around each other while he chanted, and a ball of fire bloomed in front of him. He threw the blazing ball at Tristan, who blocked it with kinetics.

  If Sethos kept this up, he’d slowly drain Tristan’s new burst of energy, but Tristan doubted he could kill the sorcerer with kinetics. Plus, he wasn’t sure the majik he’d gained from that witch’s cocktail last summer would be stronger than a powered-up sorcerer. A lot of things had happened since Tristan had last seen Mac, who’d thought he only had glowing eyes.

  And as of tonight, that he was a psych ward deserter.

  Sethos wound up his hands again to throw another flaming power ball.

  Tristan realized what he could do. Using his kinetics again, he pointed at the ceiling and swiped his hand through the air. A thick conduit running through the exposed beams broke loose and yanked a power cable away from an electrical terminal.

  Sethos looked up as the exposed hot wires on the cable hit him, lighting him up like a floodlight.

  Darkness swamped the room, but without the contacts, plenty of light came through the small window for Tristan to see.

  The troll who had carried Mac to this room and locked her in the manacles came running down the stairs. He dove at Sethos in an attempt to tackle him and break him away from the live wire. They both lit up before the troll’s momentum broke the electrical connection.

  Damn. Tristan had been hoping both of them would fry.

  He pointed at the keys on the troll’s belt and drew them to his hands.

  Then he swung around to a white-faced Mac, unlocked her wrists, and eased down her arms that had to be aching. “Can you run?”

  Her shocked eyes sharpened and met his. “Yes, but, um, you–”

  He took off, towing her behind him. When he reached the stairs, the troll he’d stolen the keys from shoved up, growling like a pissed-off Rottweiler.

  Tristan tossed a kinetic hit at him and sent the stocky bastard flying into metal cabinets. His body crushed them, then he dropped face-first to the floor.

  Mac mumbled, “What the–”

  Tristan pulled her up the stairs behind him before she could finish her question. At the top, he slowly looked around a corner and found the other troll’s body with a burn hole through the middle. Next to him were two charred bodies he couldn’t recognize.

  Mac covered her nose. “What stinks?”

  “Dead troll and–”

  “What? Never mind.”

  He towed her through the great room, knocking lights out kinetically as he went. Pausing at the front door, he looked outside where the night was graveyard quiet.

  Bad analogy.

  She whispered, “What are you looking for?”

  “Anyone and anything.” He meant it. The woods could be full of bounty hunters who had found Sethos and might or might not know what he had inside. Sethos had been trafficking preternaturals, selling them as slaves and worse, for years. Tristan had barely avoided him more than once.

  Sethos would recover soon.

  Tristan had to get Mac as far from here as possible, but going out this door would leave them vulnerable to unknown threats.

  That left him one choice, which he’d hoped to avoid. He squeezed Mac’s hand. “Ready?”

  “For what?”

  It would probably be better not to tell her. “I have a place we can go that Sethos won’t know about.”

  “But we don’t know where we are to have any idea which way to run.”

  “We traveled for about an hour by truck, so we’re twenty or thirty miles outside the Atlanta city limits.”

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Going on foot might be better if they could make it to the tree line sixty yards away. He had no idea if his misfire on teleporting downstairs had been due to Sethos placing some kind of ward on the room, or if it meant Tristan was still a quart low on power.

  He turned to Mac and saw Sethos emerge from the stairs behind her.

  She looked terrified, but asked in a firm
voice, “How do you want to do this?”

  Sethos sneered and cocked his arm to make a throw.

  Tristan wrapped his arms around Mac, spun her, and called up all his power as heat struck his back.

  Chapter 7

  Mac had never suffered vertigo, but the world was spinning in a kaleidoscope of colors. She clutched Tristan and he groaned. Had she hurt him?

  The spinning stopped and she took several breaths. “I was dizzy, but I’m good to go. You ready?” She lifted her head.

  He looked down at her. “We’re here.”

  “Where here?”

  “A place I stay when I come to town.”

  She looked around at a room that reminded her of elegance from another era. The sleek furniture would now be called retro, with clean lines and linen upholstery. Lights glowed in the night outside, filtering through the sheers. She gawked at the room that she should not be standing in at this moment.

  A bar stocked with fine liquor. Blonde hardwood floors ran across the space. She turned the other way. A six-foot-wide, flat-screen television sat in one corner.

  “Mac?”

  She pulled out of Tristan’s embrace and walked to the window, pushing aside the sheer. The lights shining outside were from the Fox Theater marquee. Everything along the street had been decorated for the holidays. “Where are we?”

  “Georgian Hotel in downtown Atlanta.”

  That’s what she’d guessed, but hadn’t wanted to believe. She turned back to Tristan. “How did we get here?”

  “Teleported.”

  “Your eyes glow. You throw invisible power around and you teleport.”

  He nodded and crossed his arms. Waiting.

  Did he expect her to keep calling him a lunatic? Of course he did, because earlier she’d thought if she kept saying it, she might make it true.

  “What are you, Tristan?”

  She grimaced at how she’d spoken to him. He hadn’t flinched, but her question had sounded disdainful to her own ears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound–”

  “As if I’m some monster?” he finished. “I am. So is Sethos. So are a lot of people in this world you aren’t supposed to know about.”