Omega Force 01- Storm Force

by Susannah Sandlin

  He unfolded the sheets and frowned at what appeared to be a contract. An agreement signed by Michael Benedict and Paul Chastaine regarding the promise of marriage between Emory Elisabeth and—

  “Wait. Tell me what this is.” He looked up at Mori.

  “It’s a bill of sale, basically.” She raised her chin, almost defiant. “My parents promised me in marriage to Michael Benedict on the day of my christening. The marriage — or at least the formal engagement — was supposed to happen on my twenty-fifth birthday. That was the day after the bombing. Apparently, quite a bit of money was involved.”

  Only Nik didn’t look surprised. Kell struggled to understand.

  “But why would your parents sell you to a man twice your age? I mean, even for money. Something’s missing here. You’re both wolf-shifters, right? Does it have something to do with that?”

  “Not just wolf-shifters. Dire Wolves.” Mori sighed and went back to playing with the fringe on the rug. “The Dire Wolves in the wild have long been extinct. All the children born to the people of my parents’ generation were males. So we die out too unless…” She paused, then took a deep breath. “Unless the only female Dire of childbearing age reproduces and, it is hoped, bears at least one daughter.”

  “And you’re that woman, aren’t you?” Robin moved to the floor and sat beside her, taking her hand. “And Michael, as your alpha, thinks he’s the one who needs to sire the children.”

  Mori nodded. “That’s been the plan since I was born. I learned about it when I was a teenager, but you know what teenagers are like.” Her laugh was bitter. “I thought the years until I turned twenty-five constituted an eternity. I was sure that, by that time, he’d change his mind, or my parents would get me out of it. Or somebody else would have a daughter to carry on the lines. I thought once he knew I didn’t want him, he’d give up.”

  “Only, he didn’t, did he?” Nik’s voice was low and tense, his eyes fixed on Mori from his new perch in the chair next to Kell. “Benedict blew up the fucking Zemurray Building and implicated you to get your attention. More than two hundred people died because he wanted to get your fucking attention.”

  Mori flinched as if Nik had slapped her.

  Kell put a hand on his friend’s wrist and shook his head. Throwing blame was going to shut her down just when she’d finally opened up. “To be clear about this, Mori, you didn’t know Michael had planned this bombing, did you?”

  Her eyes widened. “God, no. I didn’t know about it until the night of my birthday — after you’d picked me up at the FBI offices. I got a flower delivery from Michael, with a note asking if I’d received his message.” She described her trip to the ranch, where she’d learned the truth, and her trip to Galveston the next day, where Michael had not only admitted to the bombing, but to taking Felderman as well.

  “And he hit you,” Kell said softly, remembering how vulnerable she’d been that night, how tender and yet desperate.

  Mori blushed, as if being hit was something that shamed her, something she’d asked for. Kell didn’t know what Dire Wolves were, but he didn’t much like them if they took the woman on whose shoulders they’d burdened the continuation of their entire species and then beat the spirit out of her, whether by physical or mental methods. Abuse was abuse.

  “Tell us the rest.” Kell glanced at Nik. He’d relaxed, the fierce light gone from his eyes, and that more than anything convinced Kell that Mori was being truthful.

  She talked for almost an hour, explaining the offers she’d made to Benedict to have his children via artificial insemination, in hopes of keeping the species alive while maintaining her independence. The point at which she’d finally decided she had to give in to Michael was after being with Kell, realizing it might be the only way to prevent Michael from doing the same thing in New Orleans that he’d done in Houston and hurting Kell in the process.

  Kell squirmed a little at that, the bandage over his shoulder feeling tight and itchy all of a sudden. He appreciated that not one single member of his team looked at him, because he definitely wanted to thump himself on the head for being an idiot and not seeing what she’d been willing to sacrifice for him.

  Mori talked about how Michael had taunted her when she finally went to him, branded her, locked her up, and planned to use her. She managed to talk without emotion, not meeting anyone’s eyes, but not hesitating, either. Kell thought she was relieved to be unloading it all.

  “The sad thing is,” she said, finally looking up at Kell, “I’m not sure it matters. Michael liked the power that controlling Felderman gave him, and he liked that the bombing put an end to the industrial-expansion talks, which would have destroyed more of our habitat. I have a horrible feeling he’s going to do it again, no matter what does or doesn’t happen with me.”

  “Have you heard him say anything about New Orleans?” Kell leaned forward, letting out a hiss as the pain in his back from falling on the fucking floor met the pain in his shoulder from being torpedoed by the fucking flying cat.

  Mori nodded. “Just once — the day I went to Galveston to confront him about the Houston bombing. He said if I didn’t give in, he’d do the same thing in New Orleans on Labor Day. I got the feeling he’d already put the plan in place. It didn’t feel like a spur-of-the-moment threat.”

  Kell wasn’t surprised. Even if Benedict hadn’t planned it earlier, once he had a taste of the power he’d gained by bombing Zemurray and taking Felderman, he would want to try again.

  He needed a solo chat with Nik to talk about their next move, but his cell vibrated before he could come up with a way to get rid of everyone else. He looked at the screen, expecting to see Colonel Thomas’s name, but it was Gadget.

  “Sorry we didn’t call you, man. We’re back at—”

  “We found the bomb site.” It wasn’t Gadget’s interruption that startled Kell, but the gravity of his voice. Gadget was never serious. Ever.

  Kell switched the phone to speaker and held it out. “Tell us what you found.”

  “Well, what Adam found.” Gadget cleared his throat and paused as if having trouble getting the words out. “He’d been tailing different employees of Tex-La Shipping, and today his target led him to the headquarters of the World Trade Center on Canal Street.”

  Nik shuffled through some papers on the table and pulled one from the stack. “The WTC people were planning a kind of meet and greet with new oil interests the state wanted to lure in, right?”

  “Yeah, for the day after Labor Day. But then you—wait. Is this on speaker? Take it off speaker, Kell.”

  Kell shrugged, shut off the phone’s speaker mode, and raised it to his ear. “What’s up with that?”

  Gadget’s voice cracked. “Adam walked in on two of Benedict’s employees arming one of the bombs. He called me about it from the hallway, but they must have overheard him. Kell, Adam’s dead. I didn’t want Archer to hear it this way.”

  Kell closed his eyes. Damn it. Adam shouldn’t have been working alone. “I’ll take care of it.” He leaned back, aware of the others’ eyes on him but not meeting anyone’s gaze. “What about other bombs?”

  “I’m going in tonight, after hours, to cover the building.” Gadget’s voice cracked. “Damn them. If there’s anything left, I’ll find it.”

  Kell ended the call, the silence in the room louder than any conversation. He raised his eyes to look at Archer, who flinched at whatever he saw in Kell’s expression. Anger. Pity. Sorrow.

  The color drained from Archer’s face. “It’s Adam?”

  Kell nodded. “Let’s go outside and talk.”

  “No.” Archer’s jaw clenched. “Just tell us.”

  Kell filled them in on the rest of Gadget’s report, including Adam’s death. Archer propped his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. When he raised his head again, his eyes had gone a more brilliant green, with elongated pupils. Holy shit. Nik’s apartment wasn’t set up for a three hundred–pound cat.

  Robin rubbed his arm. “Le
t me take you to the airport. You want to go to New Orleans?”

  “No.” Archer looked at Kell. “I’m going to kill Michael Benedict. You with me?”

  Kell had just been thinking the same thing, and when he turned, he saw the same resolve on Nik’s face.

  “Time to plan another mission. This one’s full black.”

  EPISODE 7

  CHAPTER 25

  Mori wanted to sleep, but the night of talking had left her restless about her future and haunted by her past. In a way, she was relieved to have everything out there. The whole ugly truth, with no more lies. But relief only went so far. Unloading hadn’t changed anything; it had only endangered more people.

  And then the news about Archer’s brother…Logic told Mori she wasn’t responsible for what Michael’s people had done or the fact that he’d been power hungry enough to try a hit in New Orleans. But her heart ached to see the funny, full-of-life Archer closing himself off, his eyes dull and empty when Kell finally ordered him to leave. He was in no shape to continue the job, much less go after Michael.

  Nik had deposited him at the airport two hours later, where he’d be making the short flight to New Orleans to claim his brother’s body and then the long trip to the family’s homeplace in Tennessee to say good-bye.

  Mori shifted on the bed, careful not to jostle Kell. He’d been restless in his sleep, but had finally settled down a couple of hours ago, his breathing steady.

  Nik had insisted that the “walking wounded,” as he called them, take his bed while he slept in the recliner. He’d at least meet her gaze now, but still took care not to get too close. She hadn’t figured him out, although she couldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d dragged Kell into her mess, however inadvertent it had been.

  Inadvertent. That was a loaded word, wasn’t it? Mori hadn’t meant any of this to happen, yet her defiance of Michael had set it in motion. Would he have bombed the Zemurray Building if she’d gone to him before her birthday? If she hadn’t spent the last few years openly avoiding him? Would all those people still be alive, all those families intact? Might Kell and his team be off on a less dangerous mission, facing the kind of terrorists they were actually trained to stop?

  “You OK?” Kell’s voice, slurred with half-finished sleep, startled Mori out of the quicksand of her own what-ifs.

  She turned to face him and propped on an elbow. The scratches on his face had scabbed and would probably not scar, unlike his right shoulder. But at least he hadn’t bled through the last bandage Nik had used to cover the gouges last night. “My back’s healing fast now, which is more than I can say for you, Marine.” She kept her voice soft, all too aware that, somewhere beyond the partitions, Nik and Robin might be sleeping. Or listening.

  Kell didn’t return the humor. “I wasn’t talking about your back.”

  Her smile faded. She wasn’t sure her spirit would ever heal, but getting Kell and his friends away from this mess would be a good first step. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I want you to hear me out.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I already don’t like it.”

  She ran a finger along the side of his face, tracing the line of his cheekbone, moving in to brush sensitive fingertips across his lips, feel the scratch of bristly stubble on his strong jawline. She wanted to remember the feel of him, the depth of his eyes, even the little lines that formed on the inner edge of his brows when he frowned — as he was doing now.

  “The answer is no.”

  “I haven’t said anything yet.”

  The frown lines grew deeper. “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s not happening. You’re not going to run from this.”

  Mori settled onto her side, her hand tracing the indentation of his breastbone. She wanted to touch him as long as she could, both to make herself believe he was really here and alive, and to have that tactile memory to carry with her. “I have to leave, and you know it. You can’t arrest Michael without exposing what he is. What I am. Robin. Archer. All of us. The world isn’t ready to know about us. The only way I can have any kind of life is to go somewhere no one can find me — not even you, as much as that hurts.”

  It took him two tries, but Kell finally rolled onto his side, facing Mori. He drew her closer to him. “Listen to me. First, I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I’m not letting you walk out of my life.” He brushed Mori’s hair away from her face and touched his forehead to hers for a moment before pulling back. “Look me in the eye when I say this, and see that I mean it. Michael has to answer for what he’s done, and you have to let my team do its job.”

  He didn’t get it. “But—”

  “This isn’t just about us, Mori, or even about you. It never was. Michael stepped over a line. Hell, he trampled a lot of lines. Whether he set off those bombs to get control over you, or the governor, or the industrial expansion plans, people died. He’s gotta pay for that.”

  A chill ran through her. She’d heard him promise Archer that Michael would pay, but they still thought of this as a regular mission, or job, or whatever they called it in his world. “Kell, you have to be realistic. Robin is shifter strong, but not Dire strong. And as good as you and Nik are, you can’t handle Michael Benedict. Do you know anything about Dires?”

  She watched his face as his ego flared, then got doused by practicality and curiosity. “Tell me.”

  “When you think of a big wolf, it’s the gray wolf.” She slid her hand down his stomach and traced her fingers along the ridge at the top of his hip bone. The soft thud of his heartbeat sped.

  “They might weigh a hundred pounds and grow bigger than a German shepherd, right? They’re powerful. For a Dire, you can easily double that size and weight. You can’t think about him like a regular man, or even a regular shifter. You can’t beat him.”

  “With your help, we could.” Kell leaned in and touched his lips to hers. “It’s time for you to fight for your life, Mori. Not to run, but to make a stand. And we can help you.”

  Mori had rested her hand on his side, and under her fingers, the muscles in his lower back spasmed. Kell rolled onto his back again with an involuntary groan, pulling her into the cocoon of his arm, her cheek resting on his undamaged shoulder. It was hard not to believe him when they were here like this, alone. Well, sort of alone. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest.

  With her help, maybe they could fight Michael. The beta Dire who’d ascend in Michael’s position was a no-nonsense attorney. He’d never go after Michael himself, but he wouldn’t step in to help the man, either, especially if it put him in control.

  Kell’s cell phone vibrated from his pocket, tickling Mori’s leg. She moved aside to let him grab it and look at the screen.

  “Fuck. It’s the colonel.”

  Last night, after their blackout meeting, or whatever he’d called it, Kell had moved into a far corner of the loft, a space Nik called his office. He’d stayed on the phone with his boss for more than an hour while Nik took Archer to the airport. Robin and Mori had been left to watch hurricane updates and try not to eavesdrop.

  At least, Mori had been trying. Robin openly craned her neck and moved from one chair to another in an attempt to hear more.

  The first part of the conversation had mostly been talking on Kell’s part. “He’s cleaning things up for the Colonel,” Robin had whispered. “Left out the whole bit about the sex and the handcuffs.”

  Heat spread across Mori’s face, which made Robin cackle. She sounded more like a chicken than an eagle, although Mori didn’t share that observation.

  The last half of the conversation didn’t go so well, she suspected, because most of Kell’s end of the call had been filled with “Yes, sirs” and “No, sirs” and “I’m sorry, sirs” and “Won’t happen again, sirs.”

  When he’d finally emerged from the office, his face looked pale and drained of energy.

  “Well, that went well.” He’d shaken at least four ibuprofen out of the giant bottle on Nik’s counter, washed t
hem down with the last of Archer’s leftover soda, and collapsed in the recliner with his eyes closed until Nik returned from the airport. Only then had he told them the colonel had ordered them to stay put until morning.

  Guess it was officially morning, even though the clock on the bedside table read only 4:35 a.m.

  Mori got up and padded into the living room area to give Kell privacy. She was surprised to see Nik sitting at the small dining table with a coffee cup in front of him, writing on some type of pad or tablet. Robin remained curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket so tightly only a few spikes of auburn hair poked out.

  “Cups are in the cabinet over the sink. Coffee’s next to the fridge.” Nik never looked up.

  Mori poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from him. He wasn’t writing, as she’d originally thought, but seemed to be drawing on what she could now tell was a sketch pad.

  He glanced up, his pen hovering a couple of inches above the paper. “Do I hear Kell talking?”

  “The colonel just called.” She sipped the coffee, which had a hint of hazelnut and wafted a warm, slightly sweet aroma she found calming. “I wanted to give him some privacy.”

  Nik stared at her a moment, and she wondered what was behind those wary, assessing eyes. He finally shoved the pad across the table at her. “Look familiar?”

  A chill stole across Mori’s shoulder blades. The artistry was professional, but it was the subject that startled her. A wolf, its markings detailed and familiar, stood as viewed from the side, its neck arched and head raised, mouth open in a howl. In the middle of its back was a mark, etched in dark, jagged ink — the letter “B.”

  “It’s me,” Mori whispered, the moment coming back to her in more detail than she’d remembered thus far. “Right after he did it.” No, she might as well call it what it was. “When he branded me. Shifting was the last thing I remember before I woke up in that attic feeling like I was still on fire.” She looked up at Nik. “How could you know?”