by Dakota Rebel
I’d ended up in Egypt at the request of my father. He’d said he just wanted to visit with his daughter, but I’d been in the desert for almost a year and hadn’t laid eyes on him once. Instead, I’d been tracking an illegal arms dealer all over the damn country and hadn’t laid eyes on him, either.
Usually, I was a monster hunter, but apparently, there’s a shortage of monsters in Egypt so the powers-that-be had assigned me to a human. I’d wondered, not infrequently, what I was supposed to do when I found him. My contracts always ended in bloodshed. I’d never killed a human, and I wasn’t sure I could do it if he wasn’t trying to kill me first.
And now, after all this time, my father had decided it was time to see me. I was pretty sure that since he’d made up his mind, my current state of stitchedness wouldn’t change his request.
“Arnold, it’s Mike Trancher.”
Mike was already on the phone, and I mouthed a silent “good luck” before turning to Crystal.
“Can I borrow one of Mike’s shirts? I think something big with buttons would work best over the stitches.”
“Of course,” she said turning toward the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”
“No, I think I’ll come with you,” I said quickly.
“Darling, you can barely stand,” Crystal’s tone was sugary sweet as she smiled at me.
“I can manage.”
I pulled my arms away from Ash and Cyrus and followed Crystal slowly upstairs. With a death grip on the banister I managed to make it all the way there unaided, but she had to help me to the bedroom.
I sat on the bed and watched Crystal go through their closet until she found a shirt she liked for me. It was a baby-blue, button-down that looked way too big for Mike and would have me swimming in it. Perfect.
“The blue will make your eyes pop,” Crystal said.
“Just what a tent is meant to do.” I winced as I struggled to put on the shirt.
Eventually, I had to let Crystal pull it up my arms because every twitch of my muscles had my body screaming in pain. There is no movement a body can make that doesn’t involve your back.
“Those boys like you,” she told me as she buttoned the shirt for me. “And you like them. I could feel your body react to them.”
“Gross!” I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I swatted her hands away. She’d gotten it buttoned to my waist, and that was good enough. “Spill it, sister. What’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you felt my body react to them. What does that mean?”
“It means that you sort of…hummed when they were standing next to you.”
“Are you a witch?” It was blunt, but I wasn’t sure how else to broach the subject, and I wanted to know. Besides, my father had likely told off Mike by now and would be expecting me on base soon.
“Yes.”
She said it so simply all I could do was blink at her for a minute. I hadn’t expected her to ‘fess up so quickly.
“Now,” she urged, ushering me to the door. “Your father will be expecting you. When you’re done at the base, come back and we’ll have an actual talk.”
I didn’t like leaving it like that, but she was right. I had to get back downstairs to where the men who apparently made me hum were waiting to drive me to my father.
We were already at the bottom of the stairs before I thought to ask her if she’d felt Ashim and Cyrus hum around me, too. But they were in earshot, and it was too late.
“Yes,” she said again, that simplistic tone in her voice.
I turned to glare at her, but she just smiled. Shaking my head, I walked over to the door where the guys were waiting.
“I take it we have to go?” I asked.
“Your father’s sort of an asshole,” Mike growled.
“Tell me about it.” I turned back to the guys. “Ready?”
“Absolutely,” Cyrus agreed, taking my arm in his to help me walk.
Ash opened the door, and we ambled together to the civilian truck parked outside. I glanced up at the sky and watched a thin wisp of cloud pass in front of the large, golden moon.
“It’s not really full,” Ash said as he opened the car door for me.
“I know,” I said. “Three more nights before the true full moon.”
“I’m impressed,” Cyrus said. “Most people don’t know that.”
“I sort of keep track,” I mumbled.
Monster hunting required all kinds of study and observation. There was never a time of day or night that I didn’t know when the next full moon was due. It was when Weres and vampires were at their most powerful.
I struggled to get up into the cab and finally had to let Cyrus pick me up around the hips and sit me on the seat. It was totally humiliating to be so reliant on strangers. It made me feel helpless which made me check for my gun. Of course, it was no longer on my belt which meant I’d left it on the kitchen table. It was really unlike me to be so careless with my weapon. With my own body or wellbeing sure, but I never leave without knowing where my gun is.
“Looking for this?” Ash had climbed into the driver’s seat next to me and handed over my holster.
“Thanks.” I was sandwiched between the men now and couldn’t get the gun back on my belt so I was left just holding it in my lap. With my free hand, I reached up to make sure my barrette was still attached to my hair. With a sigh of relief, I found it tightly clasped. At least, the emergency weapon was still on my person where it belonged.
“Don’t feel bad,” Cyrus said, with a comforting hand on my knee. “Anyone would be a little out of sorts after the injury you received. You’re going to have some awesome scars.”
“I already have awesome scars,” I muttered, staring straight ahead.
“I’ll bet.” Cyrus turned in his seat to face me. “You’re sort of a legend on base. The whole Baine family is. You guys chase some pretty wicked shit.”
“Yeah,” I laughed but grimaced as the motion tugged at my stitches. “We’re a pretty crazy family.”
“Did you really kill a crossbreed when you were only eighteen?”
“Cyrus!” Ash barked loudly at the other man.
I looked over at the driver’s seat, but Ash just kept his face forward, watching the empty desert stretch out in front of us. The warning tone he’d used with Cyrus made me wonder if he could sense that I didn’t want to talk about it.
“Sorry,” Cyrus mumbled. “I’ve just never met anyone with the kill sheet you have. It’s impressive, and I got carried away.”
He looked confused by Ash’s anger but must have known the man well enough that he apologized to me.
My stomach had knotted at Cyrus’ question, and I was glad Ash had gotten him to drop it. I tried so hard not to think about Skip and what had happened between us. I’d fallen in love with him and even though he’d tried to kill Mitch, it had been difficult for me to pull that trigger.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s pretty common for people to be curious when they come across a Baine. Have you studied Mitch’s career, too?”
“Your brother’s records were sealed when he died.” Cyrus shrugged. “But I’ve heard all kinds of rumors about his contracts.”
“When he died?” I raised an eyebrow at Cyrus. “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean what do I mean?” Cyrus looked as confused as I felt. “He died before you enlisted right? Oh my God, don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked with a laugh. “I just talked to him two weeks ago. He and Jarrod are thinking about visiting me. Do you mean died as in ‘became a vampire’? I’ve never heard anyone refer to him as dead before. I guess because he walks and talks, I forget he’s technically a corpse. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Cyrus looked as if I’d lost my mind, and a glance at Ash showed me he thought I was crazy, too.
“Vampire?” Cyrus asked. “Mitch is a vampire?”
Oh shit.
>
Chapter Three
“You know, Captain, if you wanted everyone to think Mitch was dead, you probably should’ve warned me. I can’t keep a secret I don’t know is a fucking secret.”
I burst into my dad’s office with such rage I barely felt the sting through my back. Anger did a lot to cover pain, and at this point, I was so pissed off I wasn’t having trouble moving anymore.
“Nice to see you, too, Reagan,” Dad said, without getting up from behind his desk. “Please come in.”
“Stop it!” I growled in frustration. “How could you do that? How could you basically kill off your own son? You sick fuck!”
“Are you done?” He was still calm, and it riled me up even more.
He had no right to sit there and act as if everything was fine. We weren’t talking about the weather. We were talking about the fact that the military had declared my brother dead.
“No, I’m not done,” I raged. “I’m just getting started.”
“No, you’re not.” He huffed and motioned to a chair. “Sit down before you pop a stitch.”
“Don’t pretend you’re concerned about my wellbeing. If you gave a rat’s ass, you wouldn’t have dragged me down here tonight.”
“It’s because I give a rat’s ass that I made you come in. If I’d left you with the Trancher’s you’d have been killed. And them too, most likely. Now, sit the fuck down, and let me talk to you.”
I sat, and as some of my anger deflated, my spine started to burn. I kept to the edge of the chair to make sure my back didn’t come in contact with anything. There was no way in hell I’d show pain in front of my dad. He hated weakness, and just because I was a girl with almost a hundred stitches in my back, it didn’t mean he’d show sympathy. Especially since, he probably knew I’d done it to myself.
“So explain,” I said coldly.
“Did I do this to you?” he asked quietly. His tone didn’t match the mood in the room, and it caught me off guard.
For the first time in a year, I looked at him, really looked at him, and realized he looked old. His eyes had more lines, and his receding hair was full of gray streaks. I wanted to ask when the last time he’d seen Mom was, but I didn’t want to poke at his wounds. Mom was the only soft spot he had, and it was never a good idea to bring her up.
“Do what to me?”
“Make you such a hard ass.” He sighed and stood, walking around the desk and leaning on the front so he could be closer to me. “I’m sorry that I was never there for you, Reagan.”
“Cut the crap, Dad. You must need me pretty bad to be pouring it on this thick.”
Dad was never soft with me, and he had no regrets about how I’d turned out. If anything, he was proud of my ability to swallow all kinds of pain, physical and emotional.
“Well yeah, I do have something I need you to do. But I really did make you come tonight to keep you from getting hurt, at least more hurt than you already are. Duran is onto us, and he knows you’re the one tracking him. He’s put a bounty on your head, and it’s big enough that you’ll have some scary motherfuckers tracking you down.”
Maxwell Duran was the arms dealer I’d been trying to catch for a year. He was a sneaky little fucker and certifiably insane. Every time I thought I had him, he disappeared again, only to send his men back to the area he’d vacated to slaughter innocent people. All of the locals were too terrified at this point to even talk to me anymore. Hell, even some of the military guys gave me a wide berth these days.
“The contract has been clarified to kill on sight, and he knows that, too,” Dad continued. “So we’re taking you off the job and sending you home.”
“What?” I stood up quickly and regretted it instantly as I felt blood start to trickle down my back. Before I could stop myself, I fell forward onto the desk, my hands barely catching me.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked with what sounded like actual concern in his voice.
“Don’t pretend like you care.” My voice was weaker than I would have liked, and my vision swam from the pain as I lied to him. “I’m fine.”
“That’s it.” He walked around the desk again and picked up the phone. “Send them in.”
“Send who in?” I asked as I sank back down into the chair.
“Cyrus and Ashim. Your ass is on a plane tonight. They’ve just been briefed, and they’ll escort you home. I’ve already talked to your mother, and she’s setting up the guest room for them. When we’re sure Duran’s no longer a threat, they’ll return here, but you’re staying in the States. It’s too dangerous for you here. Even after we get that scumbag, there’ll be ten people waiting to take his place. I won’t risk losing you like I lost Mitch.”
“Oh yeah,” I snarled, anger starting to seep back in. “You didn’t lose Mitch, Dad. You pushed him away with both hands. He’s still here, just a phone call or a plane ride away. You’re the one who’s shut him out. For fuck’s sake, you let everyone think he was dead.”
“He is dead, Reagan!” Dad slammed his fist on the desk as Cyrus and Ash walked through the door. “Just because he walks and talks, doesn’t mean he isn’t a fucking corpse.”
“That’s right, God forbid Arnold Baine’s son dare to be gay and a vampire. Better to let everyone think he’s dead than have to own up to your son not being what you wanted, isn’t it? You know what Dad? Go to hell.”
I stood up again and walked toward the door, but he called out for me to stop. I turned and saw him standing behind the desk with his arms crossed. He watched me curiously, his lips pressed tightly together and his eyes creased at the edges. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if he should.
Since he’d called out to me, I let the silence stretch, waiting for him to speak again. I couldn’t imagine I wanted to hear anything he had to say to me, but I waited anyway. After a full minute of his silence, I shook my head and walked out the door.
He’d never change. Mitch had tried to tell me that for years, but he was my dad and I wanted to believe in him. However, if this was how it was going to be then I was done. If he could shut out one kid without a second thought, then he could just forget about me, too.
“Sorry you guys had to see that,” I mumbled as Ash and Cyrus followed me from the office.
“I’m sorry we did, too,” Ash said. “I can tell you aren’t the kind of person who’s fond of airing dirty laundry in front of strangers.”
“Are you okay?” Cyrus asked with a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m fine, just pissed.”
“Well, I’d guess you have about five minutes before you pass out from blood loss,” he said, pulling me to a stop. “So where would you like to do that? We can hang out here and let the military doctors stitch you back up, or I can carry you to the truck and Ash can help you there.”
“What do you mean?” I heard my words slurring and knew the guys were right. I wouldn’t make it much longer without some sort of medical attention.
“You’ve ripped quite a few stitches, and your entire back is covered in blood,” Ash said as he started walking toward the front of the building. “If you’ll trust me, I can heal you enough to get you on the plane. If you don’t, then we’ll stay here and let a doctor see you.”
The strange thing was my complete lack of pain. It seemed as if I should be hurting if I’d lost as much blood as they said I had, but I was more numb than anything.
I started to follow Ash and sensed Cyrus behind me. Again, I couldn’t help feeling what an inopportune time my body chose to react to the men. My vision was swimming, but I wanted nothing more than to be crammed between their hot, hard bodies. I wanted their hands on me, their mouths tasting my skin, their hard cocks impaling my body.
I stumbled, and only Cyrus’ quick reaction kept me from falling to the floor. He scooped me up in his arms and started walking faster. I laid my head on his chest and listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat as I started to fall asleep.
“Ash!” Cyrus yelled. He broke into a run, and
the jostling kept me conscious. “We’re losing her. Pick a fucking room man. We’re not going to make it to the truck.”
I heard a loud crash and tried to look in the direction of the sound, but all I could focus on was Cyrus’ large forearm supporting my neck. The bang sounded again, and I realized it was a door being slammed.
“Reagan, sweetie, I need to take your shirt off, okay?” Ash asked.
“Mmm,” I murmured in response.
Cyrus put me on my feet and supported me with an arm around my waist as his other hand undid the holster I’d put on after we’d gotten to the base. As soon as he’d gently laid it on the table behind us, my body was tugged sideways as Ash ripped open my shirt from behind. I laid my forehead on Cyrus’ shoulder and trusted him to support my full weight against him.
“I’m going to touch you with my hands, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have to lay my chest against your back, okay?” Ash asked, his tone more frantic than it had been before.
I wasn’t sure what was going on, and I was too tired to ask. I just nodded my permission against Cyrus’ body. After a minute, I felt something like a warm breeze against my skin. It felt amazing and drew a moan from my lips.
“Fuck,” Ash muttered behind me. “Reagan, it’s not working. Cyrus hold her tighter. I don’t want her to jump and make the rip worse.”
I was about to ask what he meant by “rip” when there was an intensely hot pressure against my back and pain flared up my spine. Cyrus’ chest muffled my scream as one of his arms held tight around my waist. The other pressed my head into his shirt.
Tears stung my eyes and the embarrassment of crying forced me to choke the emotion back. I was half-naked, bleeding and pressed between two strange men just down the hall from my father’s office. I wouldn’t add to my discomfort by breaking down in front of them.
