by Dakota Rebel
“For fuck’s sake, can’t a girl get any amount of afterglow without having a fucking gun pointed in her face?” I asked, my body shaking. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s my apartment!” Mitch yelled back. “What the fuck are you doing here? Well, I mean, I can see what you’re doing. Why are you doing it here?”
“Guys, you should probably get dressed,” I said. “Mitch, this is Ashim and Cyrus. Gentlemen, this is my brother, Mitch. I’m going to find some clothes. Jarrod isn’t in there, is he?” I asked Mitch, pointing toward his room.
“No, he’s out of town,” Mitch said. “Help yourself.”
It was a testament to how close Mitch and I are, not to mention how much fucked up shit we’d been through together, that he hadn’t shot everyone he’d just walked in on. Hell, he’d barely even thrown a fit. I trusted him not to hurt Ash and Cyrus in the time it took me to dig up some clothes.
As I opened the bedroom door and looked around, I realized there was a lot more stuff in there than there had been the last time I’d stayed at the apartment. In fact, it looked as if my brother was living there again. As I dug through the closet for the duffel bag of clothes I kept there, I realized most of his clothes were hanging up and his gun safe was back in the room, too.
When I went back to the living room, all three men were sitting around drinking beer and talking.
“Oh good, we’re all friends now, yes?” I sat next to Cyrus and took a swig from his bottle.
“Close enough,” Ash said, grinning sheepishly.
“So Mitch,” I started cautiously, “how is everything going with Jarrod?”
“Great,” he replied, his eyes lighting up the same way they always did when we talked about his lover. “He’s doing a European tour right now, so that sucks. But he should be home for a few days next month.”
“So you two are still good?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?” Mitch’s tone was suspicious.
“Well, why are you living here and not at the loft?” I asked.
“We sold the loft,” Mitch said with a shrug. “We’re looking for someplace else, but in the meantime, we’ve been crashing here. Since this is my apartment. Not your sex den.”
“Fuck off,” I shot back, rolling my eyes and handing Cyrus his beer back. “Where’s your car? I didn’t see the mustang when we pulled in.”
“Sold that, too,” Mitch replied.
I realized my brother had probably gotten rid of most everything that would remind him of his old life. It made sense that he and Jarrod would want to start fresh after everything that had happened. Lord knew, there were times I wished I could let go of the past, too.
“So,” Mitch said, blatantly changing the subject. “What brings you here? Other than…” He pointed from Ash to Cyrus with a pointed look in my direction.
“I’m on a case,” I replied, snagging Cyrus’ beer again. “I could actually use your help.”
“Sorry, babe,” Mitch said, hands up. “As far as that Army bullshit goes, I’m stone-cold dead. I don’t want anything to do with that life anymore.”
“So you knew?” I asked, staring at him in disbelief. “You knew that Dad basically killed you off, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought you knew. Jesus, Reagan, everyone knew. Though, I did think it was weird you didn’t come to my funeral. I just figured you know you’re a terrible actor and didn’t think you could look properly devastated at the loss of your big brother.”
“First of all, I’m a great actor.” Mitch coughed but I ignored him as I continued. “Secondly, how did you know I didn’t go?”
“Because I was there.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I really thought you knew. But hey, it’s no big deal. I’m fine here. Jarrod would actually prefer I didn’t hunt down his friends anymore. Kind of puts a damper on the relationship.”
I glanced over at Cyrus, but he just smiled and winked at me. Obviously, our relationship wouldn’t be affected by the number of shifters I’d taken out over my own career. Actually, as I looked between him and Ash, I realized that I had no idea what they really did. They’d only said they’d been recruited for their special skills. I made a mental note to find out more about these men who were somehow more mysterious by the day.
“What about the Feds? Do they think you’re dead, too?” I asked. Technically, Mitch had been a Federal Marshal who’d done contract work for the government.
“Nah. But they let me take the out. They even paid Mom some survivor benefits, so that was cool. She took a cruise after I refused to take the cash from her.”
“That’s nice,” I said.
“So,” Mitch said brightly, looking over at my lovers. “Now that you two are done railing my sister, what’s the plan for tonight?”
“No way,” I said as I crossed my arms. “You’re going to help me with this case. The people I need access to probably won’t be military anyway. I want your nefarious rolodex, big brother. Local bad dudes only.”
“What are you hunting, Reagan? I don’t think you’ve ever asked for my help. This must be pretty serious.” Mitch glared at me, and I found myself worried about his reaction.
“Have you ever heard of Maxwell Duran?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Of course, I’ve heard of him,” Mitch said, a small shudder passing through his shoulders. “He’s one sick motherfucker. Please tell me Dad doesn’t have you chasing down one of his goons. That whole group is nothing but trouble.”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “I’m chasing him.”
“Who?” Mitch asked, his eyes narrowed as he got to his feet.
“Duran,” I replied with a shrug.
“Oh no, you fucking are not!” he roared, the volume of his voice making me jump. “What the hell is wrong with the captain? Sending you out after a monster like that. Reagan, you could get killed.”
I stood up and glared back at my brother, my hands on my hips as I took a step toward him.
“I could die on any job, Mitchell Baine. Don’t get all protective now. He’s just a guy. Some random human, which makes him a hell of a lot easier to kill than a lot of the shit I’ve chased. Don’t you get all high and mighty with me.”
“First of all, he is not just some guy. He is seriously one of the scariest people on the planet. I’d bet his kill count is higher than all of ours put together. He’s an international arms dealer who’s also been known to traffic drugs and the occasional human when the money was right. He’s been on the government radar for over twenty years, and not once has anyone been able to get charges to stick.”
“That’s why the contract was changed from capture to kill. I just have to find him, Mitch. Help me locate this bastard, and I’ll put a bullet in his skull from a sniper’s distance. Please.” I rounded on Cyrus and Ash. “And you two can jump in here any time and defend me.”
“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” Cyrus said with a smile.
“Solid arguments, darling,” Ash agreed.
I flipped them off and turned back to my brother. He was still glowering down at me, but I refused to waver. If there was one person on the planet I should be afraid of it was Mitch Baine, the vampire. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt he would never hurt me. If I could stare him down, I could face a thousand Durans, and he knew it, too.
“Reagan,” Mitch said, his voice heavy with defeat. “I really, really don’t want you to do this.”
“Yeah, well, Dad really didn’t want me to do it, either, and yet I got my contract back so it looks like the girl is going to go clean up the mess. I have to do this, Mitch. I’ve never failed at anything.”
“You do realize that the only person who thinks you’re a lesser Baine is you, right? When is it going to be enough, Reagan? When are you finally going to stop chasing monsters and just have a fucking life?” Mitch’s gaze held so much pity it did the exact opposite of what he was trying to do. The longer he looked at me like that, the more pissed I became.
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nbsp; “Look.” I tried not to start screaming again. “I’m going after Duran. You know it. I know it. They know it.” I waved in the direction of Ash and Cyrus. “So you can help me, or you can let me chase him blind until I find him. But Mitch, I am going to get him. It’s not about proving myself, not really. In the end, it’s about trying to save as many lives as I can. That’s what we do. It’s not about killing him. It’s about keeping him from being able to murder anyone else. Please? I never ask you for anything.”
Okay, so part of every job would always be about proving myself. But this one more than any other really was about trying to stop Duran’s murder spree. It had to end. And I would do everything in my power to keep his kill count from growing again.
“Bullshit. You ask me for stuff all the time,” Mitch argued, his tone agitated. He blew out a sigh, and I knew I’d won. He was such a pushover sometimes. One or two well placed “pleases” and he was as good as lost. “You go home and get some rest, visit with Mom, whatever. The guys and I are going to the strip club.”
“Excuse me?” I stared at my brother in disbelief. “Why the hell are you taking my—them—to the titty bar?”
“You want to find Duran? You start with naked girls. All bad guys like strippers; everyone knows that. What do they teach you in basic training?” He sounded exasperated.
“I’m a Baine,” I said as I rolled my eyes at him. “I got to skip the written. So you three are going to watch naked women dance, and I’m going to sit at Mom’s house and wait?” I looked over at Ash and Cyrus, and they had the tact to at least look uncomfortable.
“Reagan, your gay brother is taking your lovers to get information on an international arms dealer so you can put a bullet in his head. It’s not nearly as nefarious as you’re making it out to be.”
I wasn’t so much upset about the strip club as I was that my brother would be alone with Ash and Cyrus and would probably learn more about them than I knew myself. Mitch had a way of needling information out of people that I’d never mastered.
Every moment the guys and I had gotten to ourselves had been spent naked or unconscious. Not necessarily a disappointment, but perhaps there had been some wasted opportunities.
I’d figured out that they were probably spooks, too. They’d told me they were lovers and best friends. I knew Cyrus was a werewolf and Ashim was a Reiki…and that was about it. Not exactly a strong foundation for a relationship. And yet, I cared about them so much. Maybe this would be one of those situations where we could all let go of our pasts and just focus on creating a future together. The more I thought about it, the more I liked that idea very much.
“Earth to Reagan.” Cyrus snapped his fingers in front of my face and my arm shot out, my fingers stabbing him in the Adam’s apple.
“I’m not a dog,” I said irritably. “Don’t fucking snap your fingers at me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said seriously, his hand massaging his throat. “I will add that to the list of Reagan dos and don’ts I have going in my head.”
Mitch snorted, and I flipped him off.
“What?” my brother asked indignantly. “I’m still adding to my mental list of things that piss you off, and I’ve known you your whole life.”
Wonderful. Now, I had to worry about Mitch telling them what a horrible person I can be. This night just kept getting better and better.
“Reagan.”
I looked up to see Ash standing in front of me with his hand out. I took it and let him pull me to my feet and into his arms.
“Cyrus and Mitch can go check out the bar and see what they can find out about Duran, and I will go home with you. Would that be all right?”
“No,” I said, backing away from him and glaring between the three men who were trying their damnedest to look innocent. “Do you think I’m stupid? Is that it? One of you realized it would be a bad idea to let me take off on my own, right? So a big tough dude has to be in my presence at all times. I will take any one of you down, right now.”
“Reagan, I know you’re one bad ass soldier. But I’m a vampire, and I’ve had far more training than you’ve had. I really don’t think you could—”
Since Ash was still standing between me and my brother, Mitch didn’t even see me pull a blade from a hidden sheath in my jeans. I dropped low to the ground and tossed it upwards, hitting Mitch in the thigh before he’d even realized I was going to attack. I found myself glad I’d picked this pair of pants from the bag.
I knew Cyrus would come at me next, and even though I hadn’t seen him fight, I knew what the Army taught their boys. With a jerk of my shoulder, I moved as if I were going to roll to the right. At the first hint of movement from him, I shot to my feet instead, my palm extended, catching his jaw in an upward motion as he was throwing himself down to attack the ground where he’d expected me to be. The impact would have broken his jaw if I’d actually been trying to inflict damage. As I was just proving a point and I didn’t want his beautiful mouth injured, I allowed my wrist bend with his chin, letting him know I could have busted every tooth in his mouth before lowering my arm completely. I swept his legs from under him instead, and his body hit the ground with a loud thud.
Jumping to my feet again, I found myself in Ash’s arms. He held me tight from behind, and I saw Mitch grimace as he pulled the knife from his leg and stalked toward me with it. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the fact I’d have to hurt them in order to get my point across.
As soon as Mitch was in front of me, I threw my weight backward into Ash’s chest, my feet coming up to press against Mitch’s thighs, making sure to dig a toe into the wound.
“Motherfucker!” Mitch yelled as I pushed harder off him, throwing my head backward to blast Ash in the nose.
The impact against his beautiful face made him slacken his grip on me, and I used the distraction to force my arms up, breaking completely away from the men and rolling toward the sofa. Grabbing the two guns still sitting there, I got to my feet and sited, the left trained on Mitch and the right wavering between my lovers.
“Are we done yet?” I asked them.
All three of them were bloody and visibly shaken. Mitch especially knew better than to fuck with me, but the guys apparently still needed the lesson. Hopefully, this would be enough for them. It was exhausting to have a relationship where the man was always trying to get one up on you. It was even harder when they were never able to and you had to watch them walk away. I wasn’t ready to lose Ashim and Cyrus over a game of whose balls were bigger. Mine were, and they just needed to accept it and move along.
“So,” Ash said, his voice slightly nasal as he pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the bleeding. “Does this mean you would like me to go to the strip club with your brother?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I lowered the guns and glared at them all. If it was possible, they actually seemed more frightened by that look than they had been by the guns.
Chapter Thirteen
After another round of arguments, it was finally decided that Cyrus and Mitch would go to the club, and Ash would come with me back to my mom’s house. As much as it rankled, they were finally able to convince me that I wouldn’t blend in at a strip club and they would get more information if they just looked like a couple dudes hanging out looking at tits.
I may have agreed to the arrangement, but I still wasn’t happy about it. The ride back was silent as Ashim nursed his still-bleeding nose, and I seethed at my brother’s need to continue testing me. It had been a long time since I’d had to prove myself to him. And it still irritated the piss out of me. I’d saved his ass from a crossbreed before I’d enlisted in the military. I didn’t need him to scrutinize me the way Dad always did.
I pulled into the driveway, slammed the car into park and yanked the keys from the ignition. Ash wisely stayed quiet as he followed my storming gait toward the house. “Mom?” I called as I pushed open the front door. There was no answer, so I led Ash into the kitchen. “She must be upstairs.”
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bsp; On the table was an envelope addressed to me. I picked it up and ripped the top off, figuring it was the new copy of the contract from the captain.
“Do you want a beer?” Ash asked as he looked in the fridge.
“Please,” I answered as I dumped the contents of the package onto the table. At first, I wasn’t really sure what I was looking at. It wasn’t a contract. It was photographs.
I accepted the beer with a smile of thanks at Ash then glanced back at the pictures. It looked like evidence. There was a lot of blood and gore.
“Reagan?” Ash’s voice was low as he peered over my shoulder. “What is that?”
“I’m not sure,” I said as I shifted around the photos. “It looks like murder pics. But I don’t understand why they’d send these to me. I have plenty of evidence of Duran’s brutality.”
Something about this was off, I could feel it, but my eyes focused slowly on the details. It was just a sea of blood and flesh, white carpet soaked crimson, blonde hair in clumps against someone’s skull. A single blue eye staring blankly at me.
The beer slipped from my fingers and crashed to the floor as recognition poured over me. My stomach turned, and I spun quickly toward the trashcan, barely making it before I began to vomit.
Ash’s hands gripped my hair, holding it back as I emptied my body of any food I’d eaten that day. My abs contracted violently as I continued heaving into the garbage.
“Reagan?” My mom’s voice called from the stairwell. “Honey, is everything all right?”
“Get rid of them,” I groaned to Ash as my gut roiled again, and I spewed more. “Don’t let her see.”
He moved away from me, and I heard the shuffling of paper as he struggled to clean up the mess on the table.
“Sweetie!” Mom ran toward me and pushed my hair from my face with one hand while the other rubbed circles over my back. “Reagan, what happened?”
