by Dana Archer
With his hand on the door handle, Ilan glances over his shoulder. “A few good deeds won’t save my soul. Nothing can. Not even you.”
I don’t get a chance to question his odd statement.
Ilan opens the kitchen door, allowing another impressively built man into my home. “Dante.”
Using the other man’s name as a greeting, Ilan affirms my earlier suspicion. Dante is important to Ilan. There’s no denying the familiarity and warmth in Ilan’s tone.
Dante inclines his head before sweeping his gaze from the empty car seat and the blanket lying on the counter to the baby I’m holding, and finally, to my face. The coldness in his eyes hits me, stirring a well of primitive emotions. I want to run, to hide, to hold my breath and pray death passes over me. The primal fear is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I can’t move.
A soft caress along my jaw draws my attention away from the predator watching me, waiting for me to become prey, to the man who’s occupied my dreams for years. Ilan brushes his thumb over my mouth, tugging my lower lip. He bends close to me. His scent surrounds me, easing the tension in my limbs. With Ilan here, I have nothing to fear.
My breath escapes on a long sigh, and his lips part on a deep inhale. Need slides into his eyes. I feel his desire as if it’s my own. He’ll devour me if he ever decides to kiss me.
“I got the formula, diapers, and other stuff the internet said newborns need.”
Dante’s voice breaks the spell Ilan’s cast over me. I glance past Ilan’s body and study the man who left me frozen in place moments ago. Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, he appears human, especially with his short black hair and the edge of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. He’s not, though.
He’s a predator. Exactly like Ilan.
Dante sets several bags on the counter near the sink. “Uri’s bringing up the bigger stuff.”
“Uri?” Ilan steps around me. “Why did you bring him?”
“Because he was there when I got your call, and Uri’s a nosy bastard now that he’s a cop.” Dante enunciates the word with equal parts annoyance and disdain. “That’s why.”
The tiny hairs on my arms stand up, just as they did near Ilan right after he shifted. Uri steps into my kitchen, bending his head to walk through the doorway. Although I’ve seen him several times in the Black Widow with Rick, I’m always struck by Uri’s size. He’d put any linebacker to shame. He’s bigger than Ilan or even Dante. Taller and also wider, but he moves with a grace neither man possesses.
Uri slides his gaze to me. His brown eyes meet mine. There’s no power behind them, not like Ilan’s or Dante’s stares. Wavy, golden brown hair sticks out in disarray from the black beanie cap on his head. He’s dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, much like Dante. Uri somewhat resembles him too with his wider nose, harsher cheekbones, and slightly uptilted eyes. There’s almost an exotic quality to both men, as if they both shared the same foreign ancestor in their bloodline.
My heart stops for the briefest of moments as realization hits me. Uri’s a shifter, exactly like Dante and Ilan. I’m in a room full of predators. I wait for the fear to seize me. I clench my jaw instead. Six years I’ve been kept in the dark. How many of the other impressive guys who’ve recently moved into the area are shifters?
And does anyone else know?
“You’re like Ilan and Dante, aren’t you?” My racing heart makes my voice sound shaky. I can’t help the worry. If my fellow neighbors can’t even live peacefully with people of different skin colors, Ilan and his friends would be treated as the enemy. “A Royal wolf shifter?”
“Royal shifter, yes. Wolf, no.” Uri crosses my kitchen and turns down the stairs leading to my television room.
“Where are you going?” There’s nothing else down there except my furnace and a half bath. The bathroom on this floor is nicer.
“I need to let my brother in before someone notices him crouched in your yard.” Uri calls out from the first floor.
Ilan’s raw curse makes me jump. “Don’t tell me Uri brought his twin.”
“Okay.” Dante snorts. “I won’t tell you he brought Ezra.”
Ilan takes the baby from me and passes him over to Dante, then wraps one arm tightly around my waist, locking my body to his. “Don’t scream, Sara.”
“Why would—” I suck in a sharp breath as a huge tiger rounds the corner.
Ilan slaps a hand over my mouth. He presses his lips to my ear. “Breathe, angel. You’re safe. I promise you. Ezra will kill for you, just like I did. Just like Dante or Uri will. You’ve never been safer in your life.”
Uri steps in front of the tiger. “Ezra’s going to guard you and the baby while we go back to Ilan’s house and deal with the mess there. Talk to Ezra if you want, but he won’t shift to answer you or help you with the kid. He’s here for protection only.”
“Remember what I said, Sara. You’re safe. Besides me, Ezra’s the best protector you could have.” Ilan drops his hand.
A scream is lodged in my throat, but I press my lips together, fighting the instinctual drive to let it out. I’m safe. Ilan promised me. I believe him.
Ilan wouldn’t lie to me again. Not after tonight. Not after letting me into the secret world he lives in. He trusts me with the knowledge, and trust goes both ways.
Four
Ilan
An angel of death is meant to walk alone. That’s how I’ve met nearly every day of my long life. Alone. Well, that was how I met nearly every day of my life before I stepped into a bar and found my target crying on the shoulder of my true mate.
Rolling my shoulders, I jog across the front yard of the only home I’ve ever owned. I never bothered with one before. Assassins have no use for them. We move from town to town, job to job, leaving death in our wake. The soft grass or a random lover’s bed works for those times we need to sleep. Otherwise, we stick to the shadows. Or at least that’s how most assassins live out their lives.
I cast a sideways glance at my protégé, one of the few I’ve taken over the years. Dante never fit the traditional role of assassin, much to my mentor’s dismay. Jarah, the ancient male who killed my mother and took me from her cold arms, banished Dante from the Host, the brotherhood of assassins.
His continued association with the Winchester pack and the Alexander pride was seen as a weakness. And a threat. Emotions sway a man, tempting him to act with his heart. The shaming and banishment did little to deter my best and most-favored protégé. It only made it easier for Dante to live by his own rules.
Dante meets my gaze for the briefest of moments before dropping to a crouch at the edge of the tree line forming my yard. “A human true mate, huh? The Kane goddess must hate you as much as mine hates me.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. For six years, I’ve pondered my grandmother’s choice. The only conclusion I can come to is that Sara must’ve done something atrocious in a previous life to be damned in this one. “At least yours is a fitting match for you. A predator. A killer in her own right. Sara? Her soul is so pure, I can’t look at her without wanting to cower.”
An amused sound, something between a snort and a laugh, shakes Dante’s chest. “That’s not what I saw when you shared air with her.”
All Royal shifters can see a person’s aura when they tap into those abilities passed on to them by the goddesses. It comes in handy when picking out other Royals from a crowd, as all carry the signature of the goddess they’re descended from. Otherwise, the annoying ability is ignored, much like background noise. Dante’s comment sparks my curiosity, however. “Yeah? What did you see?”
Dante doesn’t answer for a long time. He studies the back of my house with the focused intensity only a feline shifter can convey. Then he slides his gaze to me. “Same thing I see when I look at any set of true mates. An undeniable bond even death can’t sever.”
“Tonight’s the first time I touched her.”
“And?” Dante shrugs, then pushes to his feet and moves deep
er into the woods. “Doesn’t change the fact she’s yours.”
What Dante says is true. Whether I claim Sara or not doesn’t change what she is to me—my true mate, the one soul meant to be bonded to mine. She’ll be my true mate in her next life too. And the one after that. Even if I lose my head or heart and join my goddess in the heavens, Sara will still be my true mate. Only, she’ll face eternity alone, always searching for something—someone—to complete her and never finding it.
The tightness returns to my shoulders. Rolling them would be too obvious. It won’t help either. I’ve been damned, betrayed by my own grandmother. Nothing will change that fact either.
Shoving to my feet, I close the distance between me and Dante, stopping him before he reaches the spot where the shifter who attacked Sara had sat and watched my house. I point to the crushed leaves and trampled ground. “They were here for a while.”
Dante slowly pivots and scans the woods before focusing on my house. “They had a perfect view of your kitchen and the road leading back here too.”
“How did they know about my delivery?”
“How did you?” Dante hunches down and brushes the crunched leaves away, revealing a booted imprint. “Last I heard, you were leaving right after Rick and Mya’s wedding.”
“Sara told me at the reception.”
“She knew you were getting a baby?” Dante’s raised brow matches the disbelief in his voice.
“Sara told me some friends of mine asked her when I’d be home. That they had a precious package for me and had to deliver it in person.”
“Friends?” Dante scoops some dirt, then raises it to his nose. His nostrils flare. “Do you have any besides Josh?”
“Do you count?”
“No.” Dante turns his hand over mine, dumping the dirt he sniffed onto my palm.
“Then why are you here?” I lift the cold soil and inhale, taking the scent of the shifters who sat here into my lungs. My wolves file the knowledge away for when we hunt the coward who dared come after Sara. “I only asked you to go to the store for me, not to bring your pride mates along for this investigation.”
“Honorary pride mates.” Dante gives me a chastising look. “And as you know, the Alexander pride likes to stick their noses where they shouldn’t.”
“You should be glad I did decide to come out here. Otherwise, Ilan might’ve been charged with homicide.”
Uri’s booming voice draws my gaze to where he’s moving through the woods toward us. I wait until he gets closer. He might have no problem talking loud enough for any shifter in a quarter mile radius to hear us, but I do. There’s still one lion shifter left to die. “Homicide? And how exactly would I be charged with homicide? Yesterday morning was the last time I stepped foot in that cabin, and I can guarantee there weren’t any dead bodies in my kitchen then.”
The irritated glare Uri shoots me is the same I’ve seen him give his Shifter Affairs’ partner Rick. Apparently, this look is for anyone who annoys him, not just his partner. “Because I got a call from Ella at Shifter Affairs while you two were out here in the woods. The human wife of one of those two dead men in your house called the police when he didn’t come home. She gave them your address. When it was typed into the system, Shifter Affairs got notified since yours is a known shifter address. Ella called me to check it out.”
“Bet she was surprised to learn you’re already here, huh?” Dante cocks his head to the side. “What did you tell her?”
The warning in Dante’s voice reflects his protectiveness toward me. While we might not be friends, I feel the same for him. Few bonds are as strong in the shifter world as ones forged in blood.
“That I’d begin the investigation and meet the cleanup crew here.” An equally threatening tone laces Uri’s reply. “I had no other choice. There’s a dead shifter’s body in Ilan’s front yard. It needs to be disposed of.”
“A grave works fine for dead bodies.” I let my amusement show in my expression. “Trust me. I’ve been getting rid of my kills for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Uri inclines his head, a sign of respect I’m not expecting. “And providing a service to our species many don’t understand.”
Silence is my friend. It always has been. I embrace it in this moment. I don’t know how I’m supposed to reply to Uri’s comment.
“Funny. You’ve never showered me with the same honor.” Dante smirks. “I kill for a living too, you know.”
“You have pride mates who worry about you. Their stress becomes mine.” Uri motions to me with a jerk of his head. “Ilan has nobody to cry over him. Nobody to care if he doesn’t come home.”
“He does now.”
Dante’s comment brings my current reality to the limelight. Good thing I have an easy answer. “The baby will learn not to cry, just as I did. He has no other way to communicate now.”
A slow, firm push against my shoulder turns me so I’m looking into Dante’s dark eyes. “I’m not talking about that baby.”
The image of Sara with my nephew flashes across my mind. She looked good cradling him against her chest. As if she was meant to hold the future of my pack in her arms. “I had a wet nurse too. She had blue eyes. That’s as much as I remember about her. As soon as the baby’s eating solid food, Sara’s gray eyes will be as much as he’ll remember too.”
“How much will you remember?”
“Everything. Just as I’ll remember everything about these past several years. That’s the curse of immortality.”
“What about Sara?” Dante leans closer and lowers his voice. “Now that she’s touched you, shared air with you, she’s going to long for you. Suffer without you. I’ve seen with my own eyes the damage that can do to a woman. How it can eat at her mind. Make her turn to booze or fighting, anything to numb the hollow feeling.”
For the second time in the span of minutes, I embrace silence, letting my steady stare answer Dante. I understand what Sara will suffer. I’ll be experiencing the same things. The true mate bond goes both ways. If she knew what was in my soul, what I’d be exposing her to if I completed the soul bond, she’d choose an eternity of incompleteness too.
“Ilan’s love life is none of our business. Let’s focus on what is.” Uri turns his warning look from me to Dante. “I’m grabbing my camera and bag from the car. Don’t touch anything until I get back.”
Dante motions me forward once Uri walks away. “Come on. Uri’s right. Let’s get inside before the cleanup crew arrives. I’ve been around them enough to know anyone who doesn’t have a Shifter Affairs badge won’t be allowed on the scene.”
“And yours won’t work?” While Dante wasn’t officially a Shifter Affairs agent, he did freelance work for them and the Shifter Council, the ruling body that makes and enforces shifter law.
“Probably.” Dante casts a glance at me as we make our way to the cabin. “But you’re a civilian.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “I’ve been called many things over the years, but never a civilian. That makes me sound as if I’m a law-abiding citizen. I kill for a living.”
“Yeah?” Dante raises a brow. “When was the last job you completed?”
My steps falter. I force myself to walk normally, but no doubt Dante noticed my slip.
“Yesterday, actually.” It is past midnight now.
“Yeah? Who met death at your hands besides the lion shifter in your front yard? Because he wasn’t a job.”
“I’ve been living here on the Council’s orders. My job’s been ensuring Mya’s unknowing agreement to the conditions that saved her life. Now that she’s mated and married to Rick, I no longer have to act as her parole officer.”
Dante steps in front of me, stopping me from reaching the patio off my kitchen. “You living here and watching over Mya was the price you had to pay for letting her live. That wasn’t a job. It was a punishment.”
“Depends on how you look at it.” I move around Dante.
He grasps my shoulder and waits until I glance at
him. “How does the Host view it?”
If anyone else asked me that question, I’d lie or skirt the answer with a half-truth. The young feline shifter I found living in a wolf pack deserves better. I am the one who lured him into darkness. Of course, Dante would’ve found his way there anyway. I simply taught him how to live with the blood of his kills on his hands and not lose his mind. “The Council sent a detailed report of the incident to the Host. I haven’t heard anything since.”
“And what if they didn’t approve of your actions?” Dante’s pointed look holds concern. I understand where it’s coming from. There are few rules enforced by the Host. Not allowing a mark to escape death is one of the most basic ones.
“Then I would’ve faced death at an angel’s hands.” I jerk my shoulder back, knocking Dante’s hand off. “Obviously, they’ve chosen to accept the Council’s ruling on this matter. The Shifter Council was the body who originally ordered Mya’s death. The Host only passed along the job to me.”
“Our brothers told you this?” Despite being banished, Dante has continued to refer to other assassins as his family. I’ve never questioned his preference. Why should I? I never approved of Dante’s banishment in the first place.
I wave my arm, encompassing the property we’re standing on. “I have not left this county in six years. Last I heard, they didn’t have electricity in the Host’s chamber hall. Makes it a little hard to get in touch with them.”
“There are shifters living in Boston who’d deliver your message to them.”
True. This wasn’t a topic I’d wanted to broach then. It still isn’t. “For someone who doesn’t consider himself my friend, you sure do seem concerned over my well-being.”
Dante holds my gaze for a long moment before sighing. “I need your help.”
“With?”
Dante looks over his shoulder, then steps closer to me and lowers his voice to a whisper. “We found Eli.”
The image of the vicious young wolf shifter from the pack where Dante spent his youth skips through my mind. Dante had planned to make Eli his protégé but never got the chance. Eli landed himself in slavery hundreds of years ago while trying to protect Dante’s true mate. “Where has he been all these years?”
