by Lisa Oliver
“Are you really that stupid, or is this some sort of game to you? Pearson said, stepping closer to where Nate was still clutched in Dante’s firm grip. “Cam is our new pack Omega. Our Omega, don’t you get it?”
“So he’s expendable, right? Weakest in the pack and all that. Still better than anyone else getting hurt.”
Roger growled low, his legs tense ready to spring out of his chair, the moment Pearson gave him the word. Pearson looked like he felt the same way. But his Alpha wasn’t quite finished with Nate yet.
“Where did they take the Omega, Nate? Where were Donoghue and his friend going?”
“I’m not sure. Apparently he has some club in New York, but that is filled with humans. He said something to his friend about his local coven.”
“Steel, coven’s in the New York area. Teric get in touch with the Council let them know we’re about to launch an attack to get our Omega back. Drop Nate, Dante. I’d kill him myself, but it’s your right Roger, as Cam’s mate. Make it quick.”
“Run,” Roger snarled, finally letting his wolf take charge. Nate hadn’t made it out of the door before Roger’s huge wolf had him in his teeth. It was over far too quickly for Roger’s liking, but he reminded his wolf they had a mate to find.
Roger shifted back into human form, kneeling on the floor over a dead body. He stunk of blood, but he didn’t care. He shook his head to clear his senses, his head still swimming from the spike of adrenalin and the super-fast shift back.
“You’ll need some clothes, here.” Roger looked up to see Devin handing him some sweats, which he pulled on quickly.
“You don’t have to come with, you know. I don’t expect you to fight your own kind,” Roger said. He liked Devin. The man wasn’t very big, but he was fast and he had fitted into the pack better than expected. Roger had been on Dungeon duty a couple of times when Devin had changed forms, and yep, watching Devin’s vampire throw Ace around like a sex toy had made him chuckle to himself on more than one occasion. Not that he would ever say so to either man. Devin was powerfully strong, and Ace wasn’t known for his sense of humor.
“He’s pack. I’m pack,” Devin said with an evil smile of his own. “Besides, I caught a whiff of that Donoghue and he’s a very young vampire. He’ll be real sorry to have messed with any of us, but especially me.”
“Glad to have you on board then,” Roger said, accepting Devin’s hand to get up. He would change his clothes before he left, but right now he wanted some input on what was being done to get his mate back.
Chapter Sixteen
The first thing Cam became aware of was a fucking jack hammer going off in his head. He knew immediately he was in some sort of cell, a basement maybe. The air was damp and smelled of mold, and the concrete blocks behind his back were cold and harsh on his skin. He could pick up the lingering scent of Donoghue, and…Murphy. Cam shivered. He hated Donoghue’s best friend more than he hated Donoghue if that was remotely possible. His skin crawled at the thought of the brute of a man touching him again, although for now at least, it seemed like he was alone. The scents were faded making Cam wonder how long he’d been unconscious.
Slowly Cam opened his eyes. It was dim, wherever it was that he was. The only light in the room came from a small barred window high above his head. There were shackles on his wrists and ankles. Yeah, not like he hadn’t been in that position before, and the naked part - like Donoghue would ever let him wear clothes. But from what Cam could sense, he wasn’t at Donoghue’s club. In fact, he was fairly sure he’d never been in this place before. Donoghue’s club basement were where all of his dungeons and play rooms were, but this room smelt musty, old, like it was barely ever used. And there wasn’t a hint of human scent in the air.
Cam’s thoughts immediately went to his mate. Roger must know he’d been taken by now, and would surely try and find him. But without knowing how long he’d been out, or where they had taken him, Cam despaired of his mate ever finding him. As the solid wood door of the cell opened and Cam saw the doorway filled with Donoghue’s frame, he didn’t think he was going to be alive long enough to worry about it. As Donoghue moved closer, that knowledge intensified.
For the first time in Cam’s memory, Donoghue didn’t look like his human self. His eyes were blood red, and the rage on his face, while a common enough memory from Cam’s past, sent a shaft of fear down his spine. This face had fangs. Cam was a dead man. That was a given. Unfortunately, knowing his ex-master like he did, Cam also knew it would be neither fast, nor painless.
“You good for nothing piece of shit. Look at all the trouble you caused me. I’ve had to follow you all the way to fucking Washington – hiding out in a wolf pack – how fucking cute.”
Cam kept silent. It wasn’t as though Donoghue had asked him a question and when the man started on one of his rants Cam had found it easier to let him get on with it. Donoghue had come into the room, standing so close Cam could touch him, if he hadn’t been chained up. But what was worse was that Murphy was with him. While Donoghue was tall and quite slim with his razor cut dark hair, and his mean eyes, Murphy was a lot broader, carried more muscle and his bright red hair hung in waves across his shoulders.
Murphy might look more approachable, facial expression wise, but Cam had been around the man enough to know that expression was a farce. Murphy was a pure sadist and his only excitement seemed to come from hearing a sub scream in agony. Cam decided then and there he wasn’t going to give either man the satisfaction of sharing his pain. Sure, he knew he’d be killed for his silence, eventually, but for the first time in his life, Cam was going to stand up for himself anyway he could. A dead man had nothing to lose.
He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t desperate. One man had loved him enough to save him once, and while Cam was under no illusions Roger would get to him in time, he knew with every cell in his body that Roger would come, and then Donoghue and Murphy would be dead as well. Cam only hoped that his mate, his wonderful Roger, would be able to survive his passing. His heart broke at the thought of his mate being alone, but Cam’s resolve strengthened and despite the chains, the smell, and the anger that resonated around the room, he managed to stand a little straighter. He would die with some dignity, and make his mate proud.
Looking directly into Donoghue’s blood red eyes, Cam snarled, “Do your worse. I’m as good as dead and without my mate I have nothing to live for. Have your fun, and you’d better enjoy it, because it is the last time you’ll feed from me, bloodsucker.”
For a moment Donoghue seemed taken aback, and he looked at Murphy, a quizzical look on his face.
“You’re mated, to another wolf?”
“To an enforcer in the Washington Pack,” Cam said with pride as he thought about his mate. The thought of Roger could bring a smile to his face regardless of the situation. “And,” he added just for kicks and giggles because he knew things were going to get ugly in a matter of minutes, “I’m the Washington Pack Omega. Between my new Alpha and my mate, you guys are as good as dead. You should never have messed with an Omega wolf.”
Donoghue’s eyes narrowed and he indicated to Murphy. The two men moved back towards the door. Even though their voices were quiet, Cam could hear them and it seemed, the two men were more than a bit worried. Good, they should be.
“An Omega man, you never told me this sub was an Omega wolf. They’re like fucking sacred or something to wolves.”
“I didn’t fucking know, and that little shit from last night never said anything. He made it out like my sub was taken in like a fucking stray or something. Never said anything about being claimed, or about him being special.”
“Must be why his blood is so fucking tasty,” Murphy mused, flashing another look at Cam. Cam kept his face expressionless. He didn’t want the two men to know he could hear them.
“Well we haven’t got time to play,” Donoghue hissed. “The pack is only a few hours away and even if they don’t know about this coven, they soon will. Stavia will have our heads for b
ringing a pack to coven grounds.”
So I’m at a coven, Cam thought. Interesting, although Cam wasn’t sure how that would be helpful to him. But at least he hadn’t been taken to some random house in the middle of nowhere. Roger would find him, although Cam was likely to be his corpse by the time that happened.
“What are we gonna do then,” Murphy hissed. “Just let him go and pray like fuck no one finds us?”
Cam hated the hope that flared in his heart for just one split second. He knew Donoghue wouldn’t let him go, not until he was dead. The one thing Donoghue hated above all else, was someone taking his possessions, and Cam had known virtually from day one, that was how Donoghue saw him. Not even a pet, or a slave who would be cared for. From the first mouthful of food Donoghue had given him, all those years ago, Cam had belonged to Donoghue. It was just a shame he meant nothing more to the man than his coffee machine or his watch.
Sure enough Cam saw Donoghue shake his head. “We’re gonna have to do a runner, lay low for a while. Might as well have a snack for the road.”
“Fangs this time. Fuck, I’ve wanted to sink my fangs into that neck since the first time I saw it.”
“Might as well,” and Cam’s heart dropped when he caught a glimpse of Donoghue’s malicious grin. “Boy’s not going to be around to talk about it. Not if he satisfies both of us.”
“Yeah man, I’m hungry.”
“Then let’s eat. But make it fast.”
As the two men advanced towards Cam, he struggled in his bindings, but there was no way he could get free. He could feel his wolf frantic inside of him and knew he might have a chance if he could shift. Surely Donoghue wouldn’t want fur in his pearly white fangs, although Murphy might like it. But such is the nature of an Omega wolf. If scared, they don’t shift, they can’t. It can be seen as a challenge by another predator which is why Cam could only shift if he was calm or happy.
And there was nothing calming or happy about watching two big men stride towards him, fangs glinting in the half light, red eyes shining. Donoghue and Murphy were the definition of hungry. Chained to the wall there was nothing Cam could do, no way to escape. As the two men crowded in on him on either side, their heads poised to strike, Cam closed his eyes and thought of his mate.
I do love you Roger. I’m only sorry I never got a chance to tell you.
Harsh fangs hit his neck and Cam bit back a scream, feeling nothing like the bliss he’d felt when Roger had claimed him. Donoghue had bitten right over his mating mark, and for some reason that made Cam feel more violated than anything else. He knew he would be dead in a matter of minutes, but the defilement of his mating mark broke Cam’s already shattered heart.
Keeping his eyes tightly closed, feeling the sucking at his neck, Cam focused only on Roger, his big wonderful mate that he hadn’t had nearly enough time with. They’d never had a chance to do a scene. He would never wear the clothes that Roger had so lovingly bought for him. Roger wouldn’t be able to teach him about computers, and they would never share a movie night together. Cam hadn’t seen a movie in ten years and he squeezed his eyes even tighter, refusing to cry in front of the idiots on his neck.
At least I got to try ice-cream, Cam was thinking as he heard first one thump and then a second one. The teeth and that horrible slurping from either side of his neck were gone. He opened his eyes to see Donoghue and Murphy both rolling around on the floor gasping as though they were in pain or something. What the hell?
“You’re blood…” Donoghue snarled, trying to clean the redness from his fangs, swiping at his tongue, stuffing his fingers in his mouth. “What the hell is wrong with your blood?”
Cam just watched in astonishment as Donoghue and Murphy were choking and retching, probably trying to vomit up anything they’d taken in. Neither Donoghue nor Murphy seemed to be able to stand. Donoghue tried to crawl to the door, but it looked like he didn’t even have the strength to do that. Seconds later he just slumped face down on the concrete.
From where Cam was chained he watched as Donoghue’s face went grey and red tinged froth bubbled from his mouth. Donoghue’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gurgled something. Then he went still. Not three feet away from him, Cam could see Murphy was in the same condition. Both men were dead.
Cam panicked. His heart beat faster and he was having trouble trying to breathe. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen a dead body before. He’d grown up in a wolf pack and some punishments could be quite severe, not to mention it was a death sentence for any rogues that came into his Alpha’s territory.
This was an entirely different situation though. Cam was in a coven, chained to a wall with two fucking dead vampires at his feet. Sure they might have been trying to kill him, but somehow Cam didn’t think Donoghue’s cronies were likely to take that into account. But then none of that would matter if he didn’t get his breathing under control. Could you die from a panic attack? Cam wasn’t sure, but it felt like it.
Closing his eyes again, because honestly there was nothing in his current situation worth looking at, Cam focused on his breathing, thinking about Roger. He knew his mate would be frantic. The man was just too kind, too possessive and too damn nice to be anything but totally off his head, with him gone. And as much as Cam hated the thought of Roger being worried, there wasn’t anything he could do about that either in his current predicament.
So Cam focused on the positive things. Roger’s easy smile and the way it lit up the man’s handsome face. The kind way Roger used his hands to soothe him when he got anxious or fearful. It was those hands that Cam thought about as his breathing slowly settled down. Soft, big, and loving in every way, Cam knew without a shadow of a doubt that his big mate would never hurt him and he longed to be back in his mate’s arms with an intensity that almost scared him.
Fuck, he hoped he got to see his mate just one more time.
Opening his eyes, Cam looked up at his bound wrists. He wasn’t sure if he could shift, with his arms raised up like they were. He thought about what he could remember from the last time he’d shifted – the way the bones changed and grew. If his arms slimmed enough and his hands turned to paws quickly enough, then he would be free of his shackles and the rest of the shift could come naturally. He knew a lot of wolves could partially shift, but he didn’t think it was something he was capable of. Hell, he’d only shifted twice in his life, and wasn’t that just too sad to contemplate. His wolf deserved a better life than that.
Unfortunately he was right, about the partially shifting thing at least. Every time Cam tried to let his wolf free, focusing on just his arms and fingers, his wolf fought with him. His wolf was just as keen to be free as Cam was, but the wolf side of him wanted to take control and just do things his way.
After spending more than ten minutes wrestling with his animal spirit, Cam slumped in his chains exhausted. Maybe if he had been more familiar with his animal side, then things would be different. But right now wolfy was impatient to get out and Cam had given up trying to stop him. He just hoped that neither side of him got hurt in the process. His shoulders ached for one long second, then he heard the snap and grind as his bones and muscle structure changed. When Cam was finally aware of things again, he was laying slumped in a heap, right by Murphy’s body, covered in his white fur.
Cam eyed the door, his senses on high alert. He would have to shift again to get out, that was presuming the door wasn’t locked. But Cam’s shift had taken a long time, and the last thing he wanted was to be vulnerable, naked and mid shift, if the other members of the coven found him. One sight of Donoghue and Murphy’s bodies and Cam would be dead, no questions asked. Paranormal justice was swift and nearly always deadly. Cam knew that and he had been living among humans for years.
Edging his way around the carcasses on the floor, Cam curled up in the corner, as far away from the bodies as he could get. Although he could still feel the chill of the concrete through his fur, it was better than being naked, and Cam curled up, watching the door, tu
cking his tail underneath him. He needed to think. He needed his mate. He needed to get home.
Chapter Seventeen
Cam came too with a start and realized two things real quick. One, he was still in the basement and he chuckled in his head. Yeah, right. It wasn’t as though some freaking fairy had got him out when he slept and magicked him back to his mate. Two, someone was coming in to the basement. Cam jumped to his feet, still four of them he noted, and growled. He could smell vampire and knew he could be in real trouble.
“Well, what have we here?” A voice said with an amused tone. “A very pretty wolf, and two dead vampires. Hmmm, your Omega, I take it?”
“My Omega, although what the hell happened here is anyone’s guess. An Omega wolf can’t take out a vampire,” a second voice agreed and this was one Cam recognized. It was Pearson. What was Pearson doing with a vampire, in a coven? Well, duh! Cam would have hit himself if he wasn’t on four paws. Clearly the cavalry had arrived. But Cam was still anxious and he made no move to go to Pearson.
The tall, well built, and yes Cam noticed, good looking stranger, went over and gave Donoghue’s body a kick. Then he bent down, taking a closer look. Donoghue still had blood residue around his mouth although it was now dried.
“Your Omega’s mated, yes? But these idiots have fed from him before?” The stranger asked Pearson. Cam watched closely. Pearson wouldn’t have come to a coven alone. Dante wouldn’t have let him. And chances were Roger was around as well, because he wouldn’t have wanted to have been left out of a rescue attempt. Cam needed to go and look for Roger, it was the only thing that made sense to him and his wolf. But the two men were between him and the door and he didn’t willingly want to go near another vampire.