Furever Loyal

by Riley Storm

  “What? Why not?”

  He glanced over at Haley, surprised at her question.

  “I never said I approved of the action. I just figured you people had some sort of trial, or ability to challenge someone. Ritual combat or something. You’re all old world like that. A duel! That’s what I was thinking of. You’re going to challenge him to a duel?”

  “No,” he grumbled.

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

  Strangely enough, she didn’t say the same about Krawll or Laurent. While Kincaid didn’t wish for her to develop a bloodthirsty side, he knew it would be difficult for her to adapt to life among shifters if she couldn’t accept that death was a constant companion for them.

  “I wouldn’t get hurt. Not against him. I doubt Laurent has done any fighting in years. Probably a decade or more. His position as Reaver has him in charge of business aspects. He sits fat and pretty in a chair. Still, I can’t touch him.”

  “Why not?”

  “First, I need proof. Actual proof that they are conspiring against me, and that I’m not working for them.”

  “And if you get that?”

  He grimaced. “Even then I can’t do anything.”

  “Why the hell not? If you have proof he’s guilty, that should be enough, right?”

  “He’s guilty of sending me money, yes. There’s no rule against that though. Crimes are on a House by House basis. To Canis, what he’s done isn’t a crime. Because he’s a Title Holder, he’s effectively untouchable. If he was just some lackey, I could go end this already. If I went after him in a fight, Canis as a whole would be forced to respond. It would mean open warfare between the Houses.” He shook his head. “I can’t bring that upon my House, Haley. Not even for my own personal vendetta.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “What the hell can you do then?”

  “I can clear my name.” He growled, baring his teeth savagely. “And I can certainly deal with Krawll. This is dealing enough to prove he’s taking money from the enemy. People saw him try to kill me during the challenge. I’m sure a thorough investigation and questioning will reveal more.”

  “And Laurent just gets away with it, free and clean?”

  Kincaid shrugged helplessly. “I’ll handle it the political way. I doubt anything will come of it, but it’s all I can do.” He stared at the restaurant. “First though, I need that proof.”

  “I get the feeling I’m not going to like how you’ll do that. Am I?”

  He reached into a pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, giving her half. “This is more than enough, plus there’s the rest at the safehouse. Take a cab back. Walk a block away, then hail one. Pay him extra to drop you off several units away. Go inside. I’ll be back for you eventually.”

  Haley rested her right arm on the dash, leaning over onto it while looking at him like he was crazy. “You want me to go back to the safehouse. On my own.”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you going to be doing?”

  “Getting my proof, and I don’t want you to get hurt while I do it,” he said, his protective instincts kicking in around her. He had proof now. Proof that things weren’t all they seemed, and it was within his grasp. All he had to do was reach out and pluck it. But it would all be for naught if Haley got hurt during it.

  “I want to stay with you.”

  “No,” he said, perhaps a little more harshly than he wanted. If she needed to get mad at him to go, then so be it. As long as she was safe.

  “Why not?”

  “Because things are going to get ugly in there,” he stated bluntly.

  “I’ll wait here. In the car. I’ll be the getaway driver,” she said, putting on a brave face, though he could tell she didn’t want to volunteer herself for something like that.

  “No. I need you back at the safehouse.”

  “Why?!”

  “Because I need you,” he snapped. “I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.” He stared straight ahead, upset with himself for speaking so freely.

  Haley was silent for several minutes before she replied. “Okay,” she agreed at last. “I’ll go back. You get your proof, then you come get me. Understood? No delays. I don’t want to sit around wondering what happened to you.”

  “I will,” he said, giving her a fierce stare, hoping it conveyed more than just the confusion he was feeling at himself.

  Not that Kincaid had any idea what he wanted to convey to her. Everything was a mess, and as soon as he went in there and got Krawll, he planned on straightening it out. Starting with that traitorous asshole.

  “Come get me,” Haley replied, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “Promise me.”

  “I promise,” he said, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed her face and kissed her hard.

  They broke apart and Haley sucked in a breath. “You had better come back to me after that,” she stated emphatically, then ducked out of the SUV.

  Kincaid spared one final thought of her, of how much he approved of her, then he put Haley out of his mind. It was time to start putting his life back together. He waited for her to go around the corner, then he left the SUV, pausing to properly stretch his body after sitting still for so long, and to grab one other thing.

  Then he started across the street, ignoring the traffic as it came to a halt, horns blaring at him. It didn’t matter if that alerted the occupants inside to his approach. There was nothing Krawll could do to escape him now.

  Kincaid walked up to the front door, and then simply walked through it, not bothering to open it. Wooden splinters and glass shattered everywhere as he came in like a wrecking ball. Patrons shouted, stood up, and those closest to the door scattered like fish when a rock is tossed into their pond.

  He scanned the seating area, but there was no sign of either of them, not that it surprised him. Turning to a terrified employee, he growled in his darkest, most threatening voice. “Where are the private rooms?”

  Hand shaking, the hostess pointed to a door in the back that blended well with the wall. “There. Through there. Up the stairs.”

  “Thank you,” he said, starting forward.

  People hurriedly got out of his way as he approached the door. He was about to violently kick it in when he realized there could be innocent staff back there. So instead, he tore it off the hinges and dropped it behind him, entering like a demon freshly released from hell.

  The commotion from the next story told him they were aware of his presence, but he didn’t care. He didn’t stop. He took the stairs, kicked in the door, and raised the camera in his hand, snapping pictures rapidly of all the occupants. Krawll. Laurent. Melanie Girard. Together, in the same room.

  “Say cheese, motherfuckers!” he shouted happily, yanking the memory card from the unit and shoving it in a back pocket, even as he tossed the camera at Laurent to keep him distracted.

  Krawll came at him wildly, but Kincaid was ready. He’d taken a measure of the man during their trials and found him to be wanting. Twisting to the side, he snap-kicked out, taking Krawll just below the knee and sending him spinning to the ground.

  “What do you think you’re doing!” Laurent bellowed. “You cannot come in here.”

  Kincaid snapped up a piece of the door and in the blink of an eye had the sharpened edge against Laurent’s throat. “If you test me one more time, I will shove this so far into your jaw you’ll look like a tootsie-pop. Understood?”

  The terrified Canis lord nodded frantically and backed away as Kincaid turned to deal with Krawll. “As for you, you won’t be so lucky. You’re going to face justice before the Queen, and I will gladly play the role of executioner,” he snarled, meeting the wild charge from the traitorous bear shifter.

  The two went down in a crash, Melanie taking that moment to escape, leaving her mate cowering in the corner. Kincaid drove an elbow into Krawll’s side, taking a knee to his upper leg in return. Plunging his hand into the floor, he ripped up a piece of the hardwood and stabbe
d it into Krawll’s calf.

  Ignoring the splinters in his own hand, he made a fist out of it and drove it into Krawll’s face. The impact sent pain lancing up his arm, but it also drove some of the giant pieces of wood deep into Krawll’s face. One of them even gouged the massive vein in his forehead and blood started pouring from the wound.

  Kincaid rolled free and the two of them got to their feet, thick red blood flowing freely down the right side of Krawll’s face, blinding him even as he tried to wipe it away. Kincaid came close, ducked and went at the blind side, hitting him hard in the ribs. At least one cracked under the blow.

  The slightly smaller shifter doubled over in pain, only to receive Kincaid’s shoulder to his jaw as he drove upward. Teeth clacked, several breaking, and Krawll’s eyes rolled back into his head as he fell backward in slow motion.

  “Timberrrrr!” Kincaid shouted, giving him a lazy push in the forehead.

  Krawll hit the ground limply, out cold from the brutal impact.

  Kincaid took a moment to savor his victory, then grabbed the unconscious Ursa traitor and tossed him over his shoulder with a grunt.

  “You’ll pay for this!” the Canis lord shrilled.

  Kincaid looked over at him. “I didn’t touch you. But I still could. Are you sure now is the best time to start acting tough?”

  The man stood up, brushing himself off, for once acting like a shifter. Now that the fighting’s over.

  “You can’t do anything to me. Do you know who I am?”

  “That’s the only reason you’re not a corpse on the floor,” Kincaid snarled.

  “You’ll regret this.”

  “I doubt it,” he spat, turning toward the exit.

  It was time to go home.

  To end this.

  31

  Without Kincaid, the safehouse felt cold and unwelcoming. Even as she put her weight into the steel panel, sliding it closed to block the stairs, the room began to close around her. There were no windows, nothing to let daylight in. Gloomy and a little dank, despite the attempts to make it feel light and airy with bright colors and furnishings, it did little to help her mood.

  Not that she was feeling depressed. Dismayed at the way her situation had become, worried over what her employees were thinking about her absence, those were emotions she should be feeling.

  Should be.

  To an extent she was, it was not like they didn’t exist. The problem was, they weren’t her priority. Not even close. In fact, they were shoved far to the back, her brain creating space for her to worry and fret over something else.

  Kincaid.

  Wandering over to the cupboard, she started rummaging through it. “Why the hell couldn’t he stock this place with some booze? Wine. Red wine. That would be perfect,” she muttered to herself, continuing the search even though she knew it was pointless, that alcohol was not on the list of things a safehouse needed.

  I should have stopped and gotten some.

  But Kincaid had been explicit in his orders that she go right back to the basement. Normally, Haley detested when someone tried to order her around, but in this situation, she’d been forced to agree with him. This was the smart choice, the one that would keep her safe and out of harm’s way.

  She didn’t like it, and she liked the way he was going to resolve this situation even less, but this wasn’t her world, and she needed to remember that. They did their business differently than anything she was used to. Violence wasn’t a last resort with them, it was the first choice.

  They’re more like their wild cousins than they like to admit.

  He was going to be fine, she told herself again. And again. Kincaid had taken down Krawll once already in combat, and she had every confidence he would do it again. He would defeat the man, prove that he was being framed, and then she could leave this stupid place and go back to her life.

  Her normal, boring life. One that had been devoid of a lot of things. It hadn’t been a pleasant revelation, but it was hard to deny it.

  “I have no life.” She ground the words out, forcing herself to say them aloud, to admit the truth of them.

  All she had was her job. It paid well, and she was wealthy enough that if she didn’t spend recklessly, she’d never need to work another day in her life. Money wasn’t why she’d gotten into the profession in the first place—not this sort of wealth at least. Now it was all she had.

  There were no friends. No pets. No activities, hobbies or sports that she was involved with. She did no volunteering. Most of all though, she didn’t have someone to care for. To care for her. To call her out on her lack of socializing.

  More than once she’d turned it aside. Even Danielle at work had tried several times to get her to come out, to have a drink or two with the rest of the office, but she’d always declined, either staying late or going home to be by herself. She’d used the reasoning that as the boss, she shouldn’t be socializing with her employees, but with such a small staff, did it really matter?

  Maybe I should have taken Danielle up on that offer. She always seemed keen to be friends.

  Of course, she might not have her job for much longer. If things didn’t work out, a reality she had to be prepared for, Haley would find herself, and her team, unemployed. They were all good at what they did, and she knew they would get other opportunities elsewhere. But they were her team and she didn’t want to give them up.

  Just like she didn’t want to give Kincaid up. For the first time in longer than she cared to admit, even to herself, something in her life mattered to her more than her career. She made her way over to the couch and all but dropped into it as the bombshell exploded in front of her.

  She cared for Kincaid. Not just lusted after his body, or his skills in bed, both of which were appreciated, but for the man he was. A good man. An honorable man. Perhaps a bit too prone to outbreaks of violence, but everyone has their faults. As long as he never turned it on her—where she knew instinctively, somehow, that he wasn’t that type of man—she would overlook it.

  “After all, it’s not like I don’t have a few faults of my own,” she admitted to the room.

  All of this was too much for her to handle on her own. Haley found herself wishing she could reach out to someone to talk it over, to confess, to get their opinion on it all. She couldn’t tell them about the shifters, and the magic, and the vampires, and the dragons. Because who in their right mind would actually believe all that…

  Still…

  Glancing over at the landline, a nearly ancient artifact by today’s technology, she worked her mouth back and forth. Who would she call? Who would pick up and be willing to talk to her, to listen?

  The only people she really had talked to in the past six months were the people at her office.

  Danielle would listen. She’d be happy you reached out to her. I think she worries about you.

  Nervously, she shuffled to the end of the couch and picked up the receiver, listening to the dialtone at the other end.

  “Grow a spine. At a minimum you should let them know you’re okay so they don’t file a missing persons report or something.”

  Her fingers were already moving across the pad, dialing the number to the office. She was doing this. She was really doing it.

  “House Accounting, Graham speaking,” a nasally male voice said.

  “Hi Graham, it’s Haley. Is Danielle there?”

  “Haley! It’s good to hear from you. Yes, she’s here, let me tell her.”

  The phone beeped as he put her on hold, and Haley’s hand began to shake. What would she say? How should she bring it up? Just launch into it, or start small and work her way up?

  She stood up, the corded phone—how old is this damn thing?!—yanking the base off the table until it hung several inches above it. Haley sat back down abruptly, stuck to the couch, wishing her cell phone was with her, and not somewhere back in Ursidae Manor out of reach.

  Just then, Danielle picked up.

  “Haley? Haley, are you okay?”


  “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she said, brushing aside the concerns. “I just had something come up.”

  There was a pause. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Haley, but, uh, you never have anything come up. Not even sickness. Are you sure it’s okay?”

  She smiled at the outspokenness. “I appreciate your concern, but I promise you, I’m okay.”

  “Alright.” Danielle didn’t sound like she believed a word Haley was saying. “What do you need then?”

  Now it was Haley’s turn to hesitate, to answer with an uncertainty that wasn’t typical to her. “I need to...to talk to you. About what’s come up.” She paused briefly, then continued in a rush. “Is that okay? If you’re busy I can totally call back, it’s no big deal really, I don’t want to interrupt whatever you’re doing, so just tell me if you’re not able to talk. I—”

  “Haley.”

  “Yes?” she replied, feeling sheepish. She’d been babbling, and it was obvious.

  “What do you need to talk about?” Danielle had lowered her voice, talking to her like they were conspirators of some sort of plot. “Is it…a boy?”

  “Maybe?”

  There was some sort of frantic muffled squealing from the other end, then Danielle cleared her voice. “Give me one moment, I’m going to transfer to your office.”

  The line beeped to indicate she’d been put on hold and Haley sagged into the couch. What the hell was she supposed to say next?

  “Okay!” Danielle came back a hot second later. “Tell me everything!”

  “Did you just run to my office?” Haley asked, listening to the mild shortness of breath through the receiver.

  “No time for that. Details. I’ve been waiting for this day for—what’s it been, four years since you hired me?” Danielle said, ignoring the question.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Oh, my God, yes! And I’m excited you’re finally opening up. So, who is it? Pleeeasseee tell me it’s the hottie you brought into the office the other morning? Please.”

  “Um.” The enthusiasm and instant ability to act like they were friends had blindsided Haley. She’d been prepared for some small talk and a slow burn sort of conversation. Instead, Danielle was leaping in head-first, like she’d been waiting for this to happen.