Furever Loyal

by Riley Storm

  “We do?” Kvoss asked at last.

  “Of course. You see, this is Melanie Girard. Related to Samuel Girard. Our loveable puppy dog here—Laurent—when he found out Samuel was dead, went after the killer. Revenge, of course. He probably swore a blood oath to Melanie or something that he would avenge her brother’s death, in the hopes she might love him more.” Kincaid shuddered. “Though I don’t know how she could love such a pathetic excuse for a man.”

  “How is any of this proof?” Kvoss asked. “I already know all this information.”

  Kincaid reached up and flicked a finger against Kvoss’ forehead before the man could react. “Because they came after me. I was the one they set out to get revenge on, therefore I must have been the one who killed Samuel, don’t you see?”

  “No,” Kvoss said. “They just didn’t know I was there.”

  Kincaid sighed. “I’m done with this. I’m done playing games.” He lunged into the circle of light, drove his fist down into Laurent’s knee and snarled into his ear. “Where is Haley?”

  Laurent screamed with pain behind his gag, the muffled sound dissipating in the vast emptiness of the warehouse. But he didn’t start speaking. His eyes were wide and sweat rolled down his temple in nearly a constant stream.

  “Why are you so pathetic?” Kincaid asked. “You’re so terrified, yet you won’t give up her location? If you give it up, there’s a chance I’ll let you go. Not good,” he admitted casually, “but there’s no chance if you keep holding back.”

  Laurent was shaking now. He started blubbering, trying to speak through the rope gag.

  “If I take this out,” Kincaid said harshly, “you are going to tell me where Haley is. No begging for your life, no prostrating yourself. You will simply tell me where she is, then I will put it back in. Anything else, and I’ll borrow one of Kvoss’ knives and cut something off that doesn’t regrow. Understood?”

  Laurent hesitated, his eyes darting to the left, where Melanie sat, similarly tied up and gagged.

  Good. Fear for her safety too. If Laurent thought that Kincaid was going to kill her as well, then it would make him even more compliant, he hoped. Truthfully, Kincaid wasn’t sure he had that in him. Melanie was not of the blood, she was just a human mated to a shifter.

  Reaching out, he grabbed the gag. “Nod if you understand me, Laurent.”

  It was tough to make out through his overall trembling, but he was fairly positive Laurent nodded. So he pulled the gag out.

  “Speak.”

  Waiting patiently, he urged himself not to lose his temper. The man was giving him what he needed most, the location where his mate was being held. Anything other than that, including his burning desire to separate Laurent’s head from his body, were secondary concerns. Kincaid needed to stay on track. Laurent took several weeping breaths, but then he looked up at Kincaid and seemed to be gathering his words.

  That was when Melanie went berserk. She started thrashing in her chair, eyes red with madness as she reached out for Laurent. The sheer intensity of her movements managed to dislodge the gag from her mouth as she jerked her head back and forth over and over again. The instant it slipped free, she started to scream.

  “If you say a damn word, I’ll slice your balls off and feed them to you, you pathetic sack of shit! Keep your mouth closed if you know what’s good for you!”

  She went on and on, screaming profanities and insults in a tirade that had Kincaid genuinely feeling sorry for the man.

  “Why do you put up with this?” he asked softly as Kvoss finally came forward and shoved the gag back into place.

  That didn’t stop Melanie. She continued to scream at him through the muffle. The words made no sense, but the gist of it was quite clear.

  “You know,” he said, turning to Kvoss, ignoring Laurent for the time being. “I have to admit something. I did not see this coming. I thought she was just this normal human, mated to a scumbag piece of shit like him.”

  Kvoss nodded. “It is…unexpected.”

  “I thought he came after me for Samuel’s death out of family obligations, but now I’m getting the feeling he was forced to do it.”

  The Assassin nodded his agreement.

  “Well, are you going to tell us?” Kincaid asked, turning his attention back to Laurent.

  Whatever courage the man may have once had, the ceaseless screaming of Melanie had stripped it away from him at some point, likely years prior. He was more afraid of Melanie than of Kincaid. Yet despite all that, he seemed to realize that it was all over now. There was no going back.

  “I’m sorry,” Laurent said quietly, surprising Kincaid yet again. He’d been expecting silence. “I actually do not know. That’s all I was going to tell you. She was the one who took her. I wasn’t there.”

  Kincaid’s eyebrows rose again at that information. His gaze swung to Melanie, who gave Laurent the most contemptuous of stares as he slumped down into his chair, not looking anywhere but at the ground.

  “Hey,” Kincaid snarled, stepping forward. “Over here. You will tell me where my mate is.” He snatched the gag from her mouth, the rope ripping hair from her head with it.

  “You killed my favorite nephew,” she spat. “I’m not telling you shit.”

  “Your favorite nephew was a rogue mage who had killed half a dozen shifters and nearly eighteen humans across Western Europe, lady. He was an evil prick who needed to die before he did something even worse.” Kincaid leaned in close. “Now tell me where my mate is.”

  “Go to hell. Why would I give up my only leverage? Let me out of here, and then I’ll tell you where you can find her, once I’m good and safe.”

  Kincaid snorted softly. “No, I don’t think that will be happening.”

  “Alright then.” Melanie sat back in her chair, looking smug and confident that Kincaid wasn’t going to be able to force her to give him what he so desperately needed.

  Balling his hand up into a fist, he prepared to do just that. This was Haley he was talking about. His mate was more important than this stuck-up bitch. Kincaid would do anything for her. Including setting aside his moral code.

  “You asked for it,” he snarled, hauling back on his arm.

  Melanie just smiled. “We’ll see. You haven’t hit me yet.”

  He tried to throw his punch, but his arm didn’t respond. Kincaid had to fight himself, to push through a barrier he’d always told himself he wouldn’t cross. All he had to do was hit her knee and it would shatter. Ligaments would rip and the pain would begin. Kincaid doubted she would be able to withstand more than one blow. Her confidence was rooted in his ability to actually deliver that first strike.

  And the longer he hesitated, the more he realized she was right. Growling angrily, he thought of nothing but Haley. Of her gentle nature, her beautiful curved features and long reddish-brown hair. Most importantly, he looked into her eyes, asking those beautiful lightly-tinged brown orbs for permission. To do this for her.

  To his surprise, Kaelyn reached out to him, resting a hand on his upraised arm.

  “Kincaid,” she said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do this. Let me.”

  He blinked in confusion, but the vision in front of him was shattered as Kaelyn stepped into view. Without waiting for his permission, the Queen of High House Ursa reached down on either side of Melanie, grasped the chair and ripped it free of the bolts that held it to the floor.

  Kincaid watched with amused awe as the chair sailed across the circle of light and slammed onto its back somewhere out in the darkness. Metal screeched on pavement and sparks flew as the chair slid to a halt.

  Kaelyn stalked forward, and a moment later, a bone snapped. Melanie’s shrill cry filled the air. The impact must have knocked her gag aside.

  “Where is she!?” Kaelyn bellowed.

  Walking forward, Kincaid’s sharp eyes picked out Kaelyn as she lifted Melanie’s chair and Melanie from the floor by her neck, giving her a shake. Then she dropped the woman. Metal chair legs folded
and the chair tilted to the side, slamming the tied-up woman into the ground.

  Her head rebounded off the concrete hard enough to make Kincaid wince, but frankly, he didn’t care anymore. So he stayed quiet and watched.

  All he wanted was his mate.

  36

  The fury at her treatment at the hands of the Canis faded slowly from Haley’s mind. It was hours before she stopped thinking of getting back at them, and at Melanie in particular.

  She was the last person Haley had expected to see when the bed was flipped over by one of her lackeys. All along, she’d thought that Laurent Canis was after her. After all, he was the one who had orchestrated it all. The confidence with which Melanie acted, however, had made her wonder just who had the real power in that relationship?

  They hadn’t bothered knocking her unconscious or anything of the sort, but that hadn’t mattered. It was dark outside when they’d taken her and, combined with the tinted windows of the car they’d stuffed her into, Haley had exactly zero idea of her current location. It smelled industrial, so she figured a warehouse or a factory of some sort.

  Dust was in the air as well, but an abandoned warehouse or factory wasn’t exactly something Plymouth Falls was lacking. There were many options. Too many.

  After her anger fled and she realized the scope of her predicament, Haley began to panic. She was tied up, and, by all accounts, alone. There was no food, no water, and if they forgot about her, she would die in a matter of days. They’d even taped her mouth shut so she couldn’t scream for help.

  The situation was not good. That was the only rating she could apply to it. Not hopeless, because, somewhere out there, Kincaid was still on the loose, and she knew that as soon as he found out she was missing, he would come after her.

  He’s going to raise hell, is what he’s going to do. Nothing is going to stop him from coming to your rescue.

  Haley was hoping that was the case, but Kincaid had never really expressed such fierce sentiment about her. Not to her at least. He’d made it clear that he cared. The hatred she knew he must have felt during their first meeting when she’d essentially caused all these problems…that had since faded. There was no denying it. Still…what she had talked about with Dani on the phone was a lot different from that. A lot stronger.

  What were the odds that Kincaid felt the same about her? They had to be slim. After all, wouldn’t he have wanted to be with one of his own kind, to create more shifters? That was the biggest hiccup in Haley’s head, one she couldn’t get over. It was also one she hadn’t been able to share with Dani. Haley had to keep this new world she’d been exposed to a secret, and so—despite the positive encouragement from Dani—she’d known that on another level at least, her relationship with Kincaid if it could even be called that, would never last.

  Eventually, she would be pushed aside, and Haley would be forced to watch as Kincaid found someone else, someone he could reproduce with. It would have to happen. His kind was not very plentiful, and he owed it to his race not to be with her when she couldn’t bear the type of children he needed, children that he probably wanted. To think that Kincaid wouldn’t be as driven to come after her, to come save her…The dark thoughts fed into the panic she was already feeling, amplifying it.

  The world began to shrink around her, the darkness closing in, wrapping tight. It became hard to breathe. Haley struggled against her bonds, straining to free herself, but they didn’t come loose. There was no magical parting as she was given superhuman strength to free herself. Instead, she grew lightheaded and, eventually, the world went completely dark as she passed out.

  ***

  An unknown amount of time later, she came to, her neck aching from being stretched while slumping forward.

  Slowly, Haley lifted it, resting her skull against the back of the chair she was tied to and giving her screaming muscles a break.

  “Note to self,” she said, deciding that thinking in her head wasn’t helping. “Panicking doesn’t work.”

  She immediately found that sound helped her focus. It made her remember she was still alive, and that there was no big boogeyman waiting in the dark for her. In fact, there was nobody waiting for her. If Haley was going to escape, she was going to have to do it on her own. Kincaid may or may not come for her, she couldn’t be sure, but until he showed up, Haley wasn’t going to wait around helplessly.

  “Nobody is going to help me if I don’t help myself,” she said firmly.

  There was still no light, no window with an indication of what time it might be outside.

  “Hello!” she shouted.

  The sound carried for a way but stopped much shorter than she expected if it was a warehouse. Either she had been wrong about that, or she was in some sort of office near a factory floor. Maybe a walled-off partition. It felt larger than an office.

  Nobody responded to her shout, but she knew that didn’t mean a thing. A dozen guards could be just out of her hearing range and she would never know of their presence until it was too late.

  Doesn’t matter. If they are present, I’m screwed no matter what. All I can do is operate under the assumption I’m alone. Don’t be helpless. What would Kincaid do in this situation?

  “He’d flex and snap the ropes,” she muttered. That wasn’t an option to her though. Was it?

  Carefully, slowly, she tested the bonds that held her hands behind her back. They didn’t part, but then again, that was never realistic to expect. She pulled her elbows apart, trying to stretch them, creating a picture in her head of how she was tied up.

  Ropes under her armpit, over her hips and at her ankles kept her tied to the chair itself, while her arms were pulled back tightly until they were crossed, tied at the wrist. They were tight, but whoever had tied the ropes had tied them farther up her arms, instead of around both wrists. Haley found that by pulling her arms apart, she could force the ropes closer to the wrists.

  It hurt. She could feel skin chafing itself raw, but bit by bit she was gaining more slack. Not much, but it might be enough for her to slip free. Ten minutes passed, and her skin grew irritated and every breath caused pain as her arms tightened against the bonds. After twenty minutes, she could feel it grow warm with heat. After thirty, it became wet, and the air gained a hint of iron to it. She’d drawn blood.

  A minute or two later, and the ropes slipped down to her wrist. Loosely. The blood had been just what she’d needed. Haley worked herself free from the limp bonds as fast as she could. Even with the extra slack, she still needed to pull one hand free, without re-tightening them. It took her another minute, but she had the time. There was nobody around.

  Finally, the rope fell free, and she brought her arms around, shoulders screaming at the sudden movement after being pinned back for so long. Haley gazed at her tortured wrists, blood welling up and dripping from where she’d worn the skin free.

  Nothing serious, she decided, shocking herself at the cavalier attitude toward such painful injuries. Yet another change in herself that she was experiencing as her worldview widened with each passing day spent with Kincaid.

  The ropes under her armpits weren’t actually secured to the chair for some reason, and they slid up the back of it easily. “Sloppy, Melanie, very sloppy,” she muttered, now free to reach around and undo the knot around her hips and then the ones keeping her ankles to the chair. It was a tedious process, but less than twenty minutes later, she was completely and totally liberated, slowly standing from the metal chair.

  Muscles and ligaments protested, forcing her to move slowly, taking her time as she warmed them back up, preparing them to move. She might be free of the chair, but Haley still had no idea where she was, or what had happened to Kincaid. It was time to get the hell out of there and make a dash for freedom.

  The room was pitch black, which presented the first obstacle. Haley thought about her situation, thinking back over every spy or thriller movie she’d seen where someone was captured. It was an odd thing to do, but that was all she had to go
on. There was also one constant. Every time someone was tied up, they always seemed to be facing the door.

  It’s not like I’ve got anything else to go on.

  Shrugging her shoulders in silent helplessness, Haley found the chair, turned the other direction and then slowly started walking forward, hands out front, moving around in slow circles. She shuffled one foot out in front of her, felt around, then slowly transferred her weight forward and repeated the process.

  “This is more nerve-wracking than being tied up,” she muttered, relying on the sound to help break up her fears. Anything could be out there in the dark, just waiting for her.

  She jumped when her hand finally encountered something solid. A little more touching around showed it to be a wall. She decided to go right, but after five feet or so, she encountered a corner. Reversing her direction, she went left. It paid dividends. Not more than two or three feet from her original position, she found a hinge. Reaching lower, she found another. A door! Moving more confidently in the dark, she found the handle and twisted.

  It didn’t move.

  “Dammit!” she cursed, shaking the locked handle a few more times in frustration.

  An idea came to her. Fumbling around blindly on the wall to the left of the door, her fingers encountered three little plastic switches. Closing her eyes and saying a brief prayer, she flicked the first one.

  Nothing happened.

  Angrily, she flipped the last two light switches in desperation. Although she’d been prepared for nothing to happen, a bulb flickered. It wasn’t above her, but near what she assumed was the back of the room. It was an older fluorescent tube, likely long exhausted of its gas, but there was a bit left. Just enough for it to flicker.

  The strobe-like effect didn’t exactly illuminate the entire room, but it gave her enough to start forming a picture of the place. She was in some sort of office. It was large and only had the one door. Across the back were what she thought at first were mirrors, but after making her way to them, she realized they were windows—overlooking a factory floor.