Of course, Eve wouldn’t reject him for being Fae. He glanced at her once again. She was Fae as well. Though that didn’t necessarily mean she was comfortable with the idea that he’d ‘been in her head’ the other night and now knew exactly how she’d felt during their sexual encounter. Last night he’d managed, barely, to keep him mental wall in place but that first time…
He cleared his throat and flicked another glance her way. “About the other night…”
“Rafe, I really don’t think this is the time.” Her chin rose slightly, but Rafe noticed how her fingers tightened. Yep, she was definitely bothered by it.
“Avoidance isn’t healthy you know.”
“I’m not avoiding anything. Just postponing.”
“One and the same.”
“Not at all.”
“Eve—” He glanced her way again.
“Look out!”
Something streaked across the road right in front of them. He slammed on the brakes and the wheels skidded, the vehicle careening wildly from side to side on the loose gravel as he struggled to keep control. In a matter of seconds the truck slid to a stop, leaning at an odd angle, two wheels off the road. Rafe put the vehicle into park. His heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through his system, and there was enough anger flaring in his gut that he had to struggle to maintain control and not shift into his wolf form. He turned to look at Eve.
“Are you okay?”
Eve nodded, her face pale, her hands shaking as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “It was that wolf again.”
“Dammit, Damien!” The curse slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
“Damien?” Eve turned her head and glared at him. “How is it his fault? It’s the wolf that nearly ran us off the road.”
“I mean…” His thoughts raced as he tried to come up with an answer. “If he hadn’t needed supplies we wouldn’t be on the road right now.” It was a lame excuse and she let him know it.
Twisting around in her seat, Eve faced him with eyes flashing and flushed cheeks. If he’d been in any doubt as to how she was feeling, her tone of voice made it perfectly clear; a scalpel had nothing on it for sharpness. “There you go again picking on Damien! What is it with the two of you? Every time he’s mentioned you’re bad mouthing him, warning him away, warning me away. Give the man a break. His wife died you know!”
“I’m well aware of that fact, but—”
“And it’s your own fault you had to slam on the brakes. If you’d been watching the road, you would have seen the wolf coming.” She folded her arms and turned with a flounce, staring straight ahead.
“My fault?” He blinked, trying to follow her logic.
“Can’t you drive and talk at the same time?” She continued to stare out the window, not even sparing him a sideways glance.
“Yes, I can drive and talk at the same time. It’s just that I…” His voice trailed off and he exhaled loudly. This was a ridiculous and pointless argument. As calmly as possible he turned in his seat and put the truck into drive. “The near miss and our earlier discussion seem to have shaken us both up. We’ll discuss this when we’re both calmer.”
Eve sniffed and wiggled closer to the door, increasing the distance between them.
Rafe barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes, and finished the journey in silence. The state of his relationship with Eve would have to be put on the backburner for the moment; Damien was a bigger concern. Had running across the road been a stupid stunt or an act of aggression? And aggression towards whom?
He was becoming more convinced that Damien was dangerously obsessed with Eve, perhaps somehow viewing her as a replacement for the mate he’d lost. The latent remains of Damien’s blood bond might even pick up on Eve’s empathic abilities, causing him to erroneously feel there was a connection between them. The man could be blacking out, too; his wolf grabbing complete control and pushing his human side so far back that Damien wasn’t even aware of what he was doing.
When they pulled into the parking area by the house, Damien was waiting on the front steps. Eve exited the truck without a word, walked over to the porch and began a conversation with the man. Rafe clenched his teeth, furious at her blatant defiance, yet could he blame her? She only had his word that Damien was a danger, and the other man could be devilishly charming when he chose.
Rafe shook his head. This had gone on long enough. He was calling Reno today to come and collect Damien, or he was taking matters into his own hands. An ultimatum to leave or have Rogue Retrieval called would be Damien’s choice.
Slamming the truck door with total disregard for its aged state, he stalked over to where Eve stood. She barely glanced at him when he stopped beside her.
“I’m going into town with Damien.” She made the announcement without even looking at him. A silent ‘so there’ was definitely tacked onto the end of her statement.
Rafe stiffened, the Alpha side of him responding to her challenge. He clenched his jaw and tried to satisfy himself by giving Damien a glaring look.
The man smirked. “She wants to go.”
“Too bad. She’s not going anywhere with you.” He narrowed his eyes in warning.
“She is doing whatever she damn well pleases.” Eve retorted.
“No, you’re not.” He tossed the keys at Damien and took her by the arm. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.
“Let. Me. Go!” She pulled back again, but was no match for him.
“The lady wants you to let her go.” Damien stepped forward, anger sparking in his eye. It was easy to see his wolf was near the surface, eager for a confrontation.
Rafe hesitated, all too aware that Eve was watching. He was seething inside, a fight with Damien was quite to his taste, but circumstances dictated a different approach. After a moment’s hesitation he released her arm. “I’ll let go, but she’s not getting in the truck with you.”
“And who’s going to stop me?” Eve planted her hands on her hips.
“Me. It’s my truck. I say who rides in it.” He stared at her steadily. Her mouth opened and then snapped shut.
“Fine, then. I’m going for a walk.” And with that she pivoted and stormed off.
Rafe watched her go. She thought she was defying him, but he knew she was safe; that the rogue was right here in front of him. However, what the hell was running through her mind right now, he had no idea. Maybe she wasn’t even thinking at all since, to the best of her knowledge, a dangerous wolf was still lurking out there. Well, he’d let her go for a while, and then fetch her back if she didn’t come to her senses on her own.
He turned to face Damien and spoke through clenched jaws. “Don’t you ever do that again. I said Eve’s off limits.”
“You haven’t marked her, so she’s fair game.” Damien’s lip curled in a sneer.
Rafe growled, his temper flaring. He could feel his wolf pushing to be free, muttering its discontent.
We need to deal with this rogue. He’s not like the others we help. He’s invaded our territory and abused our goodwill. We allowed him to stay when he had nowhere else, and this is how he repays us? The female isn’t for him!
He agreed with his wolf wholeheartedly, and his frustration spilled over into his words. “Fair game for what? Are you thinking of replacing your dead mate with her?” It was a low blow; he regretted it the moment he spoke, yet Damien was pushing him, spoiling for a fight. After a week of pussy-footing around everyone, his own store of diplomacy was running low.
Damien’s eyes widened and then narrowed, his features clouding with rage, his jaw clenched. “You bastard.”
The look Damien gave him would have had a lesser man dropping dead on the spot. Rafe tensed his muscles, poised and ready for the other man to strike out. Indeed the air around them began to shimmer as if he were going to shift and fight in his wolf form. Then, as if some inner voice grabbed his attention, Damien paused, spun on his heel and stalked to the truck, slamming the door as he climbed in.
Damien drove with total disregard for his own safety. In fact, if he managed to crash the truck and kill himself, it would be all for the better. Who the hell did Rafe think he was making a comment like that? Of course Eve wasn’t a replacement for Beth. She was just…
He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. How he felt about Eve was too difficult to explain. She was like Beth, hauntingly so.
Our blood bond stirs in her presence. His inner wolf deigned to speak to him. It hummed in approval as it recalled what it had been like to have a mate, to be connected to another living creature in such a personal way. For a moment the animosity between wolf and man was forgotten as they shared a common memory.
He and Beth had gone for a drive with no particular destination in mind. They’d travelled back roads, explored antique shops and eventually ended up in a quiet meadow with a pond. Pulling the picnic lunch they’d packed from the backseat, he’d taken her by the hand and walked towards the shade of a nearby tree. The late summer sun had made the afternoon warm and bees had buzzed lazily about, the sweet smell of dried grass drifting upward as they’d made to their destination.
He’d spread out a blanket to sit on and Beth unpacked their simple meal; cheese and fresh rolls, fruit and wine. Of course, the meal had been soon forgotten. Newly mated, the need for her had been predominant in his mind.
“Damien,” she’d giggled as he’d pushed her back on the blanket. “What about the food?”
“I’ve a different sort of hunger.” He’d sat on his heels and grasped the hem of her sundress, easing it up as he grinned down at her.
“But what if someone comes by?” She pushed ineffectively at his hands as he stripped her bare.
“No one ever comes down this road.” He’d leaned forward, brushing his nose over her stomach then up between her breasts. She’d smelled of flowers and sunshine and him. His mate, his bite mark on her neck, his scent mixed with hers.
His wolf had rumbled in approval while urging him to claim her yet again. He’d listened to his inner wolf, their minds of one accord. Beth was coming into heat and they were eager to start a family…
A rabbit bolted across the road and Damien swore, jerking the wheel as reality crashed down around him, erasing the bittersweet memory. His wolf muttered its discontent and faded into the background once again. It wanted nothing to do with the scheme he was involved in.
Too bad, but he couldn’t allow Eve to be anything more than a job. Something bigger was taking place here, something that would help avenge Beth’s death. Yes, there could be collateral damage; he’d always known that and tried to accept it as a necessary evil. This wasn’t the time to start having second thoughts.
A sharp turn required his attention for a moment, but as soon as it was safely navigated, he was lost in thought again. What was wrong with him? He was goading McRae instead of lying low. And just now, he’d have shifted and gone for the man’s jugular, if his wolf would have cooperated. Hell, even his wolf was fucked up. It had wanted to fight McRae but wouldn’t respond to a command unless it was in the mood to do so.
A state of cold war existed with his wolf at the moment. It disapproved of him, his current path, his past association with Lycan Link. The beast was of the opinion that it should be in charge and making all the decisions, that the loss of their mate was somehow his fault. His throat tightened at the thought. Maybe the animal was right. And yet, hadn’t he’d tried that route? For months he’d hidden, letting the creature have full rein, but the cold, empty feeling had persisted. At least now he was doing something, trying to make those responsible pay. However, wresting control back from the wolf wasn’t easy. It balked and pouted, contradicted and challenged…
Damien rubbed his eyes, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. God, he was tired. He had no memory of sleeping. But he must have, for morning had dawned and he’d found himself sitting in a chair slumped over the kitchen table. Another blackout; what was that a sign of? Were those the times his wolf gained control? Or had exhaustion simply dulled his memory? Playing both sides of the field was wearing.
The main road came into view, and he slowed his speed, turning on to the highway towards town. Traffic was light, but he drove carefully. No point in ruining someone else’s life. He had enough on his conscience now, and would likely have more before this was all over.
A small sign appeared on the side of the road, happily welcoming him to Grassy Hills. A few neat houses and several stores lined the street, citizens went about their business. No one gave more than a passing glance to him as he made his way through town. The two traffic lights barely slowed his progress and the lumber yard soon came into view. He’d get the supplies needed for the porch and then stop at the liquor store. There was still some money in his pocket, and while human strength whiskey wouldn’t get him drunk, it would help numb him to the mess he was in.
And maybe, if there was any mercy in the world, he’d get the signal he’d been waiting for and be finished with this once and for all. Strange how revenge wasn’t as sweet as he’d been promised it would be.
Chapter 24
Reno waited, hands behind his back, as the head guard keyed in the numbers that would open the cell door. There was a faint chime, announcing the correct sequence had been entered, and then the steel panel slid open.
“Wait in the hallway.” Reno raised an eyebrow when the guard would have protested. The man hesitated and then nodded, taking a stance up directly across from the open entrance way. Four other armed guards flanked him, each staring straight ahead, expressionless yet ready to act if the prisoner inside should somehow dare to use this opportunity to attempt an escape.
“Company? Now who could be calling at this hour?” The smooth tones of Victor Hadsund floated out of the solitary confinement cell, and Reno took a deep, calming breath before stepping into the small enclosure. He hadn’t set eyes on the man in over a year, not since the final trial date when he’d been sentenced to life in confinement for treason. Now he eyed the dethroned Alpha lounging on the small cot with curiosity.
Confinement didn’t suit Victor. His face was lined, his colouring poor. Strands of silver showed among his blond hair, while his ill-fitting clothing revealed his exercise regime wasn’t sufficient to maintain optimum muscle tone. Despite that, the man still had the same arrogant tilt to his chin, his thin lips formed into a slight sneer, and the light of challenge gleamed in his pale blue eyes.
The reports had been accurate. Despite having nearly died after being buried under the collapsed conveyor, Victor’s spirit wasn’t broken, nor was he showing any signs of remorse or change in conviction. Reno wouldn’t have believed the reports even if they’d said otherwise.
The two men eyed each other before finally Victor huffed in amusement. “A social call? Come to discuss the good old days?”
Reno didn’t answer, merely snagging the leg of a chair with his foot and pulling it closer. Turning the seat around, he sat down, folded his arms on the backrest, and stared at the man across the room.
Victor slowly sat up, swinging his legs to the floor, and stretching them out in front of him. He casually crossed his ankles. “So talkative,” he mocked. “I still can’t imagine what Brandi saw in you. Mind you, she wasn’t that clever, though definitely a looker.” Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone, he continued. “Is she as good a fuck as I imagined her to be?”
A snarl ripped from Reno’s throat and he surged to his feet, the chair tipping over with a loud clatter. Immediately, the guards were at the door.
“Everything all right, sir?”
Reno exhaled loudly and nodded. His jaw was so tightly clenched he’d be surprised if he hadn’t cracked a molar. “Everything is fine. Return to your post.”
The guard eyed how Reno was flexing his fingers, and then looked at Victor who was laughing softly. “If you say so,
sir.”
When the man left the room, Victor grinned. “I knew you couldn’t be as cool as you were trying to act. The great Reno Smith was never known for his calm demeanour.”
“If you so much as speak Brandi’s name again, I’ll rip your throat out.”
“Tsk, tsk, Reno. Is that any way to gain my cooperation? I assume you must want something if you went to all the trouble to arrange a meeting.”
Reno bent and righted the chair, never taking his eyes off of Victor. Once he was seated again, he began to explain his purpose. “You’re still involved with the Purists.”
Victor held out his hands. “But how? I’m confined within these four walls except for exercise periods. I spend my days reading and contemplating repentance.”
“It wasn’t a question. I know you have your sources, and at this moment I don’t really care who or what they are. All I want is information.”
Dropping his innocent act, Victor shrugged. “Which I may or may not choose to share.” He brushed at his pants as if removing a speck of dust.
Reno simply stared.
Victor finally slid a sideways glance towards his visitor. “Information about what?”
“The Fae. Some group is trying to eliminate them. Sound familiar?”
“You believe the Purists are behind this?”
“It would seem to match your agenda.”
“Not really. I’m concerned with the purity of Lycan blood. Annoying as the Fae are, I’ve never been concerned with them unless they mated with a Lycan. And even then, at least they’re from the gods.” He gave a sniff. “It’s a slight step up from human filth contaminating the blood line.”
Reno considered what he’d just heard. “You’ve never been concerned… But what about the organization as a whole?”
“That’s hard to say. The Purist organization circles the globe. Some branches might concern themselves with the distinction between shifters and non-shifters.” Victor stared down at his hand and checked his fingernails. His tone struck Reno as being overly casual. The man knew something.
Betrayed: Days of the Rogue Page 20