My heart was stuck in my throat as I watched the mountain growing smaller. The light from the compound was fading, and the sense of dread I’d felt at leaving crept up on me. A hand touched my shoulder, pulling me from my mind, and I turned, finding Toralei watching me with worry burning in her emerald gaze.
She smiled reassuringly as something slammed into the boat, sending us all into the ice-cold water. I gasped, kicking my feet as the water forced me into the rocks. The water hid my screams as I kicked and flailed my arms, peering through the icy depths for Tora. A hand yanked me up, and I was pulled over the edge of a raft.
My entire body trembled, and the coppery tang of blood was thick in the air as I watched Douglas pulling Toralei up from the other side of the raft. Moving into action, I helped him pull her and the two other men out, glancing at the ripped raft we’d been in moments before. It was thrown lifelessly around in the rapids, slamming against a large rock that continually fought to suck the raft below the frozen depths.
It took another hour of battling the raging river before we left the rafts and rushed down the mountainside’s rough terrain. At the bottom were more men, all dressed in high-tech gear, seated on four-wheelers. Douglas caught me before I moved toward one of the men, helping me shed my coat, and replacing it with his larger one.
“The raft they were on flipped. We’ll need to find a cave to let them get dry and warm. We won’t be able to make it far if they end up with hypothermia. Let’s move,” Douglas ordered, nodding to a man on one of the quads, who scooted back for me to ride in front of him.
It took hours of riding through bone-chilling cold before we found a cave to accommodate our group’s size. Douglas had packed thermal clothes, giving us each a set to change. Once we were dry and warmer, we were back on the bikes, riding through the first snow that blanketed the ground.
It took days to reach the Canadian border, and we were given fake passports and identification cards once we arrived. Douglas didn’t stop there, handing us cash and giving us an address where we would be staying. He’d even gotten jobs for us, giving us everything we needed to start over from nothing.
I hugged him, crying against his shoulder as he hugged me back. “Thank you. Thank you, Douglas.”
“Your mother helped me and mine once upon a time, kid. I never got the chance to repay her for that. Now I have. I have saved her daughter and given her a new chance at a life of her choosing. My debt has been repaid,” he announced, standing back as black SUVs pulled up to the side of the road. “You’re braver than you think you are, Braelyn Haralson. May the gods protect you and keep you safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Saint – Three Months Later
I watched Cole Van Helsing climb out of the Blackhawk helicopter, shielding his eyes as he moved toward me, shaking the snow from his heavy coat. Tattooed fingers righted the collar of his jacket, and he smiled upon seeing me.
“Van Helsing,” I announced, running my eyes over the tattoo that covered his brow and his temple to vanish into his hairline.
“Kingsley, pleasure as always,” Cole said in a heavily accented tone that most women would fawn over. “You are causing quite the issue for us. I hope your mate is worth it,” he concluded, nodding at the other helicopters that were coming in as Cole’s took off to refuel.
“She is, and I believe she’s pregnant with my child,” I announced, watching his face pinch with distaste.
“Seems to be in the water lately,” he grumbled. “Someone needs to invent some immortal-proof birth control.”
“You too, huh?” I asked.
“No, not me,” he said in a tone filled with anger. “Rhys is going to be a daddy, but he’s rejected his mate and denounced his child. You could do the same and recall that fucking reward you put on her head.”
“Rhys as a father? I didn’t see that cankerous ass ever finding someone he trusted enough to have his offspring.”
“No one said anything about trust, and she’s a Silversmith.”
My body jerked to a stop, turning to look at Cole with wide eyes as shock rushed through me. I didn’t need to ask to know Rhys wasn’t happy with the predicament. I was old enough and had heard of the war between their bloodlines multiple times. It was a tale of legendary enemies that had fought to destroy each other for decades. At one point, the Van Helsing family gathered a group of immortals to murder the Silversmith line.
“Fuck,” I exclaimed, unable to get much more past my lips.
“Yeah, fuck. Remington is a newborn and isn’t even immortal yet. But she carries Rhys’s child, sure as shit. Lucky prick ended up with her on Beltane. Magic, pretty women, and a fertility festival, well, it doesn’t end in any other outcome than fucked.” I shook my head, thinking Rhys and I had more in common than I thought when it came to the women in our lives.
“Anyway, back to your girl, Kingsley. This million-dollar reward has hunters up in arms. Even the sodden pricks at E.V.I.E. are out hunting for any sign of her. It’s caused the sanctuary to be overrun by out-of-towners, and Rhys is in danger of declining sanctuary to them. As you know, Van Helsings aren’t allowed to do that.” I signaled toward the lodge, and we began to cross the field toward the gates leading up the path. “I should also mention that Carleigh has asked to join the hunt, but she is still awaiting judgment and is not permitted outside of the compound. Given the circumstances, I thought you would want to know.”
“Braelyn is carrying my child, and she’s never been off this mountain until now. She’s alone with her best friend, who we thought was a beta, but we have since learned she is also an alpha. How they ended up paired together, well, who the fuck knows. Our women carry their pregnancies for five to six months, and Braelyn’s out there unprotected, Cole. She’s my fucking mate.”
“So you put a bounty on her head? Why not just track her?” he countered, entering the hall where I’d set up a command room since losing Braelyn’s trail inside the tunnels.
“Encouragement, plus it stated she must be alive and unharmed.” I turned to one of the monitors as the men infiltrated a trafficking ring. I studied the cells, shivering at the memory of being caged in one for entirely too long.
“How many have you freed?” Cole asked, watching the same monitor that showed Xari and Xavier entering the screen with their changeling team spread out behind them.
“Too fucking many, and yet never enough. Not until we’ve freed every one of them from that life,” I muttered, nodding at a woman to fill our glasses with whiskey. “I can’t stop looking for her, Cole. I have to find her. Braelyn does not know the target that’s now painted on her back because of her ties to me. I’ve more enemies than friends, and while I have very powerful friends, they can’t protect her unless we find her. Even if she chose never to come back, I’d feel better with eyes on her.”
“You’d let her go?” Cole asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I wouldn’t. I can’t. It’s not within me to allow Braelyn to live without being at my side. She rejected me, but I can’t stomach living without her near me. She’s in my soul. I accused her of being involved in her father’s trafficking ring because I couldn’t prove she wasn’t aware of what had been happening here. We didn’t know how Harold could smuggle them in and out without the pack knowing. We found out after she’d left that he’d used the tunnels. Inside her mother’s crypt is a mass of tunnels, and one of them leads into his fucking private quarters. Harold didn’t even have to enter the lodge with his victims because he’d built a way to bring them in with no one ever knowing he had them.”
“So she may not have been aware after all?” Cole steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, and piercing blue eyes studied me, knowing my answer without me saying it. “Did she say she wasn’t part of what had been going on here?”
“Of course she did,” I scoffed. “I couldn’t take her word for it, Cole, especially after she mentioned the killing fields where we found the buried containers. But she
had an excuse for that, too.” Sighing, I lifted my glass and downed the contents, pushing it forward to be filled again. “Braelyn rejected me as her mate, which she claimed was to protect me. I’d asked her to run away with me multiple times, to escape her father before he discovered we were mates. She declined every time. Then she destroyed me in front of the entire pack. She denounced our match, saying I’d forced her to believe lust was love. Harold banished my entire crew and me. Only they never let us leave, choosing to sell us to the highest bidder to be fucked and tortured by sick assholes passing us around for entertainment. You know the rest since you helped Xavier free us.”
Cole blew out a loud breath, grabbing the glass in front of him. I watched him take a long drink of the whiskey before Xavier spoke into the speaker, announcing they were heading back up the mountain. I deflated, peering up at the men and women escorting the children toward the medivac vans that waited.
“If my torturers figure out that Braelyn is mine, they’ll go for her. I can’t live with that. I can’t stomach the idea of Braelyn being held captive by the same sadistic monsters I’m fighting against,” I admitted, turning as Eryx entered the room with files in his hands. “More leads?” I asked, watching his dark head nod before he smiled at Cole, grabbing his hand to yank him up, patting him on the back roughly.
“Hey, asshole,” Eryx chuckled. “Long time since I saw your ugly face.”
“Careful, puppy. If I recall, you called me ugly once before, and I fucked your girlfriend the same night while you fucked her throat.”
“She enjoyed it, and it didn’t bother me one bit.” Eryx shrugged his shoulders before he sat, tapping his fingers on the files. “This shit is driving me insane. One report says someone saw Brae at the circus, riding a donkey.”
“I don’t foresee her riding a donkey.”
“Nah, not riding,” Eryx stated, using his fingers to emphasize his meaning. “Riding the donkey, asshole.”
“That shit’s kinky, even for you, assholes,” Cole laughed, running his finger over his bottom lip.
The doors opened, and Xavier and Xari walked through with Enzo and Ezekiel on their heels. They tossed pictures down on the table, and my stomach clenched, hating that we’d be going through them for signs of who they were and from where they’d been taken.
Since the day Braelyn vanished, we’d started bringing the orphans here for rehabilitation. Brae had left the herbal concoction combination and medicine chart with Jacob, surprisingly, and the pack had helped administer the doses. Well, it had surprised the pack, not me. Braelyn may have been hurt by her pack turning against her, but she didn’t want them hurt. That simple action spoke more about her character than anything else she’d done since I had returned.
“How many saved?” Eryx asked, his eyes guarded to shield the painful memories those words stirred. Once upon a time, Cole asked the same question as we stood behind him, with the same crew present.
“Twenty-three, one was too far gone to save,” Xariana announced.
“Did you find any trace of your Jane Doe there?” I asked, noting Xavier looked paler than usual.
“No, but we found a collection of videos I intend to go through. I can’t help but feel like I failed this girl. It’s been over a year since there’s been any sign of her. I just need to move on and focus on the ones I can save now. The ones that are still alive out there, waiting to be found.”
“Speaking of videos,” Cole announced. “We raided a compound of shifters a few weeks back. They were heavy into torture and enjoyed watching wolves slaughtered on video. My men came across one that I thought we could watch together. They think this victim was held in the same place you were, Saint, because she called out your name.”
“It’s possible, but few escaped that bitch’s pit when they were placed in there with Eryx or me. Not that I’m bragging, but she pitted us against anyone they put in the pit. They were normally higher on the food chain than we were.” I frowned as Cole produced a memory card and slid it to Sian, who had just walked in, his suit on point even though he had no fucking reason to wear one. Zayne smirked, dropping more folders onto the table before I nodded at the card. “Put it in. Let’s see if one of us can’t identify the girl on the video.”
Grabbing the whiskey, I poured everyone a round while Zayne got the feed up on the main screen. Once I’d refilled the glasses, I turned, wincing at the sight that came to life on the monitor. Harold stood beside a victim, his eyes filled with something dark and sinister. The woman was bound, her arms tied above her as he peeled a large piece of skin from her stomach.
Nausea washed through me, knowing exactly how much pain was involved when skinned alive. The entire room watched as Harold tossed the knife aside and spoke to the camera, with no volume, as per his usual shit. It wasn’t until someone else entered the room, his face obscured by a mask, that the camera was adjusted, and the volume came to life. I didn’t relish the idea of hearing her screams or reliving the tortured memories they’d bring back to life.
“Nothing yet? She’s a different breed, Harold,” the masked male announced, and even though he was wearing the mask, we all knew it was Lucas.
“There is that sadistic fuck, Lucas. I can’t believe he was under our noses all this time, and had been the one to help Harold in his torture session. But why wear the mask?” Eryx gripped his fists and shook in rage.
My eyes slid back to the woman, noting her head was covered, and I was willing to bet she was probably gagged beneath the sack. It helped Harold and Lucas to dehumanize their victims. It took away having to peer into their eyes, knowing that a soul lived beneath it.
“She’ll break, eventually. They all do with enough incentive,” Harold snorted, dragging the dull edge of the knife over the inside of her thigh. “Isn’t that right, little one? Come on. Daddy wants to play with you, sweet girl.”
Muffled sounds filled the room. The girl twisted, and blood ran down her body, drenching the only clothes she wore, a tiny pair of cotton panties. Every inch of her body was covered in angry bruises, and there was nothing I could see that would identify her.
“Sick bastard,” Xariana grunted, drinking from the glass in front of her.
Why Xavier wanted her to learn about monsters like Harold was beyond me. I had to give her credit; she was a fierce little hunter and took no shit. She was young, but her rose-colored glasses had been shattered long ago.
“Tell me you’re mine,” Harold demanded.
More muffled cries filled the small room where the girl was held. Men entered the frame, freeing her hands, forcing her to stand on legs cut on all sides, showing her thighs’ inside sensitive area had been removed. She was a fighter, not that it was doing her any good. She struggled against the men that held her arms, fighting against their hold.
“Give me what I want, and this ends. Tell me you’re mine, sweet girl. Come on! Say it, so I don’t have to hurt you anymore. You know I don’t like to hurt you.” Harold leaned closer, tilting his head.
“I thought you said she spoke? She sounds gagged,” I asked, not enjoying the show that had my stomach churning with the need to throw up.
“Just wait,” Cole snorted, nodding at the monitor. “I was told that she starts talking after Harold removes the hood.”
“Great,” Eryx muttered, downing his drink before refilling it to the rim. “Wish we could bring this fuck back to life and murder him again and again…”
“Me too,” I agreed, topping off my glass and leaning back to watch as Harold blocked the view of his victim from the camera.
“Say it again, you little bitch!” Harold snarled, ripping the hood off, tossing it behind him. He continued to block the view, struggling to remove the gag in her mouth.
“Saint Kingsley!” The girl’s voice filled the room, and my blood turned to ice.
“You fucking little whore! He’s gone. He can’t ever come back. You will give me what I want from you! I will father a child within your
womb, even if I have to fucking cutting it out of you!” Harold snarled, slashing against her chest. He moved, and Braelyn, my Braelyn, lunged, her face coming into the camera’s view as everyone around me went dead silent.
Blood drained from my face as the glass in my hand shattered. Braelyn’s body was mottled in cuts and bruises, and large pieces of her flesh were missing. Her eyes were wild as she continued screeching my name, maddened by her need to say it. Tears burned my eyes, sliding them over the screen as she fought to attack her father even though her body was broken.
“Jesus fuck,” Eryx snapped.
“What the fucking hell,” Zayne asked, turning horrified eyes to where I sat, motionless as I watched Braelyn fight a losing battle.
Harold slashed against her stomach, cutting her open as the men grabbed her from behind, holding her up for his abuse. He punched her, but she refused to stop screaming my name like she was trying to shout it loud enough that I’d hear her and come back. Braelyn’s head snapped back as the knife slid through the side of her cheek.
Her tiny hands lifted, holding her face as her father continued slashing through her skin. He dropped the blade, and it crashed to the floor as he slammed his fist into her face. She lurched backward, slipping through her blood, fighting to stay upright.
“Gods damn,” Xariana uttered, her tone as horrified as I felt.
“Turn it off,” I whispered through the saliva pooling in my mouth, unable to watch anymore. My stomach roiled, threatening to expel the whiskey.
No one moved, disgusted and shocked as the film continued with Braelyn slipping to the floor and alphas attacking her crumpled form. It wasn’t until a soft cry erupted behind us that everyone turned to see Chaos, watching the woman he loved and considered his mom, mutilated on the screen.
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