by Faith Gibson
Or were they? She was going on the word of a kidnapper. It was entirely possible they weren’t all that far from the nearest town. She’d been told, not shown, the property where The Sanctuary was located was vast. Agnes mentioned cattle, so it made sense there was a section large enough to accommodate the animals, but what if they only had a few cows and not a herd? They wouldn’t need thousands of acres for twenty cows. Then again, she was only speculating. Kerrigan had never visited a farm or a ranch. It was possible Agnes didn’t know how large the land was. Gideon, and probably his guards, knew the truth about the property, but he was keen on keeping his people under his control.
Kerrigan wanted to think everyone there had made the decision to live in such a way. Away from society. Away from what Gideon considered evil. His teachings were much more fire and brimstone than the Catholic mass she’d heard in her young days. Sure, the priests had talked about good versus evil, but it was nothing like Gideon spoke of during Bible study. She found it odd for their meetings to be called such, when the only Bible she could see during that time was the one atop the lectern. The one Gideon never bothered to open. He could be pulling the scriptures he quoted out of his ass for all she knew.
Gideon... she didn’t know his last name... likened himself to God. He made the rules, telling his followers he knew what was best for all of them, and that included unions among his people. She didn’t understand that either. If a man and woman fell in love, who was he to say they weren’t good enough for each other? And poor Agnes. She said Gideon hadn’t chosen her. Shouldn’t it be the man she was interested in doing the choosing?
That was just one of several reasons Kerrigan was convinced she was living among a cult. Now, how did she get away from it?
Chapter Seven
War
WARRYCK’S plans to hit the road immediately after the school year didn’t go as planned. Lucy had gotten caught up in something sinister when her new boss wanted to use her studies of genetics at MIT as well as instruction under Lucius to carry on her great uncle’s work. Ryker kept War apprised of the situation. War offered to leave school, even though there were only a few weeks left, but Lucy insisted War should finish out the school year. It didn’t sit well with him, leaving his daughter’s fate in the hands of his brothers or the Gargoyle she’d met recently. Ryker convinced War the family had it handled, so he remained where he was and completed the year.
The second school was over, War walked away from the university, having already cleaned out his office. He made arrangements with a neighbor to watch over his house while he was away, and he headed to his daughter’s home. He didn’t stay long, but it was long enough to hear what she’d been through as well as meet the Gargoyle who was her mate. Gargoyles had one mate for life, and Lucy happened to be Tamian St. Claire’s. Not only was the male a shifter, he was heir to the Italian Gargoyle throne. His family and Clan welcomed Lucy with open arms, and the two of them were off to New Atlanta where one of the Gargoyles was going to instruct Lucy in computer infiltration.
After a brief visit with his parents and brothers – because that was all he could handle – War and Mav set out. When studying the map and figuring out where they wanted to start, they agreed on heading east to Maine and working their way across the States as far as they could, stopping at parks and campgrounds. Thirty years prior, when the Ministry attempted to take civilization back to the dawn of time, another canyon had been formed in the middle of the country, making travel by land harder to navigate, but they figured they’d head as far west as possible and traverse around the deep gorge when the time came.
They didn’t take their time getting to Maine, only stopping for fuel, food, and a couple hours sleep. When they arrived on the coast, they decided to get a hotel room for the night to recharge before they started back the other way. War was happier than he’d been in years, and Maveryck was like a kid in a candy store, energy thrumming through his body now they were together again. It hit War hard how much he’d missed his twin.
It was fairly early when they entered Harper’s Point, a local tavern. The bar had more patrons than Warryck had expected for the time of day. “Just pick a table,” the bartender called out.
War let Maveryck choose where to sit, and he picked a table well away from the other customers. When they were settled, a pretty blonde came over to take their order. She eyed them both, but it was Maveryck who flirted with the young woman. War couldn’t help but grin as his twin bantered with the waitress. The male could charm the habit off a nun. They were similar in height and hair color, and they both had the same dark blue eyes, but Mav had more tattoos than War. His hair was longer and his blond beard fuller. Now that War didn’t have to look somewhat presentable as a professor, he planned to not worry about such things. After spring break, he stopped cutting his hair, and it was already touching his collar. The tattoos he had were mostly hidden by his clothes, but he could see that changing as well.
“Ever think of settling down?” War asked after taking a long pull of his beer.
“I tried that with Jenna. Even bought her a ring, but one day things were perfect, and the next... She just took off. Sent me a fucking text saying she needed to find herself, whatever the fuck that meant. Three years together, and she was the same the day she left as the day we met. I thought things were great, but they obviously weren’t.”
“She never contacted you afterwards?” War never knew how badly Jenna’s leaving affected Maveryck. Why would he? He hadn’t been around to see the two interact.
“Nope. It’s been four years, and you would think that shit gets easier, but I still miss her. Well, maybe not her specifically, but being with one person you enjoy coming home to every day. She knew all about us, and she never once batted an eyelash when I had to do work for the family.”
Not all Hounds told their significant other the truth as to their inner selves. Harlow had known because she was also a Gryphon. What she hadn’t known about was the family business, only about the MC. She didn’t want Lucy raised by bikers. If she’d known they were mercenaries, she’d have probably never agreed to marry Warryck. If a Gryphon told their mate about their true nature and the mate couldn’t handle it, Gryphons had the ability to alter their mate’s mind so they forgot.
“Weren’t you worried she’d tell someone about us?”
“Not really. As far as I know, she didn’t have any proof. It wasn’t like I shifted and lay around the house as a lion. Although there was one time we were in bed, and she kneed me in the balls. I might have nipped her shoulder with my beak in retaliation.”
“How long has it been since you fully shifted?”
“Four years. It was the day I got the text, and I may or may not have gone off the rails temporarily. How about you?”
“Twenty-four years. It was the day I took out Obadiah. I’m looking forward to getting out and—”
“Brooks? Is Brooks here?” An older woman with an Irish accent rushed into the bar. She was pretty with fading red hair, and the man with her was probably her husband.
“I’m Brooks. You must be Kerri’s parents.” Brooks had been tending bar, but when the woman called out for him, he came around to greet them.
“Is Kerrigan here?” her father asked in a deeper Irish brogue, shaking Brooks’s hand.
“I haven’t seen Kerri since she quit a couple months back. She was supposed to be coming to visit you. Please tell me she made it,” Brooks pled.
“No. She called us asking for money. Said Dalton had wiped out her savings. She asked us to wire her some money, but it was never picked up. We received a text from a random number saying she was safe and had decided to stay here. When we try calling, her phone doesn’t even go to voicemail, and all messages we’ve sent have gone unanswered.”
“That sonofabitch!” A large man stood from his stool at the bar and stalked over to where the others were talking. “It all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense, Ambrose?” Brooks asked.
&
nbsp; The large man – Ambrose – shook with rage. “I followed her to the ATM. Damnit! She didn’t tell me the money wasn’t there. She told me everything was fine. Still, I gave her a key to my place and told her she was welcome to stay if she needed to. When I noticed things moved around at home, I just thought she was coming in when I wasn’t there. If he took her money, then he probably found the key.”
Brooks rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “I’d seen Dalton being a jerk before, but after I kicked him out of here that night, he was beyond livid. If he took her money, he... It could have been him texting you saying she was safe.”
“Oh, God,” the mother cried, gripping her husband’s arm with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.
Maveryck made a move to stand, but War stopped him. “What are you doing?”
“We made a vow to protect humans. If this Kerrigan is in trouble, we should use our abilities to help find her. Can you sit here and tell me you honestly don’t care?”
War shook his head. “Of course I care, but what are you going to say? ‘Hey, we’re shifters, and ours is a family of mercenaries. We’ll find your daughter then take out the bastard who did this to her?’ They don’t know for certain what happened to her.”
“We can leave out what we are, but we can offer our help.” Mav crossed his tattooed arms over his chest and glared at War.
“I’m with you on this, but I think we should help a little more discreetly. Don’t you? I know I’m only a professor and not part of the family the same as you, but let’s sit and listen before we do anything rash.”
Mav relaxed back in his seat, and they drank their beer in silence while keeping their ears open. Ambrose put one of his large hands on Brooks’s shoulder. “I have a friend in the New Portland PD. I’ll give him a call. I promise, we’ll find Kerrigan.”
Brooks sighed. “Thank you, Ambrose.” When the man walked off to make the call, Brooks turned to the parents. “Why don’t you come sit down? Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“A Guinness would be nice,” the father said.
When Brooks looked at the mother, she surprised War. “I’ll have one too, but would you please add a shot of Jameson?”
“Coming right up.” Brooks led them to a table next to War and Mav before heading behind the bar. The other patrons went back to their own drinks, but talk was muted as they whispered among themselves while catching glimpses of the parents.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner, Enya.” The father took his wife’s – Enya’s – hand. Their discussion was interrupted when Brooks returned with their drinks. The place was getting busier, so he returned to his place behind the bar.
War ordered another round of drinks, and once the waitress had moved away, he leaned closer to his twin. “I’m interested in what the cop has to say. If nobody knew the woman was missing, he’s probably not going to be much help.”
Maveryck was the more laid back of the two. At least he had been when they were growing up. War took a good look at his brother, noticing the lines creasing his forehead. War had his own lines, but his were from years of worrying about himself and the classes he taught, not the fate of others. Warryck wasn’t trained in search and rescue. Not the way his twin was. His family might not search for individuals, but they did rescue humans from the hands of those who took them and kept them locked away inside their cults.
While they waited on the cop, they eavesdropped on the parents as Enya and Shawn did their best not to blame the other for not checking on their daughter sooner. Warryck’s guilt reared its ugly head. This couple was torn apart with their adult daughter’s disappearance, while he’d gone his own daughter’s whole life without worrying about her. Sure, the family kept him updated on her well-being, but if they didn’t call, he hadn’t given her much thought. He was a shitty being.
When the cop showed up, he didn’t move the parents to a back room to speak quietly. He was dressed in civilian clothes, and he drank the offered beer. His questions and mannerisms belied his off-duty appearance. Mav busied himself, typing away on his phone, but Warryck knew his twin was taking notes on everything being discussed at the next table over. War had to admit he was also interested in the conversation. Brooks’s description of Kerrigan’s boyfriend didn’t surprise War. He knew there were men who felt the need to control their partners, and when that control slipped, so did their tempers. He felt bad for the parents, but it was Ambrose, the large sailor, who was beating himself up the most for not following Kerrigan home that night.
By the time the cop was done gathering information, the date of her disappearance had been established as well as all the information they had on her boyfriend, Dalton Watkins. Some of the bar patrons who had gathered around admitted to seeing Dalton around town at other bars. None mentioned seeing him with another woman, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t moved on. It also didn’t mean he had anything to do with her disappearance, although he was the last one to see her.
It was apparent Kerrigan O’Shea was a woman who was well-loved by more than just her parents. The other customers still standing close by offered to help find their daughter. If the young woman took after her mother, she would be gorgeous. Not that it mattered to War. He knew from dealing with his students over the years that beauty came from the inside.
Maveryck waited until the crowd had dispersed from around the next table to speak. “I just sent all the information to Lucy. I figured since she’s in New Atlanta with the Gargoyles’ computer expert, they could lend a hand.”
Lucy’s mate, Tamian St. Claire, was a half-blood Gargoyle, and even though he was heir to the Italian throne once his father stepped down, he still claimed the North American Clan as his own. They had been instrumental in saving Lucy during her ordeal a few weeks back. Now, she was living in New Atlanta and learning from what Lucy called one of the best computer information specialists in the world. The equipment the Stone Society had at their disposal, along with Julian Stone’s brain, enabled them to find almost anyone at any time.
“So, what’s our plan? Are we going to hang around until we know what happened to the girl and then hand the information over?” War asked.
“No. We can’t exactly share where the information comes from. If you don’t want to go after the woman, Lucy can send an anonymous tip to the New Portland police.”
For some reason, that didn’t sit well with Warryck. He felt an unexplainable need to follow through on this themselves. “How long will it take Lucy and Julian to find what we need?”
“Depends on—” Maveryck’s phone pinged with an incoming text. “Huh. About that long.” He scooted closer to War so they could both see the text that came through. After reading the information, they were only marginally closer to knowing what happened to Kerrigan O’Shea. Traffic cameras showed her car leaving the area of her home and was lost when she’d taken to some back roads. It was picked back up being towed approximately an hour later. Kerrigan hadn’t been with the tow truck. The only other vehicle shown in the vicinity at the same time was an older model sedan. “It’s possible she caught a ride with the driver.”
“Or, they could have taken her.”
Maveryck leaned back. “Are we going to have Lucy send this information to the police or...?”
“Not yet. I think we need to pay a visit to the tow truck driver.” War couldn’t walk away from this mystery. As a matter of fact, his adrenaline was coursing at the thought of having a new purpose. While he’d been camping, he’d vowed to himself to make a difference in some way. He wasn’t ready to join the MC, but this was something he and his twin could do together.
Chapter Eight
Kerrigan
THE laps around the small room had Kerrigan warmed up. Needing to stretch out her muscles, she put one hand on the wall, and with the other, grabbed an ankle, pulling it up towards her butt. She did the same with the other leg, and when both were sufficiently loose, Kerrigan bent over to touch her toes. She’d been facing the
back wall, so in her current position, she was able to look backward between her legs. Gideon was watching her through the door, his eyes fixated on her ass. If the man didn’t creep her out, she might have remained where she was so he could get an extra eyeful. Since he did make her skin crawl, she stood and turned toward the door, crossing her arms over her chest. She gave him her best scowl. The same one she used on drunks at the bar when they hit on her.
Seemingly unphased, Gideon unlocked the door and entered, stopping just inside. “Good morning, Kerrigan. I hope you’ve had time to clear your mind.”
Clear it? Oh, no. She’d filled it with ways to get the hell out of the compound. “It’s obvious I don’t have a choice in the matter. You kidnapped me, and now I’m at your mercy. If I’m willing to give your way of living a chance, will you show me some mercy?”
Gideon’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“It’s simple, really. I don’t want to be here. Didn’t ask to be here, because, you know... kidnapping.”
“Again, we did not kidnap you. Your injuries were so extensive that your memory of the night’s events is skewed. You flagged down Brother Stanley. He brought you here because our healer was better suited to taking care of you than a walk-in clinic.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that. But since I’m stuck here and have no way of getting back to the real world, I’m asking for leniency until I become more accustomed to the way things are done. You see, where I come from, I had liberties to make my own decisions. Like the type of clothes I wore. How I did my hair. Makeup really isn’t that big a deal, but I had freedom to choose whether or not I put it on. I could eat when and where I wanted. I didn’t have to eat oatmeal every day for breakfast if I would rather have pancakes. I didn’t have to curb my language for fear of offending someone’s delicate sensibilities. Your drastic way of ruling might be okay for all the sheep of your flock, but they choose to live this way. It’s not my choice. Even my parents allowed me to make my own decisions starting when I was a teenager.”