by Selena Cross
Shit, he hadn’t been on his own since he met Ian; they were best friends. It was strange; they met in college and were the only two gay men on the floor. Not attracted to each other at all for they were more like brothers. Trent finally had someone to talk to without feeling judged. His family disowned him; his childhood friends shunned him. When he went to college, he had hoped to start a new life—and he did. Meeting Ian had been the best thing that ever happened to him. His family took him in and treated him as a long-lost family member.
The Dean of the College came to him and told him they suspected Ian of stealing and being involved in some kind of smuggling ring—Trent had laughed. Then they showed him the proof. A tape showed Ian reaching for a stolen artifact had surfaced. Trent assured the Board of Regents Ian would never have stolen it, but they had accused him of covering for his friend, so he told them to fuck off and walked out of the University. Never thinking they would fire him, too. He left to try to prove his friend’s innocence, but when he had been unable to find him, his anger had grown.
Ian called him to say he was in Ireland, great, fine, if that’s where the hell he really was, but of course, it wasn’t. Trent knew his friend had lied to him, but he never thought he went mad. In the past hour, Trent tried to get his friend away from the people who he came with. If he could talk some sense into him, maybe they stood a chance.
A cult was influencing Ian, thought Trent. At least, that’s what these men appeared to be like. Blake, the leader, was very charismatic, and the rest of the men seemed to do everything he said. It was a little strange. Two men bowed to Blake, what the hell was that about? Then, there was the large man who was looking at him with such intensity, he felt like a bug under a microscope. When he got close to anyone, the man stepped forward as if warning the other men. He had no idea what was going on. Maybe they were going to try to brainwash him, too. At this point, anything was possible.
He may need to send Ian to one of those deprogramming groups. The movie he had seen was they took the person and secluded them somewhere and deprogrammed them. It was ugly and could be actually painful. When a cult got their hooks into you, it could screw you up.
Hell, now he was out of a job, and although he had a lot of money saved up, there was no way he would be able to survive unless he found another one. How was he going to get help without money? He couldn't bring Ian’s parents into this; that would be a political nightmare. Shit. He had been the Head of the Department, how did that slip through his fingers so quickly? The assholes never even wanted to listen to him. It was as if they had made their minds up before they saw the video. Maybe their insurance would cover this if he could prove to the Regents Ian was brainwashed. Crap, he was kidding himself.
Trent had to accept the fact they were probably happy Zach and him were gone. They were two of the only gay men on the faculty. It was sad to think they would be happy to see them go if it were for that reason. Trent really thought Ian and him had finally found a home where they would not be discriminated. Maybe he was wrong, but it was feeling a little like a fucking set up.
His mind was going about a mile a minute, trying to think of a way out of this mess. When they arrived at the study, Trent paused and locked the door behind him. Ian raised an eyebrow but then laughed.
“Trent, let me tell you a little story.” Ian laughed and slapped him on the back.
“Dude, I really don’t need story time. I need to find a fucking job, and you need to get help. Man, this is beyond crazy,” Trent said warily.
“Maybe I can help you with that, well, at the least the job part. As for the other, we’ll talk about that, too, but you have to keep an open mind.” Ian laughed, and waited for his friend to nod in agreement, then continued, “Okay, I told you part of the shit that went down a few weeks ago. Let me tell you the rest. When I was at the Museum that night, something happened. It had been strange and fucking unbelievable. That coin everyone is accusing me of stealing wasn’t an artifact. It was a transport device, used by people in different Stratums.”
“Ian, did they drug you or something?” Trent asked his best friend worriedly and looked into his eyes. “Cause I swear if they did, I will kick their ass, making them sorry for ever fucking with us. I think we need to call someone, and get him or her over here right now. We can have you away from these guys in a few minutes.”
Trent pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began to search with it to find what he was looking for. How the hell did you search for ‘deprogrammers’? He just typed in what he thought would pull up the information and Ian pulled the phone from his hands.
He laughed and slapped his best friend on the back of the head. They had been together for so long that sometimes Trent forgot they were friends, he thought of Ian as family. His friend had the benefit of having a supportive family—while Trent didn’t. In fact, his family was a bunch of fucking lunatics and pricks. Trent came home with him on all breaks and holidays, just to avoid staying in the dorms by himself.
Trent didn't tell Ian the extent to his abuse as a child. It was easier to tell him they didn’t like gays and kicked him out when he came out. It was true, but his father had always suspected. When Trent went to a gay pride parade, his father flipped. Trent knew he still bore the scars of that beating. Since that day, the beatings became more frequent. He could almost hear his father telling him as he whipped him that he was unnatural, a freak. All Trent had to do was accept that being gay was not an option, find a cute girl, fuck her, and then marry her. All would be right in the family.
His mother ignored it. When Trent had asked for her help, she smiled and then told him to do what his father asked, and it would be all right. Bullshit, he had tried; it was not all right; he chose a girl and tried, but it had been awkward. His brother told his father what the girl had said at school the next day. That had been the last straw. He refused to change what he was in order to please his parents. Therefore, he endured the beatings, and made sure he got good grades. It paid off when a prestigious college accepted him after he graduated. Fuck them, he borrowed and worked to get where he was today. Finding Ian and his parents had been a godsend. They gave him something he needed: support and acceptance.
Even though his friend’s parents loved Trent, there had been a time when they thought Ian and Trent were actually dating. Both men laughed and set them straight. From their first meeting, it was as if they were long-lost brothers. His parents accepted Trent and welcomed him into their fold. This was surprising a little, since his father was in politics. It was bad enough Ian was gay, but to have his friend in the limelight also, had been unheard-of.
Only the strongest character of men could withstand the backlash from having a gay son or daughter in the world of politics. Ian’s father and mother supported him, just the same as they done to their own children. For that reason, he'd make sure Ian was taken care of. Trent frowned at his friend and clenched his fists. Maybe if he knocked him out, he could make the call and escape through the window. The fire escape was right there. Trent was strong enough to make it down carrying his friend, which was one thing he knew for sure. His strength from working out would enable them to make a run for it.
“Bro, they didn’t drug me. I am telling you the truth. Listen, there are seven different Stratums, they refer to ours as the Human Stratum, not too pressed for the imagination. Then there are the Wizards, Witches, and Warlocks Stratum; that’s where Blake, my mate, is from. He is the King of the Stratum; I know it sounds crazy, but I will come back to this. I haven’t met Shifters yet, you know from the Shifter Stratum. Yes, I said Shifter, and then there's the Elves, the Trolls, the Palin, and the Fae,” Ian said slowly.
“Okay, I get it. Let’s call your parents and talk to them about this, I mean, this is big for you to be leaving here, and what did you call it? Stratum. You mated to the King, well that is awesome,” Trent said easing toward the phone Ian set on the table. He had heard not to make sudden movements when talking to someone who had a psychotic break,
or was under mind control. His friend had, there was no other explanation. Trent looked into his friend’s eyes for any indication he had gone mad. He could find none, only an amused gaze that was beginning to freak him out.
Shit, all this time he had been covering for his friend. Thinking he was just having fun with a new man. Hoping his friend had found someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life. He trusted his friend’s call; Ian had never actually given him cause to think he was unstable. He knew this man and he could do anything. He was like Superman without the cape—he had told him that. Trent liked to think he was a lot like Ian.
He would make sure his friend had the best care. These men were obviously taking advantage of him. Well, that was fucking gonna stop. Trent was going to call Ian’s parents first, and then he would call the police to deal with these assholes. Trent ran out of alternatives, calling his parents was the only choice he had.
“Trent, knock it off and listen. Blake is the King of the Trivet or Wizard Stratum. He is a Wizard. I am trying to tell you this shit fast, before Logan, Blake’s brother, has an aneurism. When I went to the Museum and grabbed hold of that guy with the coin, we ended up in this other place. It looked a lot like New York but in a strange freaky ass way. You’ll see, but listen. It's about the mate issue. I am Blake’s mate, which means I am the King’s Consort. I am heading up the Education Division there; I could really use your help, but I will also explain that later. Mates, with Wizards, is like crazy, they give you power, and you also share his or her lifespan and everything. Some of the Stratums have been around long before this one. Humans are behind the power curve a little on some things, but the man who was staring at you, was Logan. He is Blake’s brother, and the head of the Stratum Security, a real big deal. I don’t know if he has a title, we can ask. Anyway, he is your mate,” Ian said. “I need you to go to your apartment and pack some stuff. We really don’t have much time for explanations. Nevertheless, there is something going on. Someone has decided they are going to try to take over all the Stratums, and it’s a mess, once again, something you have to hear about later; we just don’t have the time to fuck around here.”
Trent nodded as if he was listening to everything his friend was saying, which he was, but not believing. Ian had seriously had a break in reality. He needed help quick; Ian’s father would make the arrangements quickly. Trent was going to wait to call the police because he was going to beat the shit out of the guys who did this.
He was not a small man, standing six feet three inches; he was huge to most people. Trent knew he could be intimidating if he wanted to, and he actually wasn’t afraid to do it. His shoulders were broad, and his thighs muscular from the exercises he did, keeping Trent fit and trim. He had a six-pack, which impressed his boyfriends. When he played basketball or football, which he loved, he had no problem keeping up with the young bucks.
“Trent, I am fucking serious, knock it off. I can see how your brain is working. You think I’m nuts, and you’re trying to think how you can get to the phone and call someone. Then you’re going to try to kick Blake’s ass for giving me drugs or something,” Ian said dryly.
Trent paused and looked at his friend. He sounded sane when he said shit like this. Then he opened his mouth again.
“But this is fucking real. I can show you if you stop being a pain in my ass for more than thirty seconds.”
“Really?” Trent said deciding to wait—defuse the situation, right, that’s something he read also. Maybe if he calmed his friend down, and talked to him, they would be able talk some reason into to him. He didn’t want his parents to commit him, which would suck and not be helpful to his cause of proving his innocence. Even though, an insanity plea may work.
Ian sighed and put his head down. “How long have we been friends?”
“Fifteen years, give or take,” Trent said automatically.
“And in all those years, have I ever taken a drug?” Ian asked calmly.
“No, but you may not know they're doing it. Let’s just get your blood tested,” Trent argued.
“Man, you are my best friend, I have already told the parents, call them. I showed them. Now calm the fuck down and listen. Logan is hot, nice, and the best part, Blake’s brother, which means you'll live in the Castle with me. We can hang out, work together, have beer night, and everything like we have been. Just please listen and go. I don’t want to leave you, and I think Logan would flip out. We only have a short period of time to be here,” Ian said and then whistled loudly, and the large men unlocked the door somehow and entered. Trent looked at them with surprise. He knew the door didn’t have a key; it only locked from the inside.
Trent’s eyes instantly were drawn to the man who was staring at him again. Damn, it was the eyes. They were fucking amazing. They had to be the funkiest shade of blue he had ever seen, almost purple. Trent loved his hair, cut into a short high and tight, thick, and either light brown or dark blond hair. It made him seem like he was in charge. He was sexy.
Was he honestly thinking about one of the cult members as hot? Seriously, 'cause it seemed like possibly he was being brainwashed right now. Shit, perhaps they put something in his drink, or perhaps they used hypnosis. Trent turned and closed his eyes refusing to make eyes contact with them, as well as throwing the drink Ian gave him away.
Excerpt from Damon’s Redemption
The Secret of Wolf River Book Two
By Jessica Lupo
Prologue
“Alright, alright,” he said, backing away slowly. “But you'll be seeing me again, I promise you. You better protect your friends and loved ones, especially your dear Helena.”
David advanced on him and snarled viciously. Damon snarled and jumped back quickly, continuing to back away at a slightly quickened pace.
“I'll be guarding her life with my own, and if you ever come near her again, I will kill you myself! That, I promise you, dear brother.”
“Goodbye, brother! Until we meet again!” he shouted, turning around and sprinting away through the snow as fast as he could, changing to his wolf form in midrun.
Damon awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed. He wiped the couple of beads of sweat from his forehead and looked at the clock. It was only two a.m., the same time as the night before, when he had been awakened by the same dream. He was beginning to think that memory would continue to haunt him. He would never forget their cold stares of hatred when he saw them, only day before yesterday.
It wasn’t until 3 a.m. that he finally fell back to sleep, only to dream the same dream, but instead of running away from his family, as he had in reality, he attacked David, killing him… his own brother. Only seconds later, he felt a searing pain in his neck and everything suddenly went black.
Damon was startled awake again, and this time, his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and he was drenched in sweat. Sighing, he got up and went in the bathroom to take a sip of water from the glass resting on the counter. His reflection in the mirror caught his eye and he stared at himself for a moment. He looked tired, not only from lack of sleep, but genuinely depressed.
How the hell did I get this way? What was the point of it all this shit? he thought, before turning away and returning to bed, unable to go back to sleep. He lay there in his bed thinking of how his life had gone to hell in a handbasket. He only hoped he would get the opportunity to turn it around.
Chapter One
Damon walked past the cells in the New York State Prison where he worked, still assuming his false identity as Jeremy Myers. He loved his job, as a prison guard, but not because of the paycheck or regular hours, he worked every day.
He loved whom he worked with. It wasn’t all the employees he enjoyed working with, though. It was only one person in particular. She was a beautiful woman named Morgan Delfina, who worked in the prison as a nurse. Every time he looked at her, he found it difficult to take his eyes off her. She rather resembled a porcelain doll in a way; her skin was pale, yet perfect, and her curly, long, r
aven-black hair accented her slightly round face. Her frame was thin, but not too thin, and had nice curves. In his eyes, she was perfect.
The first time Damon saw Morgan was one night at the edge of the forest near the prison. He didn’t know it at the time, but she had just moved to town, and was walking home from her first day at work, because she didn’t have a car yet. He didn’t know if she had seen him change to his wolf form, but his golden wolf eyes met hers for a moment before he disappeared out of sight.
The day after he first saw her, he spotted her at the prison, and found out through his co-workers that she had just been hired as the new nurse. He had been seeing Rose for a couple years at that point, so all he did was occasionally say hi, and make small talk with Morgan.
He barely even realized not being able to pursue a relationship with Morgan, was what slowly turned him against Rose. He became hateful and short-tempered with her. God, he even slapped her in the face before, in the heat of an argument. He was a total ass with her most of the time. Damn, he even chased her with a knife. The worst part of all of this; he knew it to be wrong, but he just couldn’t stop himself at the time. Shit, Rose didn’t need to hate him; he hated himself for what he had become.
There had to be a reason for his bad behavior; he just couldn’t think of one at this time. Except, Rose wasn’t his true mate, he had known that from the minute he met her. It was just that the pull towards her had been so strong. He should have ignored it, but Damon had been so lonely then, and Rose had been so kind to him.
Damon met Rose one evening at the fast-food restaurant where she worked. Back then, she was only a minimum wage employee. It was her first day working there, he could tell. She was still nice to the employees, but he could tell she was frustrated.