Dark Veil (The Society Series Book 3)

by Mason Sabre

  Cade …

  The very thought of him brought about so much inside Phoenix. It pulled heavy against his chest. In his mind, Cade was slipping away into darkness—their white room was nothing more than an empty chamber now. The man who had saved his life and given him a home had disappeared into a dark cave, and Phoenix had no idea he was ever coming out again. The still wolf was fading.

  What would happen to Phoenix if Cade died?

  Phoenix curled his fingers tightly around the door handle as the thought rose unbidden to his mind. The Others wouldn’t protect him forever. He was the burden in their lives—he was a burden in Cade’s life. All he had brought him was problems and tribulations, he thought gloomily. It would be better for everyone if he just left.

  He could run again—he knew how to do that. He’d be long gone before anyone even noticed. Maybe they wouldn’t stop him even if they knew. He’d made it this far—made it into the woods that day. He could make it again.

  Stephen and Raven had stopped at the edge of the hedgerow that surrounded the property and were talking for a moment, Stephen pointing in different directions as they made plans for them to split up and search. Phoenix would never be one of them. He would never stand there and be called upon to be the fighter. Even from this distance, Stephen and Raven’s large frames emanated dominance, power. They knew their place in this world—they had a place.

  Stephen’s trained mind was razor-sharp and he had a confidence that Phoenix could only dream about. Phoenix was just … nothing. Human. He would always be this way. His body could grow, his muscles eventually shape and tone and his bulk transform to man, but he would never be like Stephen and Raven. Even Raven, a part stray, had a place and a purpose in this world. They were both wanted and needed.

  Phoenix scowled at himself in the mirror at the centre of the visor he had pulled down to keep an eye on Andy. Childish blue eyes stared back at him, filled with innocence and weakness. The scar that ran through Phoenix’s eyebrow was more vivid today, alive with colour and pain. He’d never be accepted if Cade died. Two fathers—two species—and he would ruin them both. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

  Andy coughed, startling Phoenix and pulling him from his thoughts. He automatically gripped the door handle harder and mentally chastised himself. He needed to stay focused.

  He glanced back towards the hedgerow—Stephen and Raven had disappeared from sight now. They were off doing what was needed of them, and he was sitting in the car because they couldn’t take him with them. He was too weak and too much of a problem. He didn’t blame them really—he’d not want him tagging along, either.

  They were different. They were real men—real men who didn’t kill their mothers and cause their fathers to hate them. Phoenix crushed the handle in his hand and stared at himself in the mirror with hatred. He clenched his jaw and turned away abruptly, not bearing to look at his pathetic reflection any longer.

  If Cade dies …

  Andy was still coughing. Wheezy whistles punctuated the onslaught as he tried to breathe, his face turning red from the effort.

  Phoenix twisted around in his seat. “Are you okay?”

  The man in the back strained forward against the binds that held him in place, the ropes pulling tighter and digging deeper into his flesh.

  Phoenix should have just gone, he knew it. He should have got out of the car and run when the thought first came to mind. That was his problem, wasn’t it? He never acted, never did what was right. He just stayed there and let everyone die around him. This man was going to die. He was going to sit in the back of the car and choke to death.

  “Untie me,” Andy spluttered. “Fucking untie me, half-breed. I can’t breathe.”

  The name grated against Phoenix. “No.”

  He wanted to. He twitched in his seat to lean over and let the man go so that he could deal with whatever this cough was. But that would just be a trick … wouldn’t it? A ploy to let the stupid wolf who had once been Human fuck up. Andy would get away and then Phoenix would be screwed, exposing him for what he really was—a failure.

  He should have just left before he let any of them down—before they all ended up looking at him with the same hatred that his father had yesterday. He could already see it in some of them—Trevor especially. It wasn’t Cade’s father’s fault, he mused. The Other just wasn’t good at hiding it.

  But Malcolm and Emily? They would see eventually. Malcolm only spoke to him when he had to, and Emily probably only tolerated him, too.

  He should have left.

  Andy coughed harder, the blood vessels in his eyes started to burst. Phoenix started to panic. Maybe he should go around to the back and hit Andy on the back. But as Andy retched and coughed and choked, all Phoenix did was sit and watch like some helpless half-breed that they all believed him to be.

  “Let me out,” Andy wheezed through another coughing bout. “Untie me.”

  “I can’t.”

  Spittle flew from Andy’s mouth and saliva ran down his chin and dripped onto his shirt. He threw his head back, panting to catch his breath—getting ready for the next round. Perhaps he wasn’t faking it, Phoenix thought nervously.

  Andy shot forward suddenly, his eyes bulging like those of cartoon characters in children’s comic books. He was sure they were going to explode any second, images of flying eyeballs and blood splatter vivid in his head.

  This time, Andy’s strangled cough was followed by a spatter of blood from his mouth. His chest rattled and expanded with a thud. Phoenix looked on in horror as blood began to pour from his eyes, nose and ears. It stained his cheeks, dark rivers of red mingling as they flowed down his face, his collar growing dark with it. It soaked through the top of his shirt, painting the fabric crimson. Andy opened his mouth through the agonising pain, but all that came out were thick, guttural cries masked by the gurgling inside his chest. “Shit.” Phoenix fumbled for the handle of the car just as the car’s doors all flew open at the same time. Blood splayed across the seats and windows and hit Phoenix as Andy’s arm was ripped clean from his body from the violent force of the car doors opening.

  Phoenix stared at Andy’s lifeless body, bile rising to his throat.

  Before he knew what was happening, he was being pulled from the car and launched onto the dirt. Instinct and Stephen and Cade’s training instantly kicked in, and Phoenix rolled over and tried to spring to his feet. A vicious kick to his ribs had him sprawling on the ground again. He grunted and looked up at the three large men that stood over him threateningly. A movement to the side caught his eye as a tall, slim woman with long, black hair approached him. He squinted to see better, still winded from the blow to the ribs. She was pretty, older, and definitely Other.

  She propped one of her high-heeled boots onto his chest and pushed him back onto the ground. Tilting her perfectly made-up face to the side, she sighed as she studied him. “Handsome little thing you are,” she crooned. “What a shame.”

  One of the men hunkered down next to him, his face an impassive mask.

  “What do you want?” Phoenix ground out, glaring at him, and the woman from above him chuckled.

  “Ooh, handsome and feisty. I like that.”

  With lightning speed, the man’s arm shot out and something sharp pricked Phoenix’s neck before he had a chance to stop him.

  His hand flew up to cup his neck while trying to hit the man with the other. His limbs grew heavy and his head fell back with a thud. Darks and greys slipped into the edges of his vision, and everything around him started to blur.

  All he had needed to do was watch the car and he couldn’t even manage that. The world started to collide. He had failed, he thought dejectedly just before his entire world went black.

  When Phoenix opened his eyes, he was surrounded by darkness. He was lying on something hard and cold and fabric. He rolled onto his back, but the place was confined. The surface where he lay wasn’t flat or smooth. It had metal ridges and above him was another sheet of metal. His
body bounced and jolted suddenly, making him land sharply on his shoulder. He was in a car— in the boot of a car. He rubbed at his neck where they had jabbed him. How long had he been out? He didn’t have a clue, but they were moving. No longer at the house.

  Great.

  Not only did he not fit in, but now he was incompetent. He lay on his back, his knees twisted to the side because the space wasn’t high or wide enough to have his legs up or stretched out. Now what did he do? Wait again, for them to save him and get him out like they always did? Maybe this was why he didn’t really fit. Maybe this was why they saw him as weak.

  There was nothing in the boot with him. No tools, nothing to bang or to smash his way out. He pressed his palms firmly to the roof of the lid, but it was locked. He couldn’t do anything with the mechanism. It was housed in metal, and even if he could get to it, he didn’t have a key.

  The car was moving fast. It went over bumps in the road, which rattled through there back and jarred him. He put his hand out to steady himself and tried to keep his head up, but they went over something big in the road and his cheek smashed off the floor of the boot as his head whipped to the side. Pain throbbed lanced through him, sending lightning through his skull.

  He was stuck.

  Phoenix lay in the darkness a moment, stilling himself and his mind so that he could think logically about this. There were ways out of this, weren’t there? He had read enough that he should have come across something. The boot wasn’t in total darkness—light came in from the gaps around the panel that held the car’s lights in place. Phoenix shoved a boot against one of them and it moved an inch. He pushed his back against the interior of the car to give himself some leverage and raised his foot again and waited. When the car hit another bump in the road, he slammed his foot against the panel. It took six good kicks for the panel to become dislodged, and when it did, Phoenix moved himself around and pushed the panel out.

  He could see the road. It sped by as he peered out. He pressed his face to the hole he had just made and the light panel swung down. They were in no place he recognised. The road was just that … a road. There was nothing along the way. Nothing to tell him where he was or how far they had gone. There were no other cars on the road. No one else there. And no point in yelling.

  Suddenly, the car veered to the side and started to slow when the tyres hit what sounded like gravel. Something beeped and hummed, and then Phoenix heard the mechanical sound of rollers and doors. The car stopped, but the engine was still running. Phoenix held his breath, then the car moved again. They were going down. The car came to another stop and the driver cut the engine. One … two … three doors opened. Phoenix shoved himself back into the boot and waited.

  The boot opened after a few minutes. The man standing there was probably around Cade’s age, but he had a receding hairline. Phoenix felt half of his face work, the other half seeming numb.

  The man angled his head as he looked at Phoenix. “A real half-breed,” he beamed. “I never thought I would see the day.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stephen’s heart lurched inside his chest with the realisation of what he had done. His pulse thundered loudly, the hum of the world around him paling into nothing. He stared at the empty passenger seat where Phoenix should have been.

  Fuck.

  “You put the prize right in front of them and then left the box unattended for them to just take it when no one was looking.”

  His jaw tightened and his hands balled into fists. The witch was right. That’s exactly what he had done.

  What a stupid fuck he was.

  He glanced from the car to the main road, his eyes searching frantically for any kind of clue. With a curse, he ran an agitated hand through his hair. What the hell was he expecting to find—a fucking sign that read, ‘Bad guys, this way’?

  “God damn fucking shit,” he shouted. “How the fuck did this happen?”

  Raven got to his feet, hauling the witch up with him. “Behave,” he growled at her, and she glared at him mutinously. She squeaked as he dragged her with him over to Stephen, almost stumbling while trying to keep up with his long strides. He let his gaze rove the area. “They can’t have gone too far.”

  Stephen stared hard at the woman. “Taking my sister and my friend … all this …” he motioned to the mess around them, “it was all just a lure to get to Phoenix? To get the boy?”

  She flicked her hair back and dusted herself off as much as was possible with Raven gripping her arm. He scowled at her and gave her a shake so she would answer. She threw him an annoyed look before casting her eyes upon Stephen. “What need would they have of your sister and friend?”

  “What need do they have of Phoenix?” Stephen shot back.

  The witch pursed her lips and lifted her chin in defiance, her long, blonde hair swaying behind her. She was beautiful, perfect—a god damn siren of the land—but right now, Stephen would love nothing more than to put his hands around her pretty, little neck and throttle her. “Where is my sister?”

  “Gone,” she replied with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s too late now.”

  “Too late? Stop fucking with us, witch,” Raven said fiercely. “Where are they?”

  Her expression twisting into one of hatred, she yanked her arm from his grasp, and this time, Raven let her go. “You,” she said, pointing at Stephen, her eyes blazing, “and you,” she pointed at Raven. “I don’t owe either of you anything. Go find them yourself.”

  “You owe it to yourself,” Stephen shot back. “You know damn well they didn’t send you to kill me. They were sending you to your death. This is who you want to protect? When they’d see you dead in a heartbeat?”

  “Really?” she drawled. Taking a step back, she flicked her hand at Stephen in one fluid movement. Something smacked him in the ankles and took his footing right out from under him, sending him flying down to the ground and landing on his back with a thud.

  Raven lunged for her, but she raised her hand again, palm out, and sent him reeling back so that he landed next to Stephen in the dirt. “As you can see,” she said, placing her hands on her hips triumphantly, “I am quite capable of looking after myself. That is why they sent me.”

  “Party tricks,” Stephen muttered as he got back up.

  Raven got to his feet next to him, murder on his face. She raised her hand again, but he was ready for her this time. With feline speed, he leapt for her, knocking her to the ground and pinning her wrists down so that she couldn’t cast any more of her underhanded magic. She gasped and began to struggle beneath his big, heavy frame in vain. “You have no idea how much I enjoy the feel of soft, writhing, female flesh under me,” he taunted her silkily. His words had the desired effect and she immediately froze, her cheeks burning crimson.

  “Yes, I have no doubt that unwilling, thrashing women are the only type you ever manage to get into your bed,” she spat.

  Raven chuckled. They both knew that a man that looked like him would never be short of eager women in his bed. “What’s your name?” he demanded.

  “Fuck you.”

  In one fell swoop, he had flipped her over so that she was lying on her front. She squealed and resumed her struggles while Raven held both hands behind her, knee planted firmly on her back to keep her in place. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, his lips close to her ear. “Your name.”

  She gritted her teeth then grunted reluctantly, “Anika.”

  Stephen sighed as he crouched down next to her head.

  “Get the fuck off me,” she shrieked, trying to buck him off her, but he was bigger, heavier and he pinned her easily. Raven pushed her head down and Stephen frowned.

  “What’s this?” He shoved her hair out of the way, sweeping it back. Behind her ear was a tattoo—a number—just like the girl he had found at the river. He exchanged glances with Raven.

  “None of your fucking business. That’s what that is.”

  Raven dragged her to her feet once more, keeping her hands fi
rmly behind her back.

  “I found a body—a woman,” Stephen said quietly. “She had a tattoo just like this.”

  “So?” she panted.

  “These are the same people who have my sister? They killed that woman.”

  The witch scoffed. “Like you actually care.”

  “They have my sister and my friend, and now they have an innocent child,” Stephen persisted, “so yeah, I do care.”

  “Always the way, isn’t it? Society doesn’t give a shit to what happens out here. We can all rot and it doesn’t matter. Yeah, I know who you are, Stephen Davies. Spoilt fucking heir to the god almighty throne of power.”

  Stephen’s features hardened. What the hell did she know? He had his freedom. “If you side with the Humans, you are just as bad as they are.”

  She gave a short laugh. “You don’t care about what goes on here until it affects you. Society—all the fucking same. You don’t get it, do you? It is you in the wrong.” She fixed Raven with a glare. “And you're worse than he is. You know that? At least he was born into Society. He doesn’t know any better. But you … you tied up one of our own,” she motioned towards Andy with her head. “You … you …” Her voice faltered as her gaze fell on Andy’s mutilated body once more, chest heaving as she tried to regain her composure.

  When she turned back to Stephen and Raven, her blue eyes swirled with emotion. “This is what Society does. They take strays, tie them up and leave them to die like that ... like it doesn’t matter. It’s what you’ll both do if I tell you,” she rasped. “So why should I? What’s Society going to do for me? What have they ever done for me? Nothing … just treat me like some cheap whore and then cast me aside … again.”

  Both men remained quiet for a moment, then Raven said, “Do you promise not to try anything if I let you go again?” Surprised eyes jumped to his, but he simply stared at her, hard jaw set in a determined line. She blinked away tears and gave a curt nod.