Casey

by Claire Marta

  Casey’s car turned down a side road and pulled over to park.

  Quickly descending, they landed nearby and raced on foot to reach her, dressing as they went.

  Casey’s car came into view. Staring through the windshield, Malik could see a crown of vibrant red hair. Their mate had her arms crossed over the steering wheel, her forehead resting on top of them.

  It was a gesture of hopelessness and defeat. He wondered if she was crying.

  “What should we do?” Iosefa whispered.

  They both knew she was unpredictable. Would she be angry and blame them for Aiden and Zac abandoning her earlier? Or was she as lost and alone as she looked?

  “She needs us.” Malik moved closer then gently rapped his knuckles on the passenger-side window.

  Casey’s head jerked up. As soon as she saw them, her blue eyes flashed with anger. He didn’t miss the sheen of tears that she quickly wiped away.

  Blowing out harshly, she cracked open her window. “What the hell are you two doing here?” she snapped.

  “We are looking for Morgan,” Malik told her simply.

  She sneered at them and shook her head. “Bullshit. Zac and Aiden don’t give a shit about her. I saw the way they took off earlier...”

  Iosefa cut off her enraged torrent. “They only left you to alert the rest of us that your friend had been kidnapped. All of us are out searching for her now. Zac and Aiden want to find her as badly as you do.”

  Casey’s expression changed. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as fresh tears filled her eyes. “Christ, we have to find her. Today… I can’t lose my best friend today of all days.”

  Malik and Iosefa shared a look. They knew it was the date of her brother’s death. They’d learned it from Casey’s drunken ramblings on the ride home from The Secret Garden Club. She’d bemoaned being alone at Thanksgiving. No friends. No family. No one to cherish and love her.

  They’d been planning to check on her later tonight after dinner.

  “It’s cold,” Iosefa said. Malik pretended to shiver. “And we’ve searched for miles.” That was true enough. They’d been searching for Casey, though. “If you give us a ride, we’ll buy you a coffee and one of those pudding-filled donuts that you like. Come on,” he wheedled, catching his lower lip between his teeth and flirting just a bit.

  She looked like she wanted to reach through the window and rip the ring out of the side of his nose.

  “Please,” Malik rumbled, shifting his human voice to enrich it with his true one. Casey shivered to hear it. They’d used their other voices when they were Moses and Aaron. When they’d sought to console her and ended up fucking her.

  “All right.”

  Holy Mother. She heard their Dom voices and obeyed without question. Could it be that simple?

  Casey unlocked her doors. “In the back. Both of you. Not a word,” she snarled. “I need to think.”

  Malik sat behind Casey. Iosefa sat on the passenger side with their backpacks stacked between them. Casey pulled away from the curb, headed for somewhere they hoped they could keep her until Morgan was recovered and the threat to them was ended.

  There was comfort in familiarity. She chose the 24-hour coffee shop around the corner from where she lived. She did not park in her spot, though. She parked on the street, making it appear that she planned to resume her search once they finished.

  Casey ordered a large black coffee, one pudding-filled donut, and two chocolate croissants that were packaged to go. Caught without their travel mugs, Malik and Iosefa ordered cups of their favorite blends and joined her at their table. Watching her bite into the donut and lick the drip of pudding made Malik’s body react in a very inconvenient way. His growing situation wasn’t helped when one of the waitresses who’d given him coffee and other things came by to see if there was anything else that he needed.

  She drew a finger along her neckline toward her admirable cleavage, making her meaning clear.

  Casey growled. She looked ready to pull her pistol.

  The waitress scurried away. She did not check on them again.

  Iosefa stared at Casey, studying her extreme reactions. She was behaving… territorial. Acting like they felt when they’d been forced to watch her at the club with Master S. They had not liked it. They had not liked it one bit.

  Then again, they were the ones who had fucked her senseless and driven her home.

  Except she remembered nothing of it.

  Malik felt… depressed. Disappointed. They had failed to sufficiently impress her. Or maybe they had and her inebriation prevented the experience from being fully imprinted in her memory. Clearly, she remembered his voice and responded to it. He wondered what else she might eventually recall. They needed her to remember what it was like to be with them, to share herself with the two of them.

  They belonged together. The sooner she recognized that, the easier life would be for all of them.

  Casey’s phone sounded. Pulling it from her pocket, she frowned at the number on the screen but accepted the call.

  Maybe it was an update on Morgan. With their enhanced hearing, he and Iosefa would know the news before she was willing to share it.

  “Hello?”

  “You have problem with your friend.”

  Malik and Iosefa looked at each other. Master S was calling their mate.

  “Ivan?” Casey’s eyes darted wildly, checking their surroundings for an unknown threat.

  Ivan’s voice was gravelly down the line. “Maybe I can help.”

  She pressed a hand to her stomach and looked at them both. “Excuse me. I need to take this call.”

  It was a challenge to hear from the distance she put between them, attempting to have a private conversation, but the questions she asked him were disturbing. Did the Russians have her? Had her cover somehow been blown? Did his boss Popov have her friend?

  Ivan was quick to reassure her. His voice was smooth and soothing, which calmed her racing heart and eased her fear.

  Malik was unsettled by this new development. “What Russians is she talking about? And why would she believe they have her friend?”

  Iosefa’s expression was grim. “I do not know, but we can ask Zana.” Fishing out his phone, he quickly made the call.

  “I’m a little busy right now,” the Persian informed them distractedly when he answered on the third ring. “I think they have located Morgan but it's unclear. I’m at the Citadel keeping an eye out in case we are attacked while everyone's efforts are focused on finding her.”

  “We need you to research some names for us.” Iosefa kept his tone low while Malik watched for Casey in case she returned. “Popov. I think it’s a last name. Russian. Here in the city. The first name Ivan is linked to it but I’m not sure how.”

  Zana hummed in his throat. “Do you know how many people could have that last name? A regular search has brought up more than a dozen… wait. Popov just pinged on the FBI website. If this is the person you're looking for, he’s Bratva.”

  The Persian went quiet for a moment. “I pulled up a picture. Popov was at the fight,” he told them. “And Ivan Michalov was, too. They’re both Bratva.”

  It made sense. Casey worked for the ATF. Was Ivan aka Master S an informant? If she’d been at the illegal fight with a group of Bratva members, that would explain why she had dyed her hair. If she was working undercover, she would need a disguise.

  Master S wore a mask at the club. Did Casey know that Dom was Russian mafia? What if she was ignorant of that fact? What if this Ivan had sought her out intentionally? It could be a dangerous secret. A compromising one for her career if anyone found out that they did scenes together at a kink club.

  “I have to go,” Zana told Iosefa hastily before the line went dead.

  Malik kept one ear trained on Casey’s conversation. Ivan was pressuring her to see him tonight. There’s no way that they could let that happen.

  “Iosefa, we must do something. She must not interfere with her friend’s rescue and she s
hould not see Master S. If we can get her in her car, can you do that thing you do? Use your voice to put her under for a while? Just until Morgan is found. While she sleeps, perhaps we can find a way to handle Master S.”

  His partner crooked a smile. “As you wish.”

  When Casey rejoined them, she wore the same look of desperation that they’d seen earlier.

  “I have to find Morgan,” she told them, shoving her phone away. “Thanks for the coffee and the food. Aiden has my number. Tell him to call me if they hear anything.”

  Both men jumped up from their seats. “We’ll come with you,” Malik insisted.

  Casey eyed them for a moment. “No,” she snipped. “I have to meet with a… a friend.”

  The Russian. She must have agreed to meet Ivan while they were distracted. They had to keep her out of danger. Making bargains with the Bratva was far too risky, but they couldn’t tell her that any more than they could tell her that their brothers were winging their way to save Morgan. Their secrets had to remain safe.

  “But our backpacks,” Iosefa said. “We left them in your car.”

  “We’ll need them,” Malik added. “Let us get them and you’ll be free to go.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie. Eventually, she’d be able to drive.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  They followed Casey out the door, moving to flank her when they reached the center of the sidewalk. Heading for her car, walking next to her, Iosefa began to hum. Low and rhythmic, his tune played out in a pattern. Casey’s steps grew slower the closer she got to her car.

  Malik caught her carefully when her knees buckled. Lifting her up, he cradled her unconscious form.

  “That didn’t take much,” Iosefa pointed out with satisfaction. “I thought it was going to take longer.”

  “She’s susceptible to our voice commands.” Malik had noted her responsiveness earlier. “It is something we should remember in the future.”

  Unlocking the vehicle, Iosefa got into the rear seat and moved their backpacks to the front passenger seat. Malik tucked Casey in beside him and arranged the sleeping female to lie with her head in his lap. With no extra room, Malik opted for the driver’s seat in the front.

  Twisting himself so he could face them, he found Iosefa stroking Casey’s red hair. “Master S cannot be allowed to touch her again at the club. It is our duty to keep her safe.”

  Iosefa inclined his head in agreement. “Our knowledge of BDSM has expanded. We could ask permission to engage her as Doms.”

  Would Precious Pet allow it? Malik could only hope that she would. If they demonstrated their abilities, surely they could satisfy Casey’s needs.

  “I do not like the way that he was able to calm her.” Iosefa’s worried voice sliced through his thoughts. “I know he is a Dominant but it felt—it felt like something more.”

  The Samoan had always been intuitive. Not as much as Theo the Greek in their ranks, but his perception was enough to concern Malik.

  “Another reason we cannot allow him near her then,” he pointed out.

  “Malik, she works for the ATF. She was seen with Russians at the underground fight. We cannot prevent her interaction with them. The only way we would achieve that is if she lost her job and Casey would shoot us both if we made that happen. We’d lose any chance of her becoming our mate and living with us.”

  Iosefa was right. Their mate was a wildcat at times. She did not trust easily nor did she want help when it was needed. Casey was independent and strong. It was a blessing to have such a feisty mate but also a curse. How were they supposed to reach her when she refused to lower her guard and let them inside?

  Humming softly, Iosefa continued to play with their sleeping beauty’s hair with a look of contentment. Malik experienced a twinge of envy. His fingers ached to touch her, too.

  Casey had been asleep for over an hour when their phones vibrated. Malik eagerly freed his from his pocket and checked the text that Tobias had sent. Morgan had been found alive but was suffering from exposure. Cayden would check her at the Citadel as soon as Zac and Aiden had her readied. The message ended with Morgan knows.

  She knew. Knew what they were. Theirs was a secret no longer. She must have seen one or more of them in their true forms. Probably Zac and Aiden but who knew? They needed details as soon as they could get them.

  Morgan was already stressed. Seeing something that could be perceived as monstrous would be a frightening shock to her already-challenged system. The human mind could be fragile at times like these. She would need reassurance, patience, empathy.

  She needed time to process, to understand, to accept.

  Knowing Casey, as soon as she learned that Morgan had been rescued, she would demand to see her friend for herself—and too soon was not in Morgan’s best interest. She needed to prepare herself, get cleaned, dressed, examined, and settled before the whirlwind of Casey swept in.

  Malik looked at Iosefa. “We’ll let her awaken in half an hour. Convince her to drive us home. If she balks, we’ll let her know Morgan is there. Otherwise, we will tell her once we’ve arrived. She’ll worry longer, but we must consider the Higher Good. Morgan’s needs come first in this.”

  Iosefa hummed, “Agreed.”

  They broke the spell at midnight. She jackknifed awake and shoved away from Iosefa.

  “What the hell?” she snapped, scooting to the far side of the car. “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on? I told you two that you could take the back seat. What’s Sidepiece doing behind the wheel?”

  “You were tired,” Iosefa told her innocently. “You fell asleep as soon as you got to the car. Malik made sure that you didn’t fall. You’d worn yourself out, all the stress of the day. We stayed with you to keep you safe. We’ve missed watching over you, but our daily orders changed. If only someone could convince Tobias to let us patrol again…”

  “How do you feel?” Malik interjected. “You’ve been out of it.”

  Raking the hair out of her eyes, she huffed, “I’m fine. Now get out of my car. I can’t believe you let me sleep when Morgan is still out there. I need to go—now!”

  Malik relinquished his place behind the wheel. When Casey slid out of the back and got in the driver’s seat, he joined Iosefa in the back.

  “I told you to get out.” she grated, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

  “Can we at least have a lift to the Citadel? None of the buses will be running this late and it’s miles away.”

  Iosefa sounded forlorn.

  Casey rolled her eyes at them. “Sure. Whatever.”

  She didn’t waste time getting the car onto the road. As they zoomed towards a changing traffic light, her phone began to ring. Fumbling for it in her bag, she tried to keep her eyes on the road while she answered the call. “And where the hell did you guys vanish to?” she growled. “Swear to God, if I lose Morgan on the same day I lost my brother, I’m going to kick all of your fucking asses.”

  “It’s turning red,” Malik warned her.

  “Shut up, Malik!” Casey snapped, stomping her foot on the brake. They screeched to a halt halfway into the crosswalk.

  “Casey?”

  Malik shot a look at Iosefa when they both heard Morgan’s soft voice on the other end.

  The woman in the front seat tensed her shoulders, going rigid at the sound. “Morgan? Where the hell are you?”

  “The Citadel. I’m okay.”

  “Fuck,” Casey breathed. “I thought it was Aiden. For God’s sake, put me on speakerphone. I want to know what the hell is going on.”

  A horn honked in irritation behind them. The light was green. Tires squealed as she took off again.

  Malik gripped the headrest of the passenger seat. “Slow down.”

  “Casey, don’t drive distracted,” Morgan scolded lightly at the same time.

  A growl emanated from Casey’s throat in response. “That’s kind of hard with Stonewall and Jackson in the car. I swear, they’re like bad pennies y
ou just can’t get rid of. I’m coming to get you. I’ll drive you to the hospital myself.”

  “She’s under medical supervision and being treated here,” Aiden’s voice informed her from the other end of the phone.

  Casey snorted derisively, weaving through traffic like a driver at Daytona. “If you think I’m leaving her there…”

  “I want to stay,” Morgan insisted. “Cayden gave me a thorough examination. I’m not seriously hurt. Contusions on my wrist, dehydrated… Basically, I’m tired, hungry, and my nerves are shot.”

  “Morgan.” Casey’s tone was warning but her expression that Malik caught in the rearview mirror looked hurt. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Look, I called you to ask what you’ve told my brother. How much does my family know about all this? Am I going to set their minds at ease or give someone a heart attack?”

  “They know nothing,” Casey replied. “Christopher left a voicemail on the landline. When I found it, I checked your room. Instead of a friend with flu, I found your packed suitcases still sitting inside the door. Everything went to shit from there.”

  Morgan’s shaky breath was loud. “I’m so, so sorry, Casey. Look, it’s late. Go home. If you can swing by, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

  “Are you hungry?” Iosefa asked, putting just enough hum in his voice to quiet her for a moment. “We can do the diner… or we could go to your place and order in. If your apartment is too lonely, we can keep you company.”

  “Hang on. No, I don’t need company!” Casey grated, surprising them both.

  They looked at each other. Iosefa shrugged. Malik sensed a spike of fear and realized that her emotions were interfering with the effects of his partner’s voice. She should be purring, not lashing out like a wildcat and making fur fly. Feeling her distress made him want to hold her close. Tame her and show her that she wasn’t as alone as she viewed herself.

  “I don’t want your company,” she snarled. “If either you or Iosefa come within four feet of the apartment, I will shoot you. Look, Morgan, you still need to talk to the cops. I want to be there when you do.”