To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1
Page 20
“Extreme defensive? That’s a thing?”
“Apparently.”
“I’m texting Jeremiah to look into a trainer for extreme defensive driving,” he said to Rhiannon gleefully.
“I don’t buy it.” Rhiannon said, lifting a perfectly waxed eyebrow at her and ignoring Aaron. “I see the ‘I am an emotional black hole’ thing you put on in front of us, but Kerrick wouldn’t be pursuing you so ardently if he wasn’t getting anything in return. Also the whole saving a child and bringing her to the compound thing gives you away. You, my odd friend, have emotions.”
“Of course I have emotions, but Irisi is a special case. And we are not friends.”
“See?” Aaron pointed at Cimby. “She’s not even upset that we called her an emotionless black hole. She must be a robot.”
Cimby looked him dead in the eye, tilting her head to the side quizzically. “Was I supposed to care what you think?”
A bottle of top-shelf whiskey slammed on the table in front of her. “On him, wolfy,” the old woman said, nodding her head towards Aaron. The bartender must be a powerful Mage if she could sense what sort of shifter Cimby was.
“Nooo, Uma, please!” Aaron begged, getting a look at the price on the bottle. “I swear I’ll behave.”
“You that cheap, Aaron? Where’s Kerrick? I doubt the Alphar will be happy to hear his lap dog is loafin’ around my place without buyin’ anything.”
“Don’t call Kerrick, Uma. I’ll buy it.” He gave her a credit card and as she walked away muttered, “Crazy woman.”
“How are you in any position of power within shifter society?” Cimby asked, shaking her head and worrying about the fate of the shifter population in the hands of this bonehead.
“Don’t get me wrong, Cymbeline, my cousin is a class A idiot,” Rhiannon said, frowning at Aaron’s antics. “But he is an idiot who knows what the fuck he’s doing when it comes to our people. And so does Kerrick.”
“You aren’t going to change my mind on any of this,” Cimby said, staring at the back of the bar without seeing it. “Did he tell you what he said to me?”
“No, but I bet it was something along the lines of ‘I Man, You woman. Man protect woman. Woman breed children and get used as sex slave’.”
“Close enough.”
“He’s in the midst of mating, Ms. Incendiary. Of course he’s going to act like a caveman. The great part though?” Her face lit up with a mischievous glee and Cimby finally saw how Aaron and Rhiannon could be related. “You get to act like a caveman as well. You get to stake your claim on him and any action you take to get that point across really gets shrugged off after the mating is complete.”
“Is that why none of you said anything about the cuffs? That was…”
“Turned you on, didn’t it?” Aaron asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Uma the bartender smacked him upside the head as she walked behind him. “Sorry, Uma.”
“Oh, we said something,” Rhiannon went on. “Especially after you’d been with us a couple days and we could clearly see you weren’t a threat though the verdict is still out on crazy.”
“Rhiannon,” Aaron said with a tortured groan, “must our Alphar have no secrets?”
“To us, he’s family before he’s Alphar,” said Rhiannon with a certain levity that was nice to hear after Aaron’s barbs and jokes. “But that doesn’t stop him from acting on his Alphar instincts. He’s the most dominant Were in our country by right. It would have been odd if he didn’t act this way.”
“The most dominant and therefore the most overprotective.” It made sense. Dominants were, at the base of their nature, protective of their people. Having a mate took that need to protect to a whole new level. “He should have a mate who needs to be protected. I’m not some flighty weakling looking for coddling.”
“No,” Rhiannon said, slamming her beer down on the table. “The Alphar needs a mate with strength, someone who can challenge him and knows how to work with the people.”
“I’m not exactly a people person.”
“You inspired our soldiers to work harder than they have ever worked with just one day of training. And they don’t even resent you for beating the shit out of them,” Aaron disagreed with a chortling laugh. “They admire you and aspire to be as good as you.”
Cimby downed the second glass of whiskey, feeling stressed and hedged in by their insistence. “I’m not for him. He’s not for me.”
“Why?” Rhiannon asked simply. “What proof do you have that it won’t work out?”
“It’s none of your business,” Cimby said, placing her glass on the bar calmly, not giving in to Rhiannon’s questioning.
“He’s our Alphar and our kin, hell yes it’s our business. Now answer my damn question.”
“This conversation is over.” Cimby stood and threw some cash down on the bar, not actually expecting Aaron to pay for her drinks.
“Sit your ass down, woman,” Rhiannon hissed, standing and facing Cimby. “I love Kerrick like a brother and I will not watch his mate walk away from him without even bothering to try.”
Cimby looked her dead in the eye with a smile, itching for a fight. “Make me.”
Rhiannon’s growl was Cimby’s only warning, but it was enough. Rhiannon launched at her. Cimby stood in wait until the woman was within range. She grabbed Rhiannon by her hair mid jump and slammed her facedown into the wooden floor.
“You think you can take me, Lieutenant?”
Rhiannon dug her claws into Cimby’s hand, burrowing into her skin until blood leaked down her fingers. Cimby gritted her teeth and held on tighter, tugging Rhiannon’s hair harder and slamming the woman’s thick head back into the floor.
“You may be an uppity, well-trained assassin, but I have a few tricks of my own, bitch.” Cimby flew back as though she’d been punched in the chest by an invisible giant, slamming into the far wall. She got to her feet quickly, ignoring the ringing in her head. Rhiannon stood with her hands on her hips, looking way too cocky for her own good.
“You have magic,” Cimby said. “I am almost impressed.”
“You’re lookin’ dazed over there, robot,” Rhiannon taunted, cracking her neck and flipping her hair like she was in a shampoo commercial. “Need a little rest?”
“I’m fine, but thank you for the concern.” Before she finished her sentence Cimby jumped, flipping over Rhiannon and landing behind her. She kicked the bitch’s legs out from under her and placed her foot at her neck. When Rhiannon tried to jump up without the assistance of magic Cimby knew the girl was a one-trick pony, with only enough power for a one off until she recharged.
Cimby slammed her body down on Rhiannon, using her feet to keep the woman’s legs immobile and her hands to hold down her wrists. Rhiannon struggled and grappled, but Cimby just stared at her, expressionless.
“This would be my ultimate fantasy if I wasn’t related to you, Rhi,” Aaron called from his stool at the bar, content to just watch and drink his beer. Smart man.
“What goes on between Kerrick and me is our business and no one else’s,” Cimby hissed. “Stop sticking your nose in it.”
“That’s not how a pack works, you crazy bitch. I won’t stop. Neither will any of his friends or family when we see how miserable he’s been since the day he met you. Your animals, your spirits chose each other. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
That gave Cimby pause. She cared for Kerrick and did not want to hurt him. Denying him was her way of trying to protect him and his people. The job she’d been trained to do since birth. Becoming his mate would go against everything she was ever taught. She was never supposed to make connections. She was never supposed to make friends. And she most certainly was never supposed to mate. Caring for Irisi as she had over the past few years already placed her way out of bounds. No. She would not allow it to happen, no matter how much it hurt knowing she would b
e causing Kerrick pain. In the end he and his people would be better off without her.
“No,” she said quietly, removing herself from Rhiannon and helping the woman up. She didn’t have any fight left in her.
“So Aaron’s right about you? Kerrick just had the shit luck to get saddled with an emotionless robot?” Rhiannon asked incredulously. Her arms flailing out to the side, her face flushed with anger.
Cimby didn’t respond to the taunt. She just stared, letting Rhiannon make her own assumptions.
“He deserves better than you.” With that statement Rhiannon called for Aaron to follow her and walked out of the bar. Cimby sat back on her stool, listening as their SUV started and rolled onto the main street that would return them to the highway.
“Mated to the Alphar, huh?” Uma said, sliding the full bottle of whiskey Cimby’s way. Cimby remained silent again, not in the mood for conversation or for being social. She raised the bottle with a nod to the woman in thanks, and began to chug. “Why won’t you be with him? He’s pretty good lookin’.”
“Aren’t you a lesbian?” Cimby asked on a deep inhalation as her throat burned from the half bottle of alcohol she just chugged.
“Nah, she just likes to bust Aaron’s balls,” the man from the end of the bar said as he came to sit next to Cimby. He wore a red flannel shirt and jeans, and though his skin was aged with old scars and beginning to wrinkle, she could easily see the sparkle of youth in his eyes. He must have been quite the hellion in his day. But beyond the pleasant smile, through the scars littering his worn face, Cimby could tell this man had seen years of battles. And still, something tugged at her senses about the man, something familiar.
“As her mate, I can personally attest to her not being a lesbian.”
“Well, there was that one time in college,” Uma muttered with a wink at her mate as she passed through a door leading to the back of the bar.
He watched her walk off with a smile before offering Cimby his hand. “Name’s Reggie.”
“You’re a Fox,” she said, shaking his hand briefly.
“That I am, Wolf. I’d appreciate if you didn’t eat me.”
“I will not make any promises.”
“Listen, I don’t know what you got going on in your life makin’ you think you can’t mate with the Alphar,” Reggie began. “But let me tell you this. All those faults you think you have, all the dangers you might think come with mating, with permanently connecting your life to another person, once you’re his and he’s yours, none of it matters anymore.”
“Why? Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because you’re not alone anymore, darlin’.” The man poured her a shot from the whiskey bottle and saluted before taking a swig. “It’s all worth the crap you go through at the initial mating.”
“Thanks but there are extenuating circumstances. It’s not as easy as it seems.” Cimby stood from the stool, thinking a drive around the mountains and a quick run might benefit her state of mind.
“It never is when an Incendiary falls in love.”
She paused, her heart pounding in her ears and her senses on high alert, as if the world had slowed down and there was only this man in her sights. He just sat there with a knowing look, running his finger along the edge of the whiskey glass.
“Who are you?” she asked, sitting back down and giving the man her full attention.
“I was like you once, not too long ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“How is it impossible? What do you think happens to Incendiaries when they retire?”
“Retiring means death.”
“Maybe under Riddan’s rule it did.” Reggie poured them both another drink, his eyes seeing something far away as he took a sip. “In other territories Incendiaries are honored, given luxury and great respect when they’re not huntin’.” He turned back to her. “Here they’re diminished to scary bedtime stories. It’s embarrasin’.”
“Were you the one before me?”
“Nah, that was some other hotshot. He couldn’t control himself too well, but he loved workin’ for Riddan. They were best buds, torturing and killin across the country, probably where the evil bedtime stories came from.”
“What happened to him?” Cimby was intrigued to learn about the Incendiary before her.
“Riddan had to kill him. He was startin’ to go off and find his own missions. He let the berserker take over too much and it consumed him.” Reggie clapped Cimby on her shoulder as he stood. She was stunned to meet another Incendiary, and a former Incendiary at that. A mated man who seemed to be in complete control of himself and most importantly, he seemed happy. Content with his life.
“How did you get here?” she asked, gesturing around the bar.
“I met Uma and everything changed. I was like you, keepin’ to my training and bottling it all up, but she wouldn’t let me keep it in, neither would my animal as it recognized its mate. Don’t throw the Alphar away, girl. You’re young. You haven’t been Incendiary long and you need to keep doin’ it. But you also need to have a mate or else you’ll lose yourself like the one before you did.”
“I’m more careful about letting the berserker out.”
“It’s not about being careful, Incendiary. It’s about having someone to balance you, just as the Alphar needs someone to balance him.”
“But I can’t—”
“Cymbeline!” Aaron called, bursting through the bar doors as he rushed back into the bar, his phone clutched in his hand. “Iri’s collapsed.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kerrick followed Irisi out of Aaron’s rooms and rounded the corner, nudging her fluffy side to make the right that would lead back to the front lawn. Spending the past couple hours with her had been enjoyable. The girl was intrinsically Raccoon, on every level. She thrived on mischief and Kerrick couldn’t help but get lost in the silly pranks he helped her play on the people in The Mansion. She’d been nervous around him at first, but after that first hour she’d loosened up and begun to lead the pranking mission herself.
He took her back outside and found the pile of clothes she’d left on the lawn folded neatly on a chair near a secluded side patio. Kerrick shifted back from the Raccoon form he’d chosen and waved at Zach in thanks for moving her clothes. He could smell the young techie on them. Zach waved back with a salute, still tinkering away at the gate. Kerrick waited for her to dress before speaking again.
“You’re a little too good at that stuff, you know,” he said with a wink. “Should I be nervous?”
Her hand moved toward her head then jerked down again, as if she’d forgotten she could no longer run her fingers through long tresses. “It’s fun,” was all she said, looking over at Zach. He caught her watching and waved with a smile. She looked away quickly, a sweet blush staining her cheeks.
“How old are you, Irisi?” Kerrick asked, gesturing toward a couple wicker chairs for them to sit in.
“Ten,” she said, sitting with her legs folded on the chair.
He nodded at her answer, watching her stare out over the lawn at Zach. “I want you to be able to trust me, Irisi.”
“If Cimby trusts you, then I can trust you,” she said with a frown, turning haunted eyes to him.
He grinned and said, “That’s a loaded statement, and you know it.” Cimby was a tough nut to crack and earning her trust would take more than a mating to accomplish. “You also should know that most of the older Weres have the ability to sense or smell a lie. I’m sure Cimby was trained to do it and I would like to teach you how to do it for your own safety. But first I need to trust you.”
She froze, understanding him. Her hands began to shake and tears pooled in her eyes. “You think she can do that? Smell a lie?”
“I know she can. How old are you, Irisi?” His voice was gentle but stern. Kerrick would not allow this child to think she could skat
e past him. In the short time he’d spent with her as Raccoon, his Alphar power sensed the wrongness in her body. The sickness. She needed help, but in order for him to help her, he needed her honesty.
She sniffed, looking down at her hands as she twisted them. “I know there’s something wrong with me. I still look like a kid.”
He got up from his chair and knelt in front of her, his heart breaking for her as his large hands cupped her face and wiped the tears away. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart. Please answer my question.”
“Fifteen,” she cried, big hiccupping sobs breaking the word up into three syllables. Kerrick pulled her close and she wrapped her skinny arms around his neck, the wetness from her tears rolling over his skin. He stroked her bony back and her peach-fuzzed head.
“We just need to feed you properly and figure out why your growth patterns are abnormal. It’ll be okay.” Kerrick rose with Irisi in his arms, the tiny thing couldn’t weigh more than seventy pounds. She cried silently as he carried her into The Mansion. Once he closed the door she seemed to come back to herself and scrambled from his arms.
“I can walk,” she said, sounding like the teenager she actually was. A fifteen-year-old girl who looked five years younger. She must be miserable.
“Hey, attitude,” he laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Cimby.”
“The other options were worse. Where are we going?”
“Medical center. We’re going to have them give you a checkup and feed you the biggest meal you’ve ever had.”
“I ate when I first got here.”
“Well, you’re gonna eat more. A lot more. And get used to it. We’re putting you on a diet of steak, milkshakes and cake to bring you up to weight and get you growing.”
“I don’t want to get fat,” she whined, scrunching up her face in disgust and wrapping her arms around her tiny waist.
“It’s nearly impossible for Raccoon shifters to get fat. It might be why you haven’t developed yet. Your body processes food at such a high rate, what little you’ve been eating has been singularly dedicated to keeping your body alive. Did your father—”