“I don’t want to talk about it,” she interrupted, guessing correctly the direction his question was heading.
“Fair enough.” He held his hands up. “But I’d like you to talk about your father with someone, Irisi.”
“I talk to Cimby about it.”
“Cimby won’t always be around.”
She stopped, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. “What does that mean? I know she left somewhere today, but she’s coming back, right?”
“Yes, as far as I know she just went for a drive.”
“As far as you know? As far as you know?” Her pitch became higher as her volume grew. “What does that mean? She said she wouldn’t leave me here alone.” Her chest began to heave and her breathing was choppy. She was going to make herself pass out if she didn’t stop. He knelt in front of her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and pulling the power of his dominance to the fore of his mind, letting it influence her panicked state.
“Irisi.” His voice flooded with power and she calmed instantly, lulled by his natural dominance. “Let me carry you to the Med Center.”
“Don’t want to look weak,” she mumbled, fighting the compulsion as much as she could. Damn, but the kid was strong.
“No one would ever think you weak. They wouldn’t dare.”
She fought a little longer, proving how strong she would be once she was healthy, but eventually he swept her up into his arms and carried over to the Med Center. He was an idiot for not doing it in the first place as Lottie was sure to tell him once he got there. Over and over.
“Alphar, the girl is on her last breath and you were running around The Mansion playing games with her?” Her frizzy red hair was held back by a bandana and the lab coat was too big for her skinny arms. Seeing the two redheaded emaciated women together he’d think they came from the same broken home. But Lottie’s illness was something only she could cure.
“We were shifted and just roaming The Mansion.” He combed his hands through his hair, looking down at the girl, worrying at everything that could have gone wrong while they were playing pranks on people, and wondering why he didn’t just bring her here for a checkup in the first place. As Lottie set up an IV and went to work examining Irisi, Kerrick sent Aaron and Rhiannon a text so they could alert Cimby of Irisi’s condition. Lottie drew blood and put it in a machine he knew would analyze it’s chemistry. Lottie didn’t speak as she worked, and neither did Kerrick. All he could do was be with the young girl, and he hated how helpless he felt. About an hour later, Lottie turned from her examinations and tests to face Kerrick with a frown.
“What is her animal? This scent is familiar but I can’t place it.” Lottie placed a hand on the girl’s forehead, closing her eyes and using some healing powers she’d learned to probe for abnormalities. Kerrick had seen her do it a thousand times since she’d first come to The Mansion.
“She’s a—”
“Raccoon,” Cimby said, running into the center and taking Irisi’s hand. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“She’s just exhausted,” Kerrick said as Lottie took her hand away and marked something on a chart. “I gave her a little push into sleep.”
“She’s also dehydrated and seriously malnourished. Do you have any other medical info on her?” Lottie asked Cymbeline as she jotted down some information on a chart. Irisi looked even smaller without those big eyes staring up at him.
“She’ll be sixteen on January 10th. Wereborn. Parents unknown. Had her tonsils removed when she was five. Adopted parents were humans.”
“Raccoons and other similar foraging species need more food than most shifters. We’re going to get her hydrated and feed her up. But she needs to eat every two hours until I say she can go back to regular meals. Understood? Someone needs to monitor this girl constantly to make sure she’s eating.” Lottie placed her hand over Irisi’s forehead and closed her eyes. Her hand glowed a subtle gold as she utilized a magic probe to sense any other abnormalities. “But all that still shouldn’t account for this level of stunted growth.” She looked at Cimby. “She’s fifteen? Are you sure?”
“Positive. I have her birth certificate. But can you look at something else for me?”
“Your face? Looks pretty nasty,” Lottie said bluntly, pointing at the mangled flesh with all the tact of a toddler.
“No, not me. She’s got some lash marks on her back. They’re mostly healed, but I just want to make sure they are healing properly.”
“Of course.” With Cimby’s help, Lottie gently turned Irisi onto her side so she could examine the marks. Her face paled and her jaw twitched as her fingers probed the marks, but other than those few tells, she was all professionalism in her examination. When she was done, she nodded at Cimby, slowly bringing Irisi’s body back to a prone position. “The scars do not look infected and, as far as I can see, are following a normal progression of healing for a shifter of her size and species.” Lottie grabbed the chart and jotted down a note. Her pen broke from squeezing it so hard and she angrily tossed it in the garbage. Lottie may have been ill, but her shifter strength hadn’t yet deserted her. “You sure you don’t want me to look at that?” Lottie pointed to Cimby’s face, retrieving another pen from her lab coat pocket.
“No. Thank you for your help.”
Kerrick pulled up one of the plastic folding chairs kept in the Med Center and nudged Cimby into it. He could smell whiskey on her breath but she was stone-cold sober. He’d have to get a report from Aaron and Rhiannon on what happened while they were out. He would ask her, but her receptiveness to him ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide.
“No thanks necessary, of course,” Lottie said, rubbing her chest. Kerrick noticed she’d been doing that more and more lately. “I’ll be back in a little bit to wake and feed her. Just let her rest for now.” Lottie patted Cimby on the shoulder before leaving the Med Center, heading to check up on her kids no doubt.
Kerrick pulled up his own plastic chair and sat on the other side of the bed, opposite Cimby. After a few moments he couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Where did you go while you were gone?”
“Didn’t your lap dogs tell you?” she asked quietly without even a hint of emotion, not lifting her eyes off Irisi’s sleeping face.
“I haven’t seen them since I sent them after you.”
“Are you going to have me followed all the time now, Alphar?”
“No.” He sighed, wishing this whole mating this wasn’t so complicated. “I wish I could do that so I knew you were safe. I wish I could wrap you in cotton and keep you in my bed to protect you. I know you don’t need my protection, Cimby. But that’s not going to stop me from wanting to give it to you. I’m going to—”
“Please stop,” she said quietly, resting her elbows on the bed and covering her face with her hands. “Just stop, Kerrick.”
“I can’t.” He leaned forward, voice soft so as not to disturb Irisi. “I won’t.”
“You can’t pick me.” She raised her eyes and the despair he saw nearly broke him. He’d never seen her usual confidence and put-on indifference fade so quickly. “Why would you want to? I’m not fit to be the mate of the Alphar.”
“I don’t need you to be the mate of the Alphar.” He reached over and gently laid his hand on top of Cimby’s resting on Irisi’s, the connection between the three of them stirring something deep inside his heart. “I need you to be my mate and the rest will work itself out. We’ll help each other learn what this whole thing means to us and what that changes.”
“I cannot stop being the Incendiary. You know you need me to be that for your people. I cannot get close to those I am supposed to hunt down and kill.”
“You’re right. We do need the Incendiary. But I need you too. And even though I’m sure you’re denying it constantly in that stubborn head of yours, you need me as well. I’m not giving up on this. Anyw
ay,” he said, lifting his hand to stroke Irisi’s beautiful head. “This young woman needs you here, you really going to desert her?”
“Nice,” she said with a huff, leaning back against her chair and crossing her arms. Kerrick wasn’t fooled by the attitude though, he could see her small smile. “Guilt trip me into staying, use Iri as leverage. I’m sure that will really prove my love and devotion to you. I don’t deny that I need you. I knew I needed you that night we ran together. What I want is for you to see me as an equal, Kerrick, but I also want everyone else to fear me so I can do my job. You can’t tell me that the Alphar’s mate isn’t supposed to be congenial and sweet and charming and—”
He held his hand up to stop her babbling. Now he knew where Irisi got it. “Makar Borisov is the Alphar of Russia. His mate’s name is Valeriya. Valeriya has a temper. If someone displeases her, she likes to bite their fingers off.”
“Russians are crazy.” Cimby shrugged, as if that were an excuse for biting people’s fingers off.
“Shifters are crazy. Our mates are crazy and it is okay. That’s why we love them.”
“Are you calling me crazy?”
“No. I’m saying you can be whatever you want to be, whoever you want to be…with me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re mine.” He looked over Irisi’s peaceful face. “So is this one. I like her. She played pranks with me. You know what’s great about being a Raccoon?”
“What?” Cimby asked with a chuckle. Her smile made his Beast purr in contentment, they liked making their mate smile.
“Those nifty little hands hold glue bottles pretty damn well.”
Cimby’s burst of laughter sounded like a symphony of angels.
After a couple of hours sitting at Irisi’s bedside and talking with Kerrick about everything and nothing, Lottie came back to check on the girl.
“Okay, Alphar,” Lottie said, shuffling in on a pair of crocks and rubbing her eyes. “Let’s wake her up and feed her. When was the last time she ate?”
“I know she ate before we got to The Mansion, she had a frostie and some fries.” At Kerrick’s raised eyebrows Cimby smiled, familiar with the reaction to the odd treat. “She likes to dip salty fries in the sweet frosties.”
“Do you like that?” Kerrick asked, placing his hand over Irisi’s chest to call her back from sleep.
“I have been known to indulge in some unhealthy food combinations every now and then.”
“Only because I force you,” Irisi muttered, raising her hand to rub her eyes. Once fully awake she looked at Kerrick with narrowed eyes and a disgruntled groan. “You hypnotized me.”
“No, I simply gave your body what it already desperately needed.” Cimby’s heart squeezed tight as Kerrick set a large hand to rest on Irisi’s head, the girl sighing deeply, relaxing farther into the pillows. Whatever Kerrick had said or done with her while Cimby was out dealing with her tantrum, it had earned Irisi’s trust. It had taken nearly a year for the young girl to trust Cimby and Kerrick had managed it in a few hours.
“You could have warned me,” Irisi grumbled.
“Don’t you know, child?” he asked, puffing his chest out like a preening peacock. “I’m the Alphar, I can do whatever I like.”
“All right enough of that,” Lottie said, pulling up a stool and checking Irisi’s vitals. “Your pulse has slowed, thank goodness. You were having quite the panic attack before, even after Kerrick put your body to sleep. You are going to drink this entire thing.” Lottie handed her a giant plastic cup topped with a straw and cap. “I will come back and make sure you drank all of it. I have three young boys so don’t think you can pull anything over me and try to dump some in the sink. I will know.”
“What is it?” Irisi asked, taking the cap off the cup to sniff the contents.
“Fruit smoothie enhanced with essential vitamins and nutrients. We are also going to be giving you vitamins every day. No excuses. I’m doing various tests on the blood I took earlier.”
“Tests?” Cimby asked.
“Well, our kind doesn’t get sick but there are strands of Hep C and tuberculosis we can get, along with other shifter-based diseases.”
“Hep C?” Cimby asked, fisting her hand in the covers at Irisi’s hips. “Why do you think she has that?”
“I don’t,” Lottie said absentmindedly, marking down something on Irisi’s chart. “It’s just a precaution from that tattoo on her hip.” She raised an eyebrow at Irisi with a very mom-like look. “Too young for that, missy.”
“What tattoo?” Cimby asked, standing and staring down at Irisi. How could she have missed a tattoo?
“The one on my hip.” Irisi tapped the spot in question. “It’s been there for as long as I can remember.”
“Did you ever ask your father about it?”
“You think I went out of my way to speak to him?” Iri asked with an incredulous scoff, biting the end of the smoothie straw.
“Let me see.” Cimby gestured at Irisi’s body, a sense of urgency taking over her instincts. This was important.
“Cimby,” Irisi whined.
“Now.”
Lottie and Cimby removed the sheet and Irisi lifted her T-shirt on her left side. Cimby pulled down her shorts just enough to see the black tattoo. It was sparse, and poorly done. There was scarring a shifter should have been able to heal. In reality, a shifter shouldn’t have been able to get a tattoo unless it was magically spelled to overcome the healing process or to fuck with it. She traced her hand over the mark marring Irisi’s pale skin. Two sticks crossed each other like an X. One had a curved top, the other had what looked like a tassel.
“This looks familiar,” Kerrick said, leaning over her shoulder to get a look.
“It’s Osiris.” Iri supplied, gaining their attention. She looked uncomfortable, having this many eyes on her body.
“What?” Lottie asked, sounding alarmed.
“It’s the symbol for the cult of Osiris.”
“The cult your dad was in?” Cimby asked.
“Wait, I thought you said he was a religious zealot.” Kerrick pulled back up to a standing position, crossing his arms and frowning at Cimby.
“He was, I just didn’t say which religion,” Cimby said, not allowing herself to get annoyed by his tone.
“He put this on you,” Lottie said, examining the mark. She put her nose against Irisi’s skin and breathed deep, user her shifter senses to aid in detecting the magic. “It looks stretched, like it’s warped as you grew.”
“Well, I didn’t grow much.”
“Something that we are going to fix,” Lottie reassured her with a smile and pointed to the smoothie. “Keep drinking.”
“I want this off her,” Cimby said, feeling angry and helpless. What was most likely sucking Irisi’s energy had been right in front of her face all these years. How had she missed it? “Can we get it off her? Is that okay, Iri?”
“No complaints here,” the teenager said as she sipped on the thick smoothie.
“We’ll have to cut it off,” Lottie said to Irisi with a wince in sympathy. “I’ll numb you and put you under. If that is what is preventing your normal rate of growth, then it is of magical origins and will most likely scar.”
“Bring Zach in to inspect the tattoo before you remove it,” Kerrick said, a hint of angry authority in his tone. Cimby could see Kerrick had become as captivated by Irisi as Cimby when she first met her, and she couldn’t blame him. There was just something about the young girl that drew you to her, made you want to take her side.
“Got it,” Lottie said, dialing in a command on the wall-mounted touchpad.
“Cimby,” Kerrick started and Cimby could already hear how that particular tone was going to bug the hell out of her. “You should have Lottie look at your face.”
“I don’t need her to.”
“So you want to lo
ok like Quasimodo the rest of your life?” Irisi asked, attempting and failing to look innocent.
“It’s not quite as bad as all that and yes, maybe I do want to look like Quasimodo. He was strong as shit. Now finish your drink, pest.”
“At least go get some rest,” Irisi said after a particularly loud slurp of the smoothie. “You look pretty terrible, scar not included in that observation.”
“This coming from the bedridden teenager?”
“I’ll make sure she gets rest,” Kerrick said to Irisi with an overly obnoxious wink, placing his hand on Cimby’s shoulder.
“Doubt it.” Irisi snorted into her smoothie.
“See? Pest.” But despite her words, Cimby leaned forward and placed a kiss on Irisi’s forehead, nuzzling the red peach fuzz with a shifter kind of affection.
“I’m sorry for lying about my age, Cimby,” Irisi said, sounding small and regretful once more. Cimby stroked her fuzzy head with a sigh.
“Do not worry about that. We will talk about it later. Get some rest.”
“I’ll tell you the results of our escapades tomorrow,” Kerrick said to Irisi with another wink, this one slightly less obnoxious. He entwined his fingers with Cimby’s and she swallowed hard at the feel of his skin on hers, all the lust she’d held at bay coming crashing down on her in a barely contained tidal wave.
Chapter Sixteen
Kerrick pulled Cimby from the Med Center with a final wave at Irisi and Lottie. They walked hand in hand through the hallways, listening to the various sounds The Mansion made at night. A child laughing. A couple conversing about their day. A group of people watching some TV.
“Cimby, you’re going to squeeze my hand off,” Kerrick said with a chuckle to pull her out of her thoughts.
“Sorry.” She took her hand away.
“What are you thinking of?”
“Everything and nothing,” she said with a shrug, her facial expression not as closed off as he was used to it being.
“Come with me? I want to show you something.” He took her hand again and guided her to the roof. It took about ten minutes to get there at a steady walk and he had to lead her through a major segment of The Mansion. Kerrick nodded and greeted the soldiers they passed along the way, making their rounds. Whenever one would recognize Cimby they would not only bow in deference to Kerrick’s position but salute her as well, word of her training session having traveled through the grapevine. Kerrick couldn’t help but laugh after the fifth salute. She looked like she wanted to vomit.
To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 Page 21