Kerrick nodded his head at the men and women entrusted with the care of his people. “Meeting adjourned. Aaron and Jeremiah will be in touch shortly for where to send your people. Leah, I want an update by then on the financial angle.”
All the screens winked out. “Alphane,” Leah said as she winked at him, playful as always. Cimby growled beneath her breath. Leah nodded in deference to Cimby before removing herself from the room. Aaron, Jeremiah, Zach and Rhiannon followed, leaving Kerrick and Cimby alone in the room.
Cimby turned to Kerrick, smiling grimly. She shook her head and placed her mouth on his shoulder, nibbling gently for comfort. Kerrick stroked her hair and tilted his head towards her ear, nibbling on the shell. He felt her shiver and bite down hard over the fabric of his button-up shirt. Kerrick wedged his hands into her hair and pulled her face back, making her look at him.
“How do you know Carter, mate?” he asked, letting a hint of danger penetrate his tone. Cimby snorted. She pulled away from him and had the audacity to laugh.
“Are you jealous of Carter?” she asked incredulously, nipping his cheek as it turned red with frustration.
“Cimby, if there has ever been anything between you and Carter—”
“Stop!” Her hand found his mouth and Kerrick growled. “Kerrick, I am fifty-nine years old. I was not a blushing virgin when we first slept together.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Carter and I have run into each other when I’ve been on missions. He’s helped me out of some tight spots and I’ve returned the favor a few times.”
“Have you fucked him?”
“What? Where is this coming from?”
“Have you fucked the Vryk?”
“Yes!” she yelled back. “It was once and—”
Kerrick pushed her to the hardwood floor and tore her jeans open. She moaned loudly as he thrust his fingers into her warmth, her hands clutched his arms and he felt sharp claws tearing the fabric of his shirt apart. Kerrick pumped his fingers in and out, showing no mercy, feeling the glorious wetness dripping around his fingers. Her eyes glowed and she bit her bottom lip in confused ecstasy. She may not have been a virgin when she first came to him but he would make her feel so good she would never want or think of another man. It was a supremely chauvinistic and machismo point of view but Cimby was his. Kerrick didn’t want to hear about past lovers, even if he had dug a hole for himself and asked. He would only ever allow his lips to touch hers for the rest their lives.
Kerrick growled, removing his hand and grinning when she groaned in annoyance for taking away her pleasure. Her hands moved to his pants and she helped him undo the zipper—rip the zipper would be a more accurate description.
She took Kerrick’s shaft, now hard as stone, and brought the tip down to her opening. Kerrick hesitated, torturing her, almost wanting her to beg for him to enter her. But his mate didn’t beg. She demanded.
“Get inside me now or I’m going to call someone else’s name every time I come.” Kerrick laughed roughly and pushed inside her.
The sex was hard and quick, what they both needed with the coming battle looming over them. After a while she pushed him onto his back to straddle him. He relished her moans of pleasure as she rode him just as fiercely as he had her. When she came his mate moaned the word mine and Kerrick joined her some ecstasy-filled seconds later.
She bent over and kissed him, biting his lower lip.
“You were saying?” Kerrick asked and she laughed. Her shirt had remained intact while his was a shredded mess. Both their pants were unsalvageable, strewn about the room.
“You are a caveman, you know that?”
“No, love. I’m just a dominant Alphar.” Kerrick stroked her tangled hair and they remained locked together for a moment. He liked the feeling of just lying with her, spent, his cock inside her. Her muscles clenched with spasms and he smiled in a pride that could only be described as male.
“Kerrick,” she started hesitantly, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“Don’t worry. I won’t kill him. I may never like him but I know he’s necessary.” Cimby kissed him again, making him smile with a joy so fierce he thought it would consume him.
She pulled back, eyeing him in a predatory way. “You are as much mine as I am yours, understand? Which means I get to go all territorial on your ass when I hear something I don’t like. Or meet any of your former lovers.”
“I would apologize for my behavior, but I would be lying.” She rolled her eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows in that way he knew she hated. “Lady Wolf, your ass will be the only one I think of for the rest of my life.” A chiming laugh rang out from her beautiful lips at the same time a blush crept along her cheeks. Kerrick kissed each one in turn. “Good?”
She nodded and her head reclaimed its place on his shoulder. He kissed her nose and circled her waist with his arms, holding her close.
“So let us chat about the little matter of us having a telepathic link that you oh so conveniently forgot to mention.” He decided it would be prudent to not respond to that comment, but distract her with kisses and loving once more.
Chapter Nineteen
Cymbeline faced the weapon-laden desk with a critical eye. There was a good amount available left to fit in the duffel bag at her feet and she wanted it to be fully stocked. She had already packed a fair amount of smaller firearms with extra clips, but she had not yet focused on the close-contact weapons. Picking up a shiny and well-balanced stiletto knife, one of her favorites, she tested the sharpness of the blade with the tip of her thumb. That vicious and carefully concealed heart of violence within her was pleased to see the small drop of blood well with little to no pressure from the blade, the creature inside her was closer to the surface than ever before. It felt the tension of the upcoming battle and Cymbeline knew she and her Wolf would have to work double time to keep it contained.
Cymbeline sucked the blood off her finger and cleaned the blade with a rag she’d rested over her shoulder, returning it to its previous luster. She slipped the thin knife into a leather sheathe, repeated the process with its mate, and packed the weapons into the duffel bag with all the other items. Irisi, resting on the bed behind Cimby, burst out laughing.
“Cimby, I’m going to Canada, not to war,” she said once her breathy chuckles had subsided. Irisi shook her head at what Cimby thought was a barely efficient weaponry supply for the girl’s trip. She wanted Irisi to be well protected, and while she trusted Michael and Zach to guard her proficiently, there was no harm in the girl being well supplied. Cimby had to admit the amount of anxiety she was feeling towards Irisi’s trip was not helping her keep calm and focus on the upcoming battle. Supplying Irisi with an amalgamation of weapons would help to ease her worries, if only a little bit.
“We’ll be back in a few days once you and your mate have finished kicking ass,” Irisi teased, reaching out with a gesture for Cimby to come over to the bed. Lottie had determined it would be safe enough to move Irisi to her new room in Kerrick’s wing, her wing. Their wing. Cimby had not yet come to terms with having a wing of her own yet. But it did sooth Cymbeline’s nerves to have Irisi nearby, instead of continuously rising in the middle of the night and walking to the opposite end of The Mansion to check on her, as she would have done every night if Kerrick hadn’t suggested moving her. It was a pleasure to see more color in Irisi’s cheeks but that was the only positive change Cimby could identify. Irisi still looked emaciated and exhausted.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Irisi huffed, taking Cimby’s hand with a weak squeeze once she’d neared the bed.
“Like what?” Cimby asked nonchalantly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am only looking. I cannot look at you?”
“Not like that. You know I don’t like your pitying frowns. Zach said he’s close to figuring out how to remove the tattoo without any weird magical side effects, and Lottie said the vitamins are helping to regulate my
system. See? I’m getting better.”
“I know.” Cimby rubbed a hand over Irisi’s fuzzy head, loving the feel of the soft bristles. “I will feel better once that tattoo is gone completely.” And she had hunted and destroyed the lives of those who had any hand in hurting Irisi. “They are sure that is what is sapping your energy?”
“Zach is sure,” Irisi said with a slight blush to her cheeks. Cymbeline grinned at the young girl’s obvious crush. She’d heard Zach had been spending a lot of time with Irisi in the hospital, keeping her company. Kerrick thought the young man had grown inordinately protective of the Raccoon and felt it his responsibility to look out for her. Another among Irisi’s frequent visitors was Evan and his little brothers. He had come the past day or so to read and talk about the various comics or manga he’d acquired. To have these shifters welcome her so seamlessly into the flow of The Mansion settled a deep worry within Cymbeline’s heart. Irisi would be okay. They would remove the damn tattoo and she would be okay.
“Well, if Zach is sure, then everyone else should just shut up and listen, shouldn’t we?” She poked Irisi in the side, teasing her. Irisi scoffed in a teenage way that just looked bratty on her ten-year-old frame. She looked relaxed and rested, or as rested as she could be in her condition. This was probably as good a time as any to have a heart-to-heart about what she and Kerrick had discussed during their flight back. The unfamiliar pile of nerves in her belly increased their rickety fluttering as Cimby swallowed hard, preparing for whatever answer Irisi would give. But Kerrick was right, she couldn’t wait until after the battle. Cimby was confident in her skills and Kerrick’s power, but if for some reason they didn’t come back, she needed Irisi to know that she was loved and that Cymbeline would never willingly desert her again.
“Iri, I know this probably isn’t the best time. Really I wanted to wait to discuss this with you after you healed completely but Kerrick insisted and he is very much in favor of this course of action—”
“You’re babbling. This is too fun. Can we video this? Are you about to have the talk with me? If yes, then I really want to video it.”
“Will you quit it, pest?” Cymbeline said, her nerves beginning to combine with agitation at Irisi’s incessant ribbing.
“Then just say it already!” Irisi laughed, flopping her hands on the bed in an exaggerated gesture of annoyance.
“Kerrick and I want to adopt you, you nuisance!” Cymbeline blurted out then clamped her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes closed tight at the horrible way she approached that.
“What?” Irisi asked quietly. Cimby opened her eyes to see the girl looking at her in slack-jawed confusion. “Why would you—why would he—”
Cimby took her hand once more, her protective instincts flaring as she felt the girl shaking. “Why would we not? I’m staking a claim on you, pest. You’re mine, and since it seems that I’m never getting rid of Kerrick, you’re his as well.”
“So he is only agreeing to this because it’s what you want?”
“No. But trust me, you’ll wish that was the reason when you realize how protective he is. Kerrick has become rather fond of you since you two went on your pranking excursion. He thinks you are quite wonderful. As do I, but of course that goes without saying.”
“Of course.” They smiled awkwardly before Cimby continued.
“Sorry for yelling it at you but, Irisi, would you like it if Kerrick and I formally adopted you? I mean, I know we’re not the ideal parents for a teen, and I’m—”
“An assassin?” She raised her eyes knowingly, now that she was fully aware of the reason Cimby had to disappear frequently during their acquaintance.
“Yes. Yes, not quite the perfect role model. And there will be a lot of eyes on us as the family of the North American Alphar. Oh, and fair warning, I am going to take every opportunity to turn that attention off me and onto you. You’re much more personable with your Southern charm and sad attempts at banjo playing.”
“Please, Cimby, try not to be too flattering,” Irisi said sarcastically, holding up her hands in a mock feint. “Kerrick said he’d help me learn. Did you see all those instruments in his room?”
“I know. He loves to play. You don’t have to answer right now,” Cimby said. “I just, wanted you to think about it.”
“I don’t need to think about it.”
“No?”
“No. But before I give you my official answer, can I ask you something serious?”
“Of course,” Cimby said, preparing herself for the worst.
“Do I have to call you and Kerrick Mommy and Daddy now? Because that would be weird.”
“Pest.” Cimby laughed, tugging Irisi into a tight hug and breathing in the girl’s scent. To Cymbeline, she would always smell like late-night fires in their meadow, roasting marshmallows and eating their fill of Carolina barbeque. Cymbeline had such a wall around her heart before meeting Irisi, and she knew if it hadn’t been for the little Raccoon making her own dent in that wall, Kerrick would never have been successful in his endeavor to claim her.
Irisi pushed away from the hug and looked up at Cymbeline, a dazzling mist of rare tears filling the girl’s yellow-green eyes. “You have been more of a parent to me than I’ve ever really known, at least since my mom died. I didn’t know what was gonna happen when we came here.” She smiled through the tears, gripping Cimby’s shoulder with a childlike fervor. “But I knew you wouldn’t give me up, I’m too awesome.”
“That’s the first thing we’re going to work on. No child of mine is going to have a fat head.”
“Well,” said a deep voice from the doorway. “All I’m going to do is spoil you.” They both turned to see Kerrick leaning against the door jam, arms crossed and smiling at the scene they’d made. Cimby felt her face heat, and she was amused to see a similar reaction in Irisi’s expression.
“I can already see the therapy hours I’ll need from the conflicting parenting styles,” Irisi joked, trying to make light of the situation when Cymbeline could clearly see she needed some type of affirmation from Kerrick that this was what he wanted as well, no matter how Cymbeline had already tried to reassure her.
Luckily, for both women it would turn out, Kerrick was a perceptive man. He came over to the bed and settled his large frame on the mattress next to Irisi, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. Cymbeline nearly succumbed to the embarrassing pressure of emotions upon seeing the girl’s face scrunch up and burrow against Kerrick’s shoulder. He hugged her close, whispering soothing words in ear. Cimby never thought him more a hero than he was proving himself to be at that moment. The poor man would have a lot to deal with taking herself and Irisi on. One woman, an emotionally stunted and slightly psychotic mate, the other an emotionally wounded and afflicted daughter.
“I would be honored if you let me care for and protect you, Irisi. I would also be honored if you would consider me part of yours and Cimby’s family. Is that all right?” Irisi didn’t even lift her head from his shoulder, but they both heard the muffled yes. Cimby smiled at Kerrick and rubbed Irisi’s back up and down, taking in the significance of the moment. A few weeks ago she would have never imagined her life could have been filled with so much joy. It was almost unnatural for her to experience this suffocating weight of emotion.
After a few moments Irisi pulled away from Kerrick with an embarrassed smile. He cupped her face and used his thumb to brush away a tear.
“Listen to Lottie while we are away, understand?” Kerrick ordered Irisi.
“Keep drinking those shakes,” Cimby added, pulling Irisi in for a hug of her own. The girl dug her fingers into Cimby’s shirt, holding on tight. “Help her with the other kids if you have the energy.”
“Okay. Be safe, please?” She looked over at Kerrick. “Both of you.”
“You know I shall kick some ass, as you like to say.”
Irisi smil
ed, and Cimby could see the girl she was meant to be beneath the pale skin and meatless bones. She was a girl with fire in her heart and determination in her blood, a girl Kerrick and Cymbeline would be proud to help Irisi become.
Chapter Twenty
By attacking Kerrick’s people unprovoked, Mara had declared herself, and all those she commanded, enemies of the Weres. Kerrick and his soldiers would answer that declaration with one of his own that night. The attack upon Mara’s clan would commence at sunrise. A team of soldiers, including himself and Cimby, would fly over the Vryk facility via helicopters and drop in. Weres who were flight capable would do so, utilizing their military capabilities to their advantage. They amassed at The Mansion the eve of the attack to oversee the evacuation of the family units and minors residing at the compound. Jeremiah made sure to have a few teams hunting for human or Vryk spies attempting to keep track of their movements. Zach had taught a few of the more tech-savvy soldiers the operating system he had created to scan for enemy tech in the area. On top of that Zach had ensured, when he first moved into The Mansion, that no images of The Mansion and the surrounding areas would be visible by satellite. Even with all these measures in place nothing had been found, by either Zach’s or Jeremiah’s teams. Suspicious, but not enough to pull the soldiers back.
Leah had her financial strike in place, the freezing of all Vryk accounts personal and otherwise under the guise of tax evasion. They would strike all at once, financially and physically crippling them in one attack. It was one thing to hurt and disband their clan, but it would take money to put it back together if there were survivors, money Leah had made sure to deprive them of.
As Cimby and Kerrick waited for zero hour, overseeing the evacuation of the families and making last-minute contingencies for the attack, he realized this was the first time any of his people, besides those who resided at The Mansion, had actually seen Cymbeline. They observed her quietly and from a distance, all too aware of the position she now held as his mate and the power she radiated just from the confident aura she projected. They also didn’t want to piss their Alphar off by bothering his mate. A wise decision, he thought. She noticed the staring, of course, but chose to ignore them, not wanting to get into a pissing contest on the eve of a battle.
To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 Page 26