by Lynn Hagen
“I’m going to get reinforcements,” Hondo said. “If that jerk was telling the truth, then there are going to be some nasty creatures at Malcor’s. He was scum, but he was right. Omar is an indispensable source. Every person who wants to use him will be bidding.”
Einarr’s stomach rolled at the thought of Omar being sold. The little boy had to be scared out of his mind. He berated himself once more for failing the boy.
“I think we should head over to Malcor’s,” Tryck Santiago said. “If we can get Omar out, then we’ll burn the fucking place to the ground.”
“What’s with you and fire?” Paine asked.
Tryck shrugged. “It burns clean and is an efficient method. Cleanses everything, yeah?”
Einarr didn’t want to know. He’d heard of the wolf shifters but had never encountered the brothers before.
“Then let’s get moving,” Paine said as he turned his gaze to Einarr. “Kahl wants Omar back. He says he’s not eating or sleeping until Omar is home again.”
Einarr knew that Paine’s son had claimed Omar as his. The two were mere children, but their bond had grown deep in the short amount of time that they’d known each other. There was nothing sexual about their friendship, but Einarr—as well as Kendrick and Kahl’s parents—knew the two were mates.
What would it have been like to find his mate at such a young age? Demons didn’t feel a pull. They had to have sex in order to find their mate. But what would it have been like to share such a deep bond with someone at such a young age? Would that have changed Einarr’s childhood? Would it have made a difference in his life?
They headed around the back of Malcor’s to see expensive-looking cars lining the alleyway. The gleamed under the streetlamp, boasting of the wealth their owners possessed. Einarr was half-tempted to let the Santiago brothers set fire to every last one.
There were a few men milling around out back. Einarr recognized a few and knew they were nothing but trouble. But what shocked him the most was seeing one of Joe Hephner’s men, Caspian, standing among the demons. And the guy looked as cozy as a fox slipping through a hen house.
* * * *
Kendrick was furious as he paced his office. Einarr was a big, fat liar. The man wasn’t evil. There was no way Kendrick was going to believe that. He’d spent weeks with the demon, getting to know the guy, and Einarr hadn’t played him for a fool. He’d seen the real man. So the question begged, why was Einarr acting this way? The only conclusion Kendrick could come to was that Einarr was protecting him from something. Something big.
“I’m going to kick his balls into his gut when I see him,” he grumbled and then thought about Omar. His heart twisted. If anything happened to his nephew, Kendrick knew that he would lose it. Omar was the center of Kendrick’s world. Dylan was as well, but Dylan was much older, and Kendrick’s love for Dylan was different than his love for Omar.
He hadn’t been ready to take on the role as caregiver when his brother had killed himself. Kendrick had been living a fast-paced life at the time. Parties and booze, men and good times. Or so he’d thought. He’d tried to talk the lawyer out of handing over custody. Kendrick had been dating someone at the time who refused to raise children. Not only that, Kendrick had to sacrifice so much himself. But in the end, he’d relented and taken the boys on. It had been a decision he never would regret. Kendrick had been estranged from his brother. He didn’t even know Dylan and Omar, but after getting to know them, he wondered how he’d gotten through life without them.
Omar had been quiet and withdrawn for a good two years after his parent’s death. Understandable. But once he started to pull out of his shell and his true personality had shown, the little boy had stolen Kendrick’s heart. Dylan had tried desperately to take on his father’s role, to raise Omar the best he could, but he was only a young teenager at the time. Kendrick respected the hell out of Dylan for his efforts and hated that the kid hadn’t had a normal teenage life. He hadn’t dated, hadn’t gone to school functions or to his own prom. He was too busy trying to make Omar as happy as possible.
They had a small family that had been thrown together. Yet Kendrick wouldn’t trade one day with them for anything in the world. And now Omar was out there somewhere, no doubt terrified. Kendrick wanted to throat punch the damn demon who’d taken Omar.
He jumped when his phone rang. Kendrick glanced at it to see that Dylan was calling him. “Where are you?”
“At the Manchester place,” Dylan answered. “Paine made me stay behind.”
It seemed Kendrick wasn’t the only one who’d been relegated to the sidelines. “Yeah, Einarr made me stay as well.”
“So you don’t know what’s going on with Omar?” Dylan sounded worried. “Has anyone given you an update?”
Kendrick thought of Einarr, and he wanted to kick the man. “No. I want to go and help, but I need a demon to take me there, and Einarr isn’t playing nice.”
“Kahl is quite the talker,” Dylan said. “He named a few demons that are Hondo’s friends. Maybe you could call one of them to help you.”
Kendrick wasn’t too sure about that idea. Dealing with Einarr was enough to make him want to pull the blond strands from his head. “Give me a name.”
“Try Cadeym,” Dylan said. “Just shout his name and make sure all the lights are out.”
Kendrick grunted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Oh,” Dylan said. “Sorry. I forgot about your dates with Einarr.”
“They weren’t dates,” Kendrick corrected. “We’re just friends. Although at this moment, I’d like to kick him in the gonads.”
“Graphic,” Dylan said. “Just keep me updated. I’m worried sick about Omar.”
“You and me both,” Kendrick said before he hung up. He wasn’t sure this plan was going to work, but he refused to let Einarr shut him out. Regardless to what the demon had said, Kendrick’s feelings had grown deep for the guy, and he wasn’t going to give up so easily.
He cleared his throat and then tilted his head back, shouting, “Cadeym!”
Kendrick hurried to the windows in his office and closed the blinds. Although it was night, he wanted the office as dark as possible.
He nearly tripped over his own feet trying to make it back to his desk. Maybe he should have left one light on. It was a cloudy night, and the moon was hidden. Kendrick could barely see the hand in front of his face.
When a set of flaming-red eyes appeared on the other side of his desk, Kendrick gasped and began to back away. This guy was even larger than Einarr. His shirt strained around his biceps and chest. The guy looked as though he could crush Kendrick with his pinky.
“What is a sexy male like you doing calling a demon?” Cadeym said as he moved slowly around Kendrick’s desk.
Kendrick couldn’t find his voice. Not when Mr. Muscle Head lumbered toward him, a smug smile on his face and his intention in those strange, greenish-yellow eyes. The guy thought he was about to have a good time.
“Hmm,” he said as he walked forward, and Kendrick backpedaled. “A man of few words. I like that.”
Kendrick dodged Mr. Grippy’s hands as he shot toward his office door. “That’s not why I called you here,” he said over his shoulder.
Cadeym caught him and pulled Kendrick back to the desk, bending him over as he nuzzled Kendrick, inhaling deep drafts of his scent. “Ah, but there is a price for calling me to your home. I take it you want passage into the demon realm. I want your sexy body under me, writhing around as you scream my name.”
Kendrick pushed at the guy’s jaw, trying to get the demon away from him. When Cadeym pressed his hands over Kendrick’s thighs, Kendrick shot his knee up and nailed the guy in his nuts.
“Son of a bitch!” Cadeym howled as he backed away. “Dude, all you had to say was that you weren’t interested.”
“Gee, I think running from you was a huge clue.” Kendrick slipped from his desk and straightened his shirt. “Shoving at your jaw should have told you something.”
“I thought you were just playing hard to get.” Cadeym rubbed the palm of his hand between his legs, his face still a mask of pain. “Screw you. Find your own way into the realm.”
Kendrick had to think quickly. He couldn’t lose his ride. “Either you take me, or I tell Einarr what you just tried to do.”
Cadeym’s head snapped up as his lips parted. “You belong to Einarr?” And then the man’s face became mottled with anger. “Why the hell did you call me then?” The demon glanced around Kendrick’s office. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Take me to the demon realm, or I’ll inform Einarr that you tried to paw me to death.” Kendrick refused to answer any of Cadeym’s questions. If he told the truth, the demon wouldn’t take him anywhere, and Kendrick needed to find Omar.
“Keep your goddamn knee to yourself,” Cadeym groused as he grabbed Kendrick’s upper arm a bit roughly. “And don’t expect me to hunt him down for you. Once we’re there, you’re on your own. I have to go home and put an ice pack on my nuts.”
Kendrick felt bad for what he’d done, but the guy should have bought a clue. He wasn’t a violent man, but he wasn’t going to let the guy slob and grope all over him. “Are you always so aggressive?”
“Usually when men call me, it’s for one thing, and they know the score. I just thought one of my lovers referred me to you.” Cadeym shrugged. “I would have stopped if you kept resisting and I figured out you weren’t playing hard to get.”
Kendrick gaped at the man. “I would ask that ahead of time,” he advised. “Especially with a stranger.”
Cadeym frowned. “That kinda makes sense.”
This was unreal. Kendrick started to say more, but his head began to spin and he was standing once again on the streets of Serenity City. He really wished they’d install a railway system. “Thank you.”
Cadeym eyes him warily. “You’re thanking me after I felt you up?”
“I’m not an asshole,” Kendrick said as he rubbed his temples. “It was a misunderstanding.”
Cadeym sighed. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this. Come on.”
“Where are you taking me?” Kendrick asked as Cadeym pulled him down the street.
“Einarr will remove body parts I’d rather keep if anything happens to you. Besides, I know where he is.”
Kendrick couldn’t say no. Cadeym had him by his upper arm and was pulling him along at a fast pace. “Where is he?”
Cadeym turned his head slightly. “Where all the Demon Warriors are gathered right now.”
Kendrick was about to meet them all at once? “Why are your friends all gathered together?”
“Because,” Cadeym said as he pulled Kendrick down an alleyway, “the auction for the little human boy is about to begin.”
Kendrick felt the blood drain from his face. “What!”
Chapter Four
Einarr’s gut twisted into a thousand knots when he stole into the restaurant and slipped into a back room. The other warriors kept the men of the club occupied by fighting. Most bidders fled, but a few remained, battling it out. Caspian was nowhere to be seen. If getting to Omar hadn’t been so important, Einarr would have gone after the Vampire Hunter. How had Caspian gotten into the demon realm? How did he find out about it? Who had brought him here?
Hundreds of questions cropped up in Einarr’s mind as he searched the back rooms of Malcor’s. The first door led to a storage room where boxes and crates lay stacked on top of one another. Einarr searched around the inventory but came up empty. He moved to the next room. Swinging the door wide, he found Malcor’s office. It wasn’t as fancy as Einarr would have expected. There were two filing cabinets against the back wall, a desk, carpeting that appeared worn and frayed, and an extra-cushioned chair that had seen better days.
He’d started to close the door when he heard something thump. Frowning, Einarr moved farther into the room. He checked behind the door to make sure he wasn’t about to be ambushed, but no one was there. Another thump. Einarr glanced around the room, but there wasn’t another door besides the one he’d just come through. He wandered behind the desk to find Malcor lying bound on the floor.
The demon narrowed his eyes at Einarr as he jerked his legs, his feet hitting the desk. Einarr reached down and yanked the cloth from Malcor’s gagged mouth. He spotted demon cuffs on Malcor. Those were the same cuffs the Demon Warriors used when arresting criminals. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Uncuff me.” Malcor’s tone was malevolent.
Einarr did as the owner asked. He stuffed the cuffs in his back pocket. No one should possess them. They were Demon-Warrior-issued only. It seemed a lot of things that weren’t supposed to be were being done. Someone had brought Caspian here. Demon cuffs were on Malcor. Einarr didn’t want to know what other rules had been broken. He sliced the thick binding tape from around the man’s ankles and then helped Malcor to his feet.
“Now tell me what happened, and where is the little boy? Why did you let them auction him off here?”
Malcor rubbed at his wrists as he tried to walk around his desk. Einarr blocked the man’s progress. He wanted answers, and Malcor wasn’t leaving this office until Einarr had heard everything.
“I was ambushed,” Malcor explained. “I came in here to get some paperwork done. Someone was waiting behind my office door. I was shoved forward and cuffed before I knew what was going on.” The man straightened his suit jacket with a hard jerk. “I have no idea what boy you’re speaking of. I’ve been bound in my office for hours.”
“If you didn’t let such shady characters into your restaurant, you might not have this problem,” Einarr pointed out. “Criminals tend to bite the hand that feeds them.”
“And if I didn’t allow them in here, my business would have suffered long ago. They make up a large percentage of my income. I don’t like it either, but I have a business to run. They tip well,” Malcor said as if that excused his blind eye. “I never claimed to be a saint, but I would never allow a young boy to be auctioned off in my restaurant.”
“Is there someplace they might be holding him?” Einarr asked as he moved to exit the office. Malcor followed. “Some secret room you have that they might have discovered?”
“I have a vast cellar underneath where I keep my wine,” Malcor said. “If they were trying to hide the boy until auction time, that would be the place.”
“Show me.” Einarr stepped aside so Malcor could take the lead. The riotous noise had died down some, but Einarr knew they weren’t in the clear just yet. There had been quite a turnout for Omar, and some weren’t willing to give up their chance at attaining Omar and his special gift.
He wouldn’t doubt if a few were searching for Omar just as he was. Malcor’s Melting Pot wasn’t like any other restaurant. Einarr had heard of hidden rooms and false doors in this place. Marino had used those means on many occasions to escape the Demon Warriors.
Malcor pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened a large and thick wooden door that had been hidden behind a wall panel in the last room in the hallway. The door had three locking mechanisms that required three different keys. Who took this much precaution over some wine?
Einarr needed to concentrate, to stay sharp, but his mind went back to the one man who was starting to get under his skin.
Starting? He’s already there.
He didn’t want to admit that Kendrick had his nose wide open. Einarr didn’t want to admit that he felt a stirring in his chest whenever he thought of Kendrick. Regardless of Panahasi’s orders, he needed to keep as far away from Kendrick as possible.
His enemies going after Omar only drove that point home. His life had spilt over into Kendrick’s—and not in a good way. They would never be at peace. Someone would always see Kendrick as Einarr’s weakness and try to use the human and his family against Einarr.
What if the next time Kendrick was kidnapped…or worse? And there would be a next time. There was always a next time. What if someone far more dange
rous got his hands on Kendrick? Einarr’s uncle came to mind, and his heart threatened to stop beating as he thought of what Kadrino Zakul would do to Kendrick.
“This way,” Malcor said as he led Einarr down a flight of rickety wooden stairs.
The way the wood protested Einarr wondered if the steps would support his weight. He made it to the bottom and stepped onto the earth-packed floor. The place smelled musty, and the air felt dry. The cellar was dark, but Einarr had no problem seeing. He spotted row after row of wine racks that were filled from top to bottom. The walls were wooden with large support beams ever ten feet.
“There is a room back here that I use for opening and airing out the wine,” Malcor said. “That has to be where they’re keeping him.”
Einarr’s gaze swept the entire area as they walked. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his gut. It was too quiet down here. If he’d kidnapped someone and wanted to auction them off, Einarr wouldn’t have let his prize go unattended. He would have either watched the kidnapped victim himself or had someone watch over him. He definitely wouldn’t have left the victim alone—even if said victim was only seven human years old. It was too big of a risk. Any bidder could have come down here and decided to save his money and just take what he wanted.
Malcor stopped at the far end of the wine cellar and pulled his keys out. Einarr tensed, ready for whatever was on the other side of the door. He prayed like hell that Omar hadn’t been hurt in any way. The thought of anyone pawing the boy, or worse, had him ready to eviscerate the demon who’d taken Omar.
After Malcor unlocked the door, Einarr moved the man aside. “I’ll take it from here.”
Malcor nodded and moved to the wall beside the door. Einarr eased it open, peering inside. He checked behind the door before he moved into the room. There was a wooden table to the right with a few opened bottles of wine sitting there forgotten. The flooring was the same, earth-packed. The walls were made of cinder block, and the room was windowless. There was a bare bulb hanging loosely, a long pull cord swaying slightly.