Act of Submission

by Mandy M. Roth

  His words sobered Haven. Vampire? That was what she was? What? How? That couldn’t be, could it? And Boomer hated vampires?

  She tore her mouth from his wound, his blood on her lips as she looked up at him and then closed her eyes, the strain of everything crashing into her hard. She lost it, breaking into tears, shaking her head and then slapping the man’s hard chest. “You killed him.”

  “Killed who?” he asked, a certain softness to his voice now.

  “Harper,” she managed, just barely. “You killed my brother.”

  “Did I?” he asked, and then his expression changed. “If I did, I’m sorry.”

  “I know how you feel about vampires,” said Corbin. “Miles, allow one of us to see to her. We’ll watch over her. Go and clear your head.”

  “I’m not putting her down,” replied Boomer. “She just had my blood. It will help her counter the tranq darts. She can take more blood from me if she needs it. I’ll give whatever she requires.”

  The men all gasped.

  “Boomer? What gives?” asked the grumpy one.

  Haven lifted her head, which felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and looked at the shocked expressions on the men’s faces. She got the feeling Boomer didn’t offer up being a blood bank often.

  If ever.

  Self-conscious because of her lack of control, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glanced away. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. I really just came here to kill you.”

  Boomer chuckled, still holding her off the ground in his arms, showing no signs of putting her down. “Thanks. I think.”

  She met his gaze and found herself getting lost in it once more. “Am I what they said? Am I a vampire?”

  Puzzlement coated his expression. “You don’t know what you are?”

  She shook her head, the tears returning again. She hated herself. Hated how weak she was. “I just know I’m a monster.”

  “You’re not a monster.” He sighed. “Baby, don’t cry. Please. We’ll help you figure this out. I swear.”

  “All of you killed my brother,” she said, still feeling like everything on her weighed a ton. “You tore him to bits. I heard all about it. And then I saw the aftermath.” She was about to say more when a chimpanzee appeared in her line of vision. Confused, she tipped her head more. The chimp was dressed in pink and wearing a princess crown. She blinked. He was still there. He apparently was not a product of the drugs. Haven was no longer able to fight the effects of the tranq and closed her eyes just as the chimp took the crown from his head and placed it on hers.

  Chapter Nine

  Boomer held the woman in his arms, unable to tear his gaze from her. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. For only the tiniest of seconds had he considered putting her down when he heard the word vampire. His gross dislike and hate of them was well-known. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bear the idea of losing contact with her. It didn’t matter to him what she was. Only that she was in his arms. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t want to explain, and he sure the fuck didn’t have to explain it to anyone.

  Mine.

  His arms shook as he held her, the strong need to bite her and claim her nearly knocking him over. He hated contact with others. Loathed it. But not with this woman. He wanted her close. Wanted her to touch him. To feed from him. To do whatever she needed to do to be safe and well. What was wrong with him?

  He opened his mouth as if he might really ask his teammates their thoughts, but stopped. They’d never understand his internal struggle. The strange and fierce need he had that had seemingly come out of nowhere in regards to the female.

  Lil’ Duke propped the tiara on her head and then smiled up at Boomer before walking off in the direction of the primate area. It was the first time since coming to the rescue that the chimp went willingly to bed. That should have told Boomer something right there. When the kids start behaving, something was certainly going on.

  Striker eased closer to Boomer. He bit at his lower lip, his gaze averted downward. If Boomer didn’t know the guy was alpha through and through, he’d have thought Striker was going soft. He knew better. “Sorry I shot her. I was aimin’ at you. Little comfort, but understand I dinnae mean to hit her with it.”

  “I know,” said Boomer, his cat wanting to surface once more. The woman needed him more than he needed to lash out, so he kept his beast tucked away. Besides, he knew he’d been acting irrationally. That he’d become a threat to all those around him. At least he knew his friends and brothers-in-arms would take the steps needed to keep him from ever harming others. That was a small comfort, but a comfort all the same. “I guess I needed tranqed, huh?”

  “To be expected, I suppose.” Corbin tipped his head back and forth and cracked his neck. Blood dripped down the corner of his mouth and marred the man’s dress shirt. A pang of guilt lanced Boomer as he realized he was the cause of his friend’s injuries.

  “What do you mean?” Boomer asked of Corbin, who in turn said nothing more as he set about righting the overturned chairs. One of the chairs was hopeless and wouldn’t be able to be saved. It wasn’t a great loss, and those things tended to happen whenever a bunch of shifter males gathered and added alcohol. Boomer had additional chairs in a storage room. He’d retrieve them later. For now, the card game was over.

  Malik cleared his throat, pulling attention from Corbin to himself. “She is very beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” said Boomer, staring down at the woman, a strange sensation starting in his chest. Her skin had a certain olive undertone that, despite her paleness, gave her coloring. Her full, pouty lips were relaxed now, and he could still vividly recall what it felt like to kiss them. The longer he stared at them, committing every detail to memory, the more his body ached for her, for release. One brown freckle was just above the left side of her mouth, reminding him of Marilyn Monroe—a woman he’d actually met in person once.

  Boomer couldn’t seem to look away from the woman in his arms. What had she said her name was again? “Haven.”

  Duke grabbed cards from the floor and tossed them on the table. “Did we kill her brother?”

  “Probably,” answered Striker as he retrieved his beer and finished off whatever was in it. He then grabbed another, popped it open and chugged it. He belched. “Shame. Lass seems sweet enough.”

  “She came here to kill Boomer,” said Duke with a snort, taking a beer for himself in the process. “That was what she thought she wanted. But the second she heard he was going to be locked away in a cage tonight if he didn’t get his shit together, she put herself in front of him. Protecting him. Women are fucking weird.”

  Boomer looked at his fellow teammates, needing them to understand and agree to what he was about to say. “If I ever become a danger to her, I want you all to swear to lock me up. I don’t care for how long. I don’t care how small the cage. Lock me up. Got it?”

  Corbin stepped forward and raised a hand, silencing the others. “Miles.”

  Very rarely did anyone call him by his actual name. “What?”

  “Are you ready to hear who I think she is to you?” questioned Corbin, his expression unreadable.

  “Uh, who we all think she is to you,” added Duke from behind, finishing off his new beer.

  Boomer held the woman tighter to him. What were they going on about? She was a stranger to him. “I don’t know her. I’ve never seen her before tonight.”

  Malik pursed his lips and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “Wait for it. It will come to him.”

  The men just stared at him for what felt like forever.

  “Och, he’s a cat-shifter. They’re dimwitted,” Striker exclaimed, tossing one hand in the air and rolling his eyes dramatically. “She’s yer mate, dumbass.”

  My mate?

  Boomer paused and thought about his reaction to her smell and then his reaction to her presence. How he couldn’t seem to put her down. How he wanted to be locked away if he was a threat to
her in any way. He looked down at her and the reality of it all hit him hard. She was his and she wanted him dead. “My mate came here to kill me?”

  “Nae the best start to a relationship, but I’ve had worse,” offered Striker, grabbing popcorn off the floor and eating a handful. “Way worse.”

  Duke raised his hand as if he were being called on in class. “I had to toss my mate over my shoulder and pretty much abduct her when we first met.”

  “’Tis true,” Striker said, his mouth full of popcorn. “I saw the whole thing.”

  Boomer shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t have a mate.”

  “Yes, you can, and you clearly do,” said Malik matter-of-factly. The man had always seen things differently than most. His age had something to do with it.

  “But you’re older than me. All of you are,” Boomer replied, still dumbfounded. “You’re supposed to find your mates first, right?”

  “Duke is the youngest on our team, and even he’s how old,” said Corbin. He placed the last of the chairs back in its place. “And he was the first of us to mate. James was next and he’s quite old for a supernatural. I feel it has little to do with age and everything to do with when the Fates decide its time. When they deem we need a mate most. Not how many years we’ve been alive.”

  “Yer time is up,” said Striker, picking up a turned-over bottle of booze. He uncapped it and drank from the bottle. “Should have gotten the strippers. You’d have had one last piece of ass before yer stuck with the same old one forever. Though she’s a mighty fine lookin’ lass, if I do say so myself.”

  “If he keeps talking, I’m going to kill him,” said Boomer, meaning it. He was hanging on by a thread. “She’s mine and don’t talk about her like that. Understand? My wife is to be respected. Period.”

  The men leaned back some and then began to glance around, looking at anything but him. When Striker and Duke took to whistling, Boomer wondered what had happened. He stared at them. “What?”

  Malik grinned and pushed off the wall. “You called her your mate and your wife.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Boomer thought harder on it all. “Shit. I did.”

  “Let’s get your mate to an exam room here and I’ll call James. She looks like she needs to be checked over,” said Corbin, moving slightly closer to Boomer. “Will you let him look at her?”

  “James is mated, so yes, he can touch her,” Boomer said without thinking, and then groaned as Striker laughed at him. “Shut up.”

  Duke put his arms out. “I’m mated too. Let me hold her while you clean up. You’re covered in blood and I don’t think the girl needs to see that when she comes to. I promise, no one but me will hold her and I won’t let her out of my sight.”

  “I don’t think I can put her down,” he confessed, the very idea of being away from her making his cat stir to life once more. “How do you do it? How do you walk away from Mercy?”

  “Oh, it’s much easier now that she chases me out. Pregnancy hormones make them damn scary,” said Duke with wide eyes. “Here, let me hold her. Corbin will call James and you can get yourself cleaned up.”

  “You won’t let anyone else touch her?” he demanded.

  “I won’t.” Duke grunted. “Take Striker with you. He’ll be the only one you’re really worried about.”

  “Och, no. I’m nae that bad.” Striker paused and then took a big drink from the bottle. “Okay, I’m that bad. I’ll help you get cleaned up. I’m taking the liquor. No judgin’.”

  Chapter Ten

  Corbin waited as James stepped out of the exam room. He’d been anxious for an update on the female, but knew better than to dare enter the room. As an unmated male, he’d set Boomer’s shifter side off once more should he go near Haven too soon. Before Boomer was ready to fully accept who she was to him and claim her. Corbin had spotted the doubt in Boomer’s expression. The common way in which an alpha will cling with two hands to their mate yet try to deny what is right in front of them. Alphas were not the brightest when it came to figuring out matters of the heart.

  Already Corbin was lucky that Boomer had pulled himself back from his earlier outburst. Had the challenge gone forward, Corbin wasn’t sure what would have happened.

  You know, he thought. Corbin would have been forced to kill a man who had become family in every way that mattered. And it would have ended poorly.

  James glanced around the abandoned hallway. “Boomer?”

  “Striker is with him. He doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks Duke is standing guard outside the girl’s room,” answered Corbin, displeased he’d lied to one of his men. “Mercy called. Something about a craving and possibly killing people if Duke didn’t get her chocolate-covered potato chips, stat.”

  James snorted. “I’d be scared of that threat. I’ve seen what the little doctor is capable of.”

  “I think Duke worried she might actually hurt someone. How is Haven?”

  “Exhausted, dehydrated, and I don’t think she’s eaten in days,” replied James as he shook his head. “She’s young, scared, and I think lost.”

  Corbin agreed. He touched his jaw. “She is quite capable, even in her state of disarray.”

  James chuckled. “Heard she got the jump on you. How did she manage that?”

  Corbin had been wondering the same thing ever since it happened. He’d stepped out of the room to make a private phone call, and the next he knew he had a woman falling from above onto him, tackling him to the ground before proceeding to hit him. He’d not wanted to hit her back, so he’d permitted her to get her licks in to start before attempting to subdue her without causing any injury to her. That had not gone as planned. She was fast. And strong. Very strong.

  “You think she’s Boomer’s mate?” questioned James, his gaze reflective. The man had been through a lot recently, and what had pulled him out the other side in one piece had been meeting his mate. Laney meant the world to the man. As a mate should.

  With a curt nod, Corbin spoke. “I do. That is what I’m worried about. Miles isn’t in a place mentally to be mated. Not yet. I thought he would be, but he’s not there. Not yet.”

  James touched Corbin’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “I didn’t think I was in a place mentally. Yet I’m mated. I’m happy. Laney is safe and I like to think I’m a good mate.”

  Corbin closed his eyes. “You know some of Miles’s past. Not all of it.”

  “I know enough to know that him volunteering to be caged if he was threat to her says a whole hell of a lot,” answered James flatly. “That should tell you all you need to know right there.”

  “He has triggers,” confessed Corbin, betraying a trust he had with Boomer—a man in some ways he thought of as a son. He’d been in the man’s life that long. He’d seen him at his lowest point and that wasn’t something he talked about with anyone. Some thought they knew all about Boomer. They were wrong. They knew just enough. No more. “If he hurt her, he’d never come back from it. Ever. We’d lose him. We’d have to put him down.”

  “You mean you’d have to put him down,” corrected James, catching the gist of the worry with ease. James had always been good at that. “We like to look at him and pretend he’s not a threat. Pretend he’s more worried about black eyeliner and silver, bat-shaped earrings than he is on being a soldier or a threat, but truth is he might just be the most lethal of us all. Except for you.”

  Corbin flinched, disliking that James could see through him so easily. They’d been friends a long time. There was a side of Corbin very few were aware of. A side that scared him. A side that would need to come out should Boomer lose control and go over the edge of reason. And Haven was just the thing to possibly push him over that cliff. “I can’t do it. I can’t put him down if it comes to it.”

  “Because you think you failed him when he was younger, or that you see him as a son?” James tugged at his white jacket sleeves. Always the doctor.

  Corbin thought harder on it all. He had failed Boomer. He’d found Boom
er as a toddler, living with a mother who had been bitten by a were during pregnancy. His mother hadn’t been stable. Far from it. She would swing drastically from being overprotective to being a danger to her young son. So Corbin had been forced to do the unthinkable and had hated himself for it. But he’d thought Boomer would be safe. He thought by taking the young boy and placing him with people who were distant relatives to the line of were he carried, that the boy would be raised properly, as a shifter clan should.

  That hadn’t happened.

  Far from it.

  And Corbin had been the one to hand Miles to them. He’d handed over a small, innocent child—born a were-panther to a mother who had needed to be put down to protect him—to a cult of sickos. He should have known better. He should have protected him.

  Corbin had never forgiven himself. It didn’t matter that the minute he’d found out about it all he had gone back, only to find the boy had grown into a damaged young man. It didn’t matter that Corbin had dedicated so much time and effort to try to mend Miles, getting him into the PSI-Ops program and doing what he could to heal the emotional damage. None of it mattered. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

  “Every kid grows up,” James said bluntly. “Miles is hardly a young cub. By human standards he’d be long dead at his age.”

  “He’s not human,” said Corbin. “By our standards he’s not ready. And with his history—”

  “You planning to hold his history against him forever?” asked James, folding his arms. “I’m pretty sure he had every right to go on a killing rampage like he did. The guy was holed up in a cage that was too small for him in panther form as well, for years. Poked, prodded, forced to stay in shifted form while he did tricks for sick bastards, and if that wasn’t enough, the minute they let him finally shift to human, they’d pimp his body out to the highest bidder. They let humans fuck him, beat him, do whatever. They let supernaturals do the same. And the fact that he’s willing to be locked up to protect her, a girl who is about a quarter vampire according to preliminary data, says a whole hell of a lot about his state of mind.”