by Susan Bliler
“Then I can defend myself.”
He smiled, but it was hollow. “You’re worried about what’s going to happen to you here. You’ve heard how we are?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Even if you were a man you’d stand no chance against a Keeper. Being a fully healthy female won’t help.”
“I want the chance.”
“To fight for your survival, or to fight off Keeper males?”
She’d wondered if the second should be a concern. After Rohm’s speech, she’d thought not, but Keo’s words had just confirmed it. She didn’t blink, her dark eyes locked with his. “Yes.”
Keo lowered her hand. “And what exactly do you mean, ‘you’ll agree to be mine’? What happens if I take on the burden of you and wish to use you for my enjoyment?”
Sam hated this. How many times had she had to bargain the use of her body for her life? Too many. She feigned indifference. “There’s no enjoyment to be found with me, but…” she drew in a deep breath that lifted her chest. “For your promise of protection, I’d allow you the use of my body.”
Chapter 12
Sam didn’t look up. She couldn’t. She knew her cheeks were flaming as humiliation and degradation tore through her. She was offering her body in exchange for Keo’s protection. A strong finger under her chin tilted her face up until her eyes locked with his.
“You seem extremely uncertain.”
Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she considered telling him the truth. In the end she realized she had nothing to lose by doing so. “My life is at stake, Keeper. I’d prefer to go down fighting, and I can’t do that if I’m wounded and starving.”
“You think offering yourself to me is going down fighting?”
“It buys me time to heal.”
Keo watched her as if searching for something. Shifting uncomfortably, Sam felt genuine unease, so she looked away. “To my kind I am not…unattractive. I’m confused as to why Keepers would find me so repulsive. There must be one of you that would agree to my terms. One of you must be willing to protect me for use of my body.”
“Repulsive? Who told you Keepers found you repulsive?”
“Rohm. He explained it wasn’t just because I was a traitor. He said because of the way I look no Keeper here would want me, so not to try. I don’t understand. What does he mean the way I look? He mated a human female. Someone would be interested in me…wouldn’t they?”
When she looked up, Keo’s expression had hardened. “Rohm hosts a polar bear, which means he’d be attracted to a female like him, pale, fair.”
Sam shook her head in confusion. “Have you seen Nyree?”
The corner of Keo’s mouth crooked. Nyree had dark skin, chocolate eyes and thick sable hair. “Yes. Seems he has a taste for the opposite of what he sees in the mirror every day.”
If the explanation was supposed to mean something to Sam, it didn’t.
Keo’s hand gripped the ends of her hair, lifting and pulling a handful of the satiny, raven-colored locks over her shoulder. “You are a dark female.”
She looked down at her arm. It was paler even than his.
“Not your flesh.” His hand smoothed down her hair. “Your hair, your heart. You would be meant for Keepers with panther, dark bear, or black wolf sentries.” He smiled, his warm amber eyes crinkling in the corners. “Had you not been a traitor, Fatal probably would have already claimed you for himself.”
Sam frowned hard under his scrutiny, but kept her eyes on him. “You said would be meant.”
His smile faded and he lifted his hand again, this time lighting his fingers across her cheek. “This is what they see. Because of it, no fully dark Sentry would claim you either.”
Sam blinked in shock. “Keepers are adverse to imperfections?” She jerked back when Keo suddenly snarled.
“Spots are not imperfections!”
Realization slowly dawned, and Sam’s mouth dropped open. My freckles! He thinks they are spots. “I-I’m not…” she didn’t know how to phrase it without sounding stupid. “They’re not spots, Keo. Many women have them. We try to hide them.”
“Why?”
“They’re usually considered by most to be…unattractive.”
He growled loud and long. “You think that spots are unattractive? You hide them on purpose?”
“No. Yes. Hell, I’m just explaining that men don’t usually appreciate women who have them, so I wear makeup...”
“What men?” his tone was incredulous as he cut her off.
Sam brows dipped even further. “All Keepers for one. Obviously!”
“I told you they would choose women who are similar to their Soul Sentries.”
“Rohm said I was an undesirable, and you said no fully dark Sentries would claim me either. My looks are considered undesirable here Keo because men, apparently including all Keepers, find women with freckles unappealing. That is why I try to hide them.”
Sam could only watch as Keo stepped back and turned to the side to stretch out his arms. She noted that the muscle in his jaw twitched as if he were trying to control his anger. She knew what he was doing, though. He was releasing Bronx.
Sam blinked once and in that diminutive amount of time Bronx was conjured up and turning molten yellow eyes on her before the giant cat slowly approached.
The beast was scary and Sam wondered if, because she was covered in blood, the cat would think she were a snack.
Even in the tall med bed, Bronx stood towering over her. Afraid to do anything else, Sam sat motionless while the cheetah inched closer and ruffled her dark hair with a great huff from its nose. Seconds later it began sniffing all around her, even shoving it’s snout to where the apex of her thighs was covered by the sheet. She inhaled, but otherwise didn’t move until she tensed as Bronx pulled back to sniff at her injured side.
Sam swallowed hard. “Keo?”
“Bronx has wanted to get near you since you saved him in the forest. He won’t harm you. He can’t. He owes you his fealty.”
Still riveted by her injured side, Bronx pulled back his lips, revealing sharp canines before hissing loudly.
Sam jerked back. “KEO!”
Keo squatted beside his Sentry and buried a hand in Bronx’s satiny spotted fur. “Easy.”
Sam wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or Bronx.
“He’s upset that you’re injured.” Keo explained, but didn’t look at her. “He also thought you were going to be ours.” He turned to pin her with churning golden eyes. “We did not know you despised spots.” He rose and strode to the door with Bronx close on his heels. Neither looked back, and seconds later Sam was alone in the exam room.
She scrambled to toss the blankets off of her. She’d been left unattended and unrestrained, and this was her chance, but as soon as she sat up, the pain in her side had her doubling over as she dry-heaved against the agony that gripped her. She groaned against the pain induced by the convulsions that wracked her, and when they finally passed she collapsed back onto the bed and shook fiercely. Clearly, she wasn’t walking out of the North Fortress, not like this. She needed another plan.
Theirs? Despise spots? Well fuck! Keo had completely misunderstood, and what’s worse is she actually felt bad for offending his damn cheetah. She replayed the conversation in her mind and couldn’t figure out where Keo could come up with the theory that she hated spots, aside from the fact that she tried to hide her own.
She felt genuinely bad that Keo had been insulted, which isn’t how things had started out. She had been the one to be criticized and demeaned by Rohm because of her looks. If anything, she should be insulted.
Not even realizing she’d been tensed the whole time, she let her body relax back against the med bed. Great! Kept prisoner, unwanted by the Keepers, and now I’ve insulted the only one who could have helped me gain my freedom. Frustrated tears burned the back of her eyes. She was going to kill Monroe if she ever got out of this mess. A discouraged sigh left her, because she knew that being angry at Monroe was usel
ess. Besides, her being moved from StoneCrow had to be a breakdown in communication. It simply had to be, because she still had one juicy little morsel that she knew the Dominant was after. She’d kept this particular piece of information close to her sleeve intentionally for this specific reason. It was her last bargaining chip, the last weapon in her arsenal, and it was intel that she’d only recently become privy to after all these years. Finally, she knew the location of the Megalya’s main facility.
Wait! Keo said Bronx thought I was to be theirs, which means there’s still a chance! Hope surged forth, and she despised it. She hated this, having to rely on others for anything. It was humiliating, and so against her nature that she wondered if her sour attitude and dark demeanor wouldn’t get her killed before she had a chance to escape.
Rohm’s other words came floating back to her. ‘Keepers despise weakness, but will never fail to capitalize on it.’
She herself had exploited weakness on more occasions than she could count. Hell, she was trying to do it even now to Keo and Bronx, but if she was wounded and couldn’t hold down blood long enough to heal then what else could she do? She felt like one of those fainting goats. She’d have to play the needy, weakened female and rely on those damn overactive protective Keeper instincts to keep her ass alive until she could get her meeting with Monroe, the snaky bastard!
She heard feet approaching and grabbed the blanket to cover herself back up. She’d assumed it was Keo, returning to stand guard over her, but instead Jenny stepped into her exam room followed by a frowning and clearly displeased Nyree.
Chapter 13
Bellis looked at Monroe where the Dominant sat behind his large, opulent desk. Monroe’s cold gaze turned accusingly to where King stood with arms crossed beside his desk. “You sent her to the North Fortress?”
The Chief of Security shrugged. “Made an executive decision. Seemed right.”
“Look,” Bellis’ growl drew the Dominant’s attention back to him. “I need to know, if this is real or not.”
Monroe simply stared at him.
“How in the fuck can I save her if I don’t know if she’s with us or against us?” he snarled, finally at the end of his patience. “IS SHE ONE OF YOURS OR NOT?”
He’d been questioning the Dominant for twenty minutes, and all he’d gotten was bored looks. Even now, Monroe still simply stared at him, his cold blue eyes blinking slowly. The Dominant had no tell, and Bellis couldn’t scent anything. Without words, there was no way to know, and clearly Monroe wasn’t going to answer that particular question.
All the way back to StoneCrow, something was niggling him about Sam. She was so adamant about speaking to Monroe, and when she found out she’d be transferred without that meeting he’d scented more on her than just anger, she’d been hurt. Her actions in shoving Bronx out of the way of a bullet and taking it herself also spoke volumes. Those weren’t the actions of a Skin Walker or Keeper enemy. No, it had been a split second decision, acted on instinctively. She could’ve died today protecting Bronx and that went against everything he’d been told about her.
Back at StoneCrow he’d gone straight to the Monroe’s quarters and waited two hours to speak with the Dominant. Finding out that Sam was moved without Monroe’s direction or consent, and his obvious displeasure with the fact, had Bellis’ suspicions sky rocketing.
“Leave us.” Monroe commanded, and King exited the office with a put-upon sigh.
Once he was gone Monroe and Bellis stared at each other in a silent battle of wills.
Bellis was the first to speak. “If you won’t answer me, at least tell me what made her like this. How is she so…so broken?”
Monroe’s hard expression softened. “One of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do in life is to grieve the loss of a person who is still alive.” He twisted the pen he held in his hand, his eyes dipping to watch it. “Sam has suffered much.” The corner of his mouth ticked up in a humorless smile. “More than you’d think one person should be able to handle. Betrayal, abuse, pain, loss. She’s no stranger to any of it, and yet it all still keeps coming.” He dropped the pen and leaned forward, folding his hands together over his desk. “Like brutal waves crashing on the shore. and you just keep waiting for them to ebb, waiting for a break in the incessant battering. There has been no reprieve for her. It’s been years and years of heartache and misery, and just when I think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel for her that tunnel caves.
There was a time when I thought I could help. Thought I could pull her from the fire.” His head ticked with one shake. “But no matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, things only ever got worse. There is no fucking end for her. Do not get attached. She cannot be saved.” He turned his head to stare distractedly out the window. “I’ve thought about her a lot. I’ve wondered why she’s been called on to carry so much when others endure so little. It’s been painful to watch, and it’s taken me this long to realize that she wasn’t born for rescuing.” He turned to lock eyes with Bellis. “She doesn’t need my help, or yours. She is strength and darkness in equal measure. She’s an Angel that will drag you to hell. Trust me when I say that I’ve studied this thing from every angle, and trust me when I say that, no matter how it looks, it isn’t Sam against the world, Bellis. It’s Sam against herself. She’s carrying this weight because she can, because she has to…because she chooses to.” His eyes turned distant. “You ever been hauling ass, driving fast through pouring rain and come to a bridge? You get under it and everything goes quiet. For a moment you can breathe again, regroup, and not worry. You’re safe. Seconds later you’re back in the storm and it hits you harder than before, louder than before, faster than before. She had a bridge once, and he betrayed her. She won’t let herself have another bridge, Bellis. She knows what comes after.” His eyes narrowed on the dark Walker. “She won’t subject herself to that again. Let. This. Go.”
Bellis’ jaw clenched. He wanted to rage against Monroe’s words, against what he thought of Sam. He knew better. Monroe was the Dominant, and believed he knew what was best for his Keepers. Still, the mere admission that Monroe knew so much about Sam, the fact that he tried to help her, had Bellis coming up short. Why? Why would Monroe attempt to help an enemy unless she wasn’t?
Monroe was wrong about Sam, but Bellis knew that arguing the fact wouldn’t change his mind. His words didn’t sway Bellis, though. On the contrary, Bellis now wanted more than ever to be Sam’s champion. Everyone had given up on her. He would not! He would see this through and determine for himself whether she was redeemable or not.
Monroe’s gaze narrowed on Bellis. “I mean it, Sentry. Be careful of that one. She may not be a Walker, but she can shift too, from beautiful to treacherous in the blink of an eye.” He dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair. “You did your job, and while I’m not yet finished with Ms. Michaels, you are. Mission complete. You’re dismissed.”
His tone and words were grating, and Bellis fisted his hands. He wanted to know what Monroe meant when he said he wasn’t finished with Sam, but getting a straight answer from the Dominant was like getting honey from a bee hive. He’d need preparation and careful planning if he had any hopes of gleaning any information from the Dominant, so he offered a curt nod and left office, and then the Estate.
Chapter 14
Bellis stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he scowled out at the forest from his home. Unlike other Walkers, Bellis’ home wasn’t at StoneCrow, nor was it at Apex. No, the reclusive Walker had built this place several years before, far from others of his kind. It had cost a small fortune, but as both Monroe’s and Tyce’s favored assassin, there wasn’t a price he couldn’t ask, which meant he’d become very wealthy. He also did some work on the side that neither Dominant knew about, and he’d been paid handsomely for each kill he’d made. In those instances though, it wasn’t about the money. It was about redeeming himself. He never killed a person that didn’t deserve it, and in most instances, the people he put do
wn needed putting down.
Nestled on the ridge of a mountaintop in the Little Belt Mountains, his home was close enough to StoneCrow that he could be there within minutes if he shifted and flew. Right now though, going back to StoneCrow was the last thing on his mind. His hands fisted as he thought about what Monroe had said. Distracted by his thoughts, his eyes locked on the quietly babbling creek that ran from behind his home and along its side before disappearing into the thick trees down the slope.
Sam. Her name ghosted across his mind and he slammed his eyes shut, the view out the floor to ceiling window disappearing as he breathed deep. You’re home. Just be home!
Slowly he opened his eyes and relaxed a little. This place was his definition of paradise. No road in. No road out. All the building materials had to be flown to the landing on the top of the mountain. It’d been difficult to direct construction via phone. Because of his looks, he wasn’t afforded the opportunity to interact with humans like other Walkers. It was one of the things he despised most about himself.
Glancing down at his arm, his jaw tensed at his coloring. He knew why he was like this, though he’d hoped that as he grew into adulthood, the oddities in his appearance would fade. They hadn’t, and he’d grown to accept them, but now his disdain for his appearance was back full-force. He knew why.
Sam. She’d called him a Demon, and it was grating. Mostly because he killed for a living, and he spent nearly every night of his life trying to convince himself that he was good, no matter what others may think. Plus, she lived with real demons, so she’d know one if she met one, wouldn’t she?
Tearing his eyes from the breathtaking view of the tree packed mountainside beneath his home, he turned and padded on bare feet across the slate gray tiles covering the expanse of the floor. His home had been built to be missed by the naked eye. The outside was all river rock and wooden beams, with roof shingles the color of spruce trees. Inside though, the place was state of the art. Because it was his sanctuary. He’d spared no expense, and every time he returned home he felt like that Bruce Wayne fuck he’d seen once in a movie.