by Faith Gibson
“I have to say, I’m a bit intrigued,” the young man said, as he took the seat across from her. Hagen was a senior who would be graduating in a couple of months. If he was capable of doing what she needed, he would have a job before he received his diploma. Kallisto pushed a piece of paper in front of the man and waited on him to read it. Once he had looked over the document, he raised his eyes to her, his smile even wider than before. “Please, tell me more.”
Kallisto had been vague in the ad, but the paper she’d shown Hagen outlined the specifics of the job. “I do apologize for the vagueness of the post, but I didn’t want to run the risk of having someone with no sense of adventure calling the authorities on me. I’ll be honest with you. I’m looking for someone who is capable of hacking into the best systems in the world. Most of what I will need you to do is above board, but there will be times you will need to be able to cover your tracks, if you get my meaning.”
“I have no problem with that, and I’m willing to sign the confidentiality agreement.”
“I will need to see what you’re capable of first, but if you pass the test, you will be given a job with one of the wealthiest men in Greece, my father. You will work for him, yet I will be your boss. You will move into the five thousand square foot villa where I live and will be given the salary stated on the paper in front of you, but your life will become mine. Once you receive your diploma, you’ll be on the clock twenty-four seven.”
“For that amount of money, I’ll paint your nails and give you massages.”
“That won’t be necessary, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.” Kallisto eyed the young man, thinking as cute as he was she might take him up on other ways to pass the time. “If you truly are interested, I would like to take you somewhere to test your abilities.”
“Let’s go,” Hagen said.
Kallisto stood and motioned for the man to move ahead of her, but he held out his arm, “Please, ladies first.” She inclined her head in appreciation and made her way to the door.
Once outside, she led him to the car where a Gargoyle named Rowan was waiting. He held open the back door until both Kallisto and Hagen were seated before making his way to the driver’s seat. Instead of taking him to the villa, Rowan drove them to an office building Kallisto had set up for this purpose. Having as much money as Alistair meant she had the resources to rent an office and outfit it with the most sophisticated equipment available. She still couldn’t believe in all the hundreds of Gargoyles that lived in Greece, her father couldn’t find another computer genius in the bunch.
When they arrived, Rowan opened the door to the back seat, helping Kallisto to her feet. The Goyle never spoke in front of others, but she knew his voice was deep and hypnotic. When he was first assigned to the villa, Kallisto had tried to seduce him. He’d told her he was flattered, but he was mated to a female and had no interest in straying. That surprised Kallisto, since she knew of few remaining female Gargoyles. She didn’t ask, but for him to have a mate, he must be as old as her father.
Kallisto directed Hagen to a room in the back of the office. When he stepped inside, his mouth fell open. “Holy shit. This is some high-tech equipment you have.”
“Yes, it is. Pass the test, and it’s all yours. Now, take a seat. Your instructions are on the paper in front of you. You have one hour to get in and back out of all the systems without being caught.”
Hagen took a seat and read over the typed instructions in front of him. He then laced his fingers together, cracked his knuckles, and began typing. Kallisto stood over his shoulder only momentarily. She had watched the others and couldn’t decipher any of the gibberish they were typing. If Hagen was as good as she figured him to be, he would be entering code that would disappear as quickly as it appeared. Making her way to the front of the office, she took a seat behind the desk and opened the laptop. She decided a little shopping was in order while she waited.
Katherine’s head pounded like she was on a three-day bender. Not that she’d been on one of those, but her pulse echoed with every beat of her heart. When she woke up earlier, she had been groggy. Wisps of a conversation from her dream taunted the edges of her mind. She had dreamed talking to Julian, hadn’t she? There’s no way she could’ve carried on a conversation with the man in her mind. While trying to make sense of the dream, Kat had eaten her breakfast.
The meal had been brought to her by a guard she didn’t recognize. The man didn’t speak. He placed the tray in the open slot and waited for her to take it, keeping his bright green eyes glued to hers the whole time. When she took the tray from him, he cocked his head to the side as if studying her before walking away without saying a word. He had an air about him much like Julian. He was handsome. Confident.
The food was the same as it had been every day since they’d started feeding her. It was soon after she finished eating that her head began to hurt. It was a slow aching at first, but it soon turned into the sharp stabs she was currently enduring. She had no doubt she’d been drugged, but to what end? Covering her head with her pillow to block out the light, she sat in the corner of her cell with her cheek pressed to the cold concrete wall at the back of the small room. She was already shivering from being cold. As long as she sat there, the pain never lessened and the shaking became worse. She didn’t move when she heard the slot open for her lunch. There was no way Kat could eat anything. She’d throw it up even if she could have moved from her spot on the floor.
When she didn’t get up, the slot closed, the door opened, and the sound of plastic met concrete as the tray was slid into her cell. At least that’s what it sounded like from behind the pillow. If this was another type of torture, it was one of the worst the way it lingered. Everything else she’d endured had been drawn out, but it ceased eventually. Kat didn’t think this pain was ever going to go away.
Add the throbbing behind her skull to the ache in her ear, and she was ready to pass out. Maybe if she moved and vomited, whatever was in her system would be flushed out and the pain would subside. Removing the pillow, Kat cracked her eyes open. The intensity of the light slammed into her brain, and the nausea washed over her. Twisting around, she made it to her knees before she expelled the breakfast she’d eaten earlier. Her gut spasmed over and over until she was dry heaving. She would probably be punished for soiling her cell, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let them win at this fucked-up game they were playing.
Kat crawled a few feet away from the vomit and lay down on the floor with her cheek against the cool concrete. She once again covered her face with the pillow, blocking out the light. The pain was worse than before she threw up, but Kat prayed getting the poison out of her system would help alleviate the ache eventually. Closing her eyes, she wished the voice in her head would return so she’d have something to focus on other than the pain. Kat did her best to remember the conversation with Julian. He said he was close and he was coming to get her. He needed to hurry.
Chapter Eight
Urijah was no better off three weeks later than he’d been the day he returned home to New Atlanta. If it wasn’t for training, he probably would have disappeared, but now he couldn’t. Rafael wanted Uri to lead his brothers into war. There was no way he would shirk his duties to the Clan, and there was also no way he could avoid asking Banyan to join the fight considering he was equally as skilled as Urijah was with a sword. Two thousand miles wasn’t far enough between Uri and his mate for his sanity. Fighting side-by-side with Banyan was going to do Uri in.
He’d been a fool to think he and Finley could have something special outside of friendship. Seeing his best friend in California with Sinclair and the two women had been the wake-up call he needed. Finley would never feel the same about Uri as Uri did him. Did he really want a relationship with a male who wasn’t his mate?
I still love you. Banyan’s words were branded into his memory as was the kiss they shared. No matter what Uri did, those tormented words haunted his every waking moment. He stuck his hand in his pocket and
rubbed the ring he kept on him at all times. The weight often gave him a sense of peace until he remembered what happened thirty years before. It wasn’t like he was willing to forgive Banyan for what happened in New Orleans.
He had known Banyan for almost eight hundred years, and he’d known the male was his mate for almost as long. What he didn’t know was how Banyan could be from an Original bloodline. Their fathers had been best friends. They had forged weapons side-by-side as long as Uri could remember. Their homes had been in the same village, and Banyan’s family had not been any better off than Uri’s. If they were Originals, they would have lived in a manor worthy of royalty as was the case with Originals all those years ago. Instead, the Sorensen’s home was as modest as the Aldobrand’s.
Urijah shouldn’t care that much about Banyan’s bloodline, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something. Where Banyan came from shouldn’t matter, since Uri had no intention of ever completing the bond with Banyan, but it did matter. It bothered Uri that he didn’t know his mate at all. Had never truly known him. That much was evident by the events in New Orleans. The male he thought he knew turned out to be a complete stranger. What did you expect when you hadn’t seen him in over four hundred years? Uri expected him to be the same easy-going friend he’d grown up with instead of the…
The only way he was going to find out the truth of Banyan’s past other than asking the male himself was to ask the one Goyle who knew everything about everyone – Nikolas. Urijah had to satisfy his curiosity. Once that was done, he’d put it behind him. He had a war to help plan, and knowing about Banyan’s heritage might not help in any capacity, but it would be one less thing on Urijah’s mind to distract him from leading the Clan against Alistair.
Julian was at his wits’ end with regards to the basement. When Tessa arrived back at the ranch, she nodded her head at the overflowing garbage can and said, “Damn, Jules. How many sodas have you had?” She was carrying two computer monitors, so he stood and took them from her.
He wasn’t a big coffee drinker, so he opted for the caffeine from sodas to give him a boost. Considering his Gargoyle metabolism, it took a lot of the sugary drinks to do the trick. He shrugged and replied, “Not enough.”
“Have you found anything on the basement?” she asked as she sat down next to Gregor to look at the screens monitoring FSM.
“Not yet, and I’m afraid I’m not going to at this point.”
Tessa asked Julian, “Have you asked Landon for help? Not saying he’s better than you…”
“He is better than me. I have not reached out to him yet. Thank you for getting these. It saved me a trip to town.”
“You’re welcome.” Tessa waited as he turned one of the monitors her way. As soon as it was hooked up, she pulled her laptop toward her and found the software that allowed her to see inside both agents’ homes.
“Are you worried he’s not who he says he is? Sophia was adamant he’s hiding something,” Gregor asked.
“I put a tracer on all the computers at the lab. I can follow every keystroke he makes, and I haven’t caught him doing anything suspicious.”
“I hate to say this, but if he is better than you, wouldn’t he be able to detect your tracers?” Tessa asked.
Julian shrugged. “That’s just it; I don’t know.”
“I think you should ask him for help with FSM. If he wants to cover his ass with whatever game he’s playing – if he is playing a game – he’s going to help you if he can. He hasn’t sabotaged anything since he’s been at the lab, has he?”
“No. He’s been able to find things I couldn’t like Katherine’s whereabouts. Whether or not he is hiding his true identity, he hasn’t done anything detrimental to the Clan that I am aware of. I am going to call him. We need to get into the facility, and we are going to need those schematics to do it.” Julian picked up his phone and dialed the male. New Atlanta was an hour later time wise, but it wasn’t so late Landon should have already gone home.
“Julian, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Landon asked upon answering.
“I need your help. I’m looking into the architectural plans for FSM in Texas. I am sending everything I already have to the main frame. What I need help with is finding the drawings for a basement at the facility. This takes priority over everything else with the exception of anything Rafael asks for.”
“I’ll start looking now. Is there anything else I can help with?”
“No. Like I said, this is priority.”
“Then I’ll get to it.”
“Thank you, Landon.” Julian disconnected and scrubbed a hand down his face. He tossed back the can he’d been drinking from only to find it empty. “I’m going to take a walk,” he said, adding the empty container to the others in the trash can. Neither Gregor nor Tessa responded as he let himself out the back door. Every time one of the mates had been in trouble, Julian had wondered how the males were able to keep their shifter under control. Now he knew the answer – with a lot of mental force. His beast was constantly at the forefront of his mind, pushing to be turned loose. It wasn’t helping the situation at all. Katherine. Their mate’s name came unbidden from within, and it surprised Julian. It was the first word it had spoken, and Julian couldn’t ignore it.
He made his way to the barn where he could hide from the bright sunshine. Instead of retreating to the loft as he had before, Julian remained down below, not wanting a repeat of his shifter surprising him. He closed the door behind him, blocking out quite a bit of daylight. Julian sat with his back against a stall door and willed his mind to relax and his shifter to leave him alone long enough to try reaching out to Kat. Mentally, he called to his mate. Kat, are you there, Sweetheart?
He thought he felt something tugging at the outer recesses of his consciousness, so he tried again. Katherine, it’s Julian. Can you hear me?
It hurts.
What hurts, Sweetheart?
My head. Make it stop.
Am I hurting you?
No. Food. Poisoned. Can’t…
Kat, Sweetheart, you can’t what? Kat? Are you still there? I need your help. Katherine?
Julian lost the connection, and his shifter roared in his head as well as his body. “Stop it! I cannot help her with you acting like an ass!” he yelled, even though it wasn’t necessary. Julian was pissed that his mate had been poisoned. He sprung up from the ground and ran back to the house.
“Julian, what’s wrong, Brother?” Gregor asked as soon as Julian cleared the door.
“They’re poisoning Katherine. I’ve got to get in there.”
“You can’t, Jules. Not until we have a solid plan and the masks,” Tessa stated. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t help the anxiety that was getting worse the longer Kat was imprisoned.
“I know you’re right, but fuck!” Julian paced the length of the kitchen into the living room and back. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging the ends. There was nothing that could ease his torment. Not even letting the beast loose would be enough. Not until he had Kat safe in his arms.
“I take it you reached her again?” Gregor asked with his eyes glued to the monitors.
“Yes. She could barely speak. She’s in pain. When I get my hands on Rayaz, I’m going to kill the bitch,” Julian seethed.
“You can’t go killing humans, Jules.”
“But they’re torturing an innocent woman!”
“They don’t know that. You’ve seen the evidence. If you didn’t know Kat was your mate, what would you think if you saw the proof they saw?” Gregor held his hands up. “I’m playing devil’s advocate here, Brother. Don’t get mad at me. Get mad at the one responsible for falsifying documents. For setting your mate up.”
“I swear by all that’s holy, when I find the bastard responsible, I will have his godsdamn head on a pike in my front yard.”
“And I’ll help you put it there, but for now, you need to calm the fuck down. You aren’t doing Katherine any good by losing your shit. The masks wil
l be here tomorrow. Hopefully by then, Landon will have found a way into the basement. Why don’t you get started on supper and clear your mind? Tessa’s waiting for Rayaz to get home, and I’m not taking my eyes off the prison.”
Julian willed himself to calm down. He knew his cousin was right. Both Gregor and Tessa were being the calm he needed. He did as Gregor suggested and started pulling things out of the refrigerator to cook. Tessa had the sound turned up on her laptop as she watched both Rayaz and Everhart go about their business at home.
Everhart was quiet, settling in with his take-out Chinese food and a baseball game. Rayaz was a different story. She talked to her brother on the phone while cooking supper. When she’d disconnected, the agent sang a song in Spanish while stirring whatever was on the stove. She drank a glass of wine, and when her food was ready, she poured another. The bitch responsible for torturing his mate acted as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She would care when Julian got finished with her.
He had just finished plating their meal when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, his heart sped up at the possibility that Landon had found something. “Landon?”
“I just sent the information to your email. It took some deep digging, but I found what you were looking for. One of the contractors had not destroyed the plans like they were supposed to. The government was serious about keeping the basement a secret.”
Julian forgot all about the food and pulled up the email. “I got it. Thanks, Landon. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”
“Just doing my job. Let me know if you need anything else.”