Beyond Addiction

by Kit Rocha

  She'd have to add it to all the other worries sitting heavy on her shoulders. "Could you also tell Rachel that her order will be ready to pick up tomorrow? I just need to bottle it."

  He looked around the shop, but his reply had nothing to do with her orders. "Were they giving you a hard time?"

  You didn't lie to an O'Kane, especially not to one as powerful as Jasper. But she didn't have the luxury of whining, either. "No worse than usual."

  "Is that why Stuart was about to pound that little creep into a greasy stain on your floor?"

  Stuart had been defending Dallas, not her. Not the Stone Princess. The O'Kanes might treat her kindly, but too many of their most devoted followers had suffered pain and tragedy at her family's hands. They tolerated her, but they would never love her. "It's okay, Jasper, I promise. As long as Dallas and Lex believe that I'm loyal, the rest doesn't matter to me."

  "Maybe it matters to us." He paused and searched her face. "Wallace, right? That's the guy making trouble. He shouldn't have a beef with you."

  Oh yes, Jasper knew everything. About Wallace, about her sister. About the tightrope Tatiana had to walk, weighing family against her future. "I have something Wallace wants."

  Jasper nodded again. "Yeah, I guess you do." He took a step back. "If he crosses the line, you don't have to put up with it. Remember that, okay?"

  "I'll remember," she promised, a little truth to hide her lie. She'd remember, all right. But, loyal to the O'Kanes or not, she was still her father's daughter.

  If Wallace crossed the line, she'd take care of it like a Stone.

  Personally. Permanently.

  The third blow that Zan landed hurt him more than it hurt his sparring partner.

  He drew his fist back and gritted his teeth against the urge to cradle his shoulder. "Doc's version of physical therapy sucks."

  Cruz's tight smile held an edge of sympathy--but only a little. "You think this is bad, be glad you never met a Special Tasks doctor."

  They couldn't be tougher than Doc, blearily blinking his way through a hangover, smacking him on the shoulder and reminding him it could be a hell of a lot worse. "It makes no sense. I got shot a couple of times, but regen tech took care of all the life-threatening shit. Completely healed. The only thing that still hurts is the one wound that wouldn't have killed me anyway."

  "Makes decent sense to me," Cruz replied with infuriating calm. "It's triage. Sometimes with regen, you have to pick your battles. I saw you when you came in, Zan. They had a lot to fix."

  He'd come close to death, that much was undeniable. "I remember some of it."

  "I know what you mean." The taller man stepped back and reached for a bottle of water. "It's like a bad dream. Flashes you remember, but half the time it barely makes sense."

  He remember the kidnappers, the gunfire. His last glimpse of Trix before the van door slammed, shutting out everything but the slick red haze of pain. "It ended okay. I'm grateful for that."

  "Everyone's home safe," Cruz agreed. "Even you."

  His own safety mattered less than the fact that Trix had made it home largely unscathed. "I was supposed to protect her."

  "I know." Cruz held out a second bottle of water. "But you can't plan for everything. You can't plan for crazy, and that's what that attack was."

  "Crazy," Zan muttered, still unsettled. He turned to the heavy bag hanging from a bracket in the corner and gave it a good whack. "It'd be easier if I was back to regular duty. At least I could keep busy."

  "We need you out there. That's why I'm pushing you with the shoulder, man." Cruz shook his head. "Did you know Jas broke up a fight when he checked in on the Stone girl last night?"

  Zan's next blow glanced off the patched surface of the bag and sent it swinging. It rebounded and smacked him in the good shoulder. "He what? At Tatiana's place?"

  "Mmm, Stuart was about to throw down on that Wallace kid. They were having a meeting at her shop, I guess, and he started talking shit."

  About Dallas, no doubt. It was the only thing that would prompt Stuart to a fight--and it left Tatiana caught in the middle. "Shit. I should have checked on her myself instead of sending Jas."

  "Jas handled it." Cruz steadied the punching bag and gave him a look--one he could have learned from Lex. "You needed the rest. And now you need this practice, so we can get you out there scowling at people again."

  How much do you like being weak? Zan bit his tongue to hold back the question. None of this was Cruz's fault anyway, and he only spoke the truth.

  They were all just trying to help.

  It didn't ease the tension tightening the muscles in Zan's back and neck. "Tomorrow, same time?"

  "Absolutely. You're making progress. You'll be busting heads in no time."

  "Yeah." Zan draped a towel around his neck and cracked open the bottle of water. Under normal circumstances, he'd hit the shower and head over to Tatiana's shop to keep an eye on the place. But he wasn't functioning at a hundred percent, and if his presence stirred up trouble, she might pay the price.

  It wasn't like he could take care of her, not right now.

  Instead, he showered and went to the bar. It was still closed, the shutters open to let in the slanting, early morning sunlight. It always looked so odd this time of day--quiet, deserted, the chairs turned up on the tables. The main room had been cleaned already, and the only activity was bustling back in the kitchen and behind the bar.

  "Like this," Noelle was saying as she swiped her finger over the tablet on the scratched surface of the bar. "We track the drinks as we make them."

  Dallas squinted at the tablet with the sort of mistrust a man usually reserved for his enemy. "Counting stock at the end of the night's worked just fine for a decade."

  Noelle smiled as she set the tablet into a stand behind the bar. "You were the one who wanted to work smarter instead of harder. Besides, the data syncs with Ford and Mia's new system. They can analyze trends and adjust trading priorities."

  "All right," Dallas growled. "You win, kitten. Tech all around."

  Zan couldn't help but grin. "You giving up the good fight, Dallas?"

  "Adapt or die, right?" He shook his head and leaned against the bar. "It was bad enough when it was just Noelle making big eyes at me--"

  Noelle, who had been as docile as the kitten Dallas had nicknamed her for only a few months ago, made a rude gesture.

  "--but now I've got Mia tearing through this place, wringing her hands at how inefficient we are. Sometimes I miss the days where all I had to worry about was keeping the stills and my skin in one piece."

  Zan would have recognized the words for a lie even in the early days. Dallas had never wanted anything more than he wanted to protect his people, and financial security offered the best opportunity for that. If streamlining their liquor business would help, Dallas would install a fucking computer in his own damn head.

  But their leader had a cranky, forbidding image to maintain, so Zan fought to keep his expression neutral. "Just think about the money."

  "Damn straight." Dallas grinned at Zan. "And maybe I'll think about watching Jasper spank this little brat's backside once for every time she's rude to me."

  Noelle made a much, much ruder gesture.

  Zan covered his face. "Hey, now. My virgin eyes."

  "Sorry," Noelle said, almost managing to sound contrite. "I have to go talk to Mia. I'll be extra rude to you later, Dallas."

  "I'm sure you will," he drawled, giving in to a chuckle as the back door slammed behind her. "I can't decide if Lex is a wonderful or terrible influence on that girl."

  "Can't be both?" Zan pulled out a stool and sank onto it. "I heard there was trouble at the merchants' meeting."

  Dallas's humor faded. "Yeah. That punk who took over Walt's shop has been waving his dick around, trying to get it twisted off."

  "How much of a pain in the ass is he gonna be?"

  "Christ only knows, but probably a bigger one now that he's managed to talk one of Stone's girls into
fucking him."

  Matthew Stone had ruled Sector Four before Dallas ousted him, and having one of the man's daughters by Wallace's side would mean respectability among some of the old-timers. Not everyone was happy with the law and order the O'Kane reign had brought to the sector, but no one had dared to speak against him--yet. But if Wallace could rally enough support around him...

  He wouldn't just speak out, he'd fight. He'd lose, no question about that, but crushing the rebellion could do Dallas more harm than the rebellion itself. It could make him look like a tyrant.

  "It's a bad situation," Zan mused.

  "It sure could be." Dallas tapped his finger on the bar. "Seems like Tatiana could shut some of it down. You've always kept a pretty close eye on her. You got any pull there?"

  "No." His answer came too forcefully, and he shook his head with a sigh. "You know how it is. Too much attention can seem like a demand, so I keep my distance."

  "You may not be able to forever." Dallas's brow furrowed. "Not that I'm saying you should make like Wallace and hit that. But if this shit escalates, she'll have to have to pick a side. I really hope it's ours."

  All Tatiana wanted was to run her shop. "Then we need to stop it from escalating."

  "Can we?" Dallas grimaced and waved his hand. "Scratch that. The real question is, can you? I know your shoulder's still giving you grief, but we're spread awful fucking thin, man. Crazy shit is brewing, and I feel like I'm juggling knives."

  "I can talk to Tatiana," Zan offered. "Chances are good she doesn't like having her sister involved with Wallace, either."

  "Who the fuck would?" Dallas slapped the bar and straightened. "In a perfect world, I'd give you another week off your feet to mend up. But we need you."

  "I've got this." He was an O'Kane. It was his responsibility to take care of things, to handle whatever needed to be done--even if it involved Tatiana. "I won't let you down again."

  "Zan." His leader's expression was serious as he reached out to grip his arm. "You never have."

  He had to say it, because Dallas O'Kane wasn't the sort of man to kick you when you were down. Zan nodded again and slid off the stool. "I'll head over early so I can be back before nightfall."

  "Good. And, Zan? Watch your back."

  Beyond Possession comes out on November 10th, but you can pre-order it now.

  About the Author

  Kit Rocha is the pseudonym for co-writing team Donna Herren and Bree Bridges. After penning dozens of paranormal novels, novellas and stories as Moira Rogers, they branched out into gritty, sexy dystopian romance. The Beyond series has appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and was honored with a 2013 RT Reviewer’s Choice award. Get updates about their new books by subscribing to their announcement list, or visit their website at kitrocha.com

  Acknowledgements

  The list of people we need to thank grows with every book, because keeping up with a series is tough. We owe eternal thanks to our editor, Sasha Knight, our eagle-eyed proofer, Sharon Muha, and to Lillie Applegarth, official Keeper of the O'Kane Bible. We owe bunches to our early readers, especially Tracy and Jay, who always keep the peace at the Broken Circle while we're finishing a book or starting a book or crying over how we just broke a book. Speaking of crying, a million thanks to the people who hug, pet, slap and kick us through and out of our panic attacks--The Loop That Shall Not Be Named and the Awesome Indies especially.

  Last, but never least, our readers. Whether you're a regular at the Broken Circle or on your first trip to Sector Four, thank you for buying, reading, sharing and celebrating. O'Kane for life!

  Copyright Information

  Beyond Addiction

  Copyright © 2014 by Kit Rocha

  This novella is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.