Love's Subterfuge (Warrior Camp Book 12)

by Flynn Eire

  a

  If you did, thank you. Thank you for respecting me and other authors for their hard work, understanding this is our job, and while we love it, we do deserve to be compensated for all the hours, and hours, and hours we put into it.

  If you did not… Go buy one! You are a thief and your parents and grandparents and cute animals all around the world are ashamed of you. There is no justification for committing this crime because it is a crime, no different than walking into a physical bookstore, taking a print copy off the shelf, and walking out of the store without paying for it.

  There is no such thing as a victimless crime. If you truly believe that, you’ve never been a victim. And the victims aren’t only the authors, but the fans who lose authors that quit over our constantly being stolen from and mistreatment. Mistreating the authors that write the books you like or read—not liking them isn’t an excuse for theft, it’s just extra weird then—that’s not a fan. Fans leave reviews to support. Fans send messages of love. Fans… Well fans are nice. Be nice.

  There are lots of ways to fight eBook piracy, reporting the site even if you’re not the copyright holder is always a good option. If you want to help in the fight, Google it and you can see there are many ways.

  Zibon is being swallowed by the darkness. For a moment, things were getting better after La Salvezza and help was there, but that help has faded and the darkness is coming back. He doesn’t want to keep living like this, upset all the time he’s going crazy, his friends worried, and secrets eating him alive.

  And then a man steps out of the darkness, controlling it somehow, and he thinks he’s officially moved into Crazytown. The orange-eyed man is everything he’s ever wanted, though—exciting, appreciative, and truly sees Zibon for who he is.

  Fortunately for all vampires, their world is changing, some responding to the threats they face and fighting to help all their people. Unfortunately for Zibon, the orange-eyed man seems to be at the center of it all, and people are split over if he’s the one to help or make things worse. Zibon desperately wants to believe in him after he trusted him. But what does he really know about the stranger besides he seems to live in the darkness that wants to devour Zibon?

  1

  Several Months Ago

  “Do you ever feel as if the pain might suck you under?” Shane asked me as he plopped down next to me at the lounge we had and used for parties.

  “Yeah, all the damn time,” I admitted before tossing back the rest of my drink. “The dead haunt us and won’t let us move forward.”

  “Yeah, yeah they do,” he muttered, pouring me another one before he did himself.

  I wasn’t sure how that bright and shiny conversation led to us making out like drunken fools, but he started it. I remembered that much.

  And he wanted to go to his room.

  And he knew my name, but I think he was too drunk to say it right because he kept saying “Zizben” instead of Zibon. Whatever, I wasn’t sure I could say his name, either, I was so drunk.

  “God, I miss being fucked; just shove it in,” Shane begged me as he yanked off his clothes. I swear he said another name, but again, I wasn’t in my head.

  I had been right, though, because after I did, he started sobbing to keep fucking him Kevin. Awesome. I finally decide to have sex, even if it was a drunken stupid move, thinking I could feel something else with someone else in so much pain… But nope.

  He passed out after he finished, and I never came, my erection deflating. I picked up my shit and left, feeling that hole grow inside of me and worrying it might really suck me under. I got to my room and crashed on my bed, not even bothering cleaning up or getting under the covers, the alcohol hitting me so hard.

  The next morning, I dragged my ass to the showers, letting the freezing water wake me up, knowing I had to figure out something or I wasn’t going to make it. After I pulled it together enough to be seen and not have everyone jump on me, I headed to get food.

  Only to bump into Shane getting off the elevator.

  “Hey, we should talk,” I muttered, grabbing his arm and yanking him down the hallway. He gave me a confused look but let himself be dragged away. “Look, I know last night was—”

  “Last night? I didn’t even see you last night,” he interrupted, giving me a crazy look. “Zibon, I know you’re going through shit, but my plate is full. I can’t help you, man. I’ve got my own mess.” He pulled away and walked off, leaving me standing there with I was sure a stupid look on my face.

  He either had no idea what had happened, or he was so far into his shit, his denial of life, he was kidding himself. Either way, my own plate was full too, so there was no way of saving him or even being the person to help him because either of us trying to reach for the other would do nothing but drown us both, we were so messed up.

  That was for damn sure.

  ****

  Things got better. Sure, there were months of crazy after the attack, but everyone was upset and checking on each other, so I stopped feeling like I might drown. Then we went to Philo’s home, and I met Nicholas Sutton who worked with me and the pain, the guilt for so much. I started to feel like me again.

  Almost.

  We kept talking over Skype, but he was distant. Kept missing appointments and emailing me last minute that he was unavailable. Okay, so I was needy maybe?

  Was it okay for a therapist to let their patient feel that way though?

  I got somewhat of an answer when he flew out to meet with London Aberdeen and all of that crazy, telling me that things were just insane with other warriors realizing they could get real help and wanting it. Many more than those who lost their mates were showing up for help. He swore he wasn’t brushing me off and wanted to help.

  Okay, so that meant I was doing better than I thought maybe? My feelings were at least normal, so that was progress. He was pushing me out of the nest so I could take flight with the tools he’d given me.

  Except then he dumped me. My therapist dumped me. In email. How pathetic was that? I got dumped by my therapist over email saying it became a conflict for him, and passed me off to one of his siblings.

  Who can say things like that?

  I found myself storming over to see Philo, wanting to yell at someone from that family it seemed.

  “What the fuck is your brother’s problem?” I demanded as I interrupted his training with Norris. Their eyes went wide as they saw me, and I realized my fangs were out, hands turned into claws—full vamp mode. “I thought you said your family was the real deal? That they cared and—”

  “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you keep slamming my family and I won’t care and simply flatten you.”

  “Try it, fly boy,” I snarled, stepping closer. “Fine, maybe your whole family isn’t fucked, but your brother is a dick, and what the fuck can he have a conflict with? How do therapists even have a conflict?”

  Philo opened his mouth to yell at me, but what I said seemed to have sunk in, and he closed it slowly, studying me. “Did one of your parents die? If he had a family member as a patient, some would see that as a conflict.”

  “No, both my parents are alive and still assholes,” I bitched. “We’ve talked about them. He just up and fucking emails me after so many times ditching me that it’s now a conflict and one of your siblings will take over.”

  Philo frowned, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Dude, I got nothing. I’ll call home, but Nicholas is a good guy. He might need a break because the floodgates opened with warriors wanting help and didn’t want to upset you.”

  “I think anyone who has their therapist dump them over email gets upset.” His being calm made me
back down too. I let a slow breath in and out before my body returned to normal. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped on you. It’s just, email? Really? I’ve been worried I did something. Upset I’m so messed up that even a professional can’t help me. What the fuck, man? I felt better for a while, but then it’s like this is slowly dragging me back under.”

  I realized what I admitted when I saw their horror-filled expressions. I slowly backed away from them and what I was feeling as if I could run away from it.

  “Never mind. If anyone wants me, I’ll be working on the tunnel,” I muttered before hurrying off.

  Our society was on the brink of change, but no one seemed to know which way things were going to go. After months of covens and councils trying to get over their shock and disbelief at the attack on our camp, they seemed to do nothing but fight, as if that would help anything.

  And there were several fights. One was people saying we had to group together and stop being so spread out, as that was how most of the Quebec coven was taken out and other covens were having people picked off. But bringing covens in under coven leaders turned them into heartless nests, and whole cities of vampires had turned into zakasacs. Also, it grouped us all together to easily be wiped out.

  Idiots. The people in charge were complete idiots.

  While they all fought, a few were actually doing something useful like Councilman Theo Aston who had mated Evan, one of the warriors from this camp. Instead of being out in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, he’d bought a huge chunk of land out in the middle of nowhere Wyoming… Next to our camp, so that really was one of the safest places to be.

  Which was why he was offering a place to stragglers who didn’t want to go under their coven leader. It was a popular move with normal vampires, and I certainly wanted to stay out of the politics of it, but I hoped others would do the same. If nothing else, it gave us a way to finally get Amazon deliveries.

  It was going to be a lot of work and construction, and that also meant bug out tunnels should there be an attack. Hence, my decision to blow off the day but still be useful working on digging the almost mile-long tunnel to help construction.

  Mark found me there hours later and plopped down on the wall. Technically we were working on a huge trench that would be buried again after the concrete was all done. Again, not my thing. I just knew we had digging to do. Sure, we could get machines in, but that brought eyes. The plan was to do huge chunks that could easily be finished before any outside, nosy human eyes realized it.

  Worked for me. I enjoyed the peace of it.

  “You’re worrying people,” he muttered, handing me down a beer when I pulled out my earbuds.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Zibon, don’t fucking lie to me,” he snapped, pulling the bottle back.

  “I thought I was getting fine,” I muttered, snatching the beer.

  “Shane’s gone. Officially. Not just storming out and saying he’s quitting, like papers went through and he’s gone.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Something more is going on there than an unrequited love.”

  “I have a few ideas, but honestly, they don’t paint Kevin in the best light so, yeah, I keep my mouth shut when we’re still new and he wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know him besides he sort of seemed full of himself,” Mark admitted with a shrug. “What are you thinking?”

  “That Kevin fucked Shane knowing Shane loved him and used his best friend that way,” I confessed, catching Mark’s bottle when he dropped it. “As I said, not something to bring up.”

  “What made you go there, man? Seriously, that’s some dark shit.”

  I pounded my beer and tossed up the empty bottle to him before taking a swig of his. “Shane and I had drunk sex. A while ago. Like right after the attack when I was all dark and drowning.”

  “Why do I not think it ended well?”

  “No, it was bad,” I chuckled, shaking my head bitterly. “I don’t know if he was so sloshed he had no idea really, or if he was so in his head he didn’t know anything, but he kept calling me Kevin. As if that was normal or something. And Wally reminded me that he told Roarke he was seeing someone. Except he wasn’t. So who would have gotten upset if Roarke did Shane?”

  “Shit, man, there’s some serious darkness in people,” Mark whispered, opening another beer. He reached behind him and tossed down a bag after dropping another next to him. “I brought you food. I heard about Nicholas. What’s up with that?”

  “Fuck if I know.” I plopped on my butt and leaned against the side of the trench, staring up at him. “I don’t know, Mark. I felt like someone was pulling me out of the darkness, and then slowly he’s been letting go like I did something wrong. Or could I be so fucked in the head that—”

  “No, no, Zibon. Your first assignment went to shit, and none of us have had an easy go since. Okay? I get it. I’ve had nightmares about all the zakasacs we killed that night. None of this is easy unless you are crazy. We all gotta stop with the shit of not talking because we’re guys. Wally almost imploded. Bowie sort of did but then got it together. I’m worried about Ellison. He’s not returned any message or anything since he got assigned to Quebec. Lance has buried his shit with his dad so far down—”

  “Nate’s setting shit on fire,” I added, bobbing my head, not really wanting to get into the stuff with Lance because I felt guilty there too. “Gary is a bag of guilt, but I think that’s getting better. Yeah, okay, it’s not just me.”

  “No, it’s not just you, and apparently Lance is getting his gift and didn’t tell us. Didn’t know and thought the crazy around all of us was eating him. Gary’s mom figured it out, and now even London, who’s totally cool, was so fucked over at his camp that… That’s bad. That’s deep-seated bad. You’re not alone, Zibon, okay? It’s not just you.”

  “Thanks.” We didn’t say anything for a few minutes as we stuffed our faces with burgers and fries. “Why would a therapist have a conflict? I mean, what defines a conflict? Philo said if he worked with my parents or something, but what else counts?”

  “Your romance novels would say if they had feelings for their patient,” he teased me but then slowly frowned when I did. “Shit, no, he’s straight, right?”

  “Apparently that didn’t stop Kevin from fucking over Shane,” I drawled but then dropped it. Mark had grown up with such normal, loving parents and family that sometimes I had trouble talking to him about dark stuff as if I was rusting his bright and shiny outlook.

  We talked for a bit longer about bullshit and rumors we were getting a new dorm built since the camps were expanding, or at least not shipping people off when they hit twenty-five to private positions. That wouldn’t help bring groups together to be more secure, and we were too far out to have so few people.

  He made me promise not to keep working until late, grabbing our garbage and showing me the cooler he left of water and beer. I thought it was weird to bring beer, but I guessed from the look in his eyes that he hoped I’d have a few more than I could handle and shovel and risk being out too late and crash. Smart.

  But most days I wasn’t anymore. I looked away from his knowing gaze, swallowing down what I was feeling too and deciding to keep going.

  Theo was smart to not even let piles of dirt build, which could get noticed, and instead he had a semi switch out the trailers we were filling by some sort of suction after we had lots of loosened dirt. I guess growing up around dirty and sneaky had some uses when used by the good guys.

  I wished my asshole parents had taught me something useful at least.

  Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize it was night with our awesome vision until someone pulled out my earbuds. I yelped and spun around, my shovel easily getting taken away. “It’s dangerous to be out this late, young warrior.”

  “Yeah, yeah it is,” I agreed as I hurried out of the trench, not sure who or what I was talking to since I couldn’t seem to find them in the dark. I yanked out two bottles of water from the cooler and plopp
ed onto it, holding one out. “I get a bit of tunnel vision. Thanks.”

  “You are a smart one,” he chuckled, and the voice seemed to come from everywhere. But then I saw a shifting of the darkness, and my breath hitched.

  “Wyrok,” I breathed.

  “Now how does such a young warrior know that?” he murmured, somehow stepping out of the darkness, as if it was a box or something. He studied me closely and moved forward, still hiding himself somewhat except his orange eyes.

  But those I looked away from.

  “Oh, you are interesting, young warrior. You know what I can do somehow. There is no other reason to avert your gaze from mine.”

  “Yes.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, but as I knew he had strong persuasion, I knew not to bother lying to him. “If I tell you, will you swear not to fuck with my mind? It’s fucked up enough, and I don’t think I could take it.”

  “Dark, I like it,” he purred. I felt him take the bottle of water before I saw his shoes. “Alright, young warrior, how do you know?”

  I frowned. My answer wasn’t exactly straightforward. “I don’t know. Just somehow I started knowing. I thought I was losing it even worse. Someone asked what their gift was around me, and I felt myself want to answer. Knowing the answer. And then again. Another time. And now it’s worse.”

  “You know your friend’s gift before it’s actually appeared,” he said, sounding as if it was a guess.

  “That’s insane, right?” I whispered, shaking my head before downing the rest of my water.

  “Not at all. You know I have two gifts I am so old. I find there is limitless possibilities on this planet we live.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” And then it hit me. “No one knows you’re here. Why show yourself to me?”

  “Have I? I believe you know nothing about me, and who would believe you after you were working so long and so late drinking,” he murmured. I let out a heavy sigh, and he chuckled. “You are delicious, and it would sadden me for such a delicious young warrior to get hurt by the monsters that prey on those in the dark, or the unstable part of that trench fell on you.”