Damon

by J. C. Daniels

  “Stop.”

  “Again, do you want me to lie?” Chang approached, rare fury setting his eyes to glow. “You brought that boy into my life as well. You know how I feel about him. The first few years of his life, he will face challenge after challenge and you will not be able to help him. One of her men will go after him and they may well do it to get to you or me.”

  “Shit.” I shoved the heels of my hands against my eyes. “Okay. Okay. Maybe we should leave.”

  “You are still like a child at times,” Chang said.

  Lowering my hands, I glared at him.

  “Decide what it is you want—not what is easiest. But what you want.” The words came out in a sharp, deep growl, one that held an echo of the power he had inside him—and the fury.

  His black eyes bled to pure gold for a moment as we stared at each other.

  Tension pulsed, hot and potent.

  Then Chang blinked and looked away.

  I sucked in air, waiting for the unrest in the air to pop and dissipate. There’s a reason a couple of strong-ass bastards like us rarely make for close friends. If he wasn’t so much older than I was, he probably would have already killed me.

  And he could.

  Chang was, without a doubt, the strongest shifter I’d ever met.

  He moved to his desk, his movements now calm and unhurried. “You wish me to speak to Doyle.”

  With my mind spinning and my gut feeling oddly hollow, I nodded and met his eyes. “I think it might help.”

  “Then the next time I see him, I’ll talk to him.” He frowned and glanced toward the window. “It’s been a few days, so he could very well show up sometime this afternoon.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean, it’s been a few days?”

  “Just that. He hasn’t been around.” Chang met my eyes. “I haven’t seen him in two days, Damon.”

  “Ah…” It was probably nothing. Nah. It was nothing. Had to be. But… “What about the kids he hangs out with? Have they been in?”

  Chang cocked his head, then moved to this computer, tapping a few instructions in. “Yes, at one time or another. Most of them are here now, as a matter of fact.”

  “But not Doyle.”

  “No.” He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt. “Is something wrong?”

  “Probably not.” I smiled at him and shrugged. But I had a feeling I was lying.

  Chapter Six

  That icy cold sensation had spread to my gut and even further.

  Yesterday, when I talked to Chang, I’d been uneasy.

  Now, after three days of not seeing the kid, I was as close to terrified as I’d ever been.

  I couldn’t find Doyle.

  He wasn’t in any of his normal hang-outs and when I talked to his friends, I got the run around.

  I couldn’t say they were lying, but they weren’t being straight-up with me either and I’d spent the day talking to just about every single kid Doyle knew.

  Late afternoon found me just a block away from a burger joint near the trenches.

  It also found me facing a couple of shifters, two more of Annette’s enforcers. One of them was little more than brainless muscle. The other one was a fairly average-looking man with white hair, an easy-going smile and a similar easy-going manner that could fool almost anybody into thinking he wasn’t much of a threat.

  That was only one of the reasons he was a threat.

  He was sly and quick-thinking, and he didn’t serve under Annette out of sheer fear or because he liked inciting it, either. One of Annette’s higher-leveling enforcers, he approached me with a friendly smile that didn’t fool me at all.

  “We need to talk for a minute, Damon,” he said. He gave me an affable smile. “You need to go to see the Lady. She’s got some questions for you.”

  “I’m working.”

  He hitched up a shoulder. “I’m just passing the message. She’s got people out looking for you. Apparently, the past few days have been a bit of a problem…no tithes coming in from you.”

  Tithes.

  She brought in more money in a week than a hundred families here combined and she was bitching because I hadn’t deposited her tithes for a couple of days. “I’ve got it,” I said. Most of it. “I’ll get it into her accountant’s hands in a couple of hours.”

  “That’s fine. Now go back to the Lair,” Roger said, still smiling. “And tell her. She’s not happy. Said you haven’t been answering her calls, either.”

  I eyed him, then shot a glance at the still-silent shifter at his side. Was it worth taking them both down?

  But just as I figured it would be, I grew aware of several others. Like five of them. All enforcers, and they were drawing in closer.

  “Don’t try it, Damon,” Roger said, shaking his head. “We’re just doing what we do—like you. Working.”

  * * * * *

  “Did you just tell me what you had time for?”

  Annette rubbed her hands together, staring me down.

  My mouth stung from the backhand, blood roaring in my ears. She’d hit me with the same force as always, expecting me to fall. But I didn’t have the time to take a beating, or heal from it. Not if I was going to find out what in the hell was going on with Doyle.

  He’s been gone too long…

  Urgency was wearing down on me and with every passing minute, it got worse.

  “I asked for a few moments to speak with you—if you’d allow it, you’d understand why I don’t have time.” Blood pooled in my mouth and I was of a mind to spit it on the ivory carpet, just to piss her off. Instead, I swallowed it and wiped my hand over the back of my mouth.

  We were alone in the room, but she must have forgotten that because she turned and gestured…to nobody. I already knew what she’d been about to do. She’d sicced others on me before.

  I wasn’t doing that either. If I had to kill half of the men she sent after me, I would. It would be showing my hand—or my teeth, to be more accurate—but I’d do it. Nothing was going to keep me here when I needed to be out there tracking down the kid.

  “Doyle’s missing,” I said, cutting her off when she went to blister my ears again.

  She went silent, staring at me with confusion.

  “He’s…what?” Slowly, her lashes swept down over her eyes and when she looked back at me, the familiar veil of blood-lust and rage had faded, replaced by the true Alpha—the closest to sane she ever got. “Please explain this to me, Damon.”

  “He’s missing. I’ve spent the past couple of days looking for him. That’s why I’m behind on the tithes.”

  “Fuck the tithes,” she said, brushing them off as if the money mattered little to her.

  Right now, it probably didn’t. It would, later.

  She turned and moved over to the white leather couch, sinking down on it and curling her legs up next to her. “Sit, Damon.”

  My blood boiled at the order but complied, taking the chair across from her instead of the space she’d indicated. It was a small, bullshit challenge, but she didn’t even notice it, her eyes blazing and bright as she studied me. “When did you last see him?

  “A couple days ago. He left a note said he’d be staying with friends.”

  “That’s hardly missing.”

  Holding up a hand, I gave a nod of acknowledgement. “I understand it might not seem like much, but I’ve checked his normal hangouts, talked with his friends. He hasn’t been to any of his regular spots and nobody has seen him. Worse, I haven’t picked up a recent scent trail on him either.”

  “A girl,” she offered.

  “No.” Shaking my head, I folded my hands in front of me. “He’s not seeing anybody. I’d know.”

  “Hmmm.” She breathed in slowly, nostrils flaring. “So the little cub isn’t out rutting like some brainless animal. That’s good. Shows he’s smarter than my brother was.” She tapped a finger on her lower lip. “And you’ve spoken to his friends?” />
  I ran my tongue across my teeth, taking my time before I answered. “Yes. I’ve talked to his friends. They haven’t seen him.”

  It was a hedge, a risky one, but I didn’t want to tell her that a bunch of teenaged kids might be lying by omission to one of her enforcers.

  “And he hasn’t been to the rec club.”

  She pursed her lips, lashes flickering ever so slightly then. Likely because it made her think of Chang.

  “Where do you think he is?”

  There’s a trick to lying to people who can smell lies. I know. I’m one of them. But telling a lie—the outright kind—can be different from answering a different sort of question. She’d asked where I thought he was, and while I didn’t know that, I suspected I knew why I couldn’t find him. I wasn’t going to tell her that, although it was probably the answer she’d prefer.

  But telling her that her nephew had probably run away to avoid being sucked into her crazy wasn’t going to make things better for anybody—least of all him and me.

  So I answered the question sideways. “I really don’t know where he could be, Lady. But I’m asking your permission to keep looking.”

  “You should have done that earlier.” Wintry eyes cut into me.

  “Yes. I had hopes I was worrying over nothing.” I shrugged. “He’s getting moodier. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s gone off with a friend for a few days. Maybe that’s all it is. I’m still hoping. You know how it is with kids.”

  “Of course.” She watched me with vacant eyes that held nothing of warmth or understanding.

  How in the hell could she know what it was like?

  She’d sooner eat her young than care for them.

  The silence grew as she watched me, so complete I could hear her heart beating and mine.

  It was a fight to keep calm so mine wouldn’t accelerate. I didn’t want to be here, playing these games when I had a kid out there. He could be in trouble. He could stumble into one of Annette’s enemies—and she had plenty of those.

  “He should be found,” she finally said, waving a hand at me. “The idiot boy might well end up getting himself killed on his own. That wouldn’t look well for my clan, would it?”

  “No, Lady. It wouldn’t.”

  “Go. Find him.” Her eyes slammed into me, eyes gold now.

  Am I supposed to be scared?

  “I’ll find him.” Shoving up off the couch, I headed for the door.

  “Damon!”

  Pausing at the door, I waited, hearing as she approached. I braced, waiting for an attack. But all she did was rest her hands on my hips and lean in to rub her cheek against my back. “Find my boy, Damon.”

  I will, I thought.

  Then I was going to have to make up my mind—get the hell out of here…or get her out.

  Chapter Seven

  While Chang might be the only person in Orlando I trusted without reservation, there were a couple of others I had some level of…confidence in.

  It wasn’t because we were friends either.

  Had things been different, I could probably see myself being friends with Scott Caswell. He wasn’t too dissimilar from me, never mind the fact that he’d once been human.

  Forty years ago, he’d been fighting the good fight, enlisted in the military, special forces commando-type shit. He wouldn’t talk about it, again, that not really friends thing, but when I’d asked, he hadn’t denied the military experience.

  And seeing him fight…well, I didn’t think they taught that shit to just the average Joe signing up for a four-year tour.

  If things had been different, the two of us could have probably sat down in a bar somewhere and talked shit all night long and well into the day. He had the kind of eyes that said he’d seen a lot of hell go down, had probably brought it and been through his share of it, too.

  But we didn’t live in a world where it was safe to form—or show—loyalties.

  If things ever came down to it, he and I might have to fight.

  And I’d have to kill him.

  I tried not to make friends with people I might have to kill.

  But as far as certain things went, Scott belonged to a very small club—one with only two other members—Chang and Alisdair MacDonald.

  They were people I knew to have some measure of honor.

  Alisdair was the other Alpha in town. There used to be a third, a rat by the name Eddie. As far as I was concerned, the city was better off without him.

  He’d been a weaker, lesser version of Annette—a power hungry, cruel piece of work and he’d met a messy end.

  Dair was the kind of leader a pack needed.

  He was, like Scott, somebody I almost trusted.

  But I wouldn’t have a beer with him.

  Dair had a stick up his ass.

  He’d taken my call, though, and agreed to meet with me, assuming it could wait another day.

  Shit.

  Did Doyle have another day?

  But there were only so many things I could do as one of Annette’s enforcers. Hell, if he’d wanted, he could have ignored my call completely. There was no way in a frozen hell that Annette would have taken a call from one of his enforcers. There were only a few of her own she’d speak directly to. Fuck knows why I had to be one of them.

  As I hunted down Scott, I planned out what I’d do next, and then after that, and after that…I was tired as hell, but I couldn’t sleep knowing he was out there. Not knowing how I’d find him.

  “Stupid bastard,” I muttered. If I’d just listened a little better, if I’d…hell. There was only one thing that would have stopped this completely and it was still a line I wasn’t sure I was ready to cross.

  I found Scott out near the trenches—the territory I usually handled. He came out of a house, mouth was already set in a tight line. I knew why. The couple that lived there barely made enough in a week to buy food and pay rent. Annette’s tithe too often meant they ended up skipping out on meals they couldn’t afford to miss.

  “Did they have enough?” I asked, not looking at the house Scott had just left. The occupants were eying us nervously through the window.

  “Shit. We can’t get blood from a stone.” He sighed with a mix of disgust and pity.

  I took that to mean no. Without responding, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small stash of cash I’d grabbed from my glovebox. Scott eyed it warily, then without saying a word, grabbed it.

  If it had been any other enforcer, I wouldn’t have dared. Covering somebody’s tithe could get me in just as much trouble as them. But Scott…well, he was decent.

  “You’ll need the rest for the old lady over on Steel Street,” I said, moving in a little closer. “She never has enough.”

  Scott’s face went even grimmer, but he nodded. Then he stepped away and gave me a narrow look. “Other than playing Good Samaritan, why are you here? If she’s pissed because I’m running behind, I’m handling two territories right now.”

  His pale golden eyes reflected the sunlight back at me, but I still caught sight of the irritation.

  “Not what I needed to talk to you about.” I shook my head and nodded toward his car. “Got a minute?”

  “Not much of one.” But he came toward me, shoving the bills I’d given him, along with the tithe he’d collected from the house he’d just left. “Don’t expect me to give you your cut from the section I’m handling for you.”

  “Easy, man.” I held up a hand. “Don’t want that. I just…” Stopping by his car, I turned and faced him. “I got pulled off because of a…problem.”

  Scott’s brows arched over his eyes. “I figured it wasn’t because you’d decided to start playing Romeo. She’s only been after you for years.”

  “Kiss ass.” Moving in closer, too aware of eyes watching us, I lowered my voice. “The boy is missing.”

  There could be only one boy that would interest me.

  Scott inclined his head, b
ut there wasn’t any surprise on his face.

  “Probably ran away.” He lifted a heavy shoulder. “And don’t take this wrong, Lee, but I can’t say I blame him. You see the way she’s been watching him lately?”

  My stomach churned, because I had. I hoped Doyle wasn’t aware. “Whenever he sees her, he tries to hide in on himself.”

  “Again, I can’t say I blame him.” Scott pulled his keys out of his pocket and bounced them in his hand with studied casualness. “That said, if you want to know if I’ve seen him, I haven’t.”

  “Would you tell me if you had?”

  Scott’s bland smile didn’t piss me off. Not really. He had the kind of spine it took to be one of Annette’s enforcers and not go crazy…or turn into a fucking monster. “Let’s say I’d make up my mind when the time came.”

  Processing this, I nodded my head.

  He turned to go.

  “Scott.”

  He slid one last look my way. “I need to find him,” I said quietly.

  “Why? So he doesn’t end up dead out there in the big, cold world?” Scott shrugged. “He’d probably consider it a kindness. So would I. He won’t make it under her watch, Damon. Take that into consideration before you go and do…whatever it is you’re going to do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Exhaustion drove me home to grab some sleep.

  But once I stripped down and lay on my bed, all I could do was lay there and stare up at the ceiling with gritty eyes and aching muscles.

  I should be able to sleep.

  I was so fucking tired—hadn’t slept at all since Doyle had disappeared, although I’d had been home each night, waiting and watching the door.

  But sleep eluded me.

  Something was bugging me. It hovered at the back of my mind, nagging me like an itch I couldn’t scratch. It had been that way ever since I’d been down in the trenches, near the territory that had once been claimed by the trenches. A memory that slid away as soon as I tried to grab it.