“She’ll heal. She’ll be fine. Gotta be strong, but fuck, it looks bad.”
Moira couldn’t even bring herself to inspect the damage done to her body, but from the franticness of Brock’s thoughts, she assumed it was awful.
“I should have told her. I should have warned her. Crap, Brock is going to kill me.”
“Brock is not going to kill you,” Moira assured the wolf. “Everyone just needs to calm down. I’m going to be fine.” She didn’t feel fine, but thankfully, the mind reading didn’t work in reverse.
“Go find out what’s going on,” Brock ordered. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Brock answered firmly when Casey left the room. “You are going to bed, and you aren’t going to argue with me.”
“Oh, no?” He had some nerve telling her what she was and was not going to do. Koba was just as much her mate as he was Brock’s, and if there was information waiting that could help find him, she wasn’t going to let a little sun stop her from getting it.
“No. Even if you could come out in the sun, I wouldn’t let you go with me. I don’t know how cooperative our Walker will be or what I’ll have to do to get him to talk. You think I want you seeing something like that?”
“I’m not some kind of delicate flower, Brock. I know how this whole interrogation thing works.”
Brock grunted, shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Then he set her on her feet, making sure she was steady before releasing her, and smirked. “Okay, you can come.”
“Really?” Well, that had gone better than she expected.
“Yep.” He backed slowly out of the bathroom door, still smiling in that way that she didn’t trust. “All you have to do is figure out how to get to the barn without going up in flames. I’ll meet you there.”
* * * *
The energy he sent out crackled through the damp air, pulsing around them like a living thing. Koba knew the exact moment that his captors felt it. All heads snapped around, and heavy-lidded, glazed eyes stared in his direction.
All four men shuffled forward, converging on the place where Koba still sat on the floor. It was kind of like watching zombies mindlessly stalking their pray. At that moment, with his powers cranked to full power and his pheromones permeating the room, there was nothing on their minds but him—just as he’d wanted.
The Walker hissed and retreated back to his dark corner when the sunlight scorched his flesh, but his gaze never left Koba. Unhindered by the bright rays, the lycans continued prowling toward him, their snarls growing louder with each step.
“Mine!”
“No, he’s mine!”
“I want him.”
The trancelike movements vanished, and the wolves pounced on him, pulling his hair and groping his chest. The hands on him made his stomach roll, but he kept his face impassive and didn’t struggle. “Untie me,” he whispered seductively. “It’ll be a lot more fun if you untie me.” And he wouldn’t break his wolf’s front legs by trying to shift with his hands tied behind his back.
The Walker growled and hissed from the corner, pacing next to the sunbeams but never coming closer. When one of the lycans leaned in to sniff at his hair, Koba turned his head fractionally, placing his lips right next to the man’s ear. “You can have me all to yourself, you know. You don’t have to share.”
The bindings on his wrist loosened at the same moment the man sniffing his hair went very still except for the vibrating of his muscles. Then he leaned away slowly, his eyes cutting to the man beside him with a wild, jealous gleam.
Rolling his head on his shoulders, Koba nudged the shoulder of the lycan currently untying him. “They don’t want you here,” he mumbled, planting the seed that was going to hopefully get him free. “Let’s go somewhere we can be alone. You deserve to have an omega all to yourself.” Koba sent out another little burst of power to punctuate his statement.
“He’s coming with me.”
“No, he’s mine!”
“I saw him first.”
“You wouldn’t even know what to do with him.”
A fist shot out, connecting squarely with another man’s nose. Another fist came out of nowhere, hitting the first attacker in the jaw. Then all hell broke loose as the lycans wrestled each other to a writhing heap on the cement floor, clawing, biting, hitting, and kicking.
And there was his opportunity.
It took longer than he would have liked to finish removing the ropes, but Koba was already in the midst of his transformation by the time the bindings fell away. With his captors’ attention firmly on one another, Koba pushed up from the floor, shook out his shaggy gray coat, and sprinted for the workbench just under the row of windows.
The Walker lunged for him but fell back against the wall with a yelp, leaving Koba clear to leap up onto the bench. Rising up on his back legs, he pawed at the windows and pushed with his snout. If he couldn’t get a window open, he was as good as dead in about the next sixty seconds.
By some miracle, the third window swung outward, allowing him to shove his head through and claw at the grass outside while his back legs scrambled against the cinderblocks, trying to get enough traction to propel him up and through. It was a tight squeeze, and for a moment, he didn’t think he’d fit. Once he was slithering on his belly in the dewy grass, however, there was no time to rest or even be thankful that he’d escaped.
Loud, vicious barking rang throughout the basement and battered against the windows with such force that it cracked the glass. With single-minded determination, Koba ran hard and fast, throwing up clumps of dirt behind him as he sprinted for the trees to the north. He needed cover, and judging by the sound of breaking glass behind him, he needed it fast.
Chapter Eleven
“He was scared as shit when we caught up to him, and he didn’t fight.” Gatlan trotted beside Brock on the way across the back field toward the barn. “He hasn’t said anything, but I don’t think it would take much to make him talk.”
“Thanks, Gat. You guys did good. Take everyone up to the house, shower, and grab something to eat. I’ll take it from here.”
“You sure? He’s a little thing, but you know how those Walkers are.”
“I’m going with him.” Casey patted Gatlan on the shoulder and gave him a little push. “Get some food and then some rest. We’re going to need you guys tonight.”
With obvious reluctance, Gatlan nodded and ushered the other two men across the field, though he kept shooting glances over his shoulder as they went. “Should I go with them?” Joss didn’t look any more excited than Gatlan about the possibility of being sent away, but at least he’d offered.
“They’ll be fine.” Brock just wanted to get this over with. He didn’t relish in the idea of hurting anyone, but he’d do what was necessary to find his mate and bring him home. Part of him felt sorry for the Walkers. None of them had asked for what was done to them, but the minute they’d started attacking innocent people, they’d become paranormal enemy number one.
“How did they get him to the barn, anyway?”
“My bedroll,” Casey grumbled in disgust. “I’m going to have to burn that thing. It’s seen way too much action since we got here.”
Brock’s lips split into a grin as he remembered the kind of “action” he and his mates had shown to Casey’s sleeping bag. It wasn’t really funny, and he’d be spitting mad if someone had done it to him, but he didn’t regret it. After all this mess was cleared up, he’d find a way to make it up to his friend.
“Let me go!”
“Seems our guest is not happy with his accommodations.” There was a hardness to Joss’s voice that Brock hadn’t heard before, not even when the guy had extended his less-than-friendly greeting the night Brock arrived.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out the cause of his anger, either. It had nothing to do with Brock, though they’d known each other for years. There might be a little concern for Koba, but only a
little. The rage Joss was feeling centered around Moira and the fact that someone was trying to hurt her.
Anyone else in his position might be jealous that the beta felt so strongly for his mate, but not Brock. Moira was beautiful, and he’d be a fool if he thought other men didn’t notice. Joss’s affection for her wasn’t sexual, though. All anyone had to do was watch him look at Casey to see where his desires were directed.
The rest of the pack may have turned their back on Moira, but she still had one very influential ally in her corner, and for that, Brock could only be grateful. Thinking of his girl, however, led to thinking about sex with his girl, and then in turn led him to his next question. “Does a demoness have a mating heat like a lycan female?”
“Yes.” His eyebrows drew together, and Casey looked at him in confusion. “It should have started right after you claimed her.”
“Uh, we’ve barely even touched since then. There’s been a lot going on.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to justify their lack of intimacy. It wasn’t anyone’s business what went on between him and his mates.
“Well, that would explain a lot.”
“Maybe you want to explain it to me, because I’m lost.”
“Demons have omegas just as lycans do. Omegas can’t conceive or bear offspring, so if a demoness is an omega, she wouldn’t have a mating heat.”
Brock didn’t understand exactly how that explained anything other than why Moira hadn’t been molesting him around the clock since their interlude in the barn. “Koba said we needed to talk before he was kidnapped. Do you think he knew?”
“Most likely.” They stepped into the barn, and Casey glanced up toward the loft as he spoke. “I’m sure omegas would recognize each other. I’ve never known two to be mated, though. A pack isn’t supposed to have more than one omega, so you can see the problem.”
A mated pair would never agree to be separated, so a pair of mated omegas would have to be part of the same pack. Yes, Brock could definitely see the problem. “When they first met, they didn’t immediately recognize each other as mates. I guess they kind of muddled through it, but Koba said it was like a broken connection.”
“I don’t really know, but you’re all together now. You’ve got time to work out the details.”
Very true, so Brock pushed the issue to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand. “You ready to do this?”
“I didn’t do anything!” the Walker shouted from above them. “I never hurt anyone. Let me go!”
“Yep.” Joss ascended the ladder first with Casey behind him, and Brock bringing up the rear.
Squinting into the dimly lit corner, Brock was surprised to see how small and unassuming the Walker appeared in his human form. “Are you sure this is the same guy?”
Casey shrugged. “You wanted a Shadow Walker. Does it really matter which one he is?”
“What’s your name?” Brock demanded.
“Callan Rhys. Look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I never hurt anyone, I swear.”
Good grief, the kid didn’t look any older than nineteen or twenty and scared out of his ever-loving mind as he huddled naked in the corner. His big, brown eyes stared back at Brock, pleading for leniency, and his bottom lip quivered with each exhale of breath. A little piece of Brock’s heart broke right there on the spot.
“Callan, where are you from?” Casey spoken soothingly, gently, and he crouched down in the dry hay far enough away from Callan so as not to be intimidating. “How did you get to Mission Landing?”
“Birmingham, and I honestly don’t know. I think someone hit me in the head, I blacked out, and when I woke up, I couldn’t go out in the sun anymore. I shifted once, but it hurt like hell. Are you guys really werewolves?”
“When did this happen?” Joss asked, kneeling down beside Casey. “How long ago was it?”
“Two weeks, I think. I can’t really be sure. I mean, it’s not like they let us have cell phones or calendars.” Callan looked down at his hands and winced. “Can you please loosen these a little? I swear I won’t run, but my wrists are starting to bleed, and it hurts.”
Joss extracted a pocketknife from his jeans, flipped open the blade, and cut the ropes so that they fell away completely. Brock watched in astonishment as the beta then took the Walker’s hands into his own, brought the raw and rough skin around Callan’s wrists to his mouth, and kissed the flesh gently. “Better?”
“Oh, son of a bitch!” Brock spun to face the other direction and threw his hands up. “I fucking quit.”
“You know I didn’t do this on purpose,” Casey mumbled. “I can’t help who fate choses for me.”
Brock understood that, but he’d been looking forward to beating the crap out of something. He needed some kind of outlet for his pent-up aggression, and now the Shadow Walker was untouchable. “I know,” he finally relented. “I get it.”
“I’m sorry,” Callan whispered, pulling his hands away from Joss and scrunching deeper into the corner. “I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”
“Easy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The beta’s skin looked a little paler than normal, and he seemed to choke on his next questions before he got it past his lips. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three. Why?”
Joss and Casey both deflated right before his eyes, and even Brock had to admit he was relieved. “You only shifted once?” While he was happy for his friends that they’d found their third, he still had a job to do. Only now, maybe it would be a little easier.
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you with the Walkers that attacked us in the woods last night?”
“Walkers?”
“I’ll explain later.” Settling on the floor beside Callan, Casey pulled his shirt off over his head and passed it to the smaller man. “Put this on, pup.” He waited for Joss to assist in covering all of their mate’s bits and pieces before continuing. “Were you in the woods last night? Did you fight?”
“I was there.” Callan nodded slowly. “I hid up in one of the trees until I thought everyone was gone. I hoped that they would think I died with the others, but when I climbed down from the tree, these wolves started chasing me.”
“Who is ‘they’?” He’d spoken a bit sharper than he intended, but too much time had already passed.
“I don’t know their names, but there are four of them. The one who seems to be the main guy is really pale and mean.”
“Where are they?”
“North of here. There’s an abandoned house near a river. That’s all I know.”
“Why did you attack us?” Brock ignored the glare Joss sent his way as he continued grilling Callan. He wanted to ask why they’d been slaughtering small towns down the coast, but if Callan was only turned a couple of weeks ago, it would be a wasted question.
“We were told to take out anyone who would help the girl. We were not to touch her. Hell, the pale guy said that she wouldn’t even be there, that she wouldn’t be allowed.”
Whoever this pale guy was, he obviously knew nothing about Moira. No one allowed her to do anything. “What else?”
“They told us to take the gray wolf and kill the rest. If we couldn’t get to the gray wolf, we let him go, and others would intercept him once he was separated from the rest.”
“How many of you are there?”
Callan shrugged and chewed on his bottom lip for a long time before answering. “Maybe twenty. I’m not really sure. There are new guys coming into the house almost every day.”
“Thank you,” Casey whispered, and his fingers curled over his knees as though he was resisting the urge to touch the guy. “You’ve been a lot of help.”
“Will you let me go now?”
Joss and Casey looked up to Brock for an answer. Growling under his breath and shoving a hand through his short hair, Brock bobbed his head twice. “Yeah, get him up to the house.”
“It’s not safe for you to leave, but we can make you more comfortable,” Joss explai
ned. “Once this is over, you can go wherever you want, okay? We’ll even help you get there.”
Callan appeared to think it over before eventually nodding his agreement. “I don’t have to be tied up?”
“Nope,” Casey replied with a smile.
“Can I wear clothes?”
“I insist.”
“Do I…do I have to eat raw meat? It doesn’t make me sick, but it doesn’t taste very good.”
Brock could see the muscle in Casey’s jaw tick, and knew his friend was trying to calm his rage before he spoke. “No, Callan. You can eat whatever you want, however you’d like it prepared.”
Now that they’d settled the matter, Brock pulled his phone from his pocket and started to dial. He was interrupted by an incoming call from an unknown number, though. “Who is this?”
“Brock, I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Koba? Koba, where are you?”
“Listen! There are at least three lycans tracking me right now. I don’t think I’m far from you, but I don’t know the area. There are vampires, Brock. Vampries, lycans, Walkers, and something else that I can’t name. You have to take Moira and go.”
“I’m coming for you right now. Just stay low and wait for me.”
“Brock! You’re not listening! You have to go. That thing I can’t name? It smells very similar to Moira. I think it might be demons. The pack lands are going to be crawling with bad guys by the time the sun sets.”
“We’ll handle it. If we run, they’ll just follow. Find the river and start walking south. I’m sending Gatlan and Casey for you.”
There was an audible sigh, and Brock could picture Koba rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. Brock…”
“Just tell me.”
“I slipped into the doggie door of a house and stole some clothes.”
He sounded so guilty that Brock couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll take the clothes back later. Now go. The guys are on their way.”
“We’ll bring him back,” Casey said the minute he’d hung up the phone. Then he squeezed Callan’s hand, kissed Joss on the temple, and scrambled down the ladder.
Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 10