Blind Hearts and Silenced Passion

by Anya Byrne

  With a dramatic swish of his long coat, Dread slid into the warehouse. Remy rolled his eyes. "He hasn't changed."

  "Quite. How do you even know him?"

  It wasn't something he'd been particularly planning to discuss, but he couldn't help the question, not after having seen the familiarity between the two and the strange emotion Dread displayed where Remy was concerned. He was proven correct when Remy didn't immediately answer.

  Vicious fury rose inside Baqir. "You are lovers, aren't you?"

  "Not right now, but we did have a liaison for a time," Remy admitted. "It's... complicated. I haven't spoken to him in a while."

  Baqir suppressed the snarl that bubbled in his throat. He had no right to question Remy's past. He barely had that right when it came to Remy's present, and even that was pushing it. "In any case," Remy said, "you didn't have to worry. I'm fine and I can handle myself. I've been doing so for quite a while."

  Baqir suddenly had a very bad feeling about this entire situation. "What exactly are you doing here, Remy? Is this related to the investigation?"

  "That's a useless question, and you know it." Remy snorted. "Everyone seems to think I can't help, but that is obviously not the case. I suppose it's not a bad thing that you've come. We need more information on the killings."

  A shiver went down Baqir's spine. The idea that Remy wanted to look into the killings made Baqir flash back to images of the bodies as they had looked when they'd been found. "You can't be serious. You can't possibly—"

  Remy cut him off before he could finish the phrase. "I can and I will. I told you once before. We're in this together. Also, this isn't just about us. People are dying, and if I can do something about it, I will."

  "You have no clue what you're dealing with!"

  "Well, that's exactly where you come in, right?"

  Baqir bit the inside of his cheek so hard it bled. He had not come here to bring even further peril to Remy's doorstep. But Remy was nothing if not stubborn and he would not listen if Baqir tried to tell him to stay out of it. As such, Baqir needed to think clearly, respect Remy and most of all, not let his jealousy get the better of him.

  He inhaled and exhaled, managing to muster a level of calm before he finally provided an answer. "I wish I did have the information you need, but nothing makes sense."

  Remy gave him a skeptical look, like he didn't quite believe what Baqir was saying. "We'll see. For the moment, come on in. We really shouldn't be talking about this out in the open."

  That was one thing Baqir could definitely agree with. He followed silently after his mate as Remy led him past the door and into the warehouse.

  As soon as he stepped inside, Baqir caught a glimpse of two figures further away—Dread and Blanchefleur. Suddenly, it seemed unbearable to be forced into an all-business conversation with other people involved before he and Remy cleared the air between them.

  Baqir grabbed Remy's wrist, keeping him from advancing. "Wait. Before we deal with that… Can I talk to you for a minute?"

  The question was clumsy and a bit senseless, and Remy didn't delay in pointing that out. "We're talking now."

  "In private." Baqir nodded in Dread and Blanchefleur's general direction. "Without them."

  Fortunately, his mate didn't argue with him. He allowed Baqir to guide him further away from the other two occupants of the warehouse. Although it wasn't exactly easy to find privacy in such a place, they managed to take refuge behind a big crate. It would have to do.

  Baqir carefully considered his words and tentatively began to speak. "Look, about earlier—"

  "I understood what you were trying to say," his mate cut him off. "You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings."

  "But I did, and... Well, you hurt me." He was uncomfortable with admitting that, uncomfortable with accepting the fact that a man he'd just met had the ability to shatter the walls he'd built at great personal cost. "But I do admit I was wrong to leave like that, and to say the things I did. In case you're wondering, that part, about me not wanting you, was a huge lie."

  Remy's lower lip trembled as he faced Baqir again. "Baqir..."

  "Please, let me finish. I'm not a good person. You know that, and so do I. I don't think either of us was really ready for what happened, and for... For everything."

  Remy nodded slowly. "Agreed. We did sort of... jump into it without thinking things through. But... That's not necessarily a bad thing."

  "I suppose," Baqir mused. "I'm not sure I would have ever been ready to meet you." Even now, standing in front of Remy took his breath away and made his head spin. It was exhilarating, shocking, and for someone like Baqir—who prized control above all else—it was also frightening.

  "There are some things I cannot help," he went on. "I... I met up with Reynard to find out information about the new dead body, but even as I was listening to the report, I was still thinking about how much danger haunted your steps."

  Remy scowled at his words. "I can protect myself."

  Despite knowing this wasn't what Remy wanted to hear, Baqir said what was on his mind. "No, you can't. None of us can. I've already ordered my people to back down, because whoever is killing them has skills we're not familiar with. I'm... I'm not even sure I can keep you safe."

  As the words tumbled out of his mouth, something inside Baqir cracked and he found himself gripping Remy's shoulders and pulling the smaller werewolf into his arms. For a few moments, Remy went rigid, but then, he relaxed against Baqir's chest. "It's okay. We're okay. Everything is going to be all right."

  Baqir really wished he could believe that, and when he held his mate like this, he could almost do it. But when Remy pulled away, the chill from before invaded his heart, flooding him with apprehension.

  Remy cupped his cheek gently and offered him a smile full of a warmth and affection. "I'm sorry too, Qiri. None of this has been easy, and I'm not blameless either. I lost my temper. Please forgive me."

  Baqir's breath caught. He'd forgotten the last time when anyone had truly worried about his feelings or bothered to apologize to him. Indeed, he was widely believed to be emotionless, especially after he'd disfigured his own brother.

  No one had ever realized how hard it had been for Baqir to keep his hand steady, to avoid Erdi's eye and make the scar only cosmetic. No one ever realized that he even had a heart. Remy did, even if they'd only known each other for a day, even if the time they'd spent together had been so short.

  He'd have liked to say more, so much more, but time and circumstances were not on his side. The sound of a cleared throat interrupted their reunion. Baqir released Remy from his embrace, although he still kept his arm wrapped around Remy's shoulders. "What?" he barked out, unable to contain his hostility.

  "Did you figure out what the seal is?" Remy asked, a little breathless.

  "Actually, no," Dread replied. "The metal is unlike anything I've ever seen. My reaction is entirely different from Blanchefleur's, which makes no sense."

  Baqir felt out of the loop. Clearly, there had been some sort of development since he'd left Remy. Well, stranger things had happened, and Baqir could attest to the fact that it didn't take long for an investigation—or, indeed, a life—to change.

  "You have new intel?" he asked.

  "Of a sort," Remy replied, his voice thick with discomfort. "I suppose you should see it too. Perhaps you have some input."

  Baqir would have liked that very much, but the moment he set eyes on the peculiar item, he knew he'd be next to useless. He took it in his hand regardless and gasped as a wave of intense arousal swept over him. Shocked, Baqir dropped the seal. It hit the floor with the dull thud.

  Silence fell over the warehouse in the wake of the strange episode. "Well," Dread finally said, "that was interesting... and awkward."

  "Why?" Baqir scowled fiercely. "What do the rest of you feel?"

  "I'm immune to it. Blanchefleur feels burnt, and to Dread it seems... icy?" Remy sounded shaky, uncertain, but then, they were all werewolves
and none of them could have missed Baqir's reaction.

  "Where exactly did you find this?"

  "On one of Florent's silencer friends, many years ago," Remy answered. "When I was blinded."

  Baqir shot Blanchefleur a look but she shook her head. "I don't know anything about it. Florent had a lot of secrets, and I wasn't exactly included in his innermost circle."

  That, Baqir believed. He doubted many things about Blanchefleur, but not the fact that she had indeed lost her mate to her brother's machinations. Even if this was the first time they'd actually met, he sensed there was just something about her that screamed of emptiness and loss. Baqir could easily imagine himself in her place... too easily, in fact.

  He pushed the thought to the back of his mind since it clearly wasn't helping him. "Why do you think this is relevant to the killings?" he inquired. "Remy's had it in his possession for a long time now."

  "It's a clue to what I witnessed back then," Remy answered. "I really have no idea what was going on that day, when I was blinded, and clearly, that's why I'm still alive. But if we can all agree on something, it's that this is in no way a recent development."

  Remy was right. The humans had a great deal of influence in the paranormal world, far more than any of them had expected. That was clear enough from the fact that they'd manipulated the guilds for so long, but also due to the way Baqir's people were being killed.

  He thought about that particular tidbit, then considered the seal Remy had shown him. "Could this be magic?" he asked.

  "Magic?" Dread repeated in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

  Baqir would have taken offense at the reaction—it was completely unreasonable for Dread to be so shocked at the possibility—but Remy stepped in before anyone could say anything else. "Actually, that does make sense. Why wouldn't the humans be involved with someone who has magic? They wouldn't have dared to take on the Sidhe otherwise, would they?"

  That was a point no one could argue against. The fact that the humans had not shied away from making the Sidhe queen an enemy was something that had befuddled all of them. It was clear now that they needed a specialist, someone who knew more about magic than the rest of them did.

  As if guessing his thoughts, Blanchefleur hummed thoughtfully. "I think I know who can help us and clarify things, but... It will be risky. She prefers keeping a low profile, and bringing in silencers won't earn me any good faith. And yet, we might not have a choice."

  Baqir arched a brow. "You have a contact in the magical world?"

  Blanchefleur smiled tightly, and her eyes gained that dark, lost look Baqir had pinpointed earlier. "I've had to move around a lot these past few decades. I took refuge in some unlikely places."

  'Unlikely places' was in no way enough of a description to smooth out the tension already building inside Baqir. "If we're going to meet with this contact, I'll need more details."

  Despite the fact that he'd told himself to stay professional about this, he couldn't help but pull Remy close once again. He wasn't taking any chances with his mate's safety. If anyone—including Blanchefleur—did something to put Remy in harm's way, Baqir would show them the error of their ways—slowly and painfully.

  Dread smirked at his display of possessiveness, but Blanchefleur seemed to get the message. "There's a club," she explained slowly, voice thick with reluctance. "I know what you're thinking, Remy, but the owner is not part of the underground. She simply helps people who are in trouble—human or otherwise. She helped me a lot when I first lost Sylvain. She lives in the United States."

  Baqir shared a look with his mate and saw the same awareness in Remy's eyes. There was nothing for it. They didn't have much choice. The seal needed to be investigated, and their other options were limited at best.

  "The States it is then," he said. "I'll start making arrangements at once. But, Blanchefleur... This had better work."

  "Let's hope it will," she replied, undaunted. "I'm all out of ideas, and we're running out of time."

  For a brief moment, Baqir wondered if she knew something he didn't, or if she was just making an educated guess. Either way, in this, he couldn't really disagree. His men were already being killed off one by one and they weren't any closer to discovering who'd done it, or who'd been behind the assassination of the former Alpha of the Maximoff pack.

  And so, Baqir resigned himself to once more journeying into the unknown—but made an oath to himself. No matter what he had to do, nothing and no one would ever hurt his beloved mate.

  Chapter Six

  By werewolf standards, Remy was not old, but neither was he particularly young. He'd traveled quite a lot in his lifetime, especially since his eyesight had started to return. This particular trip was different. They were forced to travel in secrecy, but that didn't translate in private jets and relaxation like Remy had been used to before. On the contrary, Baqir insisted that sometimes, the best way to hide was to remain in plain sight.

  This created an odd and awkward situation during which he and Baqir were traveling as a couple, and Blanchefleur and Dread as another. Supposedly, they were vacationing in the States. Remy had to admit that it was a little befuddling to see Baqir's demeanor change and twist depending on who he had to charm. Somehow, despite Baqir's obviously Arab descent, they managed to avoid all suspicion.

  The more time Remy spent in the company of his mate and their companions, the less convinced he became that he truly fit in here. Whatever he might have thought, he didn't have the qualifications, or even perhaps the mental strength to become a silencer.

  And then, Baqir took his hand and threaded their fingers together. This time, when Baqir smiled, it was very obviously honest and held so much affection that Remy couldn't hold onto his apprehension.

  "It's okay," Baqir whispered. "I'm here with you."

  And why did that mean so much? Why did it reassure Remy to this extent, soothing his heart? He prided himself on his independence, on the fact that he could and had weathered everything that life had thrown at him and come out the victor. Why was it that only now he could truly feel strong and protected?

  It was beyond puzzling, especially since Remy couldn't bring himself to resent it. It had always bothered him when his brother had tried to protect him, but with Baqir, he didn't have the same problem. Perhaps it was part of the magic of finding a mate, and perhaps it meant he and Baqir were on their way to actually understanding one another.

  Of course, there was a huge issue with being a werewolf traveling on plane filled with humans—and Remy realized it as soon as they entered the aircraft. There were so many conflicting scents, sounds and presences. The low voices of the flight attendants mingled with those of the passengers. With a mental sigh, Remy found his seat, thankful that at least he was next to the window and his mate was positioned between him and everyone else.

  Of course, he did not anticipate the hardest thing being actually sitting so close to Baqir, without having the ability to do much more. With Baqir's scent invading his nostrils, it was so easy to remember the night they'd shared and forget all about the problems that had brought them on an airplane headed to the United States.

  Given their werewolf nature, it was only natural that Baqir noticed. Minutes after they were in the air, they were both incredibly tense. Remy yearned to reach for his mate, but he suspected that if he did so, he wouldn't be able to keep himself from doing more. He wanted to bury his nose in his mate's neck and just breathe, to take in Baqir's scent and reassure himself his lover was truly there beside him.

  They had so many problems, so many concerns, so many things they needed to discuss. There simply had been no time to approach everything they'd said—and everything they'd kept silent. They couldn't fix that now, and their enforced proximity made Remy hyper-aware of this frustrating fact.

  He'd have probably done better if not for their current location. Werewolves didn't really react well to being stuck on airplanes with so many humans. Having lived in a big city all of his life, Remy was used to l
arge crowds, but his wolf was restless whenever he couldn't move—as was the case today.

  He didn't last very long until he got up and wiggled his way past his mate. There was an indrawn breath from Baqir—since Remy had in a way shoved his ass within his mate's line of sight—but the other werewolf remained in his seat.

  Remy made a beeline for the bathroom, and was gratified to see that miracles did happen and it was free. He didn't actually get to enter the small room, because a strong hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. He was forcibly shoved inside and pinned against the door of the tiny area—and it shouldn't have been hot or arousing, but it was, because the culprit, Remy's captor, was his own mate.

  "You know," Remy murmured as he faced Baqir. "This isn't the sexiest place for a fun romp, no matter what the mile high club might say."

  "I think the mile high club would agree with me on not giving a shit."

  Remy snorted. "Not your best turn of phrase, given our current location, wouldn't you—"

  His mate shut him up before he could finish the phrase, in the best possible way, by crashing their lips together.

  The kiss was everything Remy had been hoping for, and more. Baqir practically devoured his mouth, his tongue claiming, tasting, exploring, taking no prisoners. Perhaps it should have sated Remy's hunger and quenched his thirst, but things really didn't work that way when it came to him and Baqir. Everything went topsy-turvy, and the desire that had been bubbling underneath Remy's skin flared even brighter, making every inch of him alive with need.

  Deep inside him, his wolf howled, a desperate demand to fix his unbearable situation. As a beast and as a man, Remy knew the true crux of the matter. Baqir hadn't claimed him, and as long as that was the case, Remy would always feel uncertain. The safety Baqir's presence provided would never fully process. This was an inescapable truth, one that haunted Remy far more than his nightmares of his dark years ever had.

  And it might be the worst possible place to make such demands, but Remy couldn't help himself. When his mate broke their kiss—presumably to give him a moment to breathe—Remy blurted out what was on his mind, "Claim me!"