Betrayed: Book Two - The Road to Redemption

by Nicky Charles

  He finally focused back on her, his jaw set in a look of disapproval. “Why are we here?”

  “To dance?” She flicked a glance towards the centre of the room where couples were grinding to the music.

  He snorted and she laughed.

  “Right.” She took a swallow of her drink. “Hiram was telling me about scenting a Lycan. I questioned him after dinner. It wasn’t too far from here.”

  “He wasn’t completely sure.”

  “No, but this is a popular hangout. Lots of our kind pass through.” She shrugged. “It’s as good a place to look as any other.”

  Damien nodded. “I’ll wander around. See if I notice anything.”

  “Meet back here in half an hour.”

  She watched him leave, slowly sipping her drink and noting how the crowd instinctively parted for him. Yeah, he’d impress the hell out of Sinclair or any of the Lycan Link stiffs that might come nosing around. As he disappeared from view, she turned on her bar stool and casually gestured towards Tina.

  The bartender nodded and began to make her way back towards Sam, clearing glasses and wiping the counter as she went along. It gave Sam a moment to appreciate the woman’s garb. Thigh high boots, a short leather skirt, a black bustier and a choker chain necklace. It was topped off with rainbow coloured hair.

  Sam grinned at the woman when she finally stopped in front of her, taking in the final touch to the costume, dramatic purple eye shadow and the liberal use of eyeliner. “Nice colours.”

  Tina cracked her gum and grinned. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted today, so I went with them all.”

  “It suits you.” She took a moment to marvel at the intricate filigree design that accented the outer corners of the bartender’s eyes. Tina was studying to be a makeup artist. “Cool eye liner design, too.”

  “Yeah, I got a great mark from my instructor for it.” She studied Sam’s face. “You know, I’d love to do your eyes one day.”

  “I’ve told you before, that’s not my style, Tina.” Sam shook her head and grabbed a handful of popcorn from a bowl that sat nearby.

  Tina gave a dramatic sigh. “I know, but I’ll keep trying. Your eyes would be so much fun to work with.” She glanced along the length of the bar. No one was demanding her attention, so she settled in to talk. “I’m surprised to see you here tonight. What’s up?”

  Sam raised her glass to her mouth and replied in a barely audible whisper. “Looking for information. Any new rumours? Hiram thought he scented a new Lycan in the area but wasn’t sure.”

  Straightening, Tina wiped the countertop then glanced around. While the establishment was frequented by Shifters as well as Others, there were always humans about as well and discretion was needed. “There is one. One who is, yet isn’t.”

  “And that means…?”

  Tina scrunched her face, obviously trying to explain the feeling she had in words that a mere Lycan could understand. “You need to be careful. The wolf has two faces.”

  Sam frowned trying to make sense of what Tina was saying. The woman was one of the Others, part of the witch and Fae realm, and as such she was prone to insights about the future. Unfortunately, those insights tended to be vague, or perhaps it was that Tina had turned her back on her heritage and made no real effort to refine her skill.

  Biting back a sigh of frustration, Sam nodded her thanks. “If you pick up on anything, let me know.”

  “Sorry.” Tina tucked a pink lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m pretty sure there’s another Lycan in the area but…” She shrugged. “Being a witch isn’t an exact science.”

  Sam made a non-committal sound and downed the rest of her drink. Her grandfather would have a seizure if he knew she was consulting with one of the Others. Her friendship with the witch had often been a sticking point between them. Non-shifters can’t be trusted, he’d growl while she’d argue back that the division between species was outdated. Having a witch as a friend could be useful…usually…if you didn’t count the times when Tina’s hexes had gone horribly awry. If only the woman would put more effort into developing her skills. Sam shook her head. Others weren’t bound by duty like Lycans were and there was no point in trying to change them.

  She pushed her empty glass towards Tina along with payment for the drink. “Thanks. If anything else comes to you—”

  “I’ll give you a call.” Tina pocketed the bills. With a friendly nod, she returned to her bartending duties.

  Sam turned her seat so she faced the crowd again and considered Tina’s words. ‘One who is, yet isn’t.’ Someone being deceitful? That was half the population of the bar right now. She watched as the women flirted and the men whispered promises they had no intention of keeping. She snorted and leaned back, resting her elbows on the bar behind her.

  “Great music.”

  Sam turned her head to look at the young man beside her. He’d been there for some time but apparently only now had garnered the nerve to speak to her. He was about her age, short blond hair, average height. Cute, if you liked cute.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Great.” It was okay, good enough that her booted foot was keeping the beat.

  “So…” He shuffled his feet, glanced away and then looked at her again. “You wanna dance?”

  Sam flicked her eyes over the length of him and then slid from her seat. “Why not?” It gave her a chance to check out who was on the dance floor. Between the cheap perfume and body spray, a dozen Lycans could be in the room and she’d be hard pressed to pick up on their scent.

  She led the way into the undulating crowd, found an open spot and began to move to the music. The floor reverberated under her feet, the rhythm persistent and pulsing as it attempted to wrap her in its spell, but her attention was on her own thoughts.

  The Lycan Tina was sensing could very well be Sinclair’s spy. And if the spy was already in town, then it was a good thing Damien was part of her pack. A spy would be looking for weakness, the inability to carry out the duties associated with owning a territory. That wasn’t the case, of course. She had the city well under control, but if they saw Damien and her at the helm there would be no doubt in their chauvinistic little minds that the place was in good hands.

  And speaking of hands… The man she was dancing with had pulled her close enough so that he was grinding against her butt.

  “Hands off.” She tried to step away. In response, he tightened his grip on her hips and nuzzled her neck. Giving her head a slight shake at the idiot’s audacity, she grabbed one of his fingers and bent it back.

  “Hey!” He immediately let go.

  “I said hands off.” She turned to stare at him, eyes narrowed, daring him to complain.

  He snapped his mouth shut and appeared as if he’d like to back up even further if the dance floor hadn’t been so crowded.

  “Next time, ask before you maul.” With that she walked away.

  She pushed her way through the throng, scenting the air and studying those around her. A Lycan spy gyrating on a dance floor was totally absurd and thus a perfect cover.

  Damien had caught site of Sam dancing and had wondered what she was up to. When she nearly broke the finger of the male who was groping her, he’d given a mental nod of approval even though it was none of his business if she hooked up with random guys. Unfortunately, knowing it wasn’t his concern hadn’t stopped the scowl from forming on his face. His wolf hadn’t appreciated it either, a low rumble reverberating in the beast’s throat.

  Now that she’d moved away from the mauler, his mood lightened or at least as much as it could, given the scum he was on the hunt for. The hint of lilacs that he’d detected in the air had him on alert. Sure, it could be perfume but… He sighted his quarry in the corner. Dante.

  His hackles rose and he stalked towards the intruder, only the fact that they were in a public place surrounded by humans kept him from snarling.

  “I thought I told you to stay the hell away from here.”

  Dante looked up from the drink he’
d been nursing. “Nice to see you, too, Damien.” He gestured towards an empty chair. “Have a seat.”

  “No.”

  “You really should, you know. We need to discuss…old times.”

  He hesitated and then slid into the chair. Old times with Dante meant Deirdre. The woman had been his ‘handler’ during his years working as an assassin. He’d turned his back on it though, walked away not caring that it meant a price was on his head. It still didn’t matter, but, if Deirdre was going to kill him, it wouldn’t hurt to know how and when.

  “Drink?” Dante signalled for a waitress, but Damien shook his head.

  “The days when we drank together are long gone, Dante. What do you want?”

  “Just passing along some information.”

  “About?”

  “Several things.” Dante looked away, suddenly appearing disinterested in the conversation.

  “You waiting for me to pay you?” Damien leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  “Depends on if you want the information.” Dante shrugged. “If you don’t, Sam Harper might be interested.”

  Damien shot his hand across the table and grabbed Dante’s collar. “I told you to stay away from her.”

  Dante laughed, the sound coming out more like a wheeze due to the material twisting around his throat. “I really don’t think you want the bouncer throwing you out, do you?”

  Slowly, Damien relaxed his grip and sat back in his chair, his jaw tightly clenched; Dante’s presence stretching his self-control to the very limits. One of his first assignments while working for Deirdre had partnered him with the bastard. Dante wasn’t above stealing from the dead or saving his own hide at the expense of his teammates.

  Taking a sip of his drink, Dante gave him a speculative look. “You seem protective towards Harper. Care to share why?”

  Damien ignored the comment. “How much?”

  For a moment, he wondered if Dante was going to press the issue regarding Sam but, typical of the man, the lure of hard cash took precedence.

  “For my information? A couple hundred.”

  “Ha! You’d have to be selling me the code to Lycan Link’s security system before I’d pay you that much.”

  “Just checking. You never spent much of what Deirdre paid you so you must have a nice fat bank account.”

  Damien narrowed his eyes. “I’ll only ask once more and then I’ll drag your sorry ass into the alley and beat the information from you.”

  “Fifty…for now.”

  His inner wolf bared its teeth and Damien barely held back the growl that rose in his throat. “You try and bleed me dry by delivering this one piece at a time and I’ll break your fingers one at a time. Spill what you know now.”

  “Then it’ll cost you a hundred.”

  “Fifty now. The rest if I decide your information is worth it.”

  Dante held out his hand and Damien pulled some bills from his pocket.

  Once the money was tucked away, Dante leaned forward. “You were on Deirdre’s hit list when you left.”

  “Old news, Dante. I knew that the moment I jumped ship.” Deirdre didn’t make idle threats, and, in the first few months, he’d had several brushes with her crew of assassins. The fact that he was still alive, a year and a half later, puzzled him. Her organization wasn’t inefficient; he’d worked for them long enough to know their capabilities. He was curious if Dante knew why the hunt had eased off, but wouldn’t give the bastard any satisfaction by showing an interest.

  “True. But shortly after you left, something happened. No one knows exactly what, but she let a lot of us go.”

  “So that’s why you’re scrounging for jobs?”

  Dante shrugged. “Deirdre paid me well. I became used to a certain standard.”

  Damien didn’t doubt that Dante had been paid better than most. The man had even fewer scruples than the rest of the team and would take on any job. But Dante wasn’t his concern at the moment. What did this news have to do with his own fate? “So...if she’s closed up shop, I’m no longer on her hit list?”

  “Perhaps. She didn’t exactly close shop; more like scaled back.” Abruptly, Dante leaned closer. He flicked a glance about the room and then whispered a question. “Do you have any idea what happened?”

  “No.”

  “I’m wondering if it has to do with Stone.”

  “Elijah Stone?” Damien frowned. The name was whispered in hushed tones within Deirdre’s organization. Supposedly, Stone and Deirdre had started the business together but, in his time there, Damien had never seen the man. In fact, he even questioned the mythical partner’s existence. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

  “Hmmm.” Dante rubbed his chin and his eyes focused on some distant point before he looked at Damien again. “I’d wondered if on that last day, you might have noticed something or heard something.”

  “Eaves-dropping was your specialty, not mine.”

  “Information acquisition.” Dante gave a short dry laugh. “I thought you might have known more; Deirdre always did have a thing for you.”

  Damien shook his head. “More like she was pissed off that I didn’t fall at her feet.”

  Dante shrugged and moved to stand up. “Well, thanks for the info—”

  Damien shot out his hand and grabbed the other man’s arm stopping him from moving farther. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m the one that paid for information.”

  “It was worth a try.” The other man slowly sat back down, massaging the spot that Damien had grabbed. “Of course, if you want more…” He extended his hand.

  “Dante, your information isn’t worth shit. I’m not paying you again. I want a refund.” Damien began to reach across the table, but Dante leaned away.

  “All right. Don’t start frothing at the mouth. I have more.” He licked his lips. “Your old partner—Reno—he got the charges against you dropped. Official files list you as an ex-Enforcer, no mention of dishonourable conduct.”

  Damien raised his brows. That was unexpected news. His time as an Enforcer seemed like another lifetime. Since leaving Lycan Link and parting ways with Deirdre, he’d knocked about the country, taking on odd jobs here and there, spending time with Kane’s pack now and then. He hadn’t hidden, but he’d kept a low profile. Mouldering away in detention didn’t appeal to him and, while he’d escaped the Trackers a few times, he’d known his luck wouldn’t hold out forever. Plus, it would have been too hard on Reno to have to testify against him. Though why he worried about the man, he didn’t know. Their final meeting in Grassy Hills hadn’t gone well. The look on Reno’s face—half accusing, half disappointment—had hurt, yet the man mustn’t have totally given up on him.

  Damn. Damien rubbed his neck, uncomfortable with the idea that Reno had continued to go to bat for him. He looked at the man sitting across the table from him. There was a speculative look in Dante’s eye that put Damien’s radar on alert. No way Dante was wasting his time delivering bits of good news.

  “So beyond giving me an update, what ‘old times’ did we need to discuss?”

  “Just a minute.” Dante flagged the waitress who was passing by. When she stopped, he gave her a warm smile. “My friend here said he’d pay my tab; his birthday present to me.”

  “What?” Caught off guard, Damien was a split second too slow to react. Dante was on his feet, the waitress between them.

  “I’ll be in touch.” With a salute, Dante slipped through the crowd.

  Damien fumed and dug out some money to pay the waitress, but by the time he was done, Dante was long gone.

  “Who was that?” Sam appeared at his side. She must have grown impatient waiting for him.

  “An old acquaintance.”

  She sniffed the air and a sneer curled her lip. “He wears lilac cologne?”

  Damien didn’t bother correcting her. Dammit, he knew he should have killed Dante last night!

  Chapter 8

  Kane sat at his desk and stared at the
backlog of work that awaited him. He’d just returned from Stump River and was now regretting having made the trip. The accountant needed to speak to him about an income tax problem, Lycan Link had sent three messages marked urgent, several pack members had requested personal meetings; the list went on and on. And that wasn’t counting the items John, his Beta, had dealt with during his absence.

  He sighed and opened up the first email from Lycan Link.

  “Kane, wasn’t it great to get away together? It was our first ‘family’ vacation.” Elise breezed into the room interrupting his train of thought.

  “What? Oh yeah.” Their blood bond was tickling his brain, letting him know how happy she was. It was also distracting him from the message on his screen.

  Elise perched on the edge of the desk. She swung her foot back and forth, a broad smile on her face. “I think we should try to get away with the kids a couple of times a year. Once could be to go see Ryne and Mel—I loved Stump River—and then another time could be something fun and educational for the kids.”

  “Uh-huh.” He frowned trying to divide his attention between his mate and his mail. Lycan Link was looking at restructuring… “Yeah. A vacation for the kids. Good idea.”

  “And we need to get away by ourselves once in a while, too.” She slid off the desk and stood behind him. “Time without the children interrupting or a pack emergency.” Slowly, she slid her hands across his shoulders and down his arms. Then, a moment later, her breath tickled his ear. “Wouldn’t that be great?”

  High Council was considering… Damn, he lost his train of thought again!

  “Elise.” Kane shrugged her hands off. “I’m trying to read an important message from Lycan Link and you keep distracting me.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “I’ve read this paragraph twice already and can’t make heads or tails out of it.”

  “Oh.” She stepped away, the smile leaving her face for a moment before returning, albeit not quite as bright as before. “Can I help you with anything? I know we were gone a week and things pile up.”