“Caleb, right?” Mark hesitated. “Charlie isn’t who he says he is, is he?”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s usually outgoing, but it’s like he always keeps a part of himself guarded. He has secrets he wouldn’t tell us, but I’m thinking it involves you, doesn’t it?”
Charlie, Caleb realized, cared for Mark, not as a lover, but as a friend. He couldn’t risk socking Mark in the face and using him as bait. So Caleb trusted what his gut was saying and told Mark the truth, or at least a condensed version of it. Mark’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.
“Oh, my God, that’s the most tragic thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard plenty of stories working at the club. You guys are, like, doomed lovers in a paranormal movie.” Resolve filled Mark’s eyes. He suddenly grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Tell me what I can do to help. I’m only human, but I’ll do my best.”
“In fact, you can do something even better. For Charlie and me,” Caleb began, letting the seriousness sink in his voice. “But I have to warn you, Mark. What I’m planning is fucking dangerous. You might get hurt in the process.”
Mark puffed up his chest. The banged-up human, Caleb decided, had some spice to him. No wonder Charlie liked him. “Don’t underestimate us humans,” Mark stated.
“How good an actor can you be?”
“Excuse me, bad boy. I’m a stripper, which is close enough to acting.”
“Good.” Caleb showed him teeth. For the first time, Mark paled, but that was all right. Both of them needed to play the performance of a lifetime.
“Why is that a good thing?
“You’re going to play the unwilling victim.”
Mark swallowed. “And you?”
Caleb smiled wider. “I’m going to play the big bad wolf. Better pray to God one of the kidnappers still possess a sentimental heart.”
****
Caleb didn’t want to waste any unnecessary time planning. As a fighter and occasionally killer-for-hire in the paranormal underworld community, Caleb had many sources to tap on. In his line of work, it paid to have friends who owed him favors in times like these. He used up all his resources and managed to hit up on several clues about suspicious newcomers in town. It didn’t hurt Charlie’s scent remained fresh in his mind.
“Where are we going?” Mark yelled behind Caleb on his bike.
“The old Maddock shipyard. You know anything about that place?” Normally, Caleb would have scoped out a location before placing a hit, but he didn’t have that luxury—especially when it involved Charlie.
Ten fucking years of keeping Charlie safe, and Caleb finally slipped. If only he’d kept his distance, then none of this would have happened. Some selfish part of him knew he didn’t regret coming to town and seeing his mate all grown up. Sooner or later, Charlie would find someone else, want someone else other than Caleb, and Caleb refused to have that.
Charlie belonged to him and no one else. Their time apart had only sharpened his need to a keen and fine edge. Deny a dominant werewolf for so long, and he’d snap. Hell, Caleb started wishing for the things he’d thought were impossible after parting with Charlie. No awkward dates for them, but each time Caleb claimed Charlie, their bond would deepen. Maybe, sometime in the future, Charlie would concede to Caleb knotting him and eventually carrying their pups.
That was why Caleb would die trying to take back his mate.
Caleb felt Mark shiver behind him.
“That place’s abandoned. Local kids call it haunted. Some folks say a rag tag band of pack-less shifters live there. Turn right on I-038,” Mark said.
Trusting Mark knew his way around the city, Caleb followed his directions. Within fifteen minutes, Caleb steered his bike onto a side road with flickering lampposts. They reached the abandoned shipyard in a couple of minutes. Able to see in the dark, Caleb shut off his headlights and stopped the bike by the curb.
“Hell, this place is freaky,” Mark muttered.
Caleb got off his bike. Mark followed, staying close to him by grabbing his arm. Caleb could smell fear on the mortal, but there was no helping it. Mark had been brave enough to agree to the crazy idea.
He studied his surroundings, warning his wolf to keep alert. The wired fence surrounding the yard remained intact. The warehouses were spray-painted with graffiti and boarded up with planks. There were couple of old rusty shipping containers piled up on one side like a couple of toppled blocks, but the property remained abandoned otherwise. There were barely any lights on, with the exception of the warehouse with the faded number seventeen painted on its side.
“Over there,” Caleb said quietly. He checked his gear—sawed-off shotgun, revolver, and silver-edged knife. Then he turned to Mark. “Know how to use a gun?”
“I grew up in a farm. My dad taught me to shoot when I was twelve. I haven’t held one for a long time, but I think I remember how,” Mark admitted.
“Good enough.” Caleb handed him a spare revolver and said, “Keep close to me. We need to move in complete darkness so we won’t catch their attention. The objective is to blindside them. Hit hard before they can react.”
“You’re awfully good at this,” Mark whispered, tone suspicious.
Caleb shrugged. “Want to help me save Charlie, or have you changed your mind?”
“I’m coming with you,” Mark hissed.
“Come on.”
Mark caught the hem of his shirt, and Caleb led the way. The Evenfall fuckers better be wise enough to keep Charlie intact. This time, Caleb wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving any of their bloodline alive.
Chapter Six
Charlie thought he dreamt up the entire nightmare, including his reunion with Caleb, until he woke up. Voices argued in one corner, familiar and crass. He bit back the urge to scream when he found he couldn’t move.
Old aches from his recent beating flared up. Charlie opened his eyes to half-slits. Coarse thick rope cut into his limbs, and his ankles and wrists were bound to the head and footboard of an iron-framed bed. He discovered he lay on a stained bare mattress, splayed naked like some kind of offering. Charlie remembered Ben’s words and how they planned on breeding him and repopulating their nearly extinct pack.
Panic threatened to explode inside of him, but Charlie stuffed it back.
Think. What would Caleb do in such a situation?
Charlie twisted his head to study his surroundings. He thought they’d be in a dingy room somewhere in an underground basement or seedy motel, but he was wrong. Rotten boxes were piled against the wall, along with some kind of crane. The walls extended to a high ceiling, and it took him a second to realize they were in some kind of factory or storehouse.
God. How would Caleb find him now? He couldn’t have been unconscious for long, so they must be still be somewhere in the city—the old ship yard or perhaps the closed-down factories on Mill Road?
If Caleb had taken him aggressively and given Charlie his mate mark, then Caleb could use their bond to trace his location. Would Charlie have agreed?
No. He’d fought Caleb tooth and nail tonight. Thought it was better to think it over and give them both time to ponder, but now Charlie didn’t have that.
What would happen to Caleb once these bastards had their way with him? Caleb outright confessed Charlie had been his sole reason for living. He’d bled and cut pieces of his soul to keep Charlie safe. If Charlie died, Caleb would follow soon after.
The thought ached. Hurt worse than the mind-numbing fear Charlie felt for his own safety. Charlie stared at the ring, still on his finger, and remembered his promise. He’d be damned if he let circumstance and a couple of evil wolves get in the way of Caleb and his future.
“Are you awake, little omega?” a mocking voice asked. Ben’s leering face appeared, followed by Travis. Travis cracked his knuckles, and Charlie squirmed in his bonds at the sound.
“Look at him. He’s practically pissing himself in fear,” Travis remarked, licking his lips. “Brother, why don’t you tell
the little shit what we’re planning to do to him?”
“Tonight’s festivities are going to be the first of many, omega.”
Charlie swallowed, not wanting to hear the rest.
“We’re going to take turns. Occasionally mount you together. Tell me, omega, have you ever had two cocks stuffed up in that tight little ass of yours?”
Charlie didn’t know where he found the nerve to eye the bulges in his captors’ jeans and sass back. “You think that would impress me? I’ve had better.”
That earned him a smart crack-whip smack. Travis’ fist blurred, catching the side of Charlie’s jaw. Pain streaked up his face, but Charlie bit back his moan. If he learned anything from being an omega for the most of life, it was never showing predators weakness.
Ben grabbed Travis’ arm. Charlie expected anger, but the amusement on Ben’s face made him more uneasy. Angry shifters were predictable. Calmer ones possessed cunning and did the unexpected.
Ben’s gaze glinted with unconcealed glee and malice. Not hard to discern the prospect of hurt excited Ben, but it wasn’t anything like the confident but careful dominance Caleb exerted.
“Let’s see how long that resolve lasts, omega.” Ben turned to Travis, grinning. “You were right, Trav. I like feisty.”
Ben approached the bed, his hand on Charlie’s thigh. Charlie squirmed, dreading what would happen next. The dim lights above them flickered—once, a couple of times, before becoming steady.
“What the fuck?” Travis muttered under his breath. “You smell any intruder, Ben?”
Ben withdrew his hand, frowning. “Might be a flux. Check it out.”
Travis blistered. “I’m sick of always doing the dirty work while you break in the fresh meat.”
“Are you questioning my fucking authority, Travis?” Ben asked, looking uncertain when Travis turned to him.
Travis might be the muscle, but being the bigger bully had its advantages Charlie supposed. Not that Travis would be much of an improvement. Was it too much to hope the lights hadn’t been a fluke and that, by some miracle, Caleb tracked him all the way here?
Hope flickered inside him, but Charlie squashed the tiny flame. Crushing disappointment would be worse to endure as opposed to expecting nothing. He’d waited for Caleb for ten years, hadn’t he? Hung on until the days, weeks, and months passed and eroded whatever faith Charlie had left in him his mate would return to him soon.
Why would Caleb come now? Caleb was never there when Charlie needed him. It was an unfair thought, but none of this would have happened if Caleb hadn’t come back and led Ben and Travis to him.
“Time you learned to share, big brother,” Travis hissed. “I want the breeding mongrel fresh, not second-hand goods.”
Ben snarled. “Fine. We’ll discuss this later.” Ben turned his back, muttering under his breath, “probably just some fucking animal.”
Charlie gulped once Travis and he were left alone.
“Looks like it’s just me and you,” Travis sneered, showing teeth. “Are you ready to have a good time?”
****
Crouched behind an old shipping container, Caleb peered out again. Mark did the same. Recognizing the tall bald ugly fucker, Caleb swore under his breath. Beside him, Mark tensed.
“That’s him. I think he’s the brains of the operation,” Mark whispered.
Caleb gripped his shotgun, fingers digging into the metal to contain his uneven breathing and his beast. His pissed-off wolf lingered under his skin, eager to burst forth. The primal instinct to lurch at his enemy, cripple him, before going for his throat and taste the hot rush of blood rose up in Caleb. He snuffed it down. Any flare of emotions would get Ben Evenfall’s attention, rendering their plan unusable.
Instead, Caleb focused on the terrified human. He spun Mark, grabbed his shoulders, and asked, “You ready?”
Mark let out a shaky laugh. “Hell, no, but let’s do it.”
Caleb nodded in approval. “Go. Remember, don’t panic and act your part. I have your back.”
Resolutely, Mark stepped out into the opening. The human nearly stumbled on a discarded beer can on the ground. Caleb winced, but the sound caught Ben’s attention. Ben’s eyes narrowed, he moved and, in seconds, tackled Mark to the ground. Deciding the set up was a bust, Caleb was about to dive into the action, but he hesitated when Mark rammed the heel of his hand up Ben’s face.
“Wait, please,” Mark managed to rasp.
Ben snarled, but to Caleb’s surprise, didn’t hurt or kill the human. It was only for a couple of seconds, but Caleb saw the flicker of emotions pass across the ugly bastard’s face.
Very interesting.
“You. What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you I will kill you when I see you again?” Ben demanded
Mark bit his lip.
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispered. “But I followed you and your brother. I wanted to see you, maybe…I don’t know, convince you to let go of Charlie?”
“Are you stupid? What kind of human thinks that?” Ben demanded. Suspicion crept into Ben’s voice, as he looked around. “Is this some kind of plot?”
Mark reached out and grabbed Ben’s jaw so the werewolf looked at him. “No,” Mark said, voice firm. “Please, you don’t understand. Charlie’s my own family. Won’t you reconsider? We won’t tell anyone this happened.”
Ben shook his head. “You don’t get it. There are forces at play beyond your understanding, little human.”
Ben’s hand lashed out, but he halted when Mark pressed a hand over his chest. “I know there’s a good heart underneath your tough armor. Please. Help me understand.”
“I’ll be damned,” Caleb muttered.
Jesus, the human was a good actor. He crept out of his hiding place, content Mark would keep Ben distracted for a couple of minutes. Caleb sniffed, caught Charlie’s scent a second later. He headed into the unguarded warehouse, temper frayed.
A shrill scream tore at his eardrums, one that came from a bruised throat. A sound Caleb never wanted to hear again. Rage coated his vision. His control snapped. When his beast demanded retribution, Caleb stopped fighting his wolf. He didn’t remember dropping his gun or dispensing with the annoying obstructions to his shift like shoes and clothes. Caleb tore at the fabric, relieved to feel the taste of the night air caressing his skin.
The change came quickly. Fur replaced human skin. Claws and canines replaced useless human teeth and nails. Organs shifted, and once Caleb’s paws hit the ground, he began to run despite the incomplete shift. With no patience for subtlety, Caleb barreled into the entrance.
His head snapped to where Charlie’s fear smelled prominent. Caleb’s brain took in the bare minimum, the detail that would haunt him for the rest of his life—rusty iron bed, silver chains, and the lean-bodied, bruised, and bloodied figure underneath the poor fucker who was about to be his next meal.
“What the—” Travis began, but he didn’t finish his sentence.
Caleb rammed into him, throwing him off Charlie’s body.
“Caleb,” Charlie whispered, that one word full of relief, need, and longing, but Caleb didn’t have time to give him a reply.
He’d tangled with the brothers before, knew Travis and Ben had been formidable enforcers for their pack. That was why Caleb insisted Mark play bait. Despite his experience dealing with scum, he couldn’t take both of them at once. Ben and Travis acted like a well-coordinated tag team.
Travis and he rolled on the hard concrete fall, a tangle of limbs. For a large guy, Travis sure moved fast. Seeing the fur on Travis’ arms and hearing bones creak, Caleb bit and clawed. He wanted Travis’ throat and end the fight early, but Travis slammed an elbow into his muzzle. God knew how long Mark could distract Ben before Ben felt the bloodlust from Caleb’s wolf.
Caleb sunk his canines into the meaty part of Travis’ left arm, ripped out a chunk, but Travis slammed something against his belly. The blade went in smoothly. Caleb growled, realizing a second later it was made of
silver.
“Take that, fucker,” Travis hissed.
Caleb twisted and managed to place some distance between them. Blood welled from the stab wound. Silver acted fast on their kind. Draw the fight any longer, and Caleb would begin to slow down. The same knowledge glinted in Travis’ eyes.
“Come at me, Caleb. Go on. I won’t kill you instantly, bastard. I’ll leave you intact enough so you can watch me rip the insides of your mate.”
The image leaped at Caleb, unbidden and sudden—Charlie’s body a ruin, his face streaked with drying tears, and his throat hoarse from calling out to him. Fuck. Drawing on his anger, Caleb shaped it to something else. Razor-edge resolve. Dispensing with slow and careful, Caleb went for the offensive. He played dirty, dodging Travis’ knife, and bit down on his right calf. The bastard shrieked as he fell off-balance, face-first into the ground. Caleb was on him in seconds, teeth on his throat.
A gun went off somewhere, but Caleb fixated on his kill and ended it. Blood spurted, coated his muzzle, and ignited his thirst for violence. He would have gone further. Feast on the flesh of his enemy and cross that shaky line, but Charlie’s voice brought him back.
“Caleb, get yourself together,” Charlie snapped. “What was that? Who did you bring with you?”
With the adrenaline fading, Caleb limped over to Charlie. Gritting his teeth, Caleb forced himself to shift despite the stab wound. He tugged at the silver chains securing Charlie’s limbs with more energy than he expected. Caleb nearly fell, too, except Charlie wrapped his slender arms around his body.
“Christ, Caleb. Don’t you dare go out like a light. Stay with me,” Charlie urged. Caleb felt his fingers checking his wounds. Charlie cursed.
“Mark,” Caleb rasped, remembering what he needed to say.
Charlie’s eyes narrowed. He began to open his mouth, when they heard it again—another gunshot, louder and closer. They both craned their heads right in time to see Ben, with Mark tossed over his broad shoulder like a ragdoll. Caleb didn’t think the human was dead, only unconscious.
Rightfully His Omega Page 5