by I. T. Lucas
Perhaps she shouldn’t tell him about Emmett after all.
10
Margaret
When Bowen pulled in front of the terminal, a guy rolled a wheelchair up to Margaret’s side of the car and opened the door.
“Good afternoon, Margaret. I’m Charlie. Your pilot.”
She looked at Bowen, expecting a smile at the guy’s joke, but apparently, Bowen didn’t find it funny.
Well, she thought it was. “I hope you have experience piloting a wheelchair. I heard that it takes years of training to avoid crashing into innocent bystanders.”
Charlie laughed. “Good one.” He looked at Bowen who came around to her side. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?” She wrapped her arms around Bowen’s neck and pulled herself up.
It was difficult to be so close to him and act unaffected, but she forced her eyes open and plastered an indifferent expression on her face.
Thankfully she wasn’t prone to blushing, or her efforts would have been futile.
Bowen put her down on the wheelchair. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Charlie is piloting our family’s jet. He’s going to fly us to an airstrip near the cabin.”
She must have misunderstood. “Did you mean that the organization you work for has a private jet?”
“Yeah. That’s what I meant. Since it’s a family-owned business, I think of our corporate jet as belonging to the family.”
It occurred to Margaret that Bowen hadn’t told her anything about himself or the people he worked for, and she’d been too loopy from pain and then drugs to ask.
“It must be a lucrative business.”
That would explain why he’d been so incredibly generous, buying her an entire wardrobe and refusing to let her pay for anything. She didn’t have any money, but she had a credit card that Safe Haven provided community members for emergencies like medical treatments.
“It is.” Bowen handed Charlie a couple of the shopping bags. “I’ll drop the car off at the rental and bring the rest with me.” He pulled out the crutches from the backseat and handed them to Margaret to hold over her lap. “Are you going to be okay with Charlie until I come back?”
Margaret nodded, but she wasn’t happy about Bowen leaving her with the guy.
She’d been okay when he’d left her in the mall’s parking lot and went shopping for the stuff she needed, but for some reason, it didn’t feel the same to be left alone with the pilot.
There was something about him that she didn’t like. A smugness that might or might not be deserved, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes that spelled trouble. She was wary of his type, the charming ones who could turn on a dime and become cruel.
“Don’t worry.” Charlie pushed her chair toward the terminal. “We are not going anywhere without him.”
She affected a tight smile, but she could do nothing about the stiffness in her shoulders. They weren’t going to relax until Bowen was back.
Surprisingly, no one stopped them as the pilot wheeled her through the terminal and out to the area where the private jets were parked. Apparently, airport security worked differently in the private area.
He parked her chair next to the sleek jet. “I’ll take the crutches and the bags inside, and then I’ll come back for you.”
Looking at the steps going up into the jet, she wondered how he was going to do that. Would he carry her up?
That would be awkward. Regrettably, there was no way Bowen would arrive in time to prevent that and carry her up himself.
Damn, she had become ridiculously dependent on him. She shouldn’t allow herself to fall into that trap again.
The pilot came down the stairs. “I’m going to lift you together with the chair.”
“What? You can’t do that.”
She wasn’t heavy, but together with the chair, it was way too much for Charlie, who wasn’t nearly as burly as Bowen.
“Yes, I can.” He lifted the chair with her in it without even a grunt and carried her up the steps as if it was nothing.
“Are you a bodybuilder?”
He put the chair down in the aisle. “In my spare time. Can you wait here for Bowen to assist you into the seat?”
“Sure.”
That was strange. After the impressive show of carrying her up the stairs, the guy hadn’t been winded at all, so why did he want her to wait for Bowen?
Was he afraid of touching her?
It would seem so. The question was whether it was because of her injury or because of Bowen.
Maybe the pilot thought that there was something going on between them?
Some men got very possessive of their girlfriends and wives and didn’t like anyone else touching them. She didn’t trust those types any more than she trusted the cocky ones. Possessiveness was dangerous, and it could turn ugly, leading to very bad things.
Except, she wasn’t Bowen’s anything, and Charlie had nothing to fear from him.
The question was, did she?
11
Arwel
Arwel watched his prisoner through the surveillance camera mounted near the ceiling of Emmett’s cell.
Most of the cells in the dungeon had been converted into rooms, and Ingrid had done an incredible job of turning them into comfortable living quarters, especially given how small most of them were. What used to be a spartan bathroom facility that had been separated from the living area only by a pony wall was now an enclosed three-quarter bathroom that had a proper door.
The room itself was no longer stark white, with a single bed pushed against the wall. Somehow, she’d managed to squeeze in a full-sized bed, a nightstand, a dresser, a compact couch, a narrow coffee table, and a hotel-style minibar.
The safety features hadn’t changed, though, and Emmett couldn’t break free no matter how strong he supposedly was. He hadn’t tried anything yet, and neither Arwel nor the two other Guardians had had to use force to subdue him.
They could have put him in one of the dungeon cells that were still in their original Spartan form, but neither was adjacent to the one-bedroom apartment Arwel was staying in for the duration of this assignment.
His empathic feelers didn’t work as well with several thick walls separating him from his charge, and since Jin had insisted on joining him in the keep for at least some of the time, Arwel wanted her to be comfortable in the luxuriously appointed suite.
Officially, she was supposed to be staying in one of the apartments up top, but since it was the weekend, she was spending most of her time with him down in the dungeon. Except, he had a job to do, and she was bored.
With a sigh, Jin put her book down on the nightstand and pushed up on the pillows. “What’s he doing?”
“Same as before. Pretending to stare at the ceiling while fiddling with the cuffs.”
Putting one on each wrist was overkill, but that was how Kian wanted it.
“You should tell him to stop before they explode.”
“They won’t unless he manages to pull them off, and he’s not going to.” Arwel pushed to his feet, walked over to the bed, and sat down next to her. “You really shouldn’t be down here when I’m on duty. Kian is not going to be happy about it.”
“He doesn’t need to know. Before he comes over, I’ll go to the apartment upstairs.”
Arwel shook his head. “It’s not safe here for you during the day when I have to deliver food to him. The guy might try to escape, and I don’t want those cuffs exploding anywhere near you.”
Smiling, Jin flashed him her fangs. “Let him try. I’ll deal with him.”
As usual, the sight of her sexy fangs made Arwel instantly hard. “Those babies are meant for my pleasure, not for battle. Besides, you have no training, and you wouldn’t know what to do with them.”
She pouted. “That’s because you refuse to train me.”
“I said that I would teach you self-defense.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t deliver on that promise yet.”
He laughed. “Th
at’s because every time I start, we end up tearing each other’s clothes off.”
As she opened her mouth to answer, his phone rang.
“Speak of the devil.” He showed her the screen. “It’s Kian.”
“I’ll be quiet as a mouse,” she whispered.
“Good afternoon, Boss.”
“How is your prisoner doing?”
“Anxious.”
“Naturally. What else?”
“Angry, frustrated, all the usual you would expect from someone in his situation.”
“What about his inner makeup?”
“If you’re asking whether he’s evil, I don’t get that sense from him. If you want, I can get in there and have a chat with him, but you said to let him stew for a while.”
“I don’t want Emmett to guess that you are tuned in to him. He’d become more guarded with his feelings. Until we interrogate him tomorrow, I want to keep him off-balance and scared, so don’t engage him in conversation. Also, is it possible that the earplugs are diminishing your capacity to read him?”
Arwel chuckled. “My ability doesn’t require sound.”
“That’s what I thought, but I wasn’t sure. Anything else I should know?”
“He’s trying to fiddle with the cuffs. Should I tell him to stop?”
“Did you explain that they will explode if he manages to pull them off?”
“I did, but evidently he didn’t believe me.”
“Let him fiddle for a little longer, and then shock him and tell him that it was just a small taste of what they can do. He needs to know that they are for real.”
“I’ll do that.”
“By the way, did you tell Jin about him?”
As Arwel glanced at her, she scrunched her nose and shook her head.
“Just the basics.”
“You can tell her the whole story. There might be a connection.”
“I’d rather wait for William to prove or disprove Emmett’s claims. Did he get a response from his leader?”
“Not yet.”
“Then he’s probably making the whole thing up.”
“If not for Jin and Mey, that would have been my leading theory, but we can’t ignore the possible connection.”
Arwel rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I should call Peter and get more details.”
“You should. And say hi to Jin for me.”
Damn. “I will.”
As Kian ended the call, Jin let out a breath. “Someone must have told him that I was here.”
“I didn’t try to keep it a secret. Alfie or Mason might have said something to Onegus, or he might have seen you on the security feed. Kian didn’t sound mad, though, so it’s all good.”
“What did Kian mean by a possible connection between Mey and me and Emmett Haderech?”
The reason Arwel hadn’t told Jin what he knew was that he hoped it wasn’t true. Emmett claimed that his people were not immortal, only long-lived, and if Jin and Mey were related to them, they weren’t immortal either, and that would be devastating.
“Emmett told Peter a strange story about the people he supposedly belongs to, but I only have a few details of it. One of them was that their females have fangs.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before? That’s huge.”
“The leading theory is that Emmett is an immortal like us, and that he made the whole thing up to explain his bloodsucking fetish.”
“What else did he tell Peter about the females with fangs? Do they have venom too?”
“I don’t know. I should call Peter.”
Jin waved a hand. “Then what are you waiting for?”
12
Bowen
It was odd how attached Bowen had become to his fragile charge and how fast it had happened. After rushing through the car return process, he’d practically run all the way to the jet, ignoring the startled looks from passersby. Shrouding himself to look like airport security and hiding the bunch of shopping bags he had in each hand, Bowen ensured that no one stopped him on the way.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Charlie. The guy was perfectly capable of safeguarding her until his return, but he couldn’t help the uneasy feeling churning in his stomach when he was away from her.
Taking the steps two at a time, he turned sideways to fit the bags through the narrow opening and then dropped them on the floor.
For some reason, Margaret was still seated in the wheelchair, and he could immediately tell that something was off about her.
“Are you in pain?” He walked up to her and crouched in front of the chair.
“It’s manageable.”
“Are you sure? You can take one of the codeine pills.”
“Not yet. If it gets worse, I will.”
“Why are you still in the wheelchair?”
She arched a brow. “Charlie seemed to be afraid to touch me. He carried me up here inside the chair and then just left me sitting in it. He said you would help me when you got here.”
“He must have been afraid to move your leg.” Bowen wrapped his arms around her waist. “On the count of three.”
She pushed up and, bracing her weight on her good leg, slid into the aisle seat. “I could have done it myself. I don’t know why I waited for you.”
“I’m glad that you did. You could have hurt yourself.” He put a hand under her cast, activated the reclining mechanism, and then very gently lowered it on the extended footrest. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you.” She leaned back and closed her eyes.
Perhaps she was tired. It had been a long day, and sitting in the car while he’d shopped for her must have been uncomfortable. He’d done it in under half an hour, but still.
When he was done stowing away the shopping bags, he joined Margaret, glad that they weren’t on a commercial flight where he would have had to climb over her to get to his seat.
“Buckle up,” Charlie said. “We are moving out.”
Margaret pulled on one side of the safety belt and searched for the other.
“I’ll get it.” He pushed his hand into the crevice, pulled out the other half, and snapped them together.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes again as if keeping them open was an effort.
Letting his senses probe, he felt the pain she was trying to brave.
“You need to take one of the pills the doctor prescribed for you.” He pulled a water bottle from the side compartment and handed it to her. “I’ll get the pills.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. It’s not that bad.”
“Why wait when you can be comfortable? Do those pills have an adverse effect on you?”
“Yeah.” She smiled feebly. “I like them too much.”
“I don’t understand.”
She looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. “Don’t you know that opioids are addictive?”
Frowning, he pulled the container of pills out of the bag and examined it. “This is codeine, not morphine.”
“Codeine converts to morphine when it reaches the brain. It has the same effect.”
“I didn’t know that. But still, it’s not like there is enough in here to get addicted to.” He shook the container. “You need to take one now before the pain gets too bad.”
She let out a sigh. “Fine.”
When she was done, Margaret put the water bottle in the cup holder. “You work in security. Haven’t you ever been injured?”
“Plenty of times.”
“So you must know what those drugs can do.”
He didn’t because when he’d been injured, different methods had been used to numb pain, mainly shitloads of whiskey.
Instead, he had to lie. “They don’t affect me that way.”
“Then you are lucky. They are highly addictive.”
He wondered whether she’d been speaking from personal experience or just a general fear of getting addicted to painkillers.
“Have you ever been addicted?”
She nodded. “It was a long time a
go, and it’s not something I like to talk about.”
“I bet. No one likes to admit a weakness. But if it’s a chemical reaction, then it’s not really your fault, right? I guess that some people are just more susceptible than others.”
He had no clue if that was true, but the moment Margaret dozed off, which was going to happen soon because of the pill, he was going to search the internet for answers.
“I like the floaty feeling I get.” She rubbed her chest. “The load lightens, and I can breathe freely. I wish there was a healthier way of achieving the same result.”
“It’s the pain relief.”
“It’s more than that.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “But right now, I’m grateful for it.”
13
Eleanor
Eleanor stood in front of the open fridge and grimaced. “That’s all the food you have?”
“I can make an omelet,” Greggory suggested. “Or we can go grab a sandwich at the café.”
“After a week in the damn retreat, I’m not in a mood to see people. I’ll take you up on your offer.” She pulled out a carton of eggs and handed it to him. “What else do you need?”
“Butter, an onion, and sausages.”
“Sounds yummy.” Eleanor handed him the three items and closed the fridge door.
He pulled a pan out of a drawer and put it on top of the stove. “I heard that it was a close call. I’m still waiting for you to tell me what happened.”
She arched a brow. “I told you most if it when I called you on the way to the airport.”
Greggory dropped a chunk of butter into the pan. “You only told me that Emmett locked you in a room, and that when Peter came looking for you, the guy used compulsion on him. You didn’t tell me what happened before he locked you up, and I have a feeling that I’m not going to like it.”
Eleanor crossed her arms over her chest. “So why do you ask?”
“Because I need to know.” He cracked several eggs into a bowl and started whisking them vigorously. “If the asshole hurt you, I want to take it out of his hide.”