by Odessa Lynne
The rumble at his back sent a shiver down his spine.
Matthew’s shoulders loosened and he sat back carefully in his chair.
The direction of his gaze shifted and he stared at Cam as if he knew exactly what Cam was thinking.
Cam was thinking he finally had hope he would get the only thing he’d really wanted for the last six years.
Retaliation.
Chapter 24
Sometime between the night of the first interrogation and the morning of the third, Cam started to recognize words.
Not that Cam understood all that much at first.
The words started to have meaning during sex. Rick’s rumble coalesced into “ . . . mate . . .” and “ . . . mine . . .” and Cam didn’t have to hide his gasp or shock because he was riding the waves of an intense orgasm while Rick seemed too caught up in riding Cam to notice anything at all.
“Fuck, yes!” Cam said, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing onto Rick’s arms.
“Mine,” Rick said again, and the sound cascaded through Cam with a depth that made gooseflesh out of his skin.
He didn’t tell Rick right away, because being able to understand what was being said around him when the people around him didn’t think he could was an advantage worth keeping for as long as possible.
But his desire to show his appreciation to Rick for all that he’d done defeated the part of him that thought keeping quiet was the smarter choice.
When he was resting that night, his back to Rick, he heard Rick talking quietly. He’d noticed the rumble of sound several times before after sex, but he hadn’t realized Rick talked to him.
“My life . . . universe . . .” A warm breath breezed over the back of Cam’s neck. “ . . . fate . . . unknown, but . . . mate, and . . .”
The whispered words against his shoulder didn’t have a lot of meaning jumbled up as they were with words Cam still couldn’t pick out and identify, but his chest squeezed tight and he had a hard time swallowing.
Rick stilled behind him, his hand coming up to rest on Cam’s chest over his heart. “ . . . wrong?” he asked, rubbing his palm over Cam’s chest at the same time.
Cam turned in Rick’s embrace. He put his arm around Rick’s neck and wedged his head in tight to Rick’s shoulder. “I’m starting to understand words,” he said, getting it out before he could change his mind. Rick deserved better than a mate who kept secrets from him.
Rick rubbed Cam between his shoulders. “Good,” he said.
Cam went to sleep like that, and that night, he didn’t dream of Henry.
He dreamed of Rick standing over him, claws extended, teeth sharp, and eyes bright with rage, and Cam had never seen anything so beautiful in his life even though he knew Rick was going to have to kill him for what he’d done.
* * *
Of course, dreams weren’t reality and Cam hadn’t actually done anything to make Rick want to kill him.
Not yet.
He was afraid he might, if the opportunity came. Rick deserved better, but Cam couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities, how it would feel.
“First Alpha has agreed to your request to meet with his mate,” Rick said. “He’s between heat cycles at the moment, and this might be your only opportunity for several days. Do you still want to meet with him?”
Cam looked up from the table where he’d spread several computers across its warm wood surface, and frowned at Rick. Rick had just returned from whatever it was he did when he was gone, and Cam had been going through some of the information from Salvadore Jones he’d been granted access to. He still hadn’t been allowed to talk with any of his own people, and that had started to bother him. Rick had placed the computers in front of Cam with care, but when Cam had asked about collaborating with his people, Rick had given him a flat refusal and a firm look that had told Cam not to bother asking again.
But why not? What trouble did they think he could cause if he met with Ava or the boys or any of the others?
He’d held off asking, though, because every day seemed to gain him a new freedom, and his patience might pay off quicker than demands and complaints.
It had been several days since he’d made the request to meet with Greer. If they were already ready to let him have access, then maybe he’d picked the right angle after all.
“That easy?”
“He won’t be alone. If you were hoping for your conversation to remain private . . .” He left the sentence unfinished.
Cam shook his head and pushed to his feet. “I don’t care who the fuck’s there. I just have a few things to say to the man and I want my chance to say them.”
Rick’s gaze flickered over Cam, his gold eyes curiously flat. “Some things should not be said.”
Cam clenched his fists, then forced himself to relax. “This should be.”
Rick came the rest of the way into the room to stop in front of Cam. He took one of Cam’s fists in his hand. His fingernails completely hid his claws, but his grip was firm. “He is First Alpha’s mate. You’ll submit to him the way a beta should, or you’ll suffer the consequences of defiance. Don’t let a reckless disregard for your emotions determine your fate.”
Cam pulled his hand free. “Excuse me?”
Rick touched Cam’s face. “My sweetheart.”
It was odd hearing the endearment he’d let slip with Rick come back at him. “What the hell are you trying to say?”
Rick’s claws came out and he drew one along Cam’s cheek. The sensation tickled Cam’s skin, but the look in Rick’s eyes held Cam still and watchful.
“Fate isn’t predetermined. You have choices. When Henry died, it hurt you, here.” Rick’s other hand pressed hard to Cam’s chest, right over his heart. “You haven’t given yourself the freedom to make new choices because your emotions still control you. You disregard that truth with reckless abandon.”
Cam mashed his lips tightly closed.
Rick’s eyebrow ticked up at the edge as if he were fully aware of the effect his words were having on Cam. “You’ve regained your ability to see and hear, but you’re as blind and deaf to fate as you’ve been since the day your first mate died.”
One deep breath was all Cam allowed himself. “Have you been taking lessons from one of your diviners? I’m not a fan of bullshit wrapped up in pretty words, sweetheart. Save them for when we’re fucking next time, okay?”
Rick didn’t overtly react to Cam’s words. He took a slow breath and let it out just as easily as he’d taken it in.
Still, Cam knew.
He reached for the back of Rick’s neck.
Rick stepped back, away from Cam’s touch. “We have to leave now if this is what you want. Don’t bring anything with you.”
Jesus.
He hadn’t meant to say that. He definitely didn’t want to leave Rick with—
“I’m sorry.” He grabbed Rick’s arm.
Rick stopped, but didn’t turn. He stood stiffly, his gaze fixed toward the room’s doorway.
“I’m so sorry,” Cam said. “I swear to God I don’t know why I said that.” He pushed into Rick’s space, took Rick by the neck and kissed him softly on the jaw. “You’re right, I’m reckless. I’m foolish. I’m not in control. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He kissed Rick’s lips.
Rick’s hands closed on Cam’s arms. He set Cam back from him with a strength Cam couldn’t match. “We don’t want to be late.”
Cam wanted to grab Rick and shake him, make him accept the apology. Instead, he nodded and said, “Of course. Yeah.”
* * *
Brendan Greer looked just like the almost four year old image Cam had of him. The years hadn’t change his outward appearance much at all. His hair was cut shorter, neater, and his blue eyes weren’t so hard. Other than that, and the image Cam had could have come from that very day.
Cam’s father had partnered with Robson Greer a short six months before the first heat season. The partnership had ended when his father’s wealth disappeared and
Jones vanished, and the story his father had told Cam later had been simple and short.
“I thought we had the same ideals,” Pace had said. “But he wasn’t a good man, and I didn’t like where he wanted to take the research and testing. Then the money was gone and the decision was out of my hands. I couldn’t supply the money he needed to keep going. He had to find someone else. I warned Jones what his plans were, and that was the last time I ever saw either of them.”
Brendan Greer had been one of the renegades’ former leaders. To the best of Cam’s knowledge as a former leader himself, the main purpose of the attacks wasn’t to drive the wolves to leave Earth; the purpose of the attacks was to steal technology and capture the occasional prisoner for testing and research.
The rest of the story—and the killing—was just a way to draw in recruits and hide the evidence.
Cam had lived with the knowledge for years that Ricco had probably turned Henry’s body over to Greer.
The whole operation infuriated Cam. He didn’t know how much Brendan knew of what his father had been up to, but he couldn’t believe it was less than he knew about his own father’s operations.
Three years ago, the wolves had delivered the elder Greer to the organization Cam worked for. He’d been punished for his crimes with prison, and within a year, he’d been dead.
But his son Brendan had become the mate of the wolves’ First Alpha.
He’d turned on the renegades after he’d been captured by the wolves near the end of the last heat season. Lane had shared inside knowledge of the event because of his connection to several of Greer’s friends, and from what he’d told Cam and his superiors, it hadn’t been a simple case of Greer falling for the leader of the wolves and ending up mated. There’d been drugs and manipulation involved, and possibly even some form of brainwashing.
According to Lane, Greer was a different man than the man who had acted as a liaison between Robson Green, his father, and—in those days—the loosely organized groups of renegades.
Brendan Greer had gotten a second chance, and by all appearances, he’d made good with it.
Cam hated him for that as much as he hated Greer for anything.
Second chances were for people like Ava and Mig and Luis—and Henry. Not for people like Brendan Greer.
“Sit down,” Brendan said, gesturing toward the chair across from him at the rounded oak table. He had two companions flanking him. Both men were eyeing Cam with cautious welcome.
Brendan smiled. “They showed me your picture or I wouldn’t have believed it. You’ve got the same intimidating look Rick has.”
“Son of a bitch needs a hair cut,” the man on Brendan’s left said. He scratched his smoothly shaved jaw and eyed Cam, his gaze sharp. “I don’t like this. He’s hiding something and it’s making the goddamn hair on the back of my neck stand up.”
The man on the right just sat in place and watched Cam.
He was the one Cam needed to keep an eye on, if he—
But no, he had promised himself he would take things as they came. He owed Rick—his mate—much more than that and he wouldn’t ignore what Rick had said.
The walk from their house to this one had taken a while. Long enough for Cam to think back over how he’d reacted to Rick’s words and realize what a total dick he’d been just because he’d felt—what? Attacked. Punished. Like he hadn’t fulfilled his job as a mate, because he hadn’t been willing to set aside his feelings for Henry?
None of it had justified hurting Rick, and he was sure that’s exactly what his reference to their mating as fucking had done. It had been pointed and deliberate, and Rick had known.
Cam walked up to the table, pulled out the chair across from Brendan, and sat.
“He’s not smiling back,” Brendan’s companion said again.
“I’m Cam Lujan,” Cam said, looking right at the guy. “You are?”
“Devon,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Devon Fletcher. I don’t like you, prick, so let’s get that out of the way. You’re the one Gerald’s been spying for and that just pisses me off every time I think about it.”
“Devon,” Brendan said. “Let it go for now.”
“No, I won’t fucking let it go,” Devon said, sliding forward on his elbow on the table’s slick surface. “Kem’s always telling me I need to be more forgiving, but that shit’s for the wolves. I’ll be as suspicious and unforgiving as I want and don’t you forget it for one goddamn minute.”
Brendan’s eyebrows raised, and the man on his other side snickered.
Cam frowned.
Devon reared back and crossed his arms and glared across the table at the man with brown hair. “Don’t you fucking start, you dick.”
“It’s a private joke,” Brendan said, looking at Cam. “You’re probably going to have to try to ignore them both. Trey didn’t think this was a good idea, but I talked him around.”
“Talked with your—God Almighty! Ow, you son of—” Devon started to lunge across the table at the guy on Brendan’s other side, but Brendan smacked his hand into the center of Devon’s chest and shoved him back into his seat.
“Sorry,” the other guy said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Brendan said. “I know what you were doing.” He turned to Devon and gestured between himself and Cam. “First meeting. Rick’s mate. Try not to say anything I’ll regret.”
“You shouldn’t have told me to get my ass down here then. I’ve been busy.” A gleam came into his eyes that caught Cam’s attention. Devon stared across the table at the other guy. “I was having a candid conversation with Sal about some things got said the morning Ian and Craig showed up to pull them out of the woods.”
“Brendan, you shut him up or I’m going to,” the brown haired guy said, looking dead on at Devon. “He’s been itching for a fight ever since the thing with Gerald started and I’m getting damn tired of the picking.”
“Okay, fuck. Stop it. I’m not your fucking referee, Devon, Ian. If I have to say submit to either one of you to get your attention, I’m kicking you the hell out of here and you can spend the rest of the evening cleaning shit out of the classroom toilets.”
That caught Ian’s attention. He grimaced and rolled his shoulders before easing back in his chair enough that it was obvious he was making himself relax.
Devon, on the other hand, huffed, and clenched his hands together on the table’s top. “Submit, my ass,” he muttered.
Brendan ignored him, with what looked like long practice, and leaned over the edge of the table, putting weight on his forearms. “Tell me why you wanted to meet me.”
“You recruited Ricco Swanger. I just wanted to tell you a little about the motherfucker who killed my mate.”
Chapter 25
The sudden silence leaked into every crevice in the room until the only sound Cam heard was the heavy thud of his own heartbeat.
Devon rubbed his hand over his scruffy blond hair. “Fucking trouble. I knew it.”
Brendan’s voice came out whip sharp, “Shut up, Devon.” His gaze didn’t leave Cam. “Go ahead, then, tell me about the motherfucker who killed your mate. I want to hear it.”
“Shit,” Ian said, voice soft and troubled.
Devon sat back, his gaze on Brendan, his head shaking.
“Ricco Swanger married young. He was divorced by the time he was twenty-two, but he’d fathered two boys and a girl, by two different women, one his wife, the twins by his half-sister.”
A chair creaked. Cam didn’t look to see who it belonged to.
“She died in childbirth. Not that common before the wolves came but it happened. His wife died a year later, and his baby girl died a few months after that. He had another half-sister through his father, and her name was Ava. She knew what kind of man Ricco was, suspected how his half-sister had died, and she was worried about the twins. She had reason to be. Ricco wasn’t nice to them. But she didn’t have proof of any wrongdoing. Then Ricco disappeared with the twins, and the wolves came before the
legal battle was over. So she spent several years tracking him down, and she made another plan, something more dangerous, more daring.”
He clenched his fingers together until his knuckles ached. “You see, she wanted those boys and she wanted them badly. Once Ricco dropped out of the system, he started to taunt her with them. A little cut here, a little bruise there. And then a bigger bruise, and a slash deep enough to see bone. She lost her patience and she went in early, and the guys she had with her weren’t enough.”
Cam breathed deep and stared into Brendan’s eyes. “Because Ricco had discovered a clever way to get his hands on weapons and men. He convinced some fucking fool to put him in charge of a group of renegades, to give him power and the tools to use it.”
“Shit,” Ian said again, so softly Cam wondered if he’d actually heard it.
Brendan, on the other hand, said nothing. He stared back at Cam with those tight blue eyes, his mouth a straight line and his hands clenched just as tightly as Cam’s. He nodded once, as if to say keep going.
So Cam did.
“Ricco bashed in the side of his son’s head with the fucking barrel of one of those guns. Mig was seven years old. I don’t even know how he survived. He wasn’t well when I met him two years later. Luis has scars. He’s terrified of the dark.”
His voice shook and for the first time, he slipped and didn’t remember to call Rick by his full name. “Rick killed my mate with a weapon he got from you. And he had help doing it. Help you’d pointed in his direction. Maybe I shouldn’t blame you. You didn’t make him into a psychopath, and you weren’t much older than me at the time, but by God, I do. I blame you almost as much as I blame him.”
Brendan released the clench of his hands and rubbed the back of his finger across his lips. His eyes held steady, but Cam saw the shake in those fingers and felt a surge of satisfaction that his story had had an effect on the man.
When Brendan was done, he lowered his hand to the table and cleared his throat. “I can never atone for my part in what happened to you. I’m not going to try to explain to you why I did any of it, because you won’t care. I wouldn’t. But I’m sorry. I live with the knowledge of what I’ve done, and it eats at me, still. There’ll never be anything to take that away. Trey wouldn’t let me leave those memories behind. I’m glad he didn’t. I need to know what kind of man I could have been. But that’s not who I am anymore. I thought I was doing what I had to do at the time, but I know I went about it all the wrong way. I fucked up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”