by Dannika Dark
Levi got down on all fours and lowered a long strip of fabric with the cutters tied to the end. The shears were heavy-duty compared to the smaller ones most people kept in their toolbox. When Simon reached for them, his phone slid off his stomach and hit the ground below. It sounded like another four feet of barbed wire below him, which wasn’t a pleasant thought. There was a little more than five feet between him and Levi—close enough that Simon might be able to reach up for his hand if he could get himself untangled.
The first thing he did was cut the wire that had been tightly pulling his right shoulder and digging into his neck. Once free, he carefully snipped at surrounding wires, playing a game that was similar to Jenga. One wrong move might cause a wire to recoil and send him on his merry way.
“I can’t reach my ankle,” he said, attempting to sit forward.
“Cut the wires near your leg,” Levi suggested. “It might loosen things.”
Simon put the jaws of the cutters around a wire that wrapped over his right shin. “Ever play that game Operation?”
“I don’t play games,” Levi fired back.
“Could have fooled me.”
“Fine. Tell me about the game.”
Simon steadied his hand and squeezed the grip. The wire sprang free and scraped his leg in the process. “It’s the one with the man lying on an operating table, and you have to retrieve all the body parts with tweezers.”
“Sounds like a fun game. I’ll be sure to buy that for my niece.”
Barbs cut into Simon’s hand as he leaned closer to his ankle. “It requires concentration, and if you hesitate for just one moment, then your tweezers touch the metal and electrocute you.”
“Jesus Christ. They sell that shit to kids?”
Simon glared at a wire digging into his shin. “Not for real, you bonehead. But that’s the idea; that’s the lesson you learn from the game. You have to make careful moves or there are consequences. Not just for you, but for the person you’re helping. You just handed me a big pair of tweezers.”
Levi cursed under his breath.
Simon’s shoulder was killing him where he’d been stabbed with the stunner, but he fought through the pain and gritted his teeth, realizing that this last cut was going to be the bitch of them all. The cords of muscle in his arm locked tight when he squeezed the handle, uncertain if the shears would cut through. When the wire snapped free, it pulled away and sliced his leg as it retracted to the darkness below.
Simon shouted out in pain.
“Justus is on his way,” Levi informed him.
A flurry of laughter erupted out of Simon. “You should have invited everyone. Why not make it a party?”
“Why the fuck would anyone dig a trench like this around an old building?”
“Either it was already here and he bought it this way, or he had plans. Seems like a Shifter thing to do. Some of those blokes like setting traps across their land.”
“You must have really pissed someone off.”
Simon glared up at him. “Are you going to keep flapping your gums, or can I concentrate before I amputate my leg?”
Levi cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“These were my favorite leathers,” Simon muttered.
He couldn’t see his toes because the wires were dragging his ankle down. He was just relieved that he’d thought to put his pants on before falling into this sodding pit. Some of the sharp pieces of metal were burrowed into his flesh, resting on bone. Sweat trickled down his brow as he slowly leaned forward, attempting to bend his knee to draw his foot closer. The tension below him shifted, and he held his breath.
Simon wedged one end of the shears beneath the wire. It was likely going to pinch some of his skin in the process, but he shut his eyes and squeezed with all the energy he had left.
A loud click sounded and nothing happened. He went for a second piece, grabbing a thick bed of wires beneath him to steady himself. His heart raced at a wicked beat, so he drew in a slow breath and calmed himself. After all, he wasn’t going to die from this. But he still wasn’t a fan of getting sliced up like a vegetable on a cutting board.
The wire snapped, and a terrible sound whipped through the air as it sprang free from his leg. Everything began moving below him, turning him toward the right. He quickly compensated by leaning the other way. Whoever had constructed this had done so with the intent of trapping their victims with enough wire that they would maim themselves in the process of escape. Uncertain if he might need the cutters again, he bit down on one of the rubber handles and held it in his mouth.
“See that root?” Levi pointed out with the flashlight. “Whoever dug this up couldn’t get all the roots from the nearby trees and bushes. Grab on to it. I think I can reach you.”
The root protruded from the muddy wall on his right and was about six inches in diameter. It looked close enough that if he could hold on, Levi might be able to reach his hand.
The problem was getting there. Either Simon was going to make a wrong move and slip into the tangled mess again, or he was going to have to make a flying leap for the branch. He wasn’t exactly in a springing position.
Then a thought occurred to him. Simon took the torn piece of shirt Levi had thrown down and made it into a lasso.
Levi was lying on his stomach above, peering over the edge. “Want me to take off my pants?”
“I’m sure you’d love nothing more.”
“I’m dead serious.”
Simon tightened the knot, the cutters still between his teeth. “Save your pants for later. I might need them if I get swallowed up by the abyss.”
He threw the shirt at the stump four times before it finally caught. Simon wasn’t sure how much this would help, but maybe it would give him some leverage in case he slipped. He drew up the chain that hung from his neck, but it was too heavy to risk flinging up to Levi. Simon didn’t particularly like the idea of asphyxiation, which is one reason he hadn’t looped the chain to the stump.
A few coils moved below, shifting the bed of steel. The stump was alongside him, so he pulled at the shirt to make sure it was hooked tight. He leaned forward as much as possible, his muscles trembling.
With a hard jerk he pulled the shirt and, at the same time, propelled himself forward. It was just enough momentum to send him in the right direction, and he reached up, using every scrap of energy he’d held in reserve to grip that stump. The wires snagged his pants and threatened to pull him back down.
“Grab my hand!” Levi yelled.
Simon hung from the stump, Levi’s hand just above it. That meant he had to let go with one hand, and he only had one shot not to mess this up. Since his right hand was the dominant one, he used that one to grip the stump and reached up with his left.
As soon as Levi clasped his hand, Simon let go of the stump and gripped Levi’s arm. He used his feet to climb the muddy walls, bracing his right knee on the stump as Levi pulled him up.
When Simon neared the edge, Levi suddenly fell back, yanking Simon out of the trench to land smack on top of Levi. The long chain clinked as Simon rolled onto his back, staring up at the moon again, this time as a free man.
“Jesus effing…” Levi sat up and looked Simon over. “You’re going to bleed to death.”
Simon tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. Levi’s fingers pressed against his jugular, searching for a pulse.
“I’m alive, you wanker.” He knocked Levi’s arm away with a weak slap of his hand.
“I’m going to heal up the nasty ones.”
Simon’s eyes rounded. “The hell you are. Keep your tongue away from my body.”
“First time I ever heard that,” he said with a chuckle. Then his expression became grim. “We don’t have time to fight about this. You know I have healing magic in my saliva and I can stop the bleeding until Justus gets here.”
“No.” Simon turned his head away.
“If your energy is weak and you bleed out, you could die.” Levi caged him with his hands on e
ither side. “Why does your scent always change around me? I thought for years that you’d get over it, but don’t think I haven’t picked up on the subtle fragrance of shame. And right now, I scent shame and terror. What the hell did I ever do to you? Are you really going to sit here and bleed to death because you have an issue with me?”
Simon’s heart fluttered as not enough blood filled it, and every cut on his body throbbed.
Levi hovered over him. “I don’t know how a man like you could be afraid of someone like me. I’m gay. That doesn’t mean I’m going to ravage you the first moment we’re alone.”
Simon shut his eyes, flashbacks of Julian returning. When he looked up again, Levi sat back.
“You were raped. That’s it, isn’t it?” Levi muttered, his nose twitching. “Christ, I had no idea.”
And there it was. A defining moment in Simon’s life, it clung to him like a rotting stench that would never go away. Even after all these years, he felt the humiliation gathering in him. It was the only wound he’d never been able to heal—not with Mage light, not with revenge, and not even with time. Had it just happened once, maybe. But Simon had endured years of brutality to the point where fighting just made it worse. He’d never forgiven himself for giving up.
Rage culminated within him. “So now you know. Does that make you happy?” he bellowed, clawing at the cuff around his neck.
“Hold still.” Levi rose to his knees and stuffed his meaty hand into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a key and held it up. “I used to work in a jail, remember? I carry all kinds of useful shit on me.”
When the collar clicked and pulled free, Simon wrapped his hands around his neck and turned onto his right side. He had endured all methods of torture and deaths that would kill a mortal, but this scene was triggering three centuries worth of post-traumatic stress.
Levi’s eyes were downcast. “Why didn’t you hire a Vampire or Sensor to take away the memory or emotional pain?”
Simon glared at a cricket in front of him. “I’m a strategist. I trust no one.”
Levi gently placed his warm hand on Simon’s left shoulder, his voice steady and genuine. “I won’t heal you without your consent. If it were just blood loss, I might not jump in, but I can tell they drained your energy. You’re not going to last long enough for Justus to show up. I need you to trust me. Look, we can split hairs over this all day, but I swear to you there’s nothing sexual in this for me. I don’t like sitting here watching my friend bleed to death—not when I can do something about it. Whatever he did to you, that wasn’t me. That’s not who I am, and you know it.”
Logically, Simon knew Levi was right. But tell that to the crazy part of his brain that was going into panic mode.
“Go on then,” Simon said reluctantly.
Levi drew in a deep breath. “Look, I can scent your mistrust, but this isn’t something I’ve been dreaming about. You’ve always been eye candy, but that’s about it. I don’t go for your type,” he said, sounding as if he were trying to make a joke in a situation that was brutally awkward.
Simon cut him a sharp glare but found his reaction to Levi’s words comical. He’d spent years wishing that Levi would take him off his radar, and now—half-naked and lying in an open field—he was mildly offended that he wasn’t his type.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Levi said, a chuckle escaping. “I swear… your scent changes more than your taste in women.”
“Stop trying to make me laugh,” Simon grunted, rolling onto his back. “Hurry up and tongue me.”
Levi rubbed his stubbly jaw. “I know you’re making light of this, but I’m not about to lick your entire body. There isn’t enough saliva on the East Coast to finish that job, but I’ll take care of the gashes on your leg and ankle. I’ll stop if you tell me to, but maybe you need to fight past whatever demons you have and think about saving yourself.”
Levi ripped Simon’s good leathers at the thigh and worked his tongue over the bleeding wound. Breed didn’t carry or catch diseases, but there was still a gross factor to it that made Simon wince. Chitahs acted reverently about the whole affair, as if they were delivering holy spit. Simon did everything he could to ignore Levi’s tongue lapping across his leg in long strokes. Tingling followed as the healing saliva began to work its magic. Simon had witnessed it, read about it, and yet he still marveled that the same mouth that could kill a Mage could also heal one.
Levi spat out a mouthful of blood and then swept his tongue over another bleeding wound. Simon covered his eyes and grimaced as tears sprang forth. A roar collected in his lungs and poured out of his mouth, his hands clenching in fists, his eyes filling with flashing stars.
Levi didn’t have a rough tongue; it was smooth and glided over his wounds like silk. He sealed up a cut by Simon’s ankle and then moved up the length of his body. When Simon looked at him, he was struck with surprise that Levi’s yellow eyes were blazing with anger.
“If you ever want to drop a name,” he said, “I’ll take care of it. No one has to know.”
“It’s already taken care of.”
Levi nodded. “I thought so. You know, shit makes sense now. Did you become a ladies’ man to prove you aren’t gay? Just so you know, you’re not.”
“I think I know that by now,” Simon scoffed.
“Do you? Because when something like that happens, it makes you doubt everything about yourself. I’ve talked with a lot of women about it, even helped a few find justice. Guys… we don’t talk about that kind of shit. But when I used to work in the jail, sometimes the prisoners wanted to talk. They’d open up and tell their dark secrets, and I get why people are steered onto the wrong path in life.”
“You watch too many daytime soaps,” Simon grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe I do.” His gaze traveled to Simon’s neck. “One more spot and that should fix you up until Justus gets here.”
Simon didn’t know how to process feeling so damn vulnerable; he only knew that he wanted to channel it into something vicious and unleash it all over Boris.
Levi wiped his mouth. “Accepting a kind touch from me doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean you like it; doesn’t mean you deserved whatever hell someone put you through. Don’t judge one man by another man’s actions. I won’t bring this up around anyone, and if it makes you feel better, I’ll have a Vamp scrub my memory of it. Just know that if you do that, I might start flirting with you again.”
Simon sniffed out a quiet laugh. “Like you won’t anyhow?”
Levi shook his head. “Not if it means putting you through emotional torment. I like to mess around, and flirting’s my thing. I figured if I couldn’t win you over as a friend, I could at least make it fun to avoid me.”
Simon wasn’t sure how he felt about having a Vamp scrub Levi’s memories. He didn’t trust Vampires and therefore couldn’t make such a request.
Bloody hell, he thought. Since when did I grow a conscience?
Levi hovered over him, their bare chests touching. He slowly moved his mouth down the right side of Simon’s neck, and Simon turned his head in the opposite direction. With one magnificent stroke, Levi ran his tongue from his shoulder to behind his ear. Simon shivered, fear mingling with relief as the skin numbed and the bleeding ceased.
“I can’t heal that puncture wound in your shoulder,” he whispered against Simon’s neck.
While everything about Levi’s behavior felt sexual, Simon realized what was going on. This wasn’t about sex; it was about trust. Maybe Simon had judged him too harshly.
It still didn’t erase the fact he had a large Chitah—thick with muscle and brawn—lying half-naked on top of him, licking his neck. His canines had descended, and Simon felt a sharp tooth graze his tender flesh. Levi was showing him trust the best way a Chitah knew how, like any predator would.
Levi’s chest thrummed as he began to purr, a sound Simon had never particularly wanted to hear up close. This felt far too intimate, and yet Levi’s energy was vibrant, healing, an
d unexpectedly peaceful.
A throat cleared from behind. “Am I interrupting something?”
Levi sat back, and instead of smiling like the cat that ate the canary, he held an unreadable expression. “I sealed up the wounds that were bleeding the most. You got here quicker than I thought.”
“I wasn’t far when you called,” Justus said.
Simon wanted to say never mind, but he found his mouth had gone numb along with his limbs. Justus’s energy crackled against him—an inviting source of nourishment he needed but would prefer not to take. A real man didn’t ask for help, and he was certain this was going to be the axe that divided their friendship for good.
Justus knelt beside Simon, flattening his palm against his. “You know, old friend, sometimes you ask me for the wrong favors. Did you think I wouldn’t come if you called me?”
Simon groaned when the healing light poured into him, first through his hands and then spreading throughout his body like a warm rush of life. The flesh where the knife had sliced through mended first, followed by the familiar tingling of wounds sealing up and internal injuries stitching together.
“You hate me borrowing your tools,” Simon began, his voice growing stronger. “How many times have you told me to go fetch my own?”
“A wrench is one thing; your life is another.”
Simon thumped his head against the ground and stared up at the stars. “And now I am in both your debts.”
Justus chuckled. “Perhaps I will only request from you a night of babysitting so I can take my woman on a proper date.”
Simon didn’t know if Justus was kidding or not, but he wasn’t going to argue the offer. That would be the easiest debt ever paid, although there would probably be a catch—like polishing the floors on every level of Justus’s building.
With a newfound energy coursing through him, he shifted his focus to what needed to be done: Simon had a bonding ceremony to stop.
Chapter 22
It had been thirty minutes since Hannah and Ella arrived at Boris’s house. The size of his home showed off his wealth, but it wasn’t evident from the hideous décor. He lived in a four-story building nestled in a prestigious part of the city. It was an inspiration for horror movies with its grey exterior and gargoyles perched on the corners of the roof. Boris was a hunter, obvious by the trophy heads displayed on the walls throughout his home. There weren’t as many animals with antlers as there were predators—lions and bears with their jaws open and fangs polished.