by Renee Rose
Is Nash a werewolf?
Is Charlie’s father?
How did Jared Johnson know? As far as Charlie knows, his own eyes never change color. He never sprouts a tail and howls at the moon.
His father used to show up for a couple days every month, always at night, like seeing them was a big secret. Christ, had it been with the moon?
He gives his head a hard shake. None of this makes sense.
11
Denali
I jerk awake at Nash’s cry. He thrashes beside me like he’s being electrocuted. In the few weeks since he moved in, I’ve noticed he twitches with flashbacks or bad dreams at night, but this time is severe. The last time I saw his body jump and convulse like when we were in our cell, as the guards took me away.
“Nash,” I breathe, then speak louder. “Nash. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
A scent hits me—cleaning fluid they used to scour the cinder-block walls, washing away the blood. Shifter blood.
“No,” I whisper, chills running up and down my arms. This isn’t a nightmare. Nash is back in that place, trapped in the memory.
Am I really smelling that place? How? It’s like Nash’s flashback seeps into me, too. Must be some kind of mate ability.
I shake Nash’s bulging biceps, but I speak to the flashback. “No. You can’t have him. He’s mine.”
With a choked sound, Nash’s eyes fly open. “Denali?”
I throw my arms around him. “It’s all right. I’m here. Come back to me, baby.”
“Denali,” he rasps, his hands running over my body. “Denali.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, holding him close. His huge body shakes and rage surges through me. I wish some of the people from Data-X survived the explosion so I can kill them all over again.
A sound breaks from his throat, not a whimper or sob, but something torn from his body. I hold him tighter. “I’m here, baby. It’s me. Your mate. I’m not going to let you go.”
“Let her go,” he growls, eyes jerking beneath parted lids. He grabs my shoulders roughly and pushes me away. “No,” he mumbles. “No. Don’t touch her.”
“What—”
“No!” Nash roars. He’s still in the flashback. His arms fly wide and he catches my face with the back of his hand. I fly off the bed and hit the floor.
A warning snarl comes from my throat, my lioness clawing to the surface to fight, even though Nash isn’t the enemy.
“Denali!” Nash bolts out of the bed and stares down at me. His eyes are focused now, hyper alert, and I watch as understanding dawns and horror swims over his face. The light from the little nightlight in the outlet backlights him, making him seem even larger and more dangerous, his clenched fists ready to pummel the enemy.
Except the enemy isn’t here.
“Nash?” I stand, rubbing my throbbing cheekbone and approach him carefully, scenting the air. The antiseptic smell of the Data-X prison lab is gone, washed away in the clean night time breeze. “Are you with me?”
“Fuck.” It’s broken syllable. He falls to his knees. “Denali. Please say I didn’t hit you.”
I roll my lips together, trying to think of what to say.
He drops his head into his hands. “Oh God. I’m so fucking sorry. This is unforgivable. Unforgivable.”
“You were having a flashback,” I say. “What was it? Was it about me?”
He lifts his face and beams a haunted gaze at me. “They were going to rape you. I had to stop them. Instead I hurt you.” His voice breaks.
I sense the static from his lion that I’d felt when he first showed up. The buzzing of a ticking time bomb. An animal about to go berserk.
“I’m okay, Nash. I’m a shifter. I’ll heal soon.” I want more than anything for him to pull me into his arms, or let me hold him, but he doesn’t seem to want to touch me.
He gets up and stumbles back, toward the bedroom door. On the way, he shakes his head and grunts something.
A cold prickle of warning runs through me.
“What?” I make my way to his side until he repeats, “I can’t do this.”
I halt, dread rising in my throat. “Can’t do what?”
“Be here. Be with you and Nolan. I’m too dangerous.”
“You can’t just leave. Your lion—”
“I’ll live. Or I won’t. Either way, it’s not your problem anymore.”
The bedclothes have fallen to the floor. I pick up the sheet and grip it hard. “It is my problem.” I can’t keep my voice level anymore. “It became my problem when you mate-marked me. When you put a cub in me.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he snarls. Before I know it he’s in my face, teeth white and snapping close. “You think I don’t live with the guilt of that every day? It’s killing me, Denali.” His hands grip my arms, shaking me. “But I can live with it. What I can’t live with is knowing my lion hurt you.” His grip loosens. “What if he hurts Nolan? I need to separate myself from you two, as much as it kills me.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” My throbbing face and arms bely my conviction.
“I just did.”
“You didn’t mean to—you were in a flashback.”
“I know. But I’m always in flashbacks. I don’t know what I’m capable of. I walked into that lab a man and a shifter. I became... something else. They made me something else.”
“You can get help,” I say shakily. “You can try—”
“I am trying, goddammit. This,” he indicates the spoiled bed, “was me trying. It’s not going to work.”
I swallow back the grief rising. Pressure builds behind my face, burns my eyes. Is he really walking out on us? “What do I tell Nolan, when he wakes up and you’re not here?” If my voice sounds wobbly, it’s for Nolan, not me.
“I don’t know.” Nash bows his head. He doesn’t turn around. “Tell him... his father is dead.”
Nausea rocks through me, thick and heavy.
“Then go.” Pain makes my voice harsh. “Leave us. It’s not like we weren’t fine before. You’re the one who chose to show up. I knew I shouldn’t have let you in.”
Nash shakes his head. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” He turns and walks out.
My bludgeoned heart falls to the floor where he stood a moment before.
12
Nash
Cold light. Grey light. I lie on the floor. My body tingles with agony. The last time they took me out of here, I lost consciousness after the first pain test. I don’t know how long they worked me over, but I did nothing to resist. They threw me back in here and I haven’t moved, not even when they shoved food inside. That could’ve been a day, or a week ago. The food smells wrong, as if it’s started to turn.
Denali is gone. I couldn’t protect her. As far as I’m concerned, I deserve to rot.
The door opens and the air wafts over me, heavy with the scent of antiseptic cleansers.
“This is your prize, your King of the Beasts? He does not look long for the world.” A voice with a thick accent, a scent of a wolf I don’t recognize.
“The experiments have taken their toll.” This voice I know. Smyth. The doctor in charge of the program. “But he still is a strong specimen. Former special ops. His lion emerged when he engaged in human battle. He was separated, pinned down, and his lion took over. Took twenty bullets. Slew every one of the enemy. A natural born killer.”
“But now,” the accented voice tinges with disdain. “He is quite pathetic.”
“He formed an attachment with one of the breeders. A lioness. We think he mate marked her.”
“Really? Where is she?”
“She escaped, sir. Some laziness with the guards. They had her uncuffed and she killed one, maimed the other. We tried to track her, but she’s highly intelligent, and very determined. Took to the sewers—the trail disappeared.”
“I wonder... if you found her, and returned her to him, would he revive?” The door closes, the voices muffled.
No.
I roll, sti
fling a groan, and drag myself to the food tray. I dip my fingers in the slop and eat. The gruel is tasteless, the meat almost spoiled, but I force it down. By the time I’m done, my body is on fire. The food does its work—giving my system what it needs to regenerate. I’ll heal and co-operate and pretend I’m fine. If they ask me about the mate mark, I’ll say it was an act of violence. That it meant nothing. I’ll lie and do whatever ever they want me to do. Submit. Obey. Even if it drives my lion mad.
I have to live... if not for my sake, then for Denali’s.
Denali
Three days living like a zombie. I don’t even know how I go through the motions with my clients, with Nolan. I broke down crying when Nolan asked where Nash had gone. My little boy wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed, doing his best to offer me comfort.
“Don’t cry, momma. He’ll be back.”
I shook my head. “No. He won’t, Nolan. I’m sorry, baby, but he’s not well enough to be with us. His lion is sick.”
With the perceptiveness of a child, he corrected me. “No, momma. His lion is only sick when he’s away from us.”
I’d cried even harder then but threw myself into the shower to get it together.
Now, the two of us are hanging out in the backyard. He’s playing with a dump truck. I’m staring at the same stain on the patio. I force myself to get up and turn on the hose to water the trees.
Fates, this pain in my chest. This heaviness.
I wish Nash had never come. I wish he hadn’t made me fall in love again. To start to believe I could have that perfect life I dreamed of.
I understand he isn’t well. I know he’s afraid he might hurt me the way his father attacked his mom. But even so, I will never, ever forgive him for inserting himself into my life and then walking away.
Agent Dune
Nash left the cottage up in Temecula, but some gut instinct has Charlie still watching it. There’s a child there, and he looks like Nash. Charlie can’t find much on the mother, Denali, except that she disappeared from New Orleans four years ago and then resurfaced with the child, Nolan, only recently in California.
Charlie hides his car a mile away and hikes up around the hillside toward the back of the cottage. From the distance, he can see the child playing in the fenced backyard. Denali’s out with him, watering with a hose. An unmarked white van pulls up in front of the cottage. Something about it strikes him as odd.
Denali says something to the boy and goes inside. The boy’s head jerks up and then he falls to the ground, limp as a rag doll. A man vaults over the fence and drops right in front of him. He picks the boy up and tosses him over the fence, where another man catches him and runs to the van. The entire operation takes all of thirty seconds.
Charlie sprints down the hillside, his instinct to protect the innocent stronger than the need to gather intel, but it’s too late. Both men are in the van and it’s driving off.
He falls to his belly on the ground and yanks out his camera, snapping pictures of the van and the license plate as it peels around the corner and disappears.
Fuck.
His vehicle is way too far away to give chase. He turns and slips back up the hill.
In his career as a special ops agent he’s seen and heard many terrible things. He’s killed for his country. Committed and covered up crimes for his country. But nothing’s made him as sick as hearing Denali’s anguished screams echo up the mountainside when she realizes her son is missing.
Nash
“Alpha? Alpha?”
“Not your alpha,” I mumble, groping for my glass. My fingers hit a bottle and I lift that instead, gulping down the cool fire like it’s water.
“Jay-sus,” Declan breathes. He, Laurie and Parker lean over me. “Ya smell like a turpentine factory. What is that shite?”
I blink, pushing up from the bar to look groggily around the empty upper room at The Pit. I must’ve driven straight here after Denali kicked me out. I drank all night and most of the morning to forget. Even now my lion is charged up, burning the alcohol out of my system, demanding I go back and claim what’s rightfully mine.
Except I don’t deserve Denali. I don’t deserve a family, much less a mate.
“Steady,” Laurie murmurs, slipping behind me.
“‘S good. I’m fine.”
“Your eyes are red. Like, glowing. I’ve never seen this before.”
“Lion,” I rasp through cracked lips. “Wants out.”
“Get him some water. And steak. Raw,” Parker orders and turns back to me. “Fuck, Nash. What’d you do? Where’s Denali?”
“Left her. Can’t be with her. Can’t be her mate.”
“What about Nolan?”
I shake my head. “I’m too fucked up to raise a kid.”
“You don’t know that’s true,” Parker contradicts softly. He leans on the bar next to me. “So you’re just going to stay away?”
I shrug. My lion won’t let me. He’ll fight to go back and drive me mad. I should chain myself up now.
“Should’ve stayed in the cell,” I shiver, suddenly chilled. “Should’ve left me there to rot.”
“Hang on, boss,” Parker murmurs. “We’ll figure a way out of this.” He goes behind the bar and hands me a two-liter bottle of water. I drink the whole thing, but when Declan and Laurie return and set a plate of steaks near me, I shake my head.
“You gotta stay strong. At least long enough for us to figure out how what to do when your lion takes over.”
“Call Sam. His mate will know what to do.” She worked at Data-X, she can cook up something deadly. Barring that, Sam can rig explosives and blow me to bits.
“All right. We’ll make a plan.” Parker pushes the plate close, and the smell of meat convinces me faster than anyone could. By the time I demolish the plate, I feel a little better. Maybe I can get Layne to dose me with something to make me forget. A few wolf packs use vampires to wipe the minds of anyone who threatens the pack. Supposedly it doesn’t work on shifters, but maybe it’ll be enough to forget how close I came to paradise.
Just the thought has me reaching for the bottle again.
Denali. A cracking sound and I open my hand to let the broken glass fall. Absently I pick a few shards out of my palm before my skin heals over them.
Parker takes a deep breath. “Boss—”
My phone rings and he falls silent as I reach for it. I stare at the name on the screen. I shouldn’t answer. Leaving her gutted me. Talking to her now will ensure I never breathe again.
Except I’m so humbled she’s even willing to dial my number after what I did to her and Nolan, my thumb swipes across the screen.
“Nash?” The terror in Denali’s voice jerks me to my feet.
“Denali.”
Her sobs fill the line, breaking my heart.
“What—”
“They took him. Nolan. They came and took him.”
Red fills my vision and I fight it. Not now!
“Who?” Parker and the rest huddle around me.
“Men in black. White van. I was in the back and didn’t—” She’s crying too hard to speak.
“Hang on, Denali, we’re on our way,” Parker says. His voice is muffled, as if coming to my ears through glass. My vision narrows, and I stay very still, trying to keep control.
“Give me the phone,” Laurie says, and pries it from my nerveless fingers. “Denali? Can you hear me? Do you think you’re safe there? Is there somewhere you can go?” His murmur follows me as I stride to the Camaro. Parker and Declan reach there before me. We’re squealing away before the doors close, before I even have time to breathe.
“Who could’ve done this? Who do you think it is?” Parker asks.
“Call Sam.” Declan’s hands white knuckle the steering wheel. The Camaro accelerates into a turn. “He can find out.”
“Denali’s unhurt,” Laurie says. “I have her meeting us.” He leans forward to give directions to Declan.
“Don’t worry, Nash,” Parker
says. “I’m calling back up.”
I barely hear him over the roaring in my ears. Rage fills me like nothing I’ve felt before, lava driven through my veins with the force of a hurricane. A second later, Laurie presses my phone into my hand. “Alpha, they want to hear from you.”
“Nash?” Sam’s voice comes over the line. “I’ve got Layne here, and Jackson and Kylie. What’s going on? Is it Denali?”
The lava turns to ice.
“My son,” I growl. “They took my son!”
13
Nash
“I just went in to snag my phone—it was ringing. They grabbed him while I was inside and by the time I got out it was too late.” Other than a raspy voice and tear-swollen eyes, Denali appears calm and composed as she relates the story for the umpteenth time. We’re huddled in one of Sam’s safehouses. He and his mate Layne flew up as soon as they heard the news, and more of their pack and friends are on standby, waiting for orders. Parker and Declan keep checking their phones and leaving to make more calls.
“Any idea who these guys were?” Sam asks.
“I know who.” My lion’s been trying to tell me for days now. That’s why the flashbacks intensified. “There was another with Smyth. A business partner with a Spanish accent.” If I close my eyes I can hear the rich cultured tones rolling over me. I can see the polished black dress shoes and tip of the cane.
“Santiago,” Sam says grimly. “We got everyone last time, except that son-of-a-bitch.”
“Who’s Santiago?” Denali asks.
“He was the money,” Sam announces. “Smyth had the vision. Santiago bankrolled the project.”
“We had the genes,” I add. “A decorated soldier and a strong lioness.” I rub my face and dare a glance at Denali. Right now, she’s trying to stay strong.
“Santiago won’t hurt him,” Sam says. “He’s obsessed with creating clean shifter lines. He thinks Nolan is the start of that.”