“I will tell you all about it—all you need to know. Of course, you’re going to have to release me first and promise you wouldn’t—”
Dylan was on him in an instant. Before he could even consider it or think about it as he usually did, his hand shot out and grabbed the other by the throat. He did not hold back, choking his brother until the man was gray in the face and clawing at the cell bars desperately.
“You will tell me everything,” Dylan said. It wasn’t a request. “And you will hold nothing back.”
Silence, except for the choking noises. Dylan squeezed harder until Lance’s eyes bulged out and his body thrashed. He nodded his head, and Dylan lifted him up and away from the ground.
Then Dylan threw him to the corner of the cell, where he hit the stone with a loud bang.
Lance wheezed for breath, noisily gulping in air. He looked at Dylan with fear in his eyes and began to spill out everything until Dylan’s own throat was coated in horror, though he didn’t show it.
When Lance was done, Dylan turned back around and walked away from the cell and up towards the stairs leading to the dungeon’s exit. A clanging sound followed him, along with Lance’s voice.
“You’re going to leave me here? I’m your brother!”
Dylan ignored him.
Lance kept screaming. “I’m your brother!”
No, he wasn’t.
From this point forward, Dylan no longer had a brother.
*****
The leaders were opposed to Dylan going back to Brazil to take care of matters himself, saying that they had men for that and his role was here. Mostly, they were concerned about his safety, because his death would cause an uproar not just in the shifter community, but in their fragile alliances with other supernatural beings as well.
But he wasn’t having it. He discussed the terms and countered every argument, using ruthless logic until everyone was basically shocked speechless at his tenacity in the matter.
When he asked a final time if there were any protests to his decision, no one contradicted. Satisfied with the results, he adjourned the meeting and walked off towards his office, where he had two people waiting.
Simon and Robin trailed off from their soft conversation when he opened the door and stood up. He indicated for them to sit back down and stood in front of his desk, placing his palms on the wood and leaning forward.
“I need to go back to Brazil and meet with the panther clan leader again. Are you guys up for it?”
“What are we doing there?” Simon asked.
They both listened in silence—then, outrage—as he told them what he knew. Simon’s eyes flared and Robin’s expression closed off, though there were too many emotions swimming under it.
“I’m going,” Simon replied the moment Dylan finished.
“Me, too,” Robin piped up firmly.
“Are we the only ones going?” Simon asked.
Dylan shook his head. “Henrik is checking with Charlie to see if he’s available. We might need a dragon scout in the sky for this mission.”
If Isaac allowed it. But Isaac owed him a favor at this point, so he was going to cash in on it.
They prepared. Three hours later, they met up at the portal point with Charlie Takeshi, who was briefed of the situation.
Then they were off. They had no means to communicate with the panther clan technology, because that place had none—Isaac liked keeping things natural. Dylan hoped Isabella would be there, and would be the first face he saw. Just a glimpse would be enough—for now.
And he hoped to hell they weren’t too late for those children.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Meeting Dylan again under circumstances like this was the last thing she expected, but Isabella forced herself not to dwell on it and tried to act as professional as possible. She should have known he wouldn’t make just a visit and would have a purpose.
Unfortunately, nothing prepared her for the grave news he announced, right before asking Isaac for assistance.
To her brother’s credit, he gave it right away. They set sail immediately after Dylan gave out the coordinates—two ships with Dylan and a high-ranking panther shifter in the first and Isabella and the teenagers in the second, going in the direction of the nearest known location. Three more ships followed. She could tell Simon and Robin were preoccupied and worried, but they didn’t discuss it with her, nor did she pry. She simply asked them how they were and what they were up to lately that didn’t involve mission secrets to ease them up, and soon the two responded and their conversation flowed as easily as water.
At one point, Simon shifted to his wolf form, showing off glorious brown fur and a strong physique. The difference of the wolves from the panthers fascinated her since she saw Dylan in his wolf form, and she watched Simon’s every move now as he surveyed the perimeter and seemed to pause every once in a while, as if listening to someone. Probably Dylan. She’d heard of rumors of their mind reading, something the panther clan never really practiced. Isabella turned to ask Robin about it, but the witch could only shrug, admitting she did not know much about the shifter community beyond the basics.
“I’m mostly on this mission as a test. I’m being lent to the shifters for a year or two. I’m Red Denver’s apprentice.”
Isabella perked up at the name. “The Red Denver?”
She knew of the witch, of course—at least, she knew of stories. Red Denver had been one of the most wanted witches in the world for killing a shifter clan leader, and had been on the run for years. But it turned out she was innocent and the real culprit was her mother, and there was some battle involving Dylan’s community and the witches the mother led to fight them. The shifters, with the help of some good witches and vampires, won in the end. After that, Red had been pardoned, and had even mated with a dragon clan leader in the process.
“Yes, the one and only,” Robin replied with a hint of pride in her voice. “This is my fifth official mission and my first with the shifters.”
That was another different thing between the shifter community in New York and the panther clan. Isabella could never figure out how Dylan managed to trust the vampires and the witches enough to form an actual alliance with them. She doubted Isaac would even consider it. But then again, her brother’s policies made sense, because it kept their little world here in Brazil safe from outsiders and possible betrayers.
Except Jason’s shocking betrayal. But that was another thing altogether.
A twinge entered her heart at the thought, and she shook it off. “How’s your first mission with the shifters so far?”
“I’ll probably see worse,” Robin stated with the wisdom of someone who hadn’t seen worse yet. “I’m positive I can handle it.”
Isabella hoped she would, because there were things far worse when one delved deeper in the supernatural world.
Speaking of dragons…Isabella looked up and watched the shadow fly overhead. Their additional member, Charlie, was half Japanese and had the most beautiful smoke-colored dragon form she’d ever seen. But then again, he was the first dragon she’d seen, and she supposed the others were just as beautiful as him.
Simon came back to stand in human form beside them, clothed now with his hair sticking out in all directions.
“Did you know wolves can beat dragons with a hit in the proper pressure points?” he asked. Isabella smiled, amused. Simon had a habit of spouting off random information from time to time, giving them a glimpse of the geek underneath the warrior.
“Well, don’t let him hear you,” Robin muttered. “Or he’ll pummel you to the ground.”
Isabella laughed.
It was the last laugh she was going to have in the next few days.
*****
They docked on the first uncharted island armed to the core, since they predicted they wouldn’t be able to shift or use magic here, too. That prediction was right. But contrary to their belief that they would be met with hundreds of enemies, only a few guards and pirates were actu
ally left on the island, and were easily subdued. Apparently, Henley’s death and the destruction of the first island led everyone to flee and never come back.
But the prisoners were still there.
Dylan ordered some of Isaac’s men to search the premises for more enemies, while he led the way towards the main buildings in search of the prisons. Isabella followed suit, and they entered the first building, breaking the lock and adjusting their eyes to the darkness within.
The sight that greeted Isabella had her stomach dropping.
There were children inside—very young ones, all in cages and not beyond the age of possibly ten. Most of them were healthy, but there were a few that were already lying unconscious on the ground.
She went ahead and opened the first cage, putting her fingers on the wrist of the first unconscious figure.
Dead.
And the next, and the next. All dead.
Grief settled in her heart, dark and deep. She watched Dylan enter another cage, one filled with moving children, and he knelt in front of the first one. His fingers gently touched the little girl’s forehead, brushing her dirty bangs away.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
The child hesitated before responding. “I want my mommy.”
Dylan’s brown eyes softened. “We’ll find your mother. And if we can’t, we’ll find you a home. That’s a promise.”
The child nodded solemnly.
Isabella realized there were already tears in her eyes. She wiped them away before anyone could see.
They still had more children to find.
*****
There were more slaves dead on the third island, and more alive on the fourth. By the time they were done with the fifth island, they had filled up all five ships with all the children they could find, most of who were sick and needed attention right away. Robin worked on overtime with the healers they brought with them, and Isabella helped out with the few basics she knew.
Dylan stayed on their ship, which held all the injured ones to keep them isolated. He worked with the healers, surprising Isabella with his knowledge in more than the basics as he asked about the children’s individual conditions and talked to those in pain to distract them while Robin numbed them out. Ten hours of non-stop healing later, the teenage witch was finally no longer able to heal any more as she swayed on her feet.
Simon was there, catching her just as she stumbled back and her eyes closed. He lifted her easily and murmured soothing words in her ear, catching Dylan’s eye and requesting to bring Robin to her designated room.
“Of course,” Dylan said. “Stay with her. Report to me if her body acts up or she gets convulsions.”
When they were gone, Isabella threw Dylan a puzzled glance. “Convulsions?”
“Young witches who overuse their magic often get them. Some die from it.”
Anger flared inside her. “You didn’t stop her from using too much, then?”
The look Dylan sent her had her anger dying. “I don’t control what they do or how much they’d like to help. Robin’s stubborn—she’d have snuck in to heal them, anyway, even if I told her not to.”
He was right. Isabella glanced down and frowned. She felt fingers on her chin lifting her face up. Reluctantly, she let those fingers guide her until her gaze met his.
“I know why you’re irrationally angry at me.”
“Why?” she asked testily.
Brown eyes gleamed. “Because you feel this attraction between us as much as I do, and you’re having a hard time fighting it. You’re taking the tension out and turning it into anger, and trust me—it’s not going to do you any good in the end.”
Of all the arrogant, overconfident things to say—
“Why not?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
His thumb rubbed her cheek once, a singular movement that had fire bursting in her skin.
“Because I’m going to court you—for real this time. And I’m going to seduce you until you can no longer take it…and you will come to me. It’s inevitable, Isabella. What’s between us is too powerful to ignore.”
Then the thumb was gone, and so were his fingers. Dylan stepped back, nodded almost politely but for the heat that flashed in his eyes that sparked an answering heat in her.
Then he turned around, and he was walking away.
Isabella touched her warm cheek and tried to still her too-fast beating heart.
He was right.
He was right, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
He bided his time. Dylan knew that the horrific things they discovered in the five remaining islands still haunted her, especially with the knowledge that it was her younger brother who had made all that come to fruit and would have continued doing so had he not been discovered. He could see the same haunting look in Isaac, a man who hid compassion well behind a cold and ruthless attitude. The cold and ruthless attitude was not a façade, but it wasn’t the only facet in the panther clan leader, and Dylan had to wonder what else was hidden under all that composure.
It was a shame he didn’t get to meet the man under different circumstances, because Dylan had a feeling he would end up liking the fellow more. As it was, whatever camaraderie they had—if one could call it that—was fragile, and he wasn’t banking on it to grow warmer.
Especially not with the things he wanted to do with the man’s sister.
Once they got back to shore and all the children were put under an indefinite recovery period, Isabella grew scarce. She didn’t exactly avoid him, but she didn’t seek him out, either. So he adjusted, talking to her during dinner with Isaac, discussing with her when it came to the children and how they were going to be housed once they were healthy enough to leave. He watched her deal with them with kindness, watched her assassin instincts take a backseat as she cajoled them out of their shells and tried to get them comfortable in their now-temporary home.
And he wanted.
He wanted, like he’d never wanted anyone before in his life. It was verging on painful, testing his patience to the brink and fraying it at the edges. A day before he was scheduled to leave and return to his home, Dylan couldn’t take it anymore. He waited, being his usual pleasant self at dinner. Then, when Isabella excused herself, he found a way to leave a few minutes later, too, and trailed after her until he got to her door, where he was reminded of exactly how close to each other they had been inside that very room.
She didn’t answer on the first knock, or the second, or the third. He couldn’t hear anyone inside her room, and frustration welled up in him that maybe she didn’t come here because she knew he was going to. He stepped back and shook his head, walking towards his room, his thoughts jumbled and wanted to know where she was.
So he could go to her.
He had a feeling he was going to want to go to her all the time now, and the knowledge was thrilling and nerve-wrecking at the same time.
Dylan opened the door to his room.
He stopped.
He stared at Isabella, who had stopped pacing at his entrance and now looked at him with nerves in her eyes masked by cool confidence.
“This attraction between us,” she began without preamble. “It’s not going to go anywhere.”
“Oh?” he replied, closing the door with a quiet click. He didn’t take a step forward, not wanting to scare her.
She nodded, dark brown hair falling to her face. His hand itched to touch it and brush it away.
“We both know it. We both want to act on it and you know what’s going to happen? We’re going to get burned. It would be better if we don’t.”
It took only half of her speech for him to realize what she was trying to do. She was trying to convince herself, not him. The knowledge enlightened him, and he let her go on.
“Are you sure about this?”
Isabella nodded. “Yes. So I came to say goodbye.” Then she made a move to leave, walking towards the door without looking
him in the eye.
Oh, no, she wasn’t.
His hand shot out as she brushed past him, her hand on the doorknob. Tingles spread. He waited until her gaze finally met his, turning his body in her direction.
“You know what I think?” he asked.
She stilled. “What?”
“I think if I kiss you right now, you wouldn’t say no.”
Something flickered in her blue eyes, darkening them. He took the risk, even if she hadn’t answered yet, as her lips parted out of their own accord. His thumb settled on her neck, where he felt her pulse—strong, and beating too fast.
His nose grazed her jaw, taking her scent in—intoxicating himself with it. Her breath hitched.
“This is a very bad idea,” she whispered as his mouth skimmed her chin this time, then placed a feather light kiss at the corner of her mouth. “A very bad—”
“Idea,” he murmured, right before he closed his lips over hers.
Her mouth opened. Isabella welcomed him by kissing him back, with none of the hesitation of her words and all of the surety of her body. He reveled in her response as he slid his tongue in and tasted her—the taste that he tried to forget in New York, but had haunted his dreams all the same. It was the same, but so much more, and he let himself sip like she was fine wine, and too much would make him drunk. But he was already drunk as her palms settled on his chest, as a soft sigh came from her throat and made desire rush in his system.
And then he couldn’t have a sip anymore, because he’d been waiting too long and he was tired of waiting.
Dylan carried her to bed, kissing her the whole way. He undressed her like she was a present, eager and anticipatory. She undressed him just as eagerly, and soon their clothes were gone and their bodies were pressed against each other, the heat singeing them both and spreading the fire higher. His hands never stopped moving, memorizing her curves, and his mouth stopped teasing her mouth as it teased other parts of her instead. He tasted every inch of her olive skin until her taste consumed him, latching on her nipple and sucking softly. Still, it wasn’t enough, and so he let his tongue trail further down until it reached her stomach—then, the throbbing core where his fingers were teasing her, wet and slick for him.
Mate Hunt: An Alpha Werewolf Romance Page 9