by Romi Hart
Finn
Anarock Shifters, Book 4
Romi Hart
Copyright © 2020 by Romi Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Also by Romi Hart
Anarock Shifters Series
Victor
Bryce
Elliot
Finn
Malachai
Devil’s Flame MC Series
Rafe
Zeke
Eli
Harrison
Corey
BOX SETS
Stamina
Out of Bounds
Playing to Win
Untamed Billionaires
Dangerous
Untamed Billionaires Series
The Billionaire Bull
The Billionaire Bold
The Billionaire Brute
Playing to Win Series
One Kiss to Win
One Chance to Win
One Cheer to Win
Out of Bounds Series
Temptation
Addiction
Passion
Dangerous Series
Dangerous Play
Dirty Play
Daring Play
Stand Alone Books
Sinner
Big Slide
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Malachai (Anarock Shifters, Book 5) - Special Preview
Author’s Note
About the Author
Also by Romi Hart
1
Colonel Horace Weeks jabbed his finger in his son Elliot’s face. He bellowed so loudly he spat through his bared teeth. “You don’t speak about your own people like that, boy. You don’t open your mouth in this department without a respectful tone in your voice. Do you hear me? I won’t stand for it.”
Elliot shifted his weight to his other foot, but he stood his ground. “What’s the point of me being here if I don’t offer any input? Expressing my opinion on the way things get done doesn’t constitute disrespect.”
“No, your tone constitutes disrespect,” the Colonel fired back at an even higher volume if that was possible. “You think you can just waltz in here and start firing off opinions when the rest of us have held the Prometheus Crest together for the last twenty years? You got some balls on you, boy. You can sweet talk the rest of the world, but you won’t ever be able to put one over on me. You keep your opinions to yourself until you’re spoken to. Then you can offer any precious fucking opinion you like. Until then, you’re nothing. You hear me? You’re less than nothing. You’re the enemy as far as I’m concerned until you prove otherwise.”
Elliot braced himself and clenched his fists, but he didn’t lose his composure and that was saying something after the dressing-down Colonel Weeks gave him. “That’s what I’m here for, Sir. I can’t exactly prove myself if no one gives me a chance.”
Colonel Weeks straightened up tall and terrible. He towered over Elliot boiling with dangerous tension. His one black eye flashed in his half a head and his lips quivered with rage. “You don’t tell me to give you a chance. Not you. You don’t walk into my department and start telling me I have to give you a chance. You don’t come in here at all. You’re not welcome here. Is that clear?”
Elliot shot a quick glance to his right. Victor Griffin hovered off to one side listening to the whole ugly confrontation, but he didn’t intervene. He observed the two men from a long way off.
Elliot came back to gazing at his father, but he still didn’t retreat. “I’m here and I won’t leave. I made it clear where my loyalties lie and I want to be a part of this Crest. I’ll do my best for you, but I can’t do that if you don’t at least put your prejudices aside and let me participate. Let me help you. I can give you information you can’t get from anyone else. Okay, so I made some mistakes in the past but that’s over and done with now.”
“It isn’t over and done with to me,” Colonel Weeks rasped. “It isn’t over and done with by a country mile. It’s alive and well and I don’t trust you not to do the same thing all over again.”
“If you don’t want me around here, why don’t you assign me to track the Omega Battalion?” Elliot asked. “I want to find Alexa as much as anybody. At least then I would be out of your hair.”
Victor cut in at long last. “We’re not tracking the Omega Battalion anymore. We already know they aren’t here so we can’t divert any more resources to finding them. If they ever show their faces in Louisiana again, we’ll know about it and we can deal with them then. As long as they stay on their side of the portal, they don’t pose any threat to us.”
“What about what Aria and I saw in the Halcyon Coast?” Elliot argued. “What about Bryce and Alexa planning to invade us again? Shouldn’t we do something about that?”
Colonel Weeks snarled low. “You traitorous fucking piece of stinking filth! Don’t you dare question his orders—not in front of me, not ever! I swear to holy Christ I’ll cut your motherfucking nuts off for this!”
Victor held up his hand and Colonel Weeks bit off his words in a heartbeat, but Victor didn’t look at the Colonel. He kept his unflinching gaze locked on Elliot. “I made my decision. Right now, I have another job for you. I want you to coordinate the survivors of Lucas Slaughter’s camp. I want you and Aria to go up-country and take an inventory of who’s left alive, where they’re living, and what they need in the way of supplies or support. We can’t have a bunch of New Breed wandering around homeless in the damned Quag. Take Aria and any other Slaughters who want to help their relatives.”
“But, Sir….” Elliot began.
“Stuff it, maggot!” Colonel Weeks thundered. “Bury your useless, stinking face in the ground before I bury it for you!”
Elliot trembled holding back emotion. His cheeks and jaw rippled clenching his teeth. His eyes flickered back and forth between Victor and the Colonel, but he succeeded in preventing himself from saying anything else.
He glared at the two men in wordless fury. Colonel Weeks jerked in all directions stifling volcanic rage. His features contorted every time he looked at his son.
Victor threw back his shoulders and cocked his head. “You heard me, Elliot. You can check with Patricio for any equipment or supplies you need for the trip north. Touch base with me before you leave.”
His crystal clear eyes bored into Elliot without blinking. The harsh cut of his voice and the short, quick clip of his words left no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was giving Elliot no choice but to obey.
Elliot shuffled his feet one more time. Then he set his mouth in a thin, tight line, dipped a brief nod, and spun away. He stormed out of the Ogru-Kuche war room. He slammed both his palms flat against the double doors and smashed them open with a deafening clang.
The doors bounced back at him so he had to hit them again breaking onto the stairs outside. He forced them so hard into the sidewalls that they banged shut as soon as he barged through
them.
A tense silence fell over the war room. No one whispered or rifled papers the way they usually did. Not a breath disturbed the weighty silence. After what seemed like ages, Victor stole a peek at the Colonel. Colonel Weeks glared at the wall still pinching and chewing his lips. His upper cheek muscle twitched near his eye.
Victor propelled himself off the desk he was leaning against. He took a few steps toward the Colonel. Victor didn’t seem to breathe, either.
Another agonizing minute passed before the big Anarock leader murmured under his breath. “You’re being a little hard on him, don’t you think?”
Colonel Weeks whirled away. He stormed to the nearest table and flung his hands down on it. He hung his head between his braced elbows and heaved an almighty sigh. “I guess I’m letting him off easy. That’s the way I see it.”
“He’s been back two months and he hasn’t fucked up once. How long are you gonna keep dragging him through the mud like this?”
“Forever, probably.” Colonel Weeks snorted to himself. “Fucking NightRage piece of shit! That’s all he is.”
“I don’t think so. He’s seriously trying to redeem himself.”
Colonel Weeks flung himself upright. He tugged his jacket into place and shrugged his shoulders inside it, but he didn’t look at Victor. He cast his unwavering eye straight ahead and snapped out the words with an effort. “If you order me to drop it, I will, but I’ll never forgive him. Never!”
Victor murmured low in his ear so no one else could hear. “I won’t order you to drop it, but this conflict is affecting all the rest of the Crest, which is another way of saying it’s affecting all the rest of Anarock. It’s causing more problems than it solves. He’s working his tail off to prove himself. One of these days, you’re gonna have to put the past behind you both and let him do that. That’s all I’m saying.”
Victor turned away to where Finn Weeks observed the whole interaction from a few feet away. He leafed through some papers while he mumbled in a distracted way. “I’ve got a job for you, man. I need you to go over to Canal Street and meet up with a contact of ours there. I need you to open negotiations with them about the possibility of forming an alliance between their Crest and the Prometheus Crest.”
Finn stared across the war room at his father. Colonel Weeks studied some documents and diagrams on his worktable. Finn played out the nasty argument that just finished. Relations between father and son descended into name-calling and hostility every time Elliot set foot in the war room.
That wouldn’t have been a problem except that Victor seemed bent on including Elliot in the workings of the Prometheus Crest. He went out of his way to give Elliot every chance to participate and prove his loyalty—which Elliot did. The more Elliot succeeded, the more infuriated Colonel Weeks became with him. The situation got downright cringe-worthy to a member of their immediate family.
Victor’s head whipped around. “Did you hear me, Finn?”
“Huh?” Finn woke from his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Sure thing, man.”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “If you heard me, repeat back what I just said. What did I just say?”
Finn glanced at him. His eyes met Victor’s and he looked down at the floor. “Sorry, man. I was preoccupied. I didn’t hear.”
Victor peered behind him following Finn’s gaze. He couldn’t fail to see Colonel Weeks standing there. Victor sighed and laid his hand on Finn’s shoulder. He rotated Finn away so he couldn’t see his father.
“You need to get out of here for a while. Get across town and get mixed up with some real people for a change. Put this situation out of your mind for a few hours.”
Finn took a deep breath and passed his hand across his eyes. “Yeah. All right. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to go to the Sheraton on Canal Street. I set up a meeting between you and the SeamStream Crest. They’re one of the wealthiest, most powerful house Crests of Anarock, but they’ve always stayed neutral during all these invasions. They flatly refuse to engage with the military or to participate in defending the city. They stay in their cozy little world and don’t mix with any other Crests.”
Finn frowned. “SeamStream Crest? I never heard of ‘em. What can you tell me about ‘em?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Victor snorted. “No one knows anything about them. I wish I could tell you more, but you’ll be going in blind.”
Finn raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He picked up a document from the table in front of him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just delivering the message, right? I don’t need to know they’re fucking dirty laundry to do that.”
Victor clapped his shoulder again. “Good man. You’re the best I’ve got for this. I appreciate you doing it.”
Finn looked up and found himself observing his father again. “I doubt that, but whatever.”
Victor cast another glance toward the Colonel before he returned to scrutinizing Finn. “You okay, man? I never saw you so rattled by something. You’re scaring me.”
Finn blew his breath into his cheeks. He scanned the war room, but he didn’t feel the same comfortable confidence at occupying such an influential place near his leader. “Yeah, man. I’m all right. I’ll do the job. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Victor inched close to his ear. “I know this shit between your dad and Elliot is wearing on you. I’ll do my best to curb it, but it looks like your dad just needs to ride it out until he pulls his head out of his ass and accepts that Elliot is part of this Crest now.”
Finn stole a glimpse at Victor’s face. Finn didn’t trust any man alive as much as he trusted Victor, but he hesitated even to say the words out loud. “It ain’t that, man. This shit don’t have nothing to do with Elliot.”
Victor’s eyebrows flew up. “What? Why not? What do you mean?”
Finn almost whispered. He didn’t want to disturb the unquiet spirits in the war room. “It’s Alexa. He doesn’t want to live in the house without her in it. He gets more agitated and trigger-happy when he goes home. He sees her everywhere. Every time he comes up against the fact that she isn’t around anymore, he loses his shit completely. Ain’t no one can come near him anymore.” Finn dropped his voice to a breath. “He’s fucking losing it, man. I’m telling you.”
Victor gaped at him with his mouth open. “You’re serious!”
Finn nodded. He didn’t want to say any more. He already said too much. As he expected, Victor swiveled around and stared at the Colonel’s back, but he didn’t say anything. Finn trusted Victor to take that scrap of information and do the best thing with it. Finn believed in Victor above all else to deal with Colonel Weeks cracking from emotional strain.
Finn shook himself and bumped Victor’s shoulder. “Anyway, I got my orders. I’ll get over the way and let you know what they have to say for themselves.”
Victor didn’t look at Finn. He kept staring at Colonel Weeks until Finn slipped out of the war room and left Ogru-Kuche for Canal Street.
2
Finn stopped across the street. He craned back his head and stared at the Sheraton Hotel on New Orleans’s upscale Canal Street. He never expected it to be so damned big.
Sheer walls of solid, gleaming glass towered out of sight into the blue sky. They glistened in the sunshine. People in classy business suits and women in high heels clipped in and out of the entrance doors. They grazed at nearby cafes and shopped at expensive stores up and down the street.
While Finn watched, a sleek, black limo pulled up to the Sheraton. A man in a black suit and a woman in a skin-tight pencil skirt got out. Porters, valets, and more men in suits mobbed them and escorted them inside.
Just for a second, Finn trembled to go into that building. Victor didn’t tell him to wear a suit or even to scrape the dirt out from under his fingernails. He didn’t say anything to prepare Finn for what he was walking into.
He couldn’t go in there. Victor said he was the best person for this job, but that couldn’t be right. He should h
ave sent his brother Malachai or some other person who knew how to act in high society, someone who knew how to dress.
The next instant, Finn braced himself. He had a job to do. Victor wouldn’t give him this task if he didn’t think Finn could handle it. Finn might not be accustomed to high society and wealth on this scale, but he was no slouch. He knew how to deal with people.
If he wasn’t good enough to at least talk to these SeamStream Crest people, then the Prometheus Crest was better off without them. After all, most everyone in the Prometheus Crest had dirt under their fingernails. The Prometheus Crest was made up of people just like Finn.
He sacked up his nuts and crossed the street. He strolled into the lobby and did his best to blend in, but he didn’t feel right without a suit on. He was wearing his usual black canvas pants, a black t-shirt, and his tan work boots.
He approached the reception kiosk. A white lady with a perfectly spherical coiffure and a spotless blue blazer raised her sparkling face to him and smiled the biggest, toothiest smile Finn ever saw in his life. She didn’t look at him twice. She didn’t seem to recognize that he was probably the blackest black man she’d ever laid eyes on.
“What can I help you with today, Sir?” she chirped.
Finn gulped. That was the first time in his life anybody ever called him Sir. He had to take hold of himself not to react. “I’m here to meet with Bernard Novak. I was told to meet him here.”